Octavia thought of herself as an honest mare, never lying and at worst keeping a secret or two. It was important to her that she be seen as honest, far from deceitful at that. Lying and being lied to were the quickest ways to tarnish trust between friends and family. For acquaintances, it flat out burnt the bridges.
True, Octavia had secrets to hide, as her wings and horns hidden beneath her layers of clothes were more than evidence of. But at least hiding a secret was a far cry from an outright lie. She never spoke falsely or acted out of deceit. To her parents and friends, she always honest about who she wanted to be, what she wanted to do, and where she was going to do it.
The gray alicorn, earth pony at the time, realized early on how deep of a doubled edged blade it was. Most ponies made fast friends with her, relieved to know they could count on her, and trusted that they would not be lied to. Others, however, saw the bluntness of her words to be more rude than kind, and thus, gave her an occasional negative reputation. They never bothered Octavia.
It wasn’t until she had met Vinyl, a mare so far and gone opposite to her, that Octavia realized the problems that arose with being honest. Though Vinyl preferred the late nights while Octavia herself enjoyed the early mornings, both mares were honest with what they did at those times. While Vinyl found Octavia’s preference for classical music with a cup of tea humorous, Octavia found Vinyl’s penchant for late nights with complete strangers in enclosed rooms to be horrifying. Honestly, Octavia very well may have preferred a lie.
Though honesty at those times was her enemy, she never let it keep her from telling the truth. What it did do, however, was teach her to hold her tongue. Avoid certain conversations, leave before questions were asked, divert attention if necessary, but whenever the subject of her rambunctious roommate and late night activities came into question, Octavia honestly kept her life a secret.
It was training, the gray alicorn now supposed, so she could hide herself without telling lies. But keeping secrets was not something she enjoyed, no matter how well Vinyl had unintentionally prepared her for it. They felt deceitful, underhoofed at that. Keeping something hidden from another pony for selfish reasons.
It was why, for one of the few times in her life, she felt horrible in the Orchestra’s Theatre Hall.
There was nothing wrong with the location itself. Rather, she loved being here. The delicate assembly of the seats and balconies, the padding used for the walls, the expert design of the flooring and ceiling, it was all so wonderful. It was here that she so often played her cello, in practice and performance.
It was a truly honest statement to say it was as close to perfection as reality allowed. The careful choice of material for every section of the hall kept the vibrato to a minimum, allowing every note, chord, and verse to be heard as clear a sound as the musician felt playing it.
So often Octavia would find herself playing on the stage alone, watching the empty red-padded seats, imagining the hall full to capacity as she danced across the strings with her bow. She would let the music carry her up, feel her head rise with shut eyes, as if to blindly adore the high ceiling, immaculately carved and secured with the design of an eclipsed sun.
From where she was currently sitting, she could clearly see her usual spot, first chair and the head of the section. It was no different than any other seat upon the stage, not in size or shape or color, but it was where it was located that made all the difference. Namely, that it was located up on the stage, and she, Octavia, was sitting in the pews of the audience. She was where the audience would usually sit, and she was wearing the long coat and top hat that hid her features, not the bowtie she preferred to adorn for performances.
Octavia hid, in every sense of the word, from something she loved.
She was in front of the Orchestra, the Canterlot Orchestra that she loved to be a part of, in complete disguise from her fellow musicians. She was in front of her colleagues, her friends, her career and joy, and hiding herself like a foal refusing to look an elder in the eye.
Octavia listened as the percussionists set up their drums and toms, aligning them for maximizing the carry of notes without drowning the subtlety of the strings. She listened as the brass section organized their trombones and trumpets, assembling the chairs with well-practiced ease. And of course, she listened as the strings organized their instruments by size, the small fiddles in the front to the giant basses in the back.
What Octavia wanted to do was wave to them, to join them, to talk to them about everything that had happened to her over the past few months. But she couldn’t, or, more properly, wouldn’t, at least not yet. She was resigned to watch them for now, hiding beneath colorful cloth and pretend that she didn’t know each of their names, their talents, and the music they loved to play. It was not a complete loss, however. She was still going to listen to the Orchestra, at least pretend for a time that she was a part of them again.
At least she’d like to, but three very important details kept even that simple imagination from happening.
Number one, her fellow guests surrounded her in the audience.
Number two, the collection of barbaric drums and guitars being added to the orchestra.
And number three, the events that had brought her here.
It was after she named all the offending realities that she realized why none of the Orchestra members had recognized her. It was rather hard to see a mare’s face while it was buried in her hooves. She didn’t have to look to see all of the problems with her ideal scenario of listening to the Orchestra.
There was a DJ with a neon mane sitting just to her right, just behind her was a silly pegasus with walled-eyes, another mare with a Stetson hat and blue bandana was leaning in the seat just in front of her, and far in front of them, sitting in the front row, were a pair of princesses, shining with regalia, their white and lavender coats glittering like a freshly polished cello.
“They’re doin’ an awful lot o’ work just ta get them notes flyin’.” The rurally accented voice of Fiddlesticks spoke from in front of Octavia. It was close to her, but that was probably the fault of the mare leaning back in her seat almost far enough to be in the gray alicorn’s lap. “Ah mean Ah get why it’s takin’ a country hour, but couldn’t they’ve done this ‘fore we got here?”
“Got that right Sticks,” Vinyl spoke from beside Octavia. Said gray mare didn’t need to look to know that her friend was wearing her signature grin as she spoke, probably nodding her head as well. No, definitely. “Can’t get the dancefloor rockin’ till that music’s blasting! Who invites the party before the speakers are ready?”
“Darn tootin’!” Octavia heard a quick clap just in front of her, likely the country mare and DJ slappin hooves together. She bit back a groan. This was not how proper mares were meant to act at the Orchestra.
“But where’s the food?” The innocent and slightly confused question came from behind the gray mare. Octavia resisted the urge pull her coat over her face. “If this is a party, there should be food. Dinky would love it if I brought her back some sweets.” Vinyl’s snickering almost made Octavia groan. Almost. She settled for digging her hooves deeper into her face, hoping to bury herself deeper as if her large coat was slacking at its job.
“Shoot darlin’, if Ah knew ya wanted some grub, ya should’a asked me early on.” Octavia heard Fiddlesticks adjust her seat, likely turning around to gaze at the bright-maned pegasus. “We had a good few hours till we got here, ‘n that castle o’ the sister’s wasn’t lackin’ in goodies to nibble on.”
“Oh I know, but Mr. Discord said this was like a party.” Octavia did not mishear the pouting tone in Ditzy’s words. “And desserts are the best part of parties. You can take them home as a reminder of how much fun you had. Then eat them.”
“That last part sounds more important to me.” Vinyl spoke up again. “But speaking of important things, why are you still hidin’ yourself Octy? Feelin’ shy on us?” Octavia felt her face flush, but it was more of anger than embarrassment. Vinyl had a way to incite both feelings from her with relative ease.
“I’m just….” Octavia spoke quietly from behind her hooves, searching for the best words to say. “Trying to cope.”
“Aw, cope?” Her best friend questioned, leaning in until Octavia felt the unicorn’s invasion of her privacy like the mane on her neck; far too close for any form of comfort. “But Luna and Discord said that you were the one who got this goin’. What’s there to cope with getting what you want?”
“Rude as Vinyl tends ta be,” Fiddlesticks spoke up, her voice rustic as ever. “She ain’t wrong in questionin’ that. Ain’t this where ya usually want ta be? Ya did mention it a time or two back at the orchard.”
“Oh, and you sounded so happy when Princess Luna said she was going to play with them!” Ditzy’s voice had taken noticeable upswing, in both pitch and volume. She was excited about something, like Vinyl with candy… or cider. “You kept saying she was really good at playing the piano and that it was a true art… or did you say that she was a work of art?”
She was wrong before. Octavia was very sure her blush was of embarrassment.
“Aw, give the gal a break. It ain’t every sunrise ya get ta see the mare ya admire in her element.” Fiddle’s words defended Octavia’s wholly uncomfortable predicament, but she could still sense the grin stretched across the apple mare’s face. “Mores the point, Ah’m impressed tha’ we got here a’tall. It ain’t every day the veritable ‘Lord a Chaos’ comes ta whisken ya up, leave it be for a music piece.” Octavia was further thankful to hear the mocking tone Fiddle adorned to Discord’s title. She felt glad knowing the mare had a similar attitude toward the draconequus. Specifically, a negative one.
“And Princess Luna was so kind in asking me to come,” Ditzy spoke up after the yellow doppelganger. “She arranged for a sitter for Dinky, got her dinner ready, and everything! Oh, I just wish we had more time to talk before we had to go. Maybe I could have gotten something to eat then…”
“Wasn’t too bad for me. Hardest part was convincing myself to come here.” Vinyl let out bluntly, with the same honesty that Octavia held prideful in herself. Pride was such an overrated and unusual emotion, she realized. “But when I heard Octy here needed a few friends for the crowd, how could I resist?”
Octavia dropped her hooves as she felt her friend’s leg wrap around her back, pulling her in for a quick hug. It was short and sudden enough to nearly make her wings explode from beneath her jacket. She had to thank Ditzy once more for her lessons, else they likely would have. But when the shock passed and her annoyance returned once more, Octavia saw it fitting to speak honestly to her friend in turn.
“Not that I think ill of your intent to help me, but I believe it was the promise of Discord’s music that persuaded you to come.” The hidden alicorn allowed herself a small grin, unseen by the others thanks to her attire. But, as it always was, Vinyl returned with her own overdone expression of joy.
“Well yeah, of course that helped! How often do you hear a dude like that make music?” Vinyl waved her hoof to the stage, to where said draconequus was standing, his back facing them with a black conductors coat across his long, lithe frame.
Octavia had to relent on that point. She was not aware of the kind of music Discord would prefer to listen to, if it was even considered music at all. For a random creature such as he, it was just as likely he would take the cacophony of chortling shrieking monkeys as the epitome of art. The evidence she had against such a theory was his joy, not misery, on being told to use the Canterlot Orchestra. That was an order from Princess Luna, the mare Octavia was glad she chose to help with this performance.
Though it seemed odd, Octavia had decided that to ask anyone else other than Luna would not be wise. As was usually the case with Discord, to help orchestrate a collection of instruments in short time, music included, and deal with the draconequus at the same time seemed too much of a task for a less-qualified individual. It served more of a point and secure reason to have the Master of Chaos and the Symbol of Order work together. She held no illusions that when Discord agreed he probably had an ulterior motive up one of his sleeves, proverbial or not, but she trusted him just enough to not ruin the music the Orchestra and Luna would create.
That was what Octavia had thought, until he quite literally popped Drifter into existence.
Conjuring the single-winged stallion in front of himself without a moment’s notice stunned Luna and Octavia as greatly as it had terrified Drifter. Octavia could still recall clearly the exact moment the pegasus had fainted… for the first time. It had taken near a dozen wakings and subsequent faintings to keep him conscious. It was only on the promise of Luna that he was in no way in danger that he managed to stay awake, though his fear was still as evident as the sun on a cloudless day.
“Ah’m just waitin’ ta see what that stick of a pegasus does.” Fiddle spoke again, breaking Octavia from her reverie of memory. “Nice stal’ and all, but the colt’s got about as much pride in his chest as he does meat on his bones.” To emphasize her point, the apple farmer beat one of her forelegs against the other, emphasizing the power in her limbs. Octavia looked down at her own, realizing another area she and her doppelganger were mismatched.
Octavia was just barely in shape, more due to the flight practice Ditzy and Luna had given her than any actual regiment for exercise. Fiddle, on the other hoof, was fit as, well, a fiddle. Octavia was grateful she had not spoken the thought aloud.
“Drifter is a nice pony,” Octavia heard Ditzy replied from behind her, words coming out like a pouting child. She turned to see the gray pegasus, only to find the mare’s mismatched eyes furrowed and snout scrunched in disappointment. Even her hooves were folded over.
“He’s just like me.”
The words had an immediate and jarring impact. Fiddle flew around, white hat nearly sailing from her mane as a look of terror took over her features. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape, and muscles stiff. Shock was the optimal word for it. Even Vinyl had whipped her head back to the pegasus, shades near falling from her snout. Octavia took it in stride.
She knew Ditzy well and she knew there was no malice in the pegasus’s words, just as there was no hamper in her flight. True, she likely saw some sort of similarity between her and the blue pegasus, both ponies of the sky and both challenged unfairly in some way. But where most ponies would see Ditzy as defensive of her misaligned eye, Octavia knew better.
