And she did sleep very well. At least for the four hours she had left before she had to wake up again for school.
Their talk had been enough to immediately put her back to sleep. No official conclusion had been made as to how she was going to go about the rest of her career, or how she would interpret the advice he’d so graciously given her, but for the present time it had at least changed her outlook on school.
As interesting as her talk with her father had been, it had deprived her of the one necessary component for anypony’s first day at a new school – a good, LONG night’s sleep. The majority of the blame for this was still the fault of the electronic music that had originally woken her, but as much as she hated to admit it she had to thank whoever it was for blasting it. If it hadn’t been for that, she would never have been able to vent her frustration, and in turn be wouldn’t have been exposed to the side of her father she never knew existed.
This was, however, purely fortunate timing, and the next time she heard that god-forsaken trash she would personally track down the pony playing it and give them the longest lecture about contemporary music she could imagine.
The school was located within a walking distance from her new home. She could have easily done just that; she wasn’t afraid of the cold, considering her homeland had some of the fiercest winters in the world. To her chagrin her mother had insisted on taking her the first day, so that she could ‘help’ her daughter get acquainted with her new surroundings. If there was one thing Octavia hated more than her father treating her like a filly, it was when her mother did the same. But the decision did come with an upside; a free ride, which she desperately needed.
In what wasn’t long enough a time for Octavia to take a decent nap, they’d arrived at the school. Under the newborn daylight the gargantuan structure prominently displayed its walls of red brick and iron shingles, light refracting off the various windows that lined its front. A short cement pathway led from where they’d stopped to the front door, perfect levelness interrupted by the tallest flagpole Octavia had ever seen. A huge clock adorned the apex of the front most wall.
Waiting for the cart to come to a complete stop, Octavia sluggishly stepped out, setting her hooves onto the chilly walkway. Even with her drowsy eyes and even drowsier mind she could tell something was off about the school. Not so much the school itself, but the number of foals presently walking through the front courtyard.
Which was to say absolutely none.
Luckily for her her go-to walking encyclopedia of pretty much everything had decided to tag along.
“Mother, where’s everypony else?” she grumbled.
Walking to her daughter’s side, her mother trotted along just as slothfully. Her job didn’t call for her to get up so early, so this sensation was completely alien to her. She knew she’d offered to take her along, but she regretted it every step of the way.
Her mouth opened wide, bellowing a much-needed drawn-out yawn before answering. “Well, ya see Octavia, we’re actually a little late. They said it would be ok if we came in late, there’d be somepony to help us around.”
They were LATE? THIS was late? She wasn’t so perturbed at the fact that she was tardy on her first day of school so much as she was annoyed that being late still felt five hours too early.
“Well let’s get this over with. I think I hear my bed calling,” her mother spoke groggily.
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There were just as many young foals inside as there were outside. Judging from her mother’s statement, she guessed they were already in their classes, learning things that weren’t music. She pitied them, for they would never know the joy of memorizing Beethooven’s 9th through four straight hours of practice.
The two stood at the crossroad of three long hallways, lined with lockers for use as miniature storage units. It puzzled Octavia how anypony was to fit their belongings in such small slots. The size of the building was imposing, for sure, but she wasn’t concerned. Oh no, she wasn’t worried about getting lost or anything.
“Ah, you must be Miss Adagio.”
Octavia slowly turned her head to the source of the voice calling her name. Trotting towards them from the hallway on the right was a rather tall, sky-blue unicorn, dressed in what appeared to be a buttoned purple sweater. Glasses only half the size of her large green eyes were perched towards the end of her snout. Her mane was a drab magenta, not quite the same color as Octavia’s own eyes. The smile beaming across her face seemed impossible to possess at such an early time.
“Yes, that is me.”
“It’s such a pleasure. I’ve been waiting for you all morning.”
“How long has she been here?” Octaiva thought to herself.
“I’m Miss Caralot. I’m your homeroom teacher for this year. I will also be doubling as your math teacher.”
Perfect, JUST perfect. Her least favorite out of all the unworthy subjects, and SHE was the one going to be teaching her? She couldn’t take this level of liveliness first thing in the morning. Keeping her father’s advice in her mind, she restrained herself from letting out a groan. She forced herself to return the smile as best she could, trying to make a good first impression. Maybe if she played her cards right, she wouldn’t be given as much work.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Octavia squeaked.
“I must say, your Equestrian is quite exemplary. I haven’t met anypony from another country who can speak it as well as you can.”
“Thank you.”
“I trust my daughter will be in capable hands?” her mother questioned.
“You don’t need to worry at all Mrs. Adagio. Here at Manehattan Primary, we strive to give only the best education to all the young foals who come here. I’m sure your daughter will love this school.”
“That’s good to know. Is there anything else I need to stay for?”
“There is not miss. I will help your daughter around the school for the next few days until she gets acquainted.”
“I really appreciate that, thanks.” She nuzzled her filly one last time before her departure. “You’ll do fine dear, don’t worry. I have the utmost confidence in you. I can’t wait to hear all about your first day when you get home.”
“Goodbye, mother.” She waved her off as her mother turned and exited out the same door she’d entered. Octavia followed her mother’s path all the way until she’d once again strapped herself into the cart and headed off.
“Well then Miss Adagio, are you ready to go to homeroom?”
She started walking back down the hallway she’d materialized from with Octavia following at her side.
