//------------------------------// // Family Appreciation Day—Octavia // Story: The Merely Mundane Tales (of a Mad-Pony in a Box) // by R5h //------------------------------// It wasn't easy, walking through what used to be Canterlot, but Octavia felt like she was coping. She'd been preparing for it on the train; she knew what kind of devastation to expect. And there it was, as she walked down the main street. To her right were the burned-out remains of an old jeweler's. Boards covered windows that had once displayed the most beautiful amethysts she'd ever imagined. Just think of other things—clerical things. Like which room your family's in. She turned away and continued on toward the castle, where her family was being housed until their home could be rebuilt. Her mind flicked toward memories of that place—the old oak tree where she'd had a swing, the kitchen where her father had made the best food in the world— Enough, she told herself. Thinking about it won't do any good. Just get to the castle and you'll be able to go see them. You have to be close now, anyway. Upon turning another corner, she saw a large mass of ponies surrounded by royal guards. One of them was shouting to the crowd: “Fillies and gentlecolts, you're all going to be able to see your families, but we have to do this in an orderly fashion! Find the line for your name and just wait. You'll see your families soon enough.” There's a line to go visit my family. Octavia tried to stop her brain from continuing this train of thought, but it was on the march now. There's a line because everyone else is doing it and they're worried—and because everyone's taken refuge in the castle because everyone's lost their homes to the fire— “Stop!” she muttered to herself, forcing her eyes shut before anything managed to escape. This isn't the place, and it isn't the time. After a few deep breaths, she trotted to a royal guard and found the line for the 'O's. It's okay... it's nothing major, just a line... just a line that stretches for... She leaned to the side to see how long the line was, then groaned. That stretches for hours! … no, stay calm. It'll be fine. You can endure this. “Excuse me, miss? Miss Octavia?” She opened her eyes and was surprised to see a second royal guard in front of her. This one's uniform was different, with purple and gold around the edges; she supposed he must be a captain. “You are the Octavia, right?” “I... suppose I am,” she replied, feeling rather uncertain. Her eyes widened further as he pulled out a piece of paper and offered it to her. Is this one of those looking-for-autographs things Vinyl gets so excited about? Then she realized that she'd seen him once before. “Hold on, you're... something Armor, isn't that right?” “Captain Shining Armor, ma'am.” He leaned in closer and spoke softly. “The Princesses told me you'd be here, and gave me instructions to help speed you through.” He lifted the paper once more. “Here are the directions to your family's room. Go on ahead.” The ponies around her were giving her odd looks. “I really shouldn't,” she said, smiling nervously at them. “I should wait like everyone else.” “You saved my sister, and the princesses. Please, Element of Generosity,” he said, pressing it closer to her. “It is, perhaps literally, the least we can do.” She finally took it from him, whereupon he straightened up and marched away from her. She was still conscious of the range of expressions around her—from bemused to openly annoyed—as she opened the note and read it, then placed it in her saddlebags. I don't have the right to just saunter off ahead of everyone else, do I? Why should I get to skip ahead and not them? Though I did help save Equestria. She shrugged; it was hardly a point she could argue. And the princesses made a special point to think of me—it might not be right to ignore that... but then again... Oh, I'm being ridiculous, she decided. What would Vinyl Scratch do? After another moment's hesitation, she got out of line and began walking parallel to it, ignoring the muttered vindictive remarks she heard from the ponies in line. I'm not going to feel guilty about this. Octavia was fairly sure that the wooden door before her was the correct one, but in the dusky cellar of the castle it was hard to be sure. Besides, the hallway she was in had dozens of identical doors, like a dimly lit hospital, or a dungeon. For all she knew, it had been a dungeon, at some point. I'm brooding again, she noticed, and took another deep breath. Then she raised her hoof, hesitated again, and knocked with a tentative “Hello?” The door opened and her Aunt Vivace poked her head out. “Is that...” She beamed, and before Octavia knew what had happened she'd been pulled inside the door in a giant hug. “It's little Octavia! And just when I was wondering if prisoners were allowed visiting hours—welcome!” “Happy Family Appreciation Day, Auntie.” It wasn't easy to say those words, considering the surprising amount of force her aging aunt was exerting on her diaphragm. “Oh, you have no idea how much I appreciate this.” Vivace pinched her cheek with both hooves, then turned around to the room at large and said, “Now, look who poked her head in here!” Octavia wondered whether she could truthfully say 'at large' in respect to this cell of a room. A little chest of drawers stood in one corner by the door, and a lamp sat on top of it to provide the room's light; there was no window. Sitting on various mattresses that took up almost half of the room's remaining floor space were her father, mother, and grandfather, each one wearing a plain white