But then, as Octavia expected of her now, Vinyl came to Fiddle’s unneeded rescue.
“Hey now Ditzy,” Vinyl spoke the pegasus name, as opposed to the offensive title she conjured a few hours ago. “Fiddle didn’t mean anything like that. She was just sayin’ he probably couldn’t handle working in the apple field like the rest of the stallions she knows. Kind of hard to see a stallion as attractive if he can’t even lift his own weight. I mean, how else is he going to lift y-”
“He is going to be a valuable addition to the Orchestra, I’m sure.” Octavia interrupted Vinyl when she heard in what direction the unicorn’s two track mind was drifting, and it wasn’t to music. Octavia smiled kindly at Ditzy before she spoke on. “And it is like Luna said. Discord, for all of his machinations, would not bring a pony to perform were they not ready in some way. Discord wants to entertain us… in his own way, but not disappoint us.”
The gray alicorn was thankful to see a beaming smile take over the golden-eyed pegasus, stretching wide and deep along her cheeks. It was accompanied by an equally deep sigh from the unicorn and earth pony. She heard them adjust their respective apparels before righting themselves in their seat.
“Yeah,” Vinyl let out. “And the big bad over there got the perfect pegasus for the job. I mean last time I saw Drifter he was shredding down the guitar like a pro.” Octavia watched as Ditzy’s smile fell and misguided eyes screwed. It was not of malice, but her puckered lips showed confusion.
“Why would Drifter try and shred a guitar? Is he getting a new one?” The question made the gray alicorn smile lightly, more out of appreciation for the flabbergasted expression it earned from the alabaster unicorn.
“Huh? Wha?” Vinyl let out, shaking her head lightly before outright thrashing it. Her neon locks aggressively beat left and right. It was amazing that her glasses didn’t go flying away. “No no no no no, shredding means he’s playing notes at lightspeed, like really fast. The dude cares too much about so much that he wouldn’t even waste a rotten apple.” That got the attention of another mare.
“Not even tha’?” Fiddle perked up at the statement, adjusting her white hat as she leaned further back in her chair, looking at Vinyl through the lavender shades. “What’s he do with ‘em then? There ain’t much a city slickin’ pony like him can do with a too ripe fruit.” Honestly, Octavia though that Vinyl was just throwing out another one of her ridiculous yet oddly accurate metaphors. Judging by the signature smile she put over her lips, however, she soon began to figure otherwise.
“I wouldn’t put Drifter in the city unless I had to, Fiddle,” Vinyl lightly spoke back before leaning over the seat in front of her. She crossed her forehooves over the red material, looking at the yellow earth pony with a sideward glance. “He’s got his own garden goin’ back out by his house, least he did last I saw him. I remember him throwing a set of brown bananas into a compost bin before we headed out to a set. I’ll tell ya, that blue pegasus is an entirely different pony when he’s on the stage.”
Octavia watched as the trio of mares looked up to the stage, currently in the final stages of preparation. All of the Orchestra chairs were ready, larger and bulkier instruments as well. A few of the string section members had already taken their seats, but the percussion section was simply waiting patiently while the brass just began to fill their own. It was taking longer, Octavia supposed, due to the equally bulky drums, guitars, and basses that were being arranged around the sections.
Drifter, the single-winged pegasus Octavia had met once before yet heard of thrice so far, was nervously dotting over each instrument, inspecting one with his hooves and wing before jumping over to another, speaking what the alicorn assumed were apologies to each pony he passed. None of her fellow musicians gave him an evil eye, but then again, none were so kind as to help him set up. That much did unnerve her.
She was thankful Princess Luna was not like the rest of her Orchestra. Ah yes, Luna, wearing something so far from her usual regalia that at first glance Octavia was breathless. No crystal jewelry was hung from her neck or was strapped to her hooves. No crown on her head and no guards that she could see. No, the Princess of the Night was dressed formally, yet still modestly.
She wore a pianist’s coat, complete with long coattails that split where her own sparkling blue tail extended. White cufflinks were extended down her forelegs, ending early enough to reveal her professionally manicured hooves. Octavia couldn’t make it out from the distance she was at, but she knew from her early encounter the cufflinks Luna wore. She was still having a hard time believing.
Purple Treble Clefs, matching by mirror in design.
Luna had said it was to be fair for Octavia, whom had insisted on playing the sparkling blue and lavishly finished cello. Were Octavia to play a so obviously personified instrument, Luna felt it fair to wear a symbol of the gray alicorn as well. It was likely due to the shock that Octavia was unable to voice that Luna would be playing to an audience far before Octavia would.
She took back her far previous thought. She was hiding her in her hooves because of embarrassment. It wasn’t often royalty complimented you in the way that Luna had.
“So, makin’ sure I got this right,” Vinyl began, leaning into Octavia as she pointed her hoof at the stage. “We got the Princess of the Night hitting the keys, a spineless but master guitarist settin’ up the good stuff, the rest of your pals handling the background noise, and Big Bad the Spirit telling them all what to do.”
“Yes, Vinyl, that is essentially correct,” Octavia spoke as she pinched the bridge of her snout with both hooves, hiding her eyes beneath them. “As you were so keen to scream and shout back at the castle, we are witnessing what will likely never happen again.” Octavia let out a sigh as she spoke the words.
It dawned on her earlier how significant this really was. Though her somewhat harsh words towards her neon-maned friend summed up what was about to occur, it did not deter the impact of knowing it was about to happen right in front of them.
True, when she consented to Discord that she would enjoy his paw and claw in orchestrating an event for her magic, she believed it would have been more spontaneous than what this appeared to be. Despite and in spite of the instruments, mixing on stage like oil and water, there was surprising amount of care going into their arrangement. That was likely the draconequus’ point.
However, after Discord dropped Drifter into the room, to the shock of near all present, Octavia had to settle the limitation that Luna helped. To be more accurate, she near begged the Lunar Princess to help, Octavia’s trust swinging far closer to the dark alicorn than the copiously compiled spirit. The elder mare was only too happy to volunteer to help, agreeing that the two working together would be the most efficient way to move Octavia forward.
That was another thought she didn’t like lamenting over, but one she was now forced to too often.
All of this was being done for her. Not while she was around, not because she was invited, but for the specific and intentionally purpose of both entertaining and testing her. While she was familiar with the parties her parents would throw for her birthday or celebrations for small life events, but this was on a scale far larger than all of them combined.
This… this felt like it was meant to be reserved for dignitaries of foreign lands, for the alicorn sisters themselves following the celebration of an eclipse, for the tribute of a great pony near the end of their life, or any other number of things on the grand scale. For her… a mare thrust into an extraordinary situation by extra normal means… it almost felt wrong.
“Careful Tavi, your self-pity’s showing.”
It took only those words from her friend to shake Octavia from her thoughts. She jolted in her seat, earning a surprised squeak from Ditzy behind, likely shocked by the sudden movements. Even Fiddle raised the brim of her hat at the display, more of curiosity than shock. Octavia herself had the visage of accusation in her eyes as she glared daggers at her friend. They didn’t pierce the thick coating of Vinyl’s lavender shades.
“Pardon me, Vinyl Scratch,” she spoke the DJ’s name for emphasis. “But I was not sinking into self-pity. I was only thinking about the circumstances that brought me to this moment. It would be hard for anypony to deny that the previous few months of my life have been anything but normal.” Though her gaze was focused on Vinyl, it was another one of her friends, more recent companions, that spoke next.
“Those sound like a lotta fancy words, but they’re as see-through ‘s Tart’s scarf after a summer’s day in th’ orchard.” Octavia looked forward and down, seeing Fiddle leaning back to look her in the eyes. The doppelganger had her own smirk now. Though not as prominent as Vinyl’s, it was hard to miss. “But don’t worry none about yer life strayin’ from normal. To have a bit ‘a flavor in life, now that’s a good thing.”
Octavia didn’t answer immediately, still catching up on the long metaphor Fiddlesticks had used to describe her quick speech to Vinyl. It sounded as if the mare was accusing her of lying, but that couldn’t be it. Octavia hated lying.
“Well yes… variety is necessary,” Octavia tentatively spoke, hoping she was jumping on the right train of thought. There was little else more awkward in a conversation than speaking of something that had already left the station.
“But if I may speak of my own thoughts, I was talking of how my life has... deviated from what I hoped it to be. That is not self-pity. Just… sad reminiscence I suppose.” Octavia sighed, head dropping and hat near falling from her head. Only her hidden horn kept it on. “I simply wished things would have stayed as they were for a tad bit longer.”
“But if things never changed, there would be no butterflies.”
For the second time in as many moments, the eyes of the mares turned to Ditzy. Before, it was out of sudden fear for insulting the mare for what should never be spoken of. This time, it was out of wonder, though with just as much shock.
Fiddle had pushed her hat up, eyes squinting at the gold-maned pegasus. She was regarding the mare two rows back as if she were a new kind of apple tree. Vinyl was much the same, but adjusted a different form of apparel. Her hoof was on the bridge of her shades, pulling them down just enough to let her lavender irises peak out. They looked at Ditzy with a wide gaze. Octavia herself had her lips shut, eyes focused, and ears perked. She only nodded in slow understanding.
“What?” Ditzy asked as the silence dragged on. “It’s what I tell my Dinky. She’s always scared that something will happen and we’ll have to move or she’ll lose a friend or she’ll stop liking strawberry muffins. Just because something changes doesn’t mean it’s bad. It just means it’s not the same.” The pegasus was playing with her hooves, clearly not comfortable, let alone used to, being the sudden center of attention.
“You know, kind of like me!” Ah, there she was, the honest pegasus with a heart that matched her mane; golden, long, and shining. Her bright smile, wide enough to force her eyes shut, beamed down upon Octavia. The gray alicorn could not help but smile in return.
“Leave it ta a pegasus ta see the obvious,” Fiddle mumbled out, scratching at her brow. “Course things have to change. Ain’t no way ‘round that. Probably the one area ya’ll agree with Discord, am I right?” Octavia turned from Ditzy to face forwards, looking down at Fiddle once more. She had her own grin, a grin that seemed odd on a face so much like Octavia’s own.
She was right, however. There were few areas that Octavia would find herself agreeing with the mad god. It had taken only a total of day’s worth of time for her to figure that one out. No decorum, no subtlety, no care for personal space, not even a filter to keep him from speaking aloud his more… questionable observations.
Wrapped altogether, it was easy to see why he and Vinyl had such a strong connection.
Octavia bit back a moan as she regretfully remembered Discord’s introduction to Vinyl, shortly after scooping the mare from their shared home. While Octavia held little worry that the DJ would be able to handle herself, what she did not expect was the outright joy she had for simply being able to speak with Discord. It was disconcerting in many more ways than Octavia believed she could have counted.
Ditzy came upon Luna’s request, the latter believing the honesty of the former was something that would be greatly needed in Discord’s long-term presence. Fiddle was grabbed by Discord, for there were no other words Octavia could use to describe the way the draconequus brought the apple farmer to Canterlot. What was more, he said he did it only to see the reason Octavia had traveled so far from home. The answer felt like a half-truth, so it likely was. Fiddle was noticeably shaken, wearing a face Octavia was sure perfectly mirrored her own from her first teleportation, but recovered far faster than she had. The gray alicorn had written it off as her superior fitness.
Vinyl, however, was the mare that Octavia knew she wanted to be with her through the coming events. No other pony in all of the land adapted to new situations quite like her friend, as being the first witness to Octavia’s… transformation and subsequent meeting with the princesses was evidence of. Still, Octavia had assumed that she would merely have to go fetch her friend, ask for her help shortly after her latest performance in whatever hovel she played in. Even Princess Luna spoke that it was a wise decision and spoke of informing her guards of the arrival.
But no, that would have been too simple for Discord’s taste. He had to pop around and find the DJ, whisking her away with whatever arbitrary or broad statement for his reasons the draconequus conjured in the moment. Of course he had to do what would absolutely terrify any other mare, stallion, or foal.
But then, just to add to the inanity of the situation, it only made just as much sense for Vinyl to be excited about the whole thing. Octavia couldn’t recall if she was shocked still or groaning in annoyance when her friend started cheering, popping into existence via Discord’s magic. Knowing her friend as well as she did, it was very likely the latter.
What followed next was a combination of the usual and the inane. With Octavia’s simple request for both the help of the Lunar Princess and Mad God, a plan for how to get Octavia to practice her newfound magical tendencies started to spin. She contributed minimally, though not for any lack of effort on the Princess’s or Vinyl’s part.
