Octavia Philharmonica, lead chair cellist for the Canterlot Symphony, smiled happily as she trotted down the main avenue of Canterlot, ignoring the setting sun’s light that seemed determined to beam straight into her violet eyes. There was quite little that could dampen her mood now. Her ensemble had played for a private party at Fancy Pants’ estate and, if the standing ovation was anything to go by, they had surpassed expectations yet again. Ever since the disaster that was the Grand Galloping Gala, the Canterlot Symphony had had to work hard to win back their reputation as Equestria’s foremost classical ensemble. Everypony, from Harpo to Frederic to Beauty Brass, had given their heart and soul to their performances. Octavia could not be any prouder of her friends.
Canterlot during the day was a wonderland of magical and cultural delights; high-society ponies trotting to and from their important businesses, or nobles on their way to parties and matters of state. Some days, Octavia had even seen the Princesses mingling with the common ponies in the market, treating them like the beloved subjects they were. A ghost of a smile graced Octavia’s muzzle as she remembered a smile she had received from Princess Luna. Perhaps one day her ensemble could once again play for the royals of Equestria. One could only dream.
But Canterlot at night was a different story. Like many cities, the darker elements came out to at night to conduct their business, and even at sunset Octavia could feel the eyes on her back… and flanks. And while it made her uncomfortable- extremely so, in some cases- she was not overly concerned for her safety. Despite not consciously feeling it, Octavia was well aware of the Reserve Guard badge stashed in her cello case. It was not something one expected from the slight, sophisticated mare, but she had taken those three years of her life quite seriously before discovering her way in music.
A shaky cry caught Octavia’s trained ears, and her quick-moving gait slows, ears swiveling to catch the sound again. It’s a mare’s voice, though scratchy, and another cry immediately has Octavia trotting to find its source. Somepony could be hurt- in a magical city like Canterlot, odd drop-offs and spinning staircases were not uncommon, and neither were injuries associated with them. But this voice wasn’t coming from a staircase, or the bottom of a wall. To Octavia’s surprise, it seemed to be coming from a dilapidated warehouse, hidden behind a nicer, brighter store complex. A light was on in a window. The cellist was… not liking where this was leading.
Too curious for her own good, especially after another, louder cry, Octavia quickly trotted up to the window, peeking in slowly and cautiously. Surely it was just a game, some kind of Nightmare Night-esque scaring game, or a pair of amorous ponies in a private… setting… Octavia could not have been more wrong. To her quickly horror-filling eyes, Octavia could see a small, white unicorn with a shock of electric blue hair laying on the dirty floor, surrounded on both sides by a pair of stallions, both with malicious grins. The mare was trembling and sobbing openly, her flanks bruised and bloodied. A stallion’s hoof was pressing her head to the floor, while another…
The mare’s scream drowned out Octavia’s sob of anger as the stallion stomped hard on the unicorn’s horn, clearly trying to snap it off. The ivory point was chipped and bleeding out golden blood, and the base was a worrying shade of bruised blue. As the pain faded, Octavia could hear the mare pleading in a hoarse, scratchy voice.
“P-please, stop, I-I-I won’t run, I w-won’t y-ye-AAAAH!”
Another stomp, and Octavia was seeing red. Her cello case thumped lightly to the ground, and the ash-grey pony quickly opened it up, tugging out her badge and clipping it to her bowtie collar. This had to stop now, and if she ran to find an on-duty Guardpony… that unicorn could lose her horn. While not a deadly or permanently crippling injury, her Reserve classes had taught her that a snapped horn took years to grow back to full potential, and was an exceedingly painful process.
Octavia’s hooves were an interesting case in earth pony hoofdom. While her forehooves, accustomed to being used in lovingly tending to her cello and playing, were soft and finely-cared for, her hind hooves were far different. They were tough, and strong, more like a farmer’s hind hooves. Used to standing on her hind legs, and well-trained from her days in Guard training, Octavia tended to let her powerfully strong hind hooves be, only making sure they looked presentable. The poor warehouse door never knew what bucked it in half.
Three sets of eyes shot up- two in surprise, one filled with half-mad, delirious pleading- as Octavia stormed in, the light from the magical lights in the ceiling glinting off the golden badge at her neck.
