The whistle of the train roared as it raced across the tracks, traveling from Canterlot to its destination in Ponyville. The smoke coming off the smoke stack painted the morning that had yet to awaken a thick coat of black. Inside the train, located in the third box from the caboose, was a young grey mare with a dark grey mane. She was wearing a pink bow-tie which complemented the light violet in her eyes and the deeper violet on her treble clef cutie mark. She was intently reading a letter she had received earlier, for the hundredth time that day.
The letter read:
Dear Miss Octavia Melody,
It has come to my attention that the stress caused by your last
assignment is beginning to interfere with your performance at the academy. As a result, I
feel I may been too rash in assigning you to work alongside me during the Grand
Galloping Gala. I have also been alerted that you have failed to see any improvement
after your extended break from the academy.
As a result, I have decided to issue you to meet with a former pupil of mine. This is not
a punishment in response to your recent actions, but a learning experience I hope
you will benefit from. Please make sure to spend time getting to know my former
student. She is a bit rough around the edges, but she is somepony I feel you may learn
from. Also, be sure to heed her instruction, as she is a student and colleague that I put
the utmost faith in, even if our styles are not the same. Be sure to treat her with the same
respect you would show me.
As one of my prized students, please be sure to be on your best behavior while in Ponyville,
for you not only represent the best of your class, but the best in me as your instructor.
Sincerely Yours,
Professor Frederick Horseshoepin
Octavia still was unsure how it had reached this point. One moment she had been requested to meet with her mentor and master, and now here she was on a train to Ponyville to meet with one of her master’s former students for what was most likely going to be a remedial class. Octavia knew that her master had no intention of wasting her or his time, so whatever he had planned must have had a lot of thought and effort placed into it. All she could hope to do at the moment was reach her destination. Once there, she was to meet with the pony she was assigned to live with, and learn from them for the duration of 30 days.
Now, Octavia had faith in her ability at the cello. From a young age she had always been gifted at music; it had even reached the point where she was accepted into the prestigious Canterlot Music Academy when she was a filly, for a score she had written and performed. She always loved music and even had the cutie mark to show she was destined to do the thing she loved. However, recent events had taken a turn for the worst. She was requested to play at the Grand Galloping Gala alongside her master, which resulted in what was considered, ‘one of the biggest train wrecks’ in Canterlot history. Furthermore, she felt more at fault as a result of her actions that night for continuing to take those childish requests she was given during the gala.
Ever since then, she had started making childish mistakes: missing notes, forgetting her place when reading music; it even reached the point where her master thought it would be better if she took a vacation for a while. She spent that week locked in her room unable to even touch her prized cello, save for taking it out to do routine maintenance on it. Worst of all, during this time an old problem of hers began to resurface. After the week was over, her master sent over the letter requesting her to go to Ponyville. She was certain that if she was unable to appease this former student of her master, she was going to be kicked out of the academy. A thought had occurred to her earlier, that she could have been demoted back to the first year with all the new fillies and colts that had just joined that academy, but she knew that would be far too lenient for her master. She was either going to find success or lose the right to ever play her dear cello again.
The stress inside of her began to ball up; she was left nervous over what was going to happen: would she fail, or would she pass? Sadly for her, this time she was without her cello by her side to help her calm down. To her, even being within hoof’s length to her dear cello gave her the confidence to keep pushing forward, regardless of the situation. That stress soon began to spiral into a sphere and grew to exponential proportions. Soon she was close to bursting from the sheer volume of the stress.
*WHISTLE*
Her stress soon popped as she heard the sound of the whistle go off to indicate they had arrived at their destination. The conductor called out, “It is 5:30 am and we have reached our last stop in Ponyville. Please collect your belongings and exit in an orderly fashion.”
Octavia was relieved as she got up to grab her cello. Reaching for it from the overhead rack, she was soon filled with the memories of the many times she had played with it, damaged it, and repaired it. A memento from her childhood that continued to be there for her even in her most dire of moments. She loaded the heavy cello onto her back with ease and exited the train to be greeted by the sun that was starting to come up right on time, compliments of the Princess. She then wandered off the platform, taking in the sights and sounds of the humble village that was Ponyville. She was apt to ask for directions, but sadly most of the inhabitants were fast asleep at this time.
After wandering aimlessly for what seemed like ten minutes, Octavia had managed to successfully find an earth pony stallion with a red coat pulling a cart filled to the brim with ripe apples. Upon approaching the stallion, she cleared her throat and began to ask him her question. “Excuse me sir, I am new in town and I am lost. I am currently looking for the mayor’s office. Could you please be so kind as to point me in the correct direction? I will be very thankful.”
The stallion picked up his front right hoof and pointed towards the direction of the mayor’s office. Octavia noted this, and thanked him for the direction as she started off toward the mayor’s office. Suddenly the stallion picked up his hoof and stopped her in her tracks. Startled,she looked back at him, afraid of what he could do to her in the desolate alley. The stallion proceeded to grab one of the apples on the cart he was pulling and handed it to her. She looked at him bewildered. “Um, is that for me?” she asked, slightly scared.