No, it was just that there was very little for her to contribute aside from opinion. She did not possess the boundless magic or imagination as Discord, nor did she have the pull and political sway like Princess Luna. She was a cellist, no matter her wings or horn, with little influence in the world.
“You’re doing it again.”
The words made Octavia blink. She turned to her friend… and nearly pulled back instantly. Vinyl was not put a hair’s length away from her, her lavender shades nearly encompassing all of Octavia’s vision. The unicorn’s brow was furrowed, buried beneath the rims of her lenses. Even her signature grin was hidden away, unseen beneath the frown on her lips.
“Doing what?” Octavia questioned in turn. The question only made the unicorn’s frown a near scowl. There was nothing malicious in it. More like… annoyed. It was still an odd expression to see Vinyl demonstrate.
“Whenever you start thinkin’ the wrong way, you get this really bad look on your face.” Octavia felt her mouth open at the statement. True, she slipped into thought often, but she hardly considered that she would ever wear a… trademark look while doing so. Her parents had taught her better than that. And thinking the “wrong” way?
“Pardon me Vinyl, but I believe my way of thinking is more correct than yours.” She knew she sounded superior, she knew she sounded high and mighty. But to be damned was she if she was going to let Vinyl tell her she was thinking wrong of all things.
“There’s nothing right about thinking that you’re not worth something.”
This time Ditzy and Fiddle saw fit to simply watch the conversation. Though Octavia did not turn her eye to them, she saw Fiddle’s hat turn and adjust itself followed closely by Ditzy’s near glowing gold mane wave at her tilted head. Vinyl paid them as much mind as the hidden alicorn. In truth, Octavia would have offered them at least a glance in recognition, but her wide gaze was locked too hard with DJ’s opaque lavender glasses.
It shocked Octavia, in all honesty, how much her friend’s words stung. Vinyl was not a mare that would lie, ever in fact. Octavia recognized long ago that her neon-maned friend preferred brutal honesty over sweet lies any day of the week and month of the year. Now Octavia only found herself loathing the position her friend’s words put her in.
“Look Octy, I get why you’re nervous,” Vinyl spoke on at Octavia’s prolonged silence. “Got two princesses and a bonafide god settin’ up one messed up concert for you. That isn’t somethin’ every mare gets to brag about. But,” she stopped momentarily, long enough to point her hoof at Octavia’s face. They were already so close, Octavia found herself leaning over the seat to her left just to have room between her and her friend. “I recognize that face of yours. You wear every time you come back from some recital or practice or audition from who knows where. You even had it last time you went to see your parents.”
“Vinyl,” Octavia spoke up, hoping she hit the perfect amount of bite in her voice. She saw no reaction through her friend’s lenses. “You’re reading too far into a few of my stray thoughts.”
“Actually, Ah gotta side with Scratch on this one.” Octavia’s brow rose high enough that she was surprised her hat didn’t fly off. She turned to her front, seeing Fiddle just in time for her yellow coated doppelganger to lower the brim of her hat over her own eyes, hiding them from view. The straight lips on her features, however, were more than evident.
“Fiddlesticks,” Octavia spoke the mare’s name, a sort of surprise in her tone. She hoped it sounded more breathless than petrified. “What… I beg your pardon, but what do you mean?”
“Ya spent just shy a week’s end with us girl,” Fiddle clarified the length of her stay, clearly for a future point. “And that was just a day ago tops. Dawn ta dusk, in the orchard or on the porch, Ah ain’t never once heard you mutter even a word of worth ‘bout yourself. Don’t get me wrong, you’re the orchard’s length away from some cryin’ foal, but self-confidence ain’t exactly yer middle name.”
Octavia thought that was the most shocking thing she had heard all day, at least until the music started. It turns out, as she should have expected by now, she was wrong.
“They do have a point, a sharp one too.” Octavia couldn’t even bring herself to turn around and face Ditzy. She settled for just letting her head loll onto the back of her cushioned seat, letting her wide eyes stare at the mural high above on the ceiling. Fortunately or not, the sight-impaired pegasus leaned over to face her instead.
“I mean, it’s not a bad thing to think you can improve. I tell my Dinky that she should always try and be better, but I never heard you say you were confident. You were so proud of Princess Luna, of classical music, and so many other things, but you never said you were proud of yourself. If my Dinky never said she was happy with herself, I’d be really sad.” Octavia wasn’t sure, not with her mind shocked to a state near catatonic, but she felt the gray pegasus was somehow asking her if her parent’s really cared about her. She thought that was a part of Ditzy’s speech, but again, she could barely string together the joint agreement that she was something she absolutely was not.
Unconfident.
She was Octavia Melody, First Chair of the Canterlot Orchestra Cellos, First Born and Proud daughter of the Melody Family, self-reliant and strong. Those were the things Octavia would use to describe herself, were she ever asked.
She wasn’t unconfident. She simply recognized the vast difference between her place in the world thus far and those that she interacted with. There was no fault or self-deprecation in that. One would hardly call the ponies who worked for Princess Celestia to be miserable. Why was she any different for thinking that way about Princess Luna?
“Up, there she goes again.”
Octavia frowned as she heard her friend chime in this time. She didn’t offer Vinyl her gaze. Instead she pinched the bridge of her snout. Ah, yes, this was how she looked when her hooves covered her face out of annoyance. It was slightly different than embarrassment.
“Are you unhappy, Octavia?” The gray alicorn heard the motherly tone from the mare behind her. It was cute, in all honestly, except when it was being used on her. Now it sat somewhere between condescending and disturbing. “If there is something bothering you, you can tell me… us. We’ll understand, I promise.” Motherly indeed.
“Yeah, we’re all friends around the levee,” Fiddle spoke up, wearing a grin Octavia couldn’t help but think was incomplete. It took her a moment to realize she needed a piece of straw sticking from her lips to appear as rustic as her yellow-coated twin was. “Ya can tell us what’s pokin’ in ta yer side.”
“C’mon Tavi,” Vinyl affectionately spoke the second nickname for the gray alicorn. It was no more welcome than her first. “We got some more time to kill before that royal jam session starts up. I can’t think of a better way to spend it then proving you wrong.” It was so odd, Octavia realized, how much affection and teasing was wrapped up in those words.
The hidden alicorn sighed, feeling the hat on her slink down over her eyes. Her jacket felt heavier, though she knew nothing was added to it. A part of her supposed it was her finally realizing the weight she had on her shoulders, but the more literal part dismissed it. Still, she was surrounded by… friends, as Fiddle had spoken of them. She only knew each of them for such a short amount of time, Vinyl aside, but did they really consider her a friend?
She looked down at Fiddle, who was still leaning back with a wry grin up towards her. Octavia turned back and looked at Ditzy, her wall-eyes managing to be charming above her bright and near glowing smile. She finally settled on Vinyl, and was surprised to see the DJ’s lenses lowered. They gave the alicorn a clear look at her friend’s dark lavender eyes, eyes that grinned like the smirk on her lips. Octavia didn’t need to see the smirk to know it. She was so expressive with herself that simply being near the unicorn made it clear what she was feeling. Octavia sighed as she looked down at her lap.
“I don’t believe I am worth this much effort.” She finally spoke clearly, feeling both miserable and relieved as the words left her. She didn’t need to look at her companions to know their expressions ranged from shocked to appalled. “I am but one mare in a unique predicament. I am not cursed, nor am I wounded or near death. Yet, I have been given the aide of the princess’s, privileges above most nobles, and even special circumstances for the events around me. I am not worth this. I want to be, but… I have not made myself worth this yet.”
For a time, the only noise amongst the group was the soft testing of instruments from the stage. A few keys being played on the piano, strings being pulled and tightened, the brass of trumpets cleaned, and the drums tested for their integrity. But amongst the mares, there was not a sound. That was, until the most expected mare broke the silence.
“That’s crap.” Octavia would have expected nothing less from her DJ friend. Apparently, however, Ditzy thought differently.
“Vinyl Scratch,” the gray pegasus spoke in a reprimanding voice. It sounded odd coming from a mare so warm and motherly. “That’s not a nice thing to say. Octavia was very brave to tell us that.” The alicorn felt her chest warm at the words. Ditzy truly was a maternal mare.
“Doesn’t mean it’s any different than crap.” Vinyl responded back, completing her thought with a snort. The alicorn could practically feel the heat from Ditzy’s glare, and it wasn’t even directed at her.
“Can’t say ya’ll are thinkin’ the wrong way,” Fiddle began, twisting in her chair and momentarily adjusting the vest on her back. “Except you Octavia. There ain’t nothin’ right about thinkin’ bad. Good news is, Ah know which trail ta send ya down.” The fiddle player pointed a hoof at the gray alicorn, her smirk no less present than before.
“And which way is that, may I ask?” Octavia was glad she understood the meaning behind the rustic mare’s cryptic words. It meant she would be getting out of this conversation that much sooner.
“Darlin’, ya gotta think of it this way,” Fiddle paused from her speech, most likely to give emphasis to what came next. “Stop thinkin’ of what you’re worth, and start imaginin’ what ya want ta do. Cause worship the words ‘er not, that’s how ponies think. Just think of Princess Luna. Do ya think she had ta help ya out?”
The question momentarily startled Octavia. Mostly because she truly didn’t know. The wry smirk on Fiddle’s maw said she had an idea of the true answer.
“Truth is, she doesn’t. Ain’t no mare or stallion gotta do anything. She’s helpin’ ya cause she wants to. She’s doin it, Octavia.” The mare stopped again, this time to push her fore hoof into Octavia’s exposed underbelly. The mare was going to voice a complaint, but Fiddle’s words beat her to the punch. Given their impact, it felt almost literal.
“She’s helpin’ ya because she wants you.”
With those words, Octavia’s face bloomed.
“Whoa-ho-ho-ho!” Vinyl let out with an increasing level of cheer in her voice. Octavia’s eyes were too well hidden beneath her hooves. When had they gotten there?
Oh, right, soon after her coat changed from gray to maroon. It didn’t help that her entire body felt stifled, the heavy jacket along her back only making it worse. She was sweating even, but that was because of the heat… surely.
“What’s wrong? Ah’m just callin’ out what I see. Who wouldn’t want ta give the poor mare a bit of a helpin’ hoof?” The words did not stifle Vinyl’s laughter. They only, without a doubt, made it worse. If the DJ doubling over herself, very near falling from her seat with laughter, was not evident enough, than the gray pegasus giggling behind her was more than definitely enough.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha! Ah-Ah helping hoof?!” Vinyl was nearly shouting through her laughter, hunched over in her red seat with her hooves over her gut. “I’m sure that’s just what Octy wants from her. Just one great big hoof!”
Octavia momentarily confused herself for Princess Celestia. She felt as ungodly warm and out of place as she was sure the solar princess usually was. With her hooves covering her eyes, hat cover her head, and jacket over the rest of herself, the mare doubted the situation could become much worse, not with the princesses already nearby.
It was only to justify the gray mare’s worries when Fiddle didn’t understand Vinyl’s jeering or Ditzy’s amusement.
“‘Course that’s what the girl needs,” replied Fiddle, obliviously, to the cackling unicorn. “Who wouldn’t want that from the princess?”
Octavia was a proud mare, but she was almost crying real tears of shame. She was certain Vinyl was already bawling, though their reasons could not have been more opposite.
It was only made worse when she heard Ditzy finally joining the neon maned unicorn in laughter. How did Ditzy, the most oblivious mare in their small group, understood the joke of Viny’s words before the country mare did? Maybe it was a maternal thing.
She started in the theatre with her hooves over her eyes, concluding that it was out of embarrassment for her friends and their actions. Somehow, despite all the many jumps in conversations they had, it felt like she was back at square one. And yet, she felt as if she were miles ahead.
Ah, c’est la vie.
When the cackling and howling laughter was heard from the audience seats, a great many members of the Orchestra stopped to see what was so amusing. Amongst those numbers was the Lunar Princess herself, her piano already prepared and tuned. Through her billowing mane, she saw it to be Octavia’s night-dwelling friend, DJ Vinyl Scratch.
The princess had to admit, she though she usually saw the unicorn expressing herself to large and often exaggerated degrees, the chortling laughter she threw out now was a bit… over the top. She didn’t need to turn to see Discord also observing the diverse quartet, his grin seemingly made of malleable plaster. Luna, however, was more focused on the mare responsible for her upcoming performance.