“In the name of the Guard of Equestria, step away from her, now!” Octavia’s trained voice snapped, one forehoof pawing the dusty wooden floor beneath her, “Lay down on your stomach and put your hooves behind your heads!”
And for several seconds, nopony moved, giving Octavia time to size up the criminals. One was a Canterlotian unicorn, judging from his size and sly, superior smirk, with a dark brown coat and white mane. He had wrapped his cutie mark in linen, likely to make himself harder to identify later. The other pony was not nearly as smart, or sly. He was a pegasus, coat a soft blue and mane a short, bright red. His cutie mark was a dark thundercloud. Unlike his partner-in-crime, however, he was far more nervous… and sped out the window with a crash and zoom. That was no bother to Octavia. The Guard would find him… and he had not been the pony stomping on the unicorn’s horn.
“Stand. Down.”
“No.”
To any other pony, the unicorn’s magic would have thrown Octavia across the room to slam into the far wall, likely knocking her out and leaving her at the mercy of the sadistic pony. But the enchanted Guard badge dispersed the wave of magic as soon as it entered its field, leaving the unicorn blinking in surprise. There was a reason Octavia left the artifact in with her priceless cello most days. Octavia, unharmed and smirking, kicked her hooves into action, charging forward quickly, lessons coming back to mind.
Unicorns do not have the physical strength of earth ponies and pegasi, but their magic can make up for it quickly. Divide their attention, and attack the horn if you can. Remember, it is sharp; come from the sides.
Flipping around, Octavia’s back hooves bucked out, slamming into the side of the stunned unicorn and flinging him into the side of the warehouse, shaking the dilapidated building. His horn glowed a soft red as he stood, and several loose pieces of wood flung themselves at Octavia; her badge could not interrupt telekinesis on foreign objects. Hot pain slashed up Octavia’s side, but she ignored it, kicking a loose stone towards the unicorn’s head. The resulting crack and pained cry made both mares wince; the white unicorn was crying softly, curled tightly in on herself. Octavia sighed softly as she watched her, giving her mane a soft pet before moving to tie up the writhing stallion with some spare strings from her cello case. And she had been having such a good day…
*************************
The Royal Guard had arrived on the scene soon after Octavia finished tying up the downed unicorn, much to Octavia's relief. She had magic nullifying horn ring in her case, but she had not looked forward to lugging both ponies around while she looked for a Guard. When the Guard, spears lowered and magic crackling, had burst into the warehouse, Octavia had quickly stepped to one side, Badge hanging from her chest.
"Reserve Guard Octavia Philharmonica," she told them immediately, standing perfectly still as one of the unicorns scanned her with a quick spell.
As amazing as magic was, it always was a tad... off for Octavia. She had been working her hooves off for everything she had since she was a filly. To stand and work the cello like she did, or her violin... to be able to do the same with magic would have made things so much easier. And she would have learned nothing. Octavia suppressed a small chuckle, stiffening and saluting with one hoof as a new group of Guards entered the building. Where most Royal Guard armor was gold, Officer and Detective armor were both silver and light blue, built to hold many different arcano-tech devices to help in their work. Two detectives quickly rushed to the fallen mare, horns flashing as they scanned her injured body, while a pegasus mare turned to stand before Octavia.
"At ease, Philharmonica," the detective (a quick glance down revealed Quick Shot emblazoned on her breastplate) barked, ears laying back as she looked her over, "Give me a report. The hell happened here?"
"I heard screams coming from this structure, ma'am. As per my off-duty mandate, I went to see if I could give assistance. When I arrived, I witnessed two stallions..."
Octavia winced, just a bit, before continuing, "Assaulting this mare. They were in the process of breaking her horn off."
She nodded grimly at the paleness that swept over the light blue pegasus mare, "There was no doubt that that was their intention, ma'am. I... believe they already had sexually assaulted her before I arrived..."
Quick Shot glanced back at the two unicorn guards, who each gave her a sad nod. Octavia's heart twisted. She had already assumed, given the blood and bruises, but the confirmation... Her ears laid back sadly as she looked the unconscious mare over. The poor thing...
"Ma'am, I... I will not mind accompanying her to the hospital," Octavia offered softly, her tail giving a few small swishes, "After stopping her attackers, I... would personally like to apologize for not arriving sooner."