robe. As Octavia entered the room, they all rose and embraced her, one by one. “Oh, mia cara!” Her father kissed to the side of her left cheek, then her right. “You bring light into this hall.” “If we had a hall,” Aunt Vivace muttered. “Now, Vivi,” said her grandfather, standing up slowly from his own mattress, which had the most blankets of all of them. “Come here, my darling.” “Grandpa Fando!” Octavia smiled and rushed into his hooves. He grunted as she made contact. “Not too rough, my dear. My bones aren't what they were... especially on these old slabs.” He tapped the bed behind him with a back leg. “Oh, don't be that way, Father,” said Octavia's mother, pulling her from her grandfather's embrace to hug her. “Wonderful to see you, dear. Please, sit down.” She gestured toward her own mattress. “No, don't worry,” Octavia said, stepping back. “I insist!” Her mother and father remained standing, and Octavia, after a few seconds, gave in and sat. “I brought something for you,” she said, pulling a check out of her saddlebag. “My last show with Vinyl was a big success, and... I wanted you to have something.” But as she lifted the check toward her parents, her father shook his head. “We can't be accepting charity, my dear. No, no,” he said, pushing the hoof with the check back toward her, “not even from our own daughter. We may not have our home, but we still have our pride.” “But...” Before she could get any farther, her father narrowed his eyes and shook his head once, and sharply. “All right,” Octavia said, putting the check back in her bag. “So... how is the rebuilding going?” “Oh, I've heard it's going wonderfully!” her mother said. “That is, considering the damage. I've heard that ponies are actually getting back to their homes already.” Octavia tilted her head. “You've heard?” “Well, we haven't exactly been out and about, have we?” Her father laughed. “What are we going to do, rebuild the old manor ourselves?” “That's an option?” Octavia leaned forward. “Ha! Not one we'd take!” Her father beamed at the family around them. Octavia didn't smile back quite as brightly—nor, she noticed, did anyone else. Then again, Father's always been the boisterous one. “The princesses have hired workers to rebuild everyone's homes, in time. No need for us to heave timbers into place like common laborers!” “Would that speed the process? I mean, wouldn't you rather be out of this... this cell as quickly as possible?” Grandpa Fando rolled over to look at her. “I know it may seem difficult, bela, but in life one must sometimes make sacrifices.” He rolled back over and started to snore. “But you—” Octavia wanted to do something—what, she didn't know—that would make her family see sense. But you don't have to endure this. You can take your situation into your own hooves. You're all being so... So much like me, she realized. Me, seven months ago. When I hadn't met Vinyl; when I just waited for good things to come to me. She smiled. But I changed. I took a new life for myself. “Now there's my little girl's smile.” Octavia mother knelt down in front of her and ran a hoof through her hair. “See? It'll all be fine for us.” Octavia's smile tightened a bit. “Hey, you know who you might like to see?” Aunt Vivace stood up and helped Octavia to her hooves. “Your old ensemble!” “They're here?” she asked, sitting back down again. “Why?” “The fire left them in the same boat as the rest of us, of course!” Vivace leaned in close with a frown and whispered, “Though I'd be happier if this place was a boat. Boats are watertight, but when it rains here... plop plop plop.” She dropped her hoof sharply with each 'plop', like a water droplet striking the ground. Despite herself, Octavia giggled a bit. “But enough about that, you've got the old gang to visit! They'll be thrilled!” “Is that so?” Octavia said automatically. I forgot about them. I brought money for my family and I forgot about bringing anything to help them—I forgot about them entirely! What kind of Element of Generosity am I? Her head turned downward a degree, so that she didn't have to look at Vivace's eager eyes. “Oh, very very much so!” Vivace turned around to her family. “No offense, but I don't think Octavia should be spending too much time with some old fuddy-duddies like us; we'll make her old before her time. Does anyone mind terribly if I show her the way to her old friends?” “Do whatever makes you feel best, dear,” her mother said with a smile. “Wonderful!” Vivace took Octavia, escorted her out the door, and closed it. “Now, you'll be taking a right, then another right, and then keep going until you hear music sounds; one of them's always sawing away this time of day. And I'll take that, by the way,” she said, reaching toward Octavia's saddlebag. “What do you mean?” “The check, if you still want to give it!” Vivace laughed. “We're not all damned fools in this family, I'll have you know.” Octavia smiled and passed the check to her aunt, who slipped it into her robe. “Now,” her aunt continued, “just take those rights and you'll be seeing your old friends in no time!” “Thank you!” Octavia said with a smile, walking right as Vivace returned to the room and shut the door. Then Octavia stopped in her tracks and sighed. I left them all that time ago—I abandoned them, and now they're in this refugee camp. And I don't even have any way to help them. What am I going to do, rejoin? I can't go. She stood in the hallway for a few seconds more, then turned left and walked past her family's door—back on the way out of the castle. I suppose I was wrong after all. I do have to make sacrifices.