Octavia was ducking beneath her hat and coat, hiding much of herself from her friends and everything from the Orchestra players. Not an unusual action given that majority of the players on the stage with the princess were familiar with their first chair cellist. But still, the princess would have preferred to see the young alicorn to be a bit more… excited about the song.
Her cerulean eyes looked to her sister, regal and magnificent, as she always seemed to be. Her elder’s pink eyes gazed back at her, smiling knowingly. Luna grinned in return. Luna’s gaze drifted softly to Twilight Sparkle, the one-time protégée of her sister, now fully recognized Princess of Friendship. Despite her title, however, her appearance resembled that of a foal eagerly awaiting their story.
The once-unicorn had accomplished much before her reign, of that no one could deny. What was only more impressive was what she did following her coronation. It took much effort to impress the Lunar Princess, yet the young Element of Magic had done just that, near time and time again.
For a length of time longer than Luna would care to admit, she had thought that Twilight would be the only mare to ever truly impress her, likely the reason Celestia took such a liking to her. Few other ponies were as dedicated as she, and even fewer still had the intelligence to match. It only made sense that she would strive for the impossible, and just as logically complete it.
That was what Luna thought, until she met one Octavia Melody.
She still clearly recalled the gray mare entering her court, wearing the same coat and tall hat she adorned now. Also the same as now, her brightly maned friend accompanied her, wearing enough confidence to make up for the clear trepidation the gray alicorn once had. It was a surprise to Luna, seeing another alicorn so unexpectedly, but she knew now it was a blessing in disguise.
Octavia saw Luna as her hope in a hopeless situation.
Luna saw Octavia as her chance for redemption.
So many mares and stallions had been kind to Luna upon her return, happy to see her and eager to meet her, but so few saw her for any more than that. A favor perhaps from her court, advice in realm of politics, but near everything came back to her role as a princess, never for the mare that she was. Octavia was the first to require exactly that.
Luna didn’t advise Octavia, she taught her. She didn’t send the young and frightened mare off on errands, she taught her tasks and regiment. Octavia was her student, and that was something Luna had never had before.
She was patient with the young cellist, waiting for her to be ready for every next step, learning with Octavia as she herself taught. That patience was rewarded faster than she thought it would be. It was mere weeks, not months, before Octavia began warm to her presence. It was just a month, not years, before her title was dropped entirely.
Without any guidance or request, they became simply Luna and Octavia to one another, no longer princess and plebe.
That same dark alicorn, dressed now in a pianist’s coat, adjusted the cuffs at the end of her hooves. Rare were the times she ventured from the castle without her regalia, rarer still were the moments she would show her art, not just her magic, to the world. Octavia had changed that, out of request and necessity. Luna was all the more willing to help.
She watched as the source of her growing joy finally lifted her head from her hooves, pushing her neon-maned friend in a manner that was thoughtfully playful. She saw Ditzy behind her put on a worried look, but the chuckling of one Fiddle Sticks made the mood far lighter. Of course, it did help that Vinyl was grinning like Discord after one of his tricks. Luna gave the other mares only sparing glances. Her eyes were on the hidden gray alicorn.
Though her face was flushed with what was likely embarrassment, Luna did not pretend to see the smile that was pulling on the younger mare’s features. She wanted to see her wings spread wide, enjoying the strength they had gained. She wanted to see her horn stand long and tall, showing the magic she was capable of.
She wanted Octavia to be proud, proud like Luna was proud of her.
But she was thinking too quickly, she realized with a small snort and shake of her head. She was fortunate alone that Octavia had grown used to her company, them seeing one another as more than their titles or strengths. Patience had rewarded her once, so she could wait again. Luna only had to ensure her patience was not idle.
For now, it was kind to Luna’s heart to see Octavia and her friends laughing so well together. She had to wonder momentarily what was so amusing. With Ditzy within their numbers, she knew it was far from the expense of any pony. In truth though, the reason mattered little, at least to Luna.
What truly mattered was that Octavia was accepting who she was. Acceptance was key, but pride was the goal. Luna smiled as she watched Octavia once more. She would get there soon, the Lunar Princess was confident of it.
“Uh, no-no, that shouldn’t go there, no acoustic, that’s not balanced.” Luna’s musings and voyeurism was sidetracked by the nervous voice, muttering beside her. It took only a glance for her cerulean eyes to fall on another blue coated pony, though far smaller than her in size and missing one horn and one wing. She approached him carefully, already noting more than once his nervous attitude.
“Are you feeling alright?” Princess Luna asked the single-winged pegasus. She only raised a brow as he nearly jumped from his skin. His eyes were wide when they focused on her, despite having met her already, near a day ago in fact. It was an unfortunate fact that Luna was used to such hesitation in her presence. “Do you have parasprites?”
“H-Huh? What?” Drifter immediately returned, his voice far higher in pitch than Luna suspected it naturally was. “I-I don’t understand your highness-no, your grac-no no, your majesty.” Luna took in a deep breath of air at his luckless rambling.
She hid her disappointment with herself, as she likely spoke the expression wrong. She was sure that hesitation was compared to butterflies, but maybe she forgot an important detail. Perhaps there was a location it was referred, over the eyes perhaps. No… that didn’t seem right.
“Oh!” Drifter spoke up, momentarily surprising the musing alicorn. “Y-You mean butterflies in my gu, Gah-I mean stomach, right, yeah, yes?” Though he was correcting her, a genuinely appreciated point, he was doing it with all the grace of a diapered foal. She grinned slightly at the analogy, a grin that Drifter saw. “Oh good, I was right. Oh thank Cele-Gah! I-I mean you, yeah! Wait, do I thank you for you?”
Now Luna was chuckling. It was hard not to in the face of such evident skittishness. Just that act alone made his single wing fall, near lying on the floor as evidence to his feelings.
The dark alicorn saw much of another pony in Drifter, a young mare named Fluttershy to be precise. Their first meetings were quite similar filled with fainting and desires to be anywhere else. It only became more evident as both also shared a level of timidity that would cripple most ponies. The key difference between them, color, gender, and occupation aside, was the energy that Drifter had.
To Luna’s own observations, he appeared to be very energetic. It may have been a fortunate, though by no means equal, trade-off with losing his wing. When a strong will cannot do what it loves most, it spends all its energy looking for something new. The lesson had the ring of truth as the Lunar Princess continued to gaze at Drifter, him trembling before her, needlessly at that. Though a strong will was not what most ponies would attribute the skittish stallion to have, she knew from experience upon centuries that strength took more forms than one.
“Please, be at ease,” Luna spoke the phrase for the umpteenth time. She only had to speak it twice to Fiddle and never to Ditzy or Vinyl. They had no more impact on the pegasus now than they did before. He still shook, he still trembled, only now he was bowing in apology.
“I’m sorry, really sorry. So sorry that I’ll promise to-to-to-to say anything at all. Wait, no that’s bad. Um…” The relief Luna felt as his rambling tapered off gave her a guilty feeling. He was stumbling for long enough that it was bound to happen. Good that it was done so she could help lift him up.
“Please,” she spoke the word again, knowing well the little impact it would have. “Focus not on my title, but on your purpose here.” His eyes, though lacking nothing in size or constriction, did wear a small look of bemusement. So the princess spoke on.
“I am not your princess in this moment, nor are you any pony’s subject. You are a musician, brought here by a venerable though questionable spirit who has confidence in you. Though it is far from common, it is not an opportunity to be wasted.” Luna placed her hoof on the smaller stallion’s shoulder, noting lightly that he didn’t shiver or freeze at her contact. A good thing, doubtlessly. “Relax, act as you would during a normal performance, and know that no one is more capable of this task than you.”
For a moment, a moment that was doubtlessly an eon for the young pegasus, Drifter stared up at the Lunar Princess, eyes just as wide and filled with marvel as their first encounter. This time, however, he did not faint nor stumble upon his hooves. He simply stared, enraptured by her words and visage. It was the best way to be praised; while her title was forgotten.
“I… I will,” Drifter spoke in a much calmer voice, though filled with no less energy than before. Luna was pleased to see his smile grow as time continued to pass. “I’ll do that, I’ll… I’ll do excellent! Yeah, I-I’ll make this my best set yet! Before I got clipped, before I met Vinyl! Yeah, this’ll be great, I know it!” Not forgetting himself, the pegasus bowed deeply to his majesty. This time, it was a natural act. “Thank you, princess. I won’t let you down.”
Content with his words of encouragement, he left the princess’s presence, trotting a short distance to a set of bass guitars, as he described them. He started to fiddle with the strings as another pony observed him. Their lips started moving as Drifter started pointing, explaining something beyond the earshot of the alicorn. She smiled warmly at the display.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” A callous voice asked, wiping any momentary joy Luna had. Her smile become a depressed scowl as the familiar and still alien body of Discord wrapped around her, but never touching her. “Tell a pony a few well-placed words and they fall over themselves trying to impress. For whoever said actions spoke louder than words, clearly they never heard a princess speak. You and your sister can stir up a lot with just a few phrases.” His chuckle gave her no joy.
“It is the truth that stirs a pony’s will, Discord,” Luna spoke to the draconequus, knowing that ignorance of his presence would only encourage his act. “Honesty is what a pony needs to hear.”
“Then correct if I’m wrong, and I know I’m not, but did you not say you had confidence in him because I brought him here?” Luna felt a tug in her stomach, forcing it to drop like a stone. The feeling must have showed on her face, as the mad god started to giggle again. She heard a familiar pop of his magic, twice. She looked over to see him floating in the air now, seemingly too much effort to move without the use of his seemingly unfatigued magic. “Did I hit a nerve? I thought you enjoyed the truth. There are plenty of truths about yourself I’d enjoy to hear.”
“My mistakes of the past are known well and reminded of often. I have mediated them with near all others, and my rule since has been free of blemish.” Luna could not hide the venom in her words, not for a creature as twisted as the draconequus.
“Oh yes, I am well aware of all that,” Discord admitted with a shrug of his arms. “A pity, really. You were so much more interesting while conquest was on the mind. It made at least one of you two interesting.” It wasn’t hard to figure who the other pony was. It was still annoying, seeing the mad god materialize a sword and helm into existence, waving the former as he donned the latter.
“The role my sister and I play is far opposite of conquest,” the princess continued with a slight frown. “We seek to aid, not to harm. We aim to bring laughter, not jeers. We are here to assist our ponies, just as you are here to assist another.”
“Oh, assist nothing,” Discord threw the sword aside, letting it vaporize itself into thin air. “I’m here for the entertainment. If that means I have to take a more active role to have the show go on, I’m more than happy to provide what I can!” To emphasize his point, Discord took off his helmet, flipping it over in his paw and claw. Holding it still for a moment, he turned it over, letting pour out a strange liquid that only frequency kept Luna from backing away from. Sure enough, when the strange fluid stopped spilling, Discord again emerged from it. His floating double was gone.
“But being a part of the show does give me a few new vantage points. For example, I thought Octavia was only mare I’d get to watch learn a thing or two,” The conductor suit-wearing draconequus leaned over towards Luna, wearing his same crooked grin and miss-matched eyes. Luna gazed at him unblinking.
“You’ve done a fair bit of changing yourself.” Luna felt her eyes narrow rather than widen.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” The draconequus only chuckled. It was still a far more subdued expression of his likely eternal joy.
“Oh nothing, nothing at all.” He leaned back from her, walking around her and towards the center podium of the orchestra. His serpentine body twisted to let him offer her an amused twisted grin. “Just watching the garden grow.”
Luna hid her confusion well as Discord finally floated away.
“Are they starting now? I think they’re starting,” Ditzy spoke from behind Octavia, making the gray alicorn focus on the stage. She removed Vinyl from beneath the crook of her forehoof, held in a headlock the same mare had put her in shortly after their first meeting. She was surprised at how good it felt, making a disrespectful pony apologize.
Vinyl, as she rose from her playfully captured position, didn’t appear perturbed by the situation in the slightest. With only a realignment of her glasses and shake of her mane, she was back to the grinning and confident DJ she always was. All four mares looked forward at the gray pegasus’s words, watching as the outlier of the ponies, the near ten foot tall draconequus, floated and twisted to the center of the stage. Octavia was not surprised to know he could not even walk three feet without being odd about it.
“He’s lookin’ like he’s ready, but that varmit ain’t an easy tree to buck.” Inappropriate euphemism aside, and ignoring Vinyl’s freshly rekindled chuckling, Octavia realized her doppelganger had a point. Reading Discord was about as easy to read as running with your hooves tied together.