“It’s alright miss, you may call me Octavia.”
“Octavia. It’s such a beautiful name. Your parents chose well.”
“You think so? I never really liked it. I think it sounds too… rough.”
“Oh, nonsense. Octavia is a beautiful name, and it fits you perfectly.”
Her medium pitched voice calmed any leftover fears Octavia had about school. She was very nice, but as countless movies and TV shows had taught her, it was the nice ones you had to watch out for.
“We’re here.”
Much sooner than she’d expected, Octavia was now staring at the door to her new homeroom, arguably the second most important class of the day. The dark oak door lined with the cracks and crevices of time stood stalwart between her and her future. She could hear the jumbled voices of countless foals coming from the inside, most likely discussing subject matters of trivial importance. Before long, she felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her flustered face. She wasn’t nervous, certainly not the headstrong Octavia. So why was she sweating? Disregarding it merely as a malfunction of the school’s heating system, she wiped it off her brow without another thought. Miss Caralot gently nudged the door open with an extended foreleg. She entered into the unknown territory, with Octavia following right behind.
The class was a nice size, with foals of both genders adding up to a little over a dozen total. A large window made up one wall of the room, sun shining brightly onto the faces of the entire class. In the front there was a large chalkboard, riddled with assignments for the young ponies and math problems Octavia instantly knew the answers to.
“Quiet down class,” Miss Caralot beamed out ever so cheerfully. “Today we have a new student joining us, all the way from Germaney. I want you all to give a warm welcome to Octavia!”
Their voices went instantly silent. Whatever they’d been discussing with each other paled in comparison to the new attraction at the vanguard of the room.
“Go on Octavia, introduce yourself.”
She hadn’t planned on talking at all, let alone give a formal introduction. “Ummm, hello. My name is Octavia. As you already know, I’m from Germaney. I hope you’ll accept me into your class.” This was so embarrassing.
She gave a slight bow, more of a head nod actually, at her new classmates. Their beady little eyes scanned the new intruder like some sort of painting for everypony to just stare at. Most of them had never seen a foreign filly before.
This reaction would be odd to any other young pony, but it was all too familiar to her. Even though she’d never once transferred schools before, she knew it well. It was similar, no, exactly like the looks she received when she’d performed Buck’s Symphony in E Minor flawlessly in front of an audience of adults, who couldn’t believe that the little filly was the source of the amazing sounds they were hearing.
But something was off about the attention she was receiving. Something wrong, out of place among should have been a complete show of awe. One pair of eyes stood out among the rest. It wasn’t a gaze of awe or fear.
It was a gaze of sheer joy.
Octavia turned her own to meet this gaze, while continuing the façade of making it look like she was addressing the entire class. She was met with one of the most interesting sights she’d ever seen.
In the far corner, a white unicorn filly was smiling back at her. Her mane was long and spiky; the style reminded Octavia of those modern artists that she’d heard about. Rich vibrant hues of blue soared out of her scalp, adding color to her pure white coat. But the most extraordinary aspect about her was her eyes. Crimson red baubles sat perched in this filly’s head, staring directly at her. They seemed too perfect to be eyes; they reminded Octavia too much of precious rubies, glimmering in the sunlight.
It was spectacular. She never thought a pony could be so artistic in form, so beautifully colored. It wasn’t any sort of, dare she think it, romantic attraction; she compared it more to that of the first time she’d laid eyes upon her first cello, and how she’d gazed upon its luster wood for hours on end. Without her realizing it she’d been drawn into this filly’s gaze, who kept her smile all the while.
“Octavia, are you alright?”
Her teacher’s words sprung her out of her trance. The looks on her classmates’ faces had all turned into smirks, making her wonder what exactly it was they were so intrigued about. Then it hit her. She must’ve looked like a complete foal ogling that other filly like that. Who was she, her dad? Her face turned red from embarrassment.
“Well, ok then. You can take your seat right there.”
Happy to get out of the spotlight, she quickly obliged, following her teacher’s extended hoof towards the only empty seat, right aside of the window.
And right in front of the mystery filly.
She sat her flank down into the hard desk. As Miss Caralot began her morning speech, Octavia decided to listen to what the blue mare had to say, listening closely for any mention of the word ‘orchestra’.
Her latest screw-up vanished as quickly as it happened. The foals had obediently gone back to listening to their teacher. She might’ve been an attraction at first, but now that she wasn’t up on stage, they could care less about her. Good. The last thing she needed now was everypony crowding around her and asking her about her personal life. She learned to deal with the feeling of embarrassment early on; now it never lasted for more than a minute at most.
The only feeling she was concerned about at the current moment was the one jabbing itself into her shoulder over and over again. Like a parasprite begging to be fed it refused to desist, only increasing the force used with every jab. It was quite distracting, especially when she was putting her all into just listening to the teacher’s early morning oration. She wasn’t missing anything important, but that did not change the fact that it was annoying. All attempts to ignore it proved futile as such, and she was left with only the option to confront it in a quick and timely manner.
She quickly turned around to face her assailant, who ceased the incessant jabbing as soon as her demand was met. Octavia was met with the largest red eyes she’d ever seen. From a distance they already seemed large enough, but within inches of her face they seemed downright gargantuan. The face that held the eyes drew a grin.
“Hey, Octavia was it?” she asked excitedly.
“Yes. And who might you be?”
“The name’s Vinyl Scratch. Nice to meetcha!”