The red stallion let out a hearty, “Eyup.”
Realizing she had yet to eat anything today, she took the apple and thanked him for it. The stallion smiled and proceeded to return to pulling his cart in the direction of the market. Octavia began to eat the apple, lost in her thoughts as she walked in the direction of the mayor’s office. Her mind began to go over the actions of that stallion whose name she did not know. Wow, the ponies here are far more friendly than any of the ones I know back in Canterlot. Most of them just look out for themselves, regardless of who they trample on. Maybe the reason the master’s former student lives here is because of the calm surroundings and kind ponies?
Octavia bit into the last of the apple as she reached the mayor’s office. From there, she continued east until she came across a cottage with a black record on the front. She looked at the humble abode and made sure the address matched. This must be the place, time to make a good first impression. As she approached the door, she took her cello off her back and straightened her bow-tie. Looking into the window, she saw a clock indicating it was 6:00 am, exactly the time she was told to arrive.
Preparing for the inevitable, Octavia lifted her hoof and knocked on the door. After a few minutes had passed, she knocked again, yet there was still no response. She prepared to knock for a third time until she heard the noise of hoofsteps getting closer to the door. From the other side she could hear somepony yelling, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”
As the door opened, she was greeted by the most bizarre sight: a mare no older than she was standing in the doorway. She was a unicorn with a white coat, magenta colored eyes, and an unkempt blue mane. She tried to make out her cutie mark but was unable to due to the darkness of the doorway. The mare let out a loud yawn and asked, “Hey, who are you , and what can I help ya with?”
Octavia, left flabbergasted over her meeting with the mare, quickly regained her composure. “Hello, my name is Octavia Melody. I was sent by Master Horseshoepin to meet with a former student of his and study under them. Do you know where I may find them?”
The mare looked at her confused, in a state of being half asleep, before it finally hit her. “Oh, you’re Octavia, yeah you got the right place. Sorry, I had a gig that went on till 4am, just got home a while ago. Man, Freddy has told me a lot about you, says you’re his ‘prized student,’ or somthing like that.”
Octavia was left surprised: first that this was the mare she was supposed to be learning from, second that this mare and her master were so close that she would call him “Freddy,” and third that her master though so highly of her. She needed to make sure she wasn’t hearing things. “Oh, Master Horseshoepin really said that about me!? I am honored that he-” She was quickly cut off by the mare.
“Yeah, last time I dropped by Canterlot the guy wouldn’t stop bragging about you. Oh by the way, my name is Vinyl Scratch, but you can call me Vinyl. How about I show you up to your room? Your bags are already waiting for you up there,” Vinyl rushed through, trying to get back to bed.
Octavia proceeded to pick up her cello and entered the house. Soon she stopped as she began to inhale the smell of ammonia. She began to have doubts about exactly where it was coming from, causing her heart to skip. She soon brushed it aside, coming up with the more believable scenario that Miss Scratch must have just cleaned her floors recently, and that it was the smell of the floor cleaner.
As she continued deeper into the dark house, she lost sight of her host, arriving at a set of stairs before long. From the distance, she heard Vinyl call out to her, “Your room is upstairs, it’s the third room on the right, the bathroom should be the door right in front of your room. Hey Tavi, try to get some sleep, we are going to have a busy day tomorrow.”
Octavia was left a bit confused over her impromptu nickname but did not want to offend her only hope to remain in the academy. She called out, in an attempt to show her generosity, “Thank you, Miss Scratch,” but she never got a reply. At the same time, Octavia began to wonder what she meant by tomorrow. The sun was already up. Either way, she might as well see what was going to be her room for the next month.
She reached the top of the stairs and made it past the hallway. Along the way, something peculiar caused Octavia to stop. As she passed by one of the doors, a familiar aroma filled her nostrils: it was something warm, something she had forgotten. She quickly regained her senses and continued to her room. I have to make sure I don’t take advantage of Miss Scratch’s hospitality; whatever it is, it’s none of my business, she thought trying to convince herself not to delve deeper.
She continued on and finally reached her room. Upon opening the door, she was greeted by light passing through the first window she had seen since entering Vinyl’s home. The room was of simple tastes and with a simple bed, exactly as she preferred. Looking over the room, she noticed a stand for her cello was already set-up, and her bags were sitting next to it. She immediately removed her cello from its case and placed it on the stand, the sight of it begins to melt the doubts and stress she had away.
Becoming a bit more relaxed, Octavia proceeded to remove her bow-tie and put it on the side table next to the bed. As she shifted her gaze to her bed, a sudden feeling of fear consumed her. Why was she afraid of the bed? Brushing it aside, she proceeded to get into the bed, remembering Vinyl’s advice. Although she had no intention of sleeping, at the very least she could see how comfortable the bed was. As she got in, she heard peculiar noise. She couldn’t put her hoof on it, but it reminded her of her own bed back at home. For a brief moment she felt secure, a warmth passing over her, and without any volition of her own she fell into a deep sleep.