“He’ll be ready soon. We just have to be patient,” Ditzy spoke again, and Octavia did not even have to glance to know the sight-challenged mare was smiling brightly. “I’m sure he will make something amazing to listen to. I almost wish Dinky was here to hear it.”
“I think your daughter is better off far away from the creature,” Octavia could not stop her mouth from speaking the words, but she did not regret them. She was thankful to see nothing objectionable focused on her. At most, Vinyl only chuckled a bit more as Fiddle adjusted her hat.
“Well, he’s not exactly what I’d call family friendly,” Ditzy admitted. Octavia spared a glance this time, seeing the gray pegasus drop her head as if in defeat. The gray alicorn hadn’t an idea what she should feel ashamed for. Perhaps it was more of the over empathetic mare relating to the mad god. “But he is fun. Funny, too.”
“When the bloke ain’t workin’ some angle we’re too many paces back ta spy, sure.” Fiddle muttered from in front of Octavia. The hidden mare had to spare at the words. It was good to know her yellow-coated double was quick to realize the personality of the mad god. It was the first step to remaining safe in his presence. “But Ah reckin’ your right ‘bout one thing, Ditzy.”
“Hmm? What’s that?” Fiddle, instead of adjusting her seat to look at the golden-eye mare, instead pointed her forehoof forward, aimed towards the stage.
“The’re rearin’ and ready ta go.”
Octavia focused her attention on the stage at the words, as did the farm pony, family mare, and the DJ beside her. By observation of the settings, the instruments were all set up an aligned, the sections properly spaced, leveled, and separated. The chairs were set by their appropriate placing, to maximize the acoustics without dampening their volume. Even the horrifically introduced “instruments” from Drifter were positioned where they most appropriately belonged, the trash aside.
Said stallion was standing next to the strings, just beside the cellists but behind the second and third chairs of the violins. The instrument about his neck dictated the position. A guitar, as even Octavia could name, strung with five strings and stretching the long neck of the metal cast instrument. Metal, or some polymer of plastic, not the hard oak of wood. Drifter himself appeared at least a bit more confident than the hours before, no longer shifting uncontrollably or splitting his gaze. He was focused forward, his lips stiff, and holding his instrument tightly. Perhaps a bit too tightly, as the flexed wing hugging his back showed.
As if to perfectly contrast him, Octavia saw Princess Luna, just preparing to sit down, herself the image of poise and perfection. Her ethereally billowing mane hung behind her, hiding nothing of her face and dark coated carriage. Her eyes were lidded, focused only on the dark stained piano beneath her. She sat the pew, hooves hovering over the keys as Octavia’s would her cello’s strings. Her wings were against her side as well, but clenched far softer than Drifter’s singular appendage. The Lunar Princess looked into the minute crowd of the audience, and she smiled as her eyes settled on Octavia.
A quick and silent conversation was shared between them, separated by several rows observed by not a pony in the orchestra or around the cellist. It ended as quickly as it began, with Luna turning back to her piano, a new smile placed upon her lips. Octavia lightly turned away as well, a blush upon her own cheeks.
Not a moment after she did so, Discord spoke.
“Good evening my, oh so, trusted and faithful audience.” Octavia wasn’t sure where he placed his sarcasm in that sentence. They hardly trusted him, faith further away from that, and they hardly qualified as an audience. “It is my pleasure to lead this once in a lifetime opportunity, conducting a song with her royal highness, Princess Luna.” Octavia faced the same problem with the second statement as she did the first. The only thing she agreed with was the rarity to which the orchestra played with, not to, the princess. Though tonight they were doing both…
Her thoughts were momentarily distracted as the sound of clapping echoed behind her. Startled, Octavia turned to see Ditzy performing the deed, smiling in blissful unawareness to the solitude of her gratitude to Discord’s words. Even as her hooves back to her lap, she held a grin as bright as the sun, eyes unequally looking forward. Octavia bit her tongue from making a comment. She was more thankful Vinyl and Fiddle followed suit.
“Well, I’m certainly glad at least one pony is as ready for this as I am,” Discord spoke from the set again, bowing in a crooked manner towards the Ditzy. “But it would be such a shame to have this grand orchestra play to what I could barely consider a crowd.”
Octavia heard, just barely, Celestia making a comment towards the draconequus. She almost missed it, the regal alicorn’s back facing her and so many rows up ahead of her, but by the softest of vibrations and the accumulated attention of the ponies on stage, she knew it was the voice of the Solar Alicorn that caught Discord’s gaze. Not a moment later did Luna follow suit, equally as unheard as her sister.
Though the darker and younger sibling was on the stage, she was too indirect with her words. They didn’t vibrate past the open frame of the stage, hardly making it into the theatre hall. The gray alicorn supposed that was the point. It was a conversation between the royal sisters and the mad god. She was hardly surprised they wished not to make it any more public than it already was.
“Oh, I don’t mean to draw in those boring ponies of yours,” Discord spoke an answer to a question neither Octavia nor her friends heard. “They’re too dull, too restricted by what’s safe and usual. We do need a crowd, but it should be a crowd that really knows what to expect. It makes the surprise all the more beautiful to see.”
Apparently the draconequus was done with conversation, no matter how short it was. For as he spoke, he raised his claw into the air, gripping between two of its talons a conductor’s baton. Octavia had to stare at it for a moment longer than a second to realize how crooked it was, so unbalance. It was appropriate for the mad god. But as his claw rose, so too did his paw, holding themselves over his head as if he were about to command the percussionists to play a crash.
Instead, with a quick wave of his claw and snap of his paw, he ordered his own magic.
When several loud bangs rang through the theatre, within the seats of the audience and not the stage above them, Octavia held back a groan. She knew what happened, even with the lights of Discord’s magic momentarily blinding her. She knew in an instant that she did something both expected, yet twisted just enough to be alien. Oh, he filled the seats of the theatre, but he filled with them with occupants Octavia never expected to see in the masterfully crafted hall. Begrudgingly looking to her left, she saw exactly who the occupants were.
Discords. Specifically, hundreds of tiny, undressed, twisted grinning, Discords. Octavia felt her face fall into a dejected gloom.
“Discord,” Octavia heard Luna’s voice easily enough now. Shouting had that benefit. “What is the meaning of this?! Does thou intend to turn this work of art into a farce?!”
“Oh, don’t be so hasty to judge, princess,” the assumingly original Discord responded to the Lunar Princess. He adjusted the conductor’s suit he adorned momentarily wearing a look of focus before dashing it away, wearing again his usual visage of off-putting glee. “You agreed that we needed an audience, and this just seemed the most appropriate. I wouldn’t want to stop what I do, so therefore I’m the perfect audience to myself. I’m sure me, myself, and I agree?”
Without a doubt done for the intended mockery of the Lunar Princess, all of the miniaturized Discords in the audience began to cheer, whistle, and holler toward the stage. Octavia buried herself into her hooves again, already done thinking about the manipulation of what was once her comfortable, safe haven.
“Are you feeling well?” A concerned question came from beside her. The gray mare knew well enough that who it belonged to, as none of her friends spoke with a baritone voice. She spared a glance, hoping beyond hope that Discord would surprise her now. The first thing she saw was Discord, now matching her in height, leaning in towards her with puckered lips. It was only the wideness of his eyes that kept Octavia from thinking he intended to kiss her. “I thought you of all mare’s would enjoy being in the crowd at the theatre.”
“Must you make a jest of even my paradise?” It was a whine, a blatant and foalish whine. It was the kind of whine that would normally make Vinyl drop her shades and groan in disappointment. The kind of whine she swore she would stop. But for now, with the farce that was being performed around her, she could not help it.
“A jest?” the Discord beside her questioned. “While I do enjoy a good joke, maybe a bit of a prank, I would hardly waste all this effort for a simple jest.” Octavia gave him a dry look, believing as much of his words as she did enjoy drinking rotten milk. “Oh don’t give me that look, the sun and moonbutt sisters up there are giving me enough of that.”
As if to test his words, Octavia looked forward, seeing honesty, for once, in the draconequus’s words.
Luna was giving the formerly dressed Discord a look dry enough to drain a lake of its moisture, perhaps even putting a desert to shame. She could only assume Celestia was offering him much the same, at least by the way he almost gleefully turned from one mare to the other. It was only through his constant shifting that Octavia paid rent to look at the other members of the Orchestra.
For the most part, they acted as stunned as she believed them to be. Many of her colleagues were putting their respective heads between their hooves, looking left and right about the many mad gods that dotted the seats. She knew they were used to playing for the more… controlled of stallions and mares. This was as far outside their comfort zone as possible. Octavia should know, she had been there for the past few months.
To give her colleagues the credit they so well deserved, not one appeared to be debating leaving. None rose from their seats or lowered their instruments. If anything, it appeared that a select few were gripping them tighter. She recognized a stallion friend of hers in the percussion section, leaning over his drums as if to defend them. He did love the tools as she loved her own cello.
Though now that she thought about it a bit more, they likely were trying to protect their instruments. After all, the two most powerful ponies throughout the land were arguing with the most random and unpredictable spirit to ever curse Equestria. It was not a formula Octavia would label successful no matter her state of mind.
“Do you think Dinky would like this?” Despite the noise of the many interacting Discords and heated mares up front, the question reached Octavia’s covered ears. She turned in her seat to see Ditzy speaking with one of the miniature Discords. This one, for a reason the alicorn could not fathom why, was wearing a rainbow-striped bowtie. Maybe it was to make himself more unique. But, he was holding his claw just beneath it, presenting it almost. It took that long for Octavia to realize Ditzy was giving the accessory a critical eye. She had no idea where the other was looking.
“Hmm,” the pegasus muttered, hoof scratching her chin. “She does like rainbows. But she doesn’t like ties, they’re too tight on her.” Octavia realized quickly she was jumping in the middle of a conversation. She wished silently she knew how it began. “Maybe a cape. She likes to play super-mare a lot. She’s very good at jumping off the bed.” Oh yes, Octavia was deftly curious how this select conversation was strung up. But before she could pose the question, she was distracted by another nearby conversation.
“Apples n’ oranges?” The question came from her yellow coated doppelganger. Octavia turned back to see the white hat of Fiddle pushed upwards, her eyes twisted in scrutiny as she talked to one of the many mad gods beside her. While Discord was not an easy figure to describe, it was quick to see how the one Fiddle spoke to differed from the others. He had a literal apple and orange for an eye, left and right respectively.
“Of course! What’s the fun in having the same food every day? That must get awfully boring.” Octavia was oddly thankful to see a look of slowly boiling rage appear on Fiddle’s face. Knowing how much the pair looked alike, Octavia was sure their expressions of anger were near identical as well. It was almost comforting to see the image of herself mad at Discord.
“Now listen here, partner,” Fiddle began with a poke of her hooves. The small push made the fruits drop from Discord eyes, leaving only empty sockets. The farm pony was surprisingly nonchalant about the display. “There ain’t nothin’ borin’ ‘bout our orchard’s apples. They’re the sweetest fruit ya’ll will ever taste and there ain’t no way, no how, any right minded pony is ever gonna’ raise a hoof ‘er voice ‘gainst that.” It was nothing short of perturbing to see Discord’s twisted grin grow at the words.
“But wouldn’t the delicacy of that apple be made all the better when next to a lesser comparison?” Octavia was hard pressed to name a more leading question she had heard before in her life. Sadly, and near mortifyingly, it appeared to be the first time Fiddle had heard it. That was what the alicorn assumed by the yellow mare’s suddenly slack jaw and wide eyes. Even the brim of her hat fell a few inches over her gaze. It made the now-eyeless Discord chuckle.
Octavia was ready to voice herself in defense of her friend, the mare whose fiddle playing and family bonding had brightened her weekend with considerable grace. It was the very least in a great many of actions she could do to pay her back. But before she could, she was interrupted by another conversation. This was from her right and, unfortunately, exactly as jovial as she would have expected its two participants to be.
“How about these two?” The question was posed from Discord, undeniably. He was doubtlessly referring to something either being held in his unequal forelimbs or, far more likely, indicating a part of his suddenly changed body. Octavia found his behavior a strange mix of predictable and surprising.
“You’d have to focus on the chorus more in that one,” she heard her DJ friend speak back, her voice hiding little of her excitement, like she ever did. “But boost the bass when you hit the second verse in that track and you’d get a killer set! Might even get ice queen’s melting, if you know what I mean.”