One of Quick Shot's eyebrows rose, just slightly, "Reservist, I doubt she'll mind that. It's lucky you were around to arrive at all. Do not beat yourself up over that. That's an order. ...and yes, you may accompany her. Just come by my office within the next few days, to fill out a statement and some forms."
Octavia nodded firmly, saluting again, "Yes, ma'am."
"Dismissed."
The unicorn guards were carefully loading the mare as Octavia hurried over, and she was careful to set the torn saddlebags up beside her. Whimpering quietly, the snow-white unicorn curled in on herself, and Octavia gave a soft sigh, patting her shoulder carefully.
"Don't you worry," she whispered sincerely, "It's all going to be okay now."
*************************
Vinyl Scratch woke up with a loud gasp, crimson eyes snapping open. Pain. Everything hurt. Her sides, her flanks, her… her plot… and her horn. Especially her horn. When that pony had stepped on her horn… the crack… she had felt it through her entire being. Tears leaked from Vinyl’s bloodshot eyes. She wanted to reach up, to feel her horn and know it was there and safe. But if it was gone… Her life. Her music. She knew she could play with just her hooves- she had done it before, during a bad case of Poison Joke exposure- but it had been a lackluster performance at best. And Vinyl hated to be lackluster. She was DJ Pon-3! The Mistress of Wubs, the Maestro of Dance and Hype! To be mediocre… she’d rather be de-
“Oh good, you’re up.”
The Canterlotian voice was soft, and relieved; definitely a mare’s. And very familiar. Despite the spike of nearly nauseating pain, Vinyl turned to her head to the left, and her eyes finally took in where she was. An IV drip pole rested above her, and a lance of sunlight shined through the blinds of the large window, illuminating the stark whiteness of the hospital room. And the voice… Vinyl’s breath caught in her throat. It was the Mare. Tall, with ash-grey fur and straight, charcoal hair. Violet eyes met Vinyl’s crimson, and the mare gave her a gentle smile. With the sun at her back, she was radiant.
“I-I… y-you’re…”
“My name is Octavia Philharmonica,” her savior whispered, still smiling, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…”
“S-scratch,” Vinyl whispered, her voice sounding like its namesake, “V-vinyl Scratch.”
Recognition seemed to spark in the eyes of both.
“The DJ?”
“The c-cellist?”
Both mares blinked and gave a laugh- a soft, sophisticated giggle from Octavia, and a weak, hoarse chuckle from Vinyl.
“D-didn’t think… a c-classy pony like y-you would know about the club scene?” Vinyl teased, waving a hoof weakly; it was wrapped tightly in bandages, and she couldn’t help but wince at the memory of the pegasus who had slammed it into a wall.
“Oh, I know just a… little,” Octavia assured her, oblivious to Vinyl’s bleak thought, “You’re quite popular, and I’ve heard a few of your songs on the radio. I’m surprised you’ve heard of me, to be honest!”
This drew Vinyl’s attention quickly back to the mare across from her, and she gave a weak smile.
“I-I like some classical s-stuff,” she admitted sheepishly, “It w-works really well in remixes, I-”
The hospital door suddenly clicked open, and a white-furred, black-maned nurse peeked inside with an apologetic smile.
“Miss Philharmonica? I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”
Octavia sighed softly, nodding and getting to her hooves, not spotting the sudden tenseness that shot through Vinyl like lightning. She was leaving? No… No, no, no, she couldn’t leave, they’ll come back! She was only dimly aware of the heart monitor spiking loudly, or Octavia’s confused questions. She blindly reached out with her forehooves, tears filling her eyes. Screw looking like a filly.
“P-please don’t go, please! T-they’ll come back, I-I can’t… p-please…” she begged pitifully.
She tried to reach out with her magic to tug Octavia back, but a single spark from her cracked horn (at least it was there) sent a bolt of pain down her spine. No! No, she’s going to leave, she’s going- A shadow blotted out her vision, and a warm body pressed firmly against her. Vinyl took a tentative sniff; it smelled of instrument oil, vanilla, and a soft, earthy tone of earth pony sweat. Octavia.
“I think… we can make an exception, this time.”