Octavia didn’t have the courage to look toward her friend after that statement. Instead, when the near malicious laughter of Discord and Vinyl floated to her over the sea of sound in the theatre, she buried her face in her hooves again. She wondered if that counted as exercise by this point. She was doing it often enough.
“Oh what a simply delightful sight that would be,” Discord agreed following his amused chuckle. “But why stop there? What if we add a track or nine? Maybe we can turn fire to ice and then to sand.” The sentence was simply terrible, in more ways than Octavia could name. So, naturally, Vinyl loved it.
“Oh yeah! Add some smooth jazz between the rock solo and you’d get the ponies doin’ the Charleston down on the floor!” Her friend’s laughter had never sounded so ominous before, not even compared to her usual pranks. May the princesses bless whomever her friend set her gaze on.
“Why stop there?” The Discord beside her friend asked. “Why not add some classical and unheard song before. No pony expects what they’ve never heard. Now where could we find a mare to help us with classical music? If only there was a mare recently made more open to music trained in classical music all her life. Oh if only there was a mare such – oh look!” His voice suddenly perked. Octavia groaned, knowing full well what was coming next. “It’s Octavia.”
The silence between the three of them did nothing to help Octavia’s churning rage. It was only made worse when she practically heard Vinyl’s wide grin.
“Oh yeah, Octavia, good to see you,” her now questionable friend spoke, as if they hadn’t been talking for the past few hours. “You wouldn’t happen to have a few rocking chords for your violin lying around, would you?” So out of mind was she that Octavia didn’t even have the idea to correct Vinyl on her improper addressing of the instrument.
Why was she here again? If she recalled, it was a joint idea between her, Luna, and Discord, though not it felt as if that was an impossible thing, either alicorn agreeing with the now copiously number mad god. Maybe it was about music, that seemed likely. But between the discussions of rainbow apparel, changing apples for orange, moving guitars into the orchestra, and listening to her friend plot her doom, listening to music seemed rather… unlikely at this point.
“Why are we here again?” Octavia found the question finally leaving her lips, muffled slightly beneath her hooves. She was hoping asking it aloud would give her mind a new sense of clarity. It worked often for Vinyl, though it usually involved screaming. What she did not expect was an answer.
“Why I do believe it was to listen to music, then we’re supposed to group and talk about it. But isn’t it great when things happen out of order?” Octavia turned a slow and narrowed eye to her left, staring at yet another miniature discord, one of near few hundred that littered the room like unwanted tissues. He had a short gleam to his smile, lips covering all but his single enlarged tooth. “Gives you a chance to think things over, imagine a few new possibilities.”
“Or perhaps wonder about the existence of the inane.” Octavia hoped her voice had extra bite in it, directing the words towards the copiously compiled creature. Discord, as she should have expected by now, seemed to enjoy it. She hoped she would never have to see the act literally. It was a very real fear considering whom she was speaking to.
“Yes, that’s an excellent point!” He directed one of his talons at the hidden alicorn. “I do want to play a song with that ever so skittish pegasus, but why waste the opportunity to speak with all of you? I could only expect you would all run for the hills as soon as we were done.” Octavia couldn’t deny her desire to be rid of his presence. She was starting to second guess his credentials at this point.
“So you hoped to satiate your desire for fun before you began?” Octavia didn’t even care what her questions stirred up now. Unless Discord would break his promise and expose her, here and now, to her the Orchestra she loved to belong to, there was very little else he could do to haunt her. Unfortunately, again by the gleam of his teeth, he seemed to realize that.
“Oh, come now, Octavia, I expected at least a little more from you.” He cajoled her critically, an action that nearly made Octavia slam him into the seat. She still had a tuba in her head, ready to blow and take control of her magic. “No no no, though that’s not it at all, but if you haven’t got it yet, I don’t suppose there is anymore use planting around the bush.” That metaphor seemed improperly stated- or used; one of the two.
Before she could voice those words, Discord’s voice rang out across the audience… of himselves. It took Octavia’s shifting head to see that it was the Discord on the stage speaking, still dressed in a conductor’s suit.
“Settle down everyone, settle down.” The words would have normally done very little to Discord. When every draconequus in the audience simultaneously became quiet, Octavia swiftly concluded it was because he was listening to himself. A few odd thoughts passed through her mind about that.
“Before we begin this grand piece, I believe we must first thank the ponies who have made this possible.” A cold sweat settled over Octavia, despite the clothes she wore. “First and foremost, the Canterlot Orchestra!”
With a wave of his paw and claw, the latter gripping a conductor’s baton, the crowd of miniature Discord’s began to cheer. Normally, the verbose action would have insulted her. In fact, it still did. But she saw something else that made the action of the mad god… less insulting.
The faces of the orchestra’s members. Their pleased faces.
Octavia was caught wondering if she would wear such an expression regardless of who complimented her. She certainly hoped not. They looked as if a few sweet words would make dancing with the devil an enjoyable act. Perhaps this was how Vinyl saw her originally. Again she rather hoped not.
“Yes, a round of applause!” Discord waved his hand as if were controlling the volume of the cheers. He very possibly was. “And though they have taken it upon themselves to help us perform this unique piece, we cannot forget another very special pony.” The sweat had returned to Octavia. “Overcoming his understandable hesitance to perform in public, this wonderful stallion is doing what so few ponies would do to make this night memorable. I ask of you to cheer for the One-Winged Angel, Drifter!”
Though the cheers returned just as loudly and guttural as the first time, Octavia was far more focused on the blue pegasus in question. Namely, how his expression wore the visage of shame and wonder all at once. The shame was easily due to the name, drawing attention to mistakes. The wonder, however… well it was likely he was unused to recognition. It would explain his clear trepidation. If that was the case, Octavia was truly impressed he was still standing and not lying on the ground with an over-heated expression.
“But we have but one more mare to thank before we begin this wonderful performance.” Octavia could literally feel ice form in her gut. It was rather uncomfortable. “And that is the wonderful alicorn whom without we would not even be able to dream. One last applause for the the Lunar Princess herself, Princess Luna!”
Though the cheers were just as great and the volume no less grand, Octavia could only find one word to describe Luna’s expression. She wished she could conjure more, a sentence perhaps to truly make it a more eloquent description of an appropriately so eloquent mare. But no, only one word would be able to suffice Octavia’s opinion of Luna’s expression.
Pissed.
It took that long for Octavia to realize that, out of all the other ponies in the theatre hall, only one other was clapping. Ditzy Doo, as the hidden alicorn now expected of her. Her innocent ideals wouldn’t be perturbed by Discord’s childish acts, certainly not while she had a child herself to raise. It simply sounded… odd, a lone pegasus cheering amongst a sea of proverbial maniacs. Discord would be proud of the name.
She could no longer see Princess Celestia or Princess Twilight, both at the front rows and now vastly overshadowed by the many Discords that lined the seats between them, majority currently standing as they whooped and yelled in cheer. She could not, for the very life of her, imagine either doing any more than glowering at Discord. He probably took the looks as compliments. Octavia made sure she contributed her fair share.
Unfortunately, for likely worse than better, Vinyl’s wide signature grin outdid any scowl the gray alicorn could have mustered. It helped that the only thing keeping Vinyl from clapping was the awkward position she sat in the chair. Octavia was tempted to pull one of her hooves out, tripping her friend. She reigned in the guilty thought, refusing to drop to such a level.
“But now, before the music begins, let me start with a story.” Discord’s voice rang out, silencing his many clones and, surprisingly to Octavia, earning her attention. He flashed a toothy grin, one that Octavia felt was full more of mischief than malice… hopefully.
“Many mares, stallions, and ponies in general prefer to think of me as a purveyor in the odd arts. A simple creature with an odd goal.” Discord chuckled slightly before he spoke on. “They couldn’t be more right.” Not exactly the words she was expecting. At this point, that was likely the intended point.
“But what in the odd is thought to be wrong? A few bad apples in an otherwise lush garden, and the whole crop is deemed sour.” Octavia, even from behind her white-hatted doppelganger, could feel the rage emanating from Fiddle. There were likely a few terms in there that were intentionally misused. “But what is so often forget is the joy that the odd can bring.”
“Live for all your finite lives in the realm of the expected and you will never find a surprise.” Discord spoke the words like a commandment. “Things that are new are naturally crafted from the odd, and they are only odd until they are accepted. Surprises are what keep the minds thinking, and an idle mind is a terrible waste.”
“So what is my point in this, you may ask.” Octavia was rather sure the vast majority of the audience was already well aware. “Why, to introduce the music of course!”
With a spin of his slytherin body, a wave of the baton in its south-paw position, literally, Discord flashed his magic over the ponies of the Orchestra, Luna and Drifter included. A momentary bout of fright took them over, Octavia included, until nothing was perceived to be wrong. The hidden alicorn felt her horn alight regardless, though its illumination was hidden by the hat she wore.
Silence overtook the concert hall, still and undisturbed. It sank around Octavia, focusing her senses, her hearing, her everything, onto the stage. The lights began to dim, shadowing the crowd of Discords into darkness. The lights on the stage became bright, putting a select number of ponies on center stage. Drifter, Celestia bless his timid heart, was one of them. Octavia could nearly see the sweat running down his coat from her position in the audience.
“Now,” Discord resumed, slowly lowering his baton towards the one-winged pegasus. “Let’s bring out some holiday cheer.”
Octavia stared at the blue pegasus, watching as his wide eyes shut themselves tightly. Normally when she witnessed such an act, she interpreted it as concentration, one trying to drown themselves with their own thoughts. It was not an uncommon practice, especially for musicians. But with Drifter, something was clearly different.
His brow was not creased heavily, his lips strained, or his snout scrunched. Though his lips trembled and his body shook, his eyes were calm. Shut, yet calm. It took the hidden alicorn a whole moment to realize what he was doing. It was not simply concentration. It was abandonment.
Almost in conjunction with the epiphany, Octavia remembered her friend’s words about the pegasus. The DJ felt just inclined to lean over and repeat them.
“Get a good picture,” the alabaster unicorn whispered quickly. “Cause you’re about to see a whole new stallion.”
As her words died in the silence, Drifter’s guitar slowly began to strum.
He played his notes in a 4/4 measure, repeating up and down a simple scale. As each note rang out, it echoed through the hall as another played behind it. It was like a quick cascade of water, each wave following one another. It was far from drowning, as Octavia had assumed any level of guitar would be. Rather, it was calming. Slow, simple, and steady in pace.
Octavia felt her head slowly began to rise and fall with the notes, following them through the meters the pegasus played. Almost matching in time, a violin began to play. Octavia glanced along the Orchestra to see the first chair playing the notes, her eyes focused on the draconequus waving a baton. Octavia didn’t recall the mare’s name, but she knew from many sessions of practice that she was diligent to the code of performing.
Her notes did not echo Drifter’s, but nor did they deviate. They instead formed a ship, following a different pattern through the meters. It rode across the waves Drifter created, rising and falling like sailing over the sea. Octavia felt her head following it, dipping with each pass and rising with every crest. It broke softly, drifting off as the single-winged pegasus’s guitar took lead once more. Then again, the violin came into play, carrying the same notes and forming the same ship to ride over the sea. But between the two, another instrument came into play.
Octavia turned to the wind section, seeing another lone light shine upon a stallion dressed in black. Octavia knew him, Whittler, a stallion she had known since her foal days. Never close, never really friends, but at the very least acquaintances. He was talented with the flute, as every member of the Orchestra was with his or her respective instruments. But the way he interjected into the soft ballad of the two strings, it showcased his skill.
She saw the flick of Discord’s wrist, directing the trio as they continued to play together, one beginning, another following, then ending before another. Only Drifter kept his soft ballad continuous throughout. It took Octavia that long to realize there was no way, with Discord playing, that this would last. Sure enough, it did not.
Drifter’s guitar was the first to soften, to fade into the soft vacuum of sound. Then the violin, playing a few dying notes, before silencing itself. Only Whittler’s flute played on, carrying what felt like the last waves of the sea to shore. Octavia softly shut her eyes as she prepared for whatever horror awaited on the land the music carried them too.
With a powerful boom from Drifter’s guitar, the Discord’s song truly began.
Octavia felt herself nearly jump in her seat, forcing to adjust her hat. She ignored any snickering in the audience, or rather, the snickering was muted out. The percussionists were beginning to play, the drums being beaten in the back. Drifter’s guitar was picking up in pace, though softer in volume. A long and deep chord was being carried from the string section.
Octavia felt a breath slowly being sucked into her, feeling the true force of the orchestra she so loved to be a part of. Discord, paw and claw never ceasing their direction of the set, flashed a knowing and crooked grin towards her. She successfully blocked it out. Then, with a jab towards the percussionists, a new set of instruments joined in.
Bells. There were bells. There were bells that rang like a church’s call. Deep in pitch and high in volume. The echoed over the hall, carrying with them a breath of air Octavia greedily sucked in. The string section took up volume beneath the rings, playing descending half-measures. Then, every time the strings fell too low, Drifter would strum hard on his guitar again, lifting them up into the air.
Normally, Octavia only ever truly lost herself into music she played. It was so much easier, letting her mind slip away as her hooves continued to play, so much more difficult while another did so. While others played, she criticized. While she played, she fantasized. That was why what was happening now was so unbelievable.
Octavia could feel it, imagine it, see what Discord was doing. It was incredible, it was horrible, it was… unreal. Discord, through all of his twisted and omniscient machinations, had made a set she could not critique, something she could only listen to without a thought of what would be more appropriate.
For the first time since her ascension, for the very first time since she had grown her horn and wings, Octavia was keeping her eyes open. She was watching as the music was played before her.
She watched as her magic danced through the air.
It didn’t flow gently from her horn, reveal itself through the top hat she adorned. Instead, it formed about the darkened hall, taking control of the lights that shone upon the stage, possession of the curtains that were raised. With every deep strum from Drifter’s guitar, her hold became more powerful. With every deepening chord from the strings, she felt her magic become tangible. And with every ring of the bell, the lights began to change.
The soft solo lights became hardened beams, narrowing into thin lines as they simultaneously split into many parts. One solo light became a dozen lasers. One yellow bulb became a rainbow of gray and blue. The lights did not settle on the stage, they focused on it, pointing at it like Discord did with the tip of his baton, manic smile ever present.
The lights were dancing atop the Orchestra, pelting the many ponies with forceless blows. Hard lights raking over them, matching in time and tune with the music conjured by them. It was wrong, it was perfect. It was unnatural, yet it was expected. It was every reason for them to stop playing their instruments, to give up and walk away.
But the Orchestra never swayed in their play.
Then, Drifter’s guitar picked up again. No longer making low strums, but playing quick measures, filled by quarter and eighth. Subtle as the change in the music, the volume was rising with every measure he passed. Then, not even into the second stanza, two cellos joined the art. They were not Octavia’s, obviously, but they played with Drifter in perfect time and rhythm. Like the waves Drifter had made at the beginning, these began to rise. The crests were higher, the drops deeper, like it was attempting to capsize any vessel foolish enough to ride across it.
The lights overhead, manipulated by Octavia’s magic, seemed to agree. Split into five different lasers as they were, they moved individually with the measures Drifter and the strings played. With each note, one would swing, running across the stage like a wind over the sea, there then gone. But just as quickly, when the next and equivalent measure began, the lights reset, and started to run once more.
Then Drifter, eyes still gently shut, put a manic grin on his lips. Octavia realized, a faint thought through her attention to the music, just what Vinyl meant when she said he was a different pony on stage. He broke from the measures he was playing, following the drag of Discord’s paw as he directed the music.
He played high notes of great volume, dropping only to rise again, then rise and fall then rise then fall again. Octavia felt her head bobbing with the music, entranced esthetically. It was just as Vinyl had said, the orchestra was merely background music to his performance. The strings now carried his guitar, boats now carrying the sea. The bells, flashes of thunder in the sky, carried them both through a void.
The lights flashed, but swayed like the sea. The dark gray became a harsh white, the gentle blue and striking aqua. They flashed in seemingly random directions, each pointing across the stage at areas wholly unrelated to the music. It reminded Octavia of lightening, in color, shape, size, and even use.
Drifter’s guitar began to rise from the great pit it fell into, carrying the music with it. The drums, the strings, and even the percussions all followed his lead. The ships were at the mercy of the sea, the lights obeying the sway of the ocean. The great and colorful lights rose upwards, drawing themselves from the tip of the stage Discord stood on, followed the length of the walls, and disappeared into the braziers up above.
Again and again, the stallion carried them through the measures, up and up with each strum of his guitar. The strings were at his mercy, the percussionists his lead, and the lights to his command. Even he rose with the notes he played, dragging his guitar through the air as if fighting some great weight.
Discord, at the helm of the madness, lifted his baton with the rising notes, drawing them forth and bidding them to grow. It was not just Drifter’s guitar that grew in volume. Every member of the Orchestra did. The strings, the percussions, the winds, everything! Octavia’s breath was hard to control.
But then, with a pull of Discord’s claw, all of their instruments silenced, except for one.
Only the pounding of a piano echoed through the concert hall, only the deep chords being banged into the air. Octavia focused on the princess behind the keys, the alicorn now hidden by her own ethereal mane. It hung low over her eyes, hiding her from view, leaving only shooting stars to be seen, firing within her mane.
Octavia’s magic didn’t focus the lights on her, however, not like the other instruments. There were lasers about her, colorful and much in number. No, Octavia’s magic didn’t control the set about the alicorn. It manipulated the instrument the dark princess played.
As Luna continued to play the descending chords, Octavia’s magic made the piano shine with a color that matched. It was a dazzling blue, then a soft gray, then an endless black. It was changing with the song, changing as the notes fell in pitch, becoming grander as the piece became deeper.
Then Drifter’s guitar and the violinists played again. Their strings played quick chords to match the measures Luna played, echoing over the hall as well. The spotlights shined on them as well, split up and made into dazzling hues of black and blue. Now though, the lights were offering something new.
The lasers, once told by Vinyl to be straight and forms of light that cats enjoyed to play with, were bending about the musicians. About the single-winged guitarist, with eyes shut and muscles relaxed, the blue lights of the shattered spotlight twirled around him, coiling like a spring. His notes made the lights tighter, made their coil stronger, and all the while, the more dazzling to watch.
Then just as quickly, they cut out again, leaving only the Princess of the Night and piano of shifting colors. But as she played now, it pulsed with the magic, vibrated with the music. Like watching the shattering of a clear pool, the colors were all the hues of dark blue, shining against a night’s unblemished sky. Octavia wasn’t aware if she was breathing. She didn’t care to check.
Once more Drifter chimed in, playing his guitar and bending the light around him. The twisted lasers eagerly wrapped around him, enraptured by him. Judging by the small smile he had, as seen by every slow rise of his head, he enjoyed their metaphorical embrace. Each strum of his chords became deeper, longer, and farther and farther apart.
Then finally it broke, leaving the strings of the orchestra silent. The remnants of Drifter’s guitar hung in the air, the last breath of his chord. It vibrated through the all but silent air, drifting further away like the pull of a tide. As it drifted off, so too did the light, uncoiling from him and darkening in color.
Softly through the falling volume of the guitar, Luna’s piano started to rise. Like stars shooting through the open sky, the notes were there and gone. So quick they were almost illusions, but so precise that they could not be ignored. Octavia’s magic gave such thoughts form. The black piano the dark alicorn played on, alight with the keys she pounded, had small sudden streaks of white across it. Luminescent alabaster trails over flashes of black, aqua, and blue.
And as the song continued, the strings began to rise again. Small in volume, but growing in number, the streams of the broken lights began to wave. Those lights darkened, becoming an almost unfamiliar green as they twirled about the string section, lighting the many mares and stallions that pulled at their string. Drifter was among their number, the same lights from before eagerly encroaching on him again.
But Luna did not let her piano soften, and the comets that played across her piano did not dimmer. They grew in volume and size, becoming more of a beacon amongst the orchestra than a simple bone to stand on. Even the bells joined the chimes of the keys, ringing through the sound, beckoning the wayward instruments to the ship at sea, to Luna’s piano upon Drifter’s guitar.
Then with a sudden boom, the piano vanished.
It was replaced with the pounding of drums, the percussionists taking center stage with their art. Octavia’s music was quick to comply with their attention, letting the light shine down upon their toms and taunt tools. They beat at them with purpose, the light jumping with each force, changing color with every blow. If her breath was not already gone, Octavia was sure it had abandoned her at this point.
Discord let his claw command them, poking at the air with every fall they made. All the while his baton controlled Drifter’s strings, making their volume deeper, louder, and more in control than any other section of the Canterlot Orchestra. Only Luna was in the dark now, her piano without light and her keys without tune. That would not last for long.
The strings fought for their place then, the violins beginning to cry out at high volumes amongst the blows of the drums and strums of the guitar. The light agreed with their plight, Octavia’s magic instantly flowing over their instruments with eager abandon. Their chords turned the light aqua blue, their measures changing them back to brilliant white.
Octavia was not surprised when Luna’s piano took over again, pounding down the keys as they had before. The measures they played the same as before, the notes they had the same as before, but the volume they possessed was far greater than any other measure. Even against the pegasus’s guitar, the strings’ violins, and the percussions’ drums, the alicorn’s piano was as clear as stars in a calm, cloudless night. But this ballad was anything but calm.
The chorus came again, or at least to what Octavia assumed to be such. The music may be unfamiliar, but it did not falter her magic’s path.
Now the magic gave light to a new instrument, not Luna’s alone. Drifter’s guitar started to shimmer like the waves his guitar seemed to make, changing with colors with every note he played. The strings that vibrated altered the colors, but every chord seemed to reform it. Every note appeared to change the shade, but every brake restored the correct hue. It was like watching the sea dance in a storm.
Octavia, only just barely, was able to turn her attention to the mares around her, though she had to find rhyme and reason to do so. Vinyl was wholly enraptured by the music, her glasses since abandoning her eyes, letting the lavender irises beneath see the spectacle at its best. Her jaw was just as wide as her lids, virtually drooling over the music and light.
It was impossible to see Fiddle, not without bending over the seats and staring at her, but judging by the way her hat was titled and no motion was made to correct it, the mare was not focused on anything but the Orchestra at head. Her eyes were likely strained to stay open, unwilling to block even a moment of the sight.
Octavia only needed to glance to see Ditzy, by far and away the most physical with her emotions. And, judging by the clear spread of her wings, light in her focused eye, and gleam of her teeth between her spread lips, she wasn’t simply enjoying the show. She loved it.
Then something new happened. Not another verse and certainly different than the chorus. The hidden gray alicorn focused on Discord, watching as the mad god controlled the unseen strings of the Orchestra, his paw and claw moving with unusual purpose in movements. Though she was implicitly familiar with the motion of the baton, the purpose and meaning behind every swing, Discord moved in a way that made no sense.
But then, with a quick pull, something entirely new happened. Octavia could only describe the noise that followed as reckless abandon. It made sense given, the conductor at hoof.
The strings began to play their notes like the last calls of a sinking ship, filled with a desperate need to be heard, to be remembered, to be anything but forgotten. The bells that rang proudly, as if high on the church tower, bellowed through the concert hall with a ring that would not be silenced by anything short of time. It shook Octavia in her seat and down to her soul.
Luna slammed her keys with the force of a falling mountain, commanding them to keep the stage anything but safe, to rise above the rest like the great alicorn she was. And the piano listened, giving no less than every conceivable vibration its strings allowed. Drifter was no different, playing down his guitar with a purpose Octavia never would have expected from the timid pegasus. It would have been breathtaking, were the alicorn not already in danger of suffocating.
And the light was not to be forgotten. Their numbers now in the hundreds, their colors more varied than the visible spectrum, and dancing across the stage in every way that matter could conceivably move.
It flowed through the members like a riptide, quick and direct. It coiled about the soloists, possessive with need. It showered the instruments that gave tribute, giving them hues that eyes were almost forbidden to see. It was everything Octavia thought was blasphemy to music. It was the most wondrous thing she had ever heard.
But then a duel began to commence, between the dark alicorn of the night, and the once-timid pegasus with a single wing. It would have been a joke if Octavia had not already seen all that she had.
Drifter’s guitar rang out, each strum louder than the next, each climbing for a throne he fought to possess. He ran against Luna, who flew with her piano, approaching the sky’s domain with ease, fighting off whomever felt the need to compete. And the light was torn between them.
It shimmered. It shined. It morphed. It collided.
Then, with a final slam of their respective instruments, the light cascaded into the air.
The song was done.
[END
Slowly, like in the echo of a cave, Drifter’s guitar flew and faded away, taking with it any doubt Octavia had to the pegasus’s abilities. In its wake, it left a thick and near impenetrable wall of silence.
The silence was there for several reasons. The music had faded, and no more instruments played. The audience, even the many hundreds of copies of Discord, were motionless. But before anything else, it was because everyone, from the Orchestra to the alicorns, were captivated by the sights. Not by the musicians who had played such a magnificent set and not by the draconequus that once again revealed a bit of the method to his madness.
They were all enthralled by Octavia’s magic, still hanging in the air like the remnants of a winter’s storm. The lights hung like light snow, the instruments glowed like dying light, and even the air was filled with a chill that could not be ignored.
Luna’s instrument still pulsed like the ending of a cold night’s comet shower, clear of any clouds or fog, letting the last tails of the falling stars move and disappear over the hard oak. The great piece slowly changed from dark blue, the light aqua, before finally settling back on the familiar dark abyss.
Even Drifter’s guitar shared pieces of the wayward magic, swirling like the waves of a sea he did well to imitate in the piece. It did not fade and rise, but crest and descend in color, moving from green, to blue, to white, to finally settling back on the teal the instrument was before. The pegasus seemed almost relieved to see the familiar color again.
The lights, however, were what truly captivated most of the ponies. How couldn’t they? Bending around the many musicians as if they were eager fans, straight rays of laser light curled like spring, shattered like glass, colored like a winter’s rainbow. It was all so… amazing, breathtaking at that.
But Octavia could see the questions forming, see the wonder turn to curiosity in the ponies’ eyes. The awe of the magic was changed to a search, looking for the caster of the curious mess.
That was not good. It would be difficult to explain away the magic as any of the other alicorns, likely due to their frequent appearance at other musical conventions, ones that lacked the current magic hanging in the air. It may have been plausible for them to sneak the blame to Vinyl, a mare who loved the eccentric like a duck to water, but even she was currently awed, not something a caster usually was for their own work.
That left her, and only her. What if they asked who she was? The pony hiding in a top hat and coat. How would she respond? Teleport? Run? Fly?
“Well, wasn’t that delightfully unexpected?”
Discord’s voice rang out across the hall, drawing the attention of every member of the Orchestra, Octavia included. He had the same crooked smile, the same gleam to his mismatched eyes, and even the same knowing wink directed at her. Silence temporarily took over the hall, following his verbose question, but he was quick to reclaim his territory.
“I must thank you all for listening to our ballad and dealing well with the magic used.” He bowed lowly the crowd as he spoke, a crowd consisting almost entirely of himself. With a twirl of his paw he stood up, spun around, then bowed to the ponies behind him. “And to you, the ever so talented members of the Canterlot Orchestra. I never would have expected you to be so… willing to alter your usual symphonies. That’s a rare gift, one that you should never let go of.”
It took Octavia not even a moment to realize what the draconequus was doing. Where everyone was following the magic just before, trying to find the originator of the art, now they were hanging on the words of the Mad God, drawing conclusions to his, assumingly, honest praise and cryptic phrase. Octavia marked a point his favor, forgiving him for any one offense he may commit against her later. In conjunction with the song, that put him two points ahead.
“And to you two as well, Princess Luna and Drifter.” The draconequus extended, literally, his claw towards the pair. The talons elongated as the pointed towards the pair of blue ponies, one skittishly avoiding the attention, the other calmly accepting it with an opaque mask. “Your work upon your instruments was truly a wonderful surprise. Pleasant to the ears and unexpectedly easy to harmonize.” He chuckled at his words, hearing a joke none other did.
“But sadly we must now move on, as the curtains close and the audience dissolves.” With a snap of his claw, they did just that.
Every row of seats in the concert has was immediately enveloped in smoke. Surprised squeaks and came from a few choice ponies, Octavia included. She expected a banging sound and some flashing light, to be blinded by something thicker than morning mist. She pushed her hooves through the thickly condensed air, faring little well against it.
But then, as soon as it came, it left. But as it left, it took with it every copy of Discord, save the conductor at the head of the stage. Normally, as normal as it could ever be, Octavia would have simply huffed away the act, annoyed but otherwise unperturbed. That was not the case now.
Though every member of the audience was gone, so too were every member of the Orchestra. Such a detail was quickly noticed. He was back down to equal marks.
“Discord!” Princess Luna shouted in place of Octavia, her voice closer and louder than the gray alicorn’s. “What have you done to them!?” The ‘them’ was obvious, as even Drifter was staring horrified around him, eyes panicking as his head shook left and right. The low whistle Octavia heard from beside her told her that Vinyl was oddly impressed by the display. She would need to have a talk to her friend about the appropriate times for such actions.
“Settle your feathers, princess, wouldn’t want those flying off quite yet.” And now Octavia owed him another beating. Splendid. “I did nothing harmful to them, I promise. In fact, I dare to say that your expectancy for me to do the dark deeds has made my actions rather surprising, in the best of ways.” Octavia all at once knew what that meant.
“You sent them home, then.” It took a moment for Octavia to place the voice as Princess Celestia’s, still sitting in the front row, wings against her back and posture perfect. She appeared to be little frightened by Discord’s sudden dismissal of the ponies. Twilight, just beside her, was the mirror opposite, standing on all fours and horn alight. “That’s very kind of you Discord, thank you.”
It amazed Octavia still how a compliment from the Princess of the Sun actually made the Mad God scowl.
“You always know how to ruin the fun, don’t you Sunbutt?” Vinyl cackled next to Octavia; as Octavia sadly expected. Fiddle stifled a chuckle in front of her; that was mortifying. “But yes, you are correct, no use in trying to deny the truth, is there? But I suppose that does allow us to rush things right along now, doesn’t it?”
Without another word, Discord snapped his paw. In a much more familiar flash of white, his suit was gone, leaving only his long scaled body behind, tall and menacing as always. Princess Luna was quick to trot beside him, likely the guardian in her attempting to stifle any more of his magical attempts, Octavia reasoned.
“We are here for a very special reason, a very special mare to be precise.” Discord’s paw extended into the audience, aimed at the hidden gray alicorn. All eyes turned to her again. Thankfully, she saw this one coming.
“Are they talking about you or me?” Octavia heard Ditzy ask from behind her. She hid her smile well as she turned to her wall-eyed friend, raising a brow in silent question. However, upon inspection, Ditzy seemed genuinely confused. “My school teachers growing up would always call me that.”
Octavia, deep inside her mind, reasoned she owed a few long-retired teachers visit.
“He’s talkin’ about our little gem in the field,” Fiddle clarified, the amusement clear in her voice. She had a horrifyingly great number of qualities similar to Vinyl.
“You did such a wonderful job this evening,” Discord continued, earning their collective attention again. “I had hoped that you would not need to have a piece of wood in her hooves to use your magic, but I never expected it to be so… oh what’s the word for it?” As if to showcase his search for the word, Discord did what he always does.
Pulling at one of his gnarled horns, the top of his head popped open. It reminded Octavia strikingly of a waste bin. She figured they were likely filled with the same amount of garbage. Not stopping, however, the Mad God proceeded to sift through his open skull, grabbing at places his mind should have belonged. It was hard to find what was lost long ago.
“Ah, there it is!” Discord put on a cheerful face, slamming the top of his head closed with a light bang, complete with a flash of white. Puffing his long thin chest, he proceeded to speak… before immediately deflating like a released balloon. “It was natural.”
Octavia saved in her mind his loathe for the word. She assumed easy, obvious, fate, and meant to be all qualified under the same category.
“Indeed.” The agreement from Princess Luna immediately shut all of the gray alicorn’s musings. Her eyes focused on the dark alicorn, she saw the princess of the night staring back at her, smiling with the brilliance of her moon and stars. “Though far beyond what I expected, I am overjoyed to see you have such control of your magic, Octavia. I hope we see your art again soon.”
Discord didn’t allow time for the statement to sink in.
“That’s excellent! Because we’re far from done.” Those words were simultaneously riveting and horrifying. Judging by the way Vinyl’s glasses fell down her snout, Octavia was not alone in her shock.
“We’re not?” She finally spoke, though in a volume that barely carried to her own ears, let alone the princesses and Mad God. But leave it to the master of the impossible to hear her clear as a whistle.
“Of course not! I thought we agreed that we needed to really stretch those magic muscles of yours.” To once again draw his point, Discord flexed his forelimbs as a bodybuilder would. She was… somewhat cheerful to see his limbs fall like wet noodles. The chuckling behind her was shared in pleasant company.
That feeling died the moment she felt herself disappear in a bang, only to reappear on the stage. Her stomach didn’t agree with the quick drop or sudden stop.
She felt a limb wrap around her carriage, gently at that, keeping her upright and able. It took a moment, a groggy one filled with a long groan and bleary eyes, but Octavia was able to shake the vertigo of Discord’s magic transportation. She was thankful it was faster than last time.
She was not thankful it was Discord who had wrapped himself around her. She made sure to glare at him to show the point.
“Now, here’s what I need,” he spoke lowly to her, leaning against her as he ignored her look of rage. “I need you and your friends to go somewhere open, as in open air, not an open store. Make sure you bring your cello… maybe a xylophone… oh! And if you can, how about a few crystal glasses?”
What began as a genuine request quickly devolved into the mad god’s usual drawn out drabble of inane quests and requests. Octavia, as calmly as she could even with a fresh Orchestra’s worth of trumpets in her head, prepared to tell Discord to release her. She could make no promises she wouldn’t field him to the stage floor, paying for damages later.
But before she could, he popped out of existence, only to reappear again high above her and Luna, looking down at them from his invisible hammock. His grin was just as twisted and unsettling as ever.
“And please understand, I know the request is a bit… off, even for my standards, but there is a point and I’d simply hate to have our guest feel unwelcomed.” Luna had prepared a scolding for the draconequus, complete with the barring of his abilities. Octavia was ready to trounce him, slamming him into the seats as she had done previously to the train cabin’s floor and Canterlot Hall before. But at his words, both stopped, bemused and confused by the declaration. Against her better judgment, Octavia spoke.
“What guest, Discord?” She was just able to say the words without gritting her teeth. She didn’t think he was worth the effort, but years of training from her parents overruled a few annoying evenings with the mad god. She doubted it would last a day more.
“That is a fine question,” Luna agreed with her. “As I thought we were not going to selfishly disrupt our promise.” The hint in the words was hidden like a cloud in the sky.
“And promises I keep, for I have miles to go before I sleep,” Discord rhymed as he answered the pair of alicorns. “Its only a single guest you’ve never met. I’d be rather surprised to even say you heard of him. And be kind with your words, Ms. Lovegood, because I would never chance ruining this opportunity. Besides,” he spoke as he swept his paw over the empty row of seats.
Octavia followed the motion, spying the elder and younger princess still at the front of the audience. She was only mildly surprised to see how calm Celestia was, especially when juxtaposed against the near frantic Twilight. Age and wisdom was likely the cause of that. But beyond the pair, she saw her friends farther in the audience.
Her yellow coated doppelganger, Fiddle, was eyeing her with a raise of her hat, letting nothing obscure her vision. Vinyl was just leaning over the chairs in front of her in wonder. She had an odd look on her face. It appeared to be concern of some kind, but it seemed almost alien on her friend. But for Ditzy, the farthest back, the worry over her miss-aligned eyes and beneath her golden mane was more obvious than the mad god floating in the air.
“I think what song may come next, you friends deserve a part in it too.” Octavia turned her back to Discord at his words…
Only to see he was gone.
Octavia pinched the bridge of her nose with her hoof, shutting her eyes as she attempted to quell the slowly growing cacophony of noise in her head. Even with a fresh Orchestral piece in her mind, she felt a sort of imbalance between the sections. It wouldn’t be beyond the mad god to create such a reaction, however. It took only a glance from Octavia to see Luna was faring little better.
“Well,” a mature voice spoke up, one Octavia quickly identified as Celestia. “I suppose we mustn’t sit on ceremony for long. Though I do greatly appreciate the piece, sister. Time has not dulled your skill on the piano.” The gray alicorn raised her eyes to see the exchange between the sisters.
“I thank you, Sister,” Luna replied formally to her elder. “I… though I wish it was a piece that required less… energy to perform.”
“Nonsense,” Celestia dismissed her younger sibling easily. “You use enough of that in the realms of dreams. Better to see what you do, and then get to hear about later.” Octavia was taken aback at the depth of her statement.
“Um… excuse me?” A timid voice spoke up. Octavia knew it was Drifter before all eyes settled on him. Judging by the way he jumped, he was not prepared for all alicorns to focus on him. It was only made further and more painfully obvious by the uncomfortable swallowing motion he made.
“So… um… should I go now?”
Octavia, oddly, was happy to hear the request.