//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: Dark Blue // by Saph //------------------------------// The last light of the setting sun cascaded down the city streets of Canterlot, creating a picturesque view for those still outside. Among those enjoying this view, were the students from Canterlot High participating in the school’s orchestra. Inside the school there still remained two ponies. A grey earth pony hummed to herself quietly, tucking her cello into her open case making sure everything was in place before flipping it shut and closing the latch. The first day of practice had been difficult for Octavia. While she had branded the conductor as a particularly mean individual, she somehow felt like he was focusing on her more than others. Before she could put more thought into the day’s events, a mint green hoof tapped her shoulder. She turned around, her eyes following the foreleg up to it’s owner’s familiar face. “Ready to go, Octavia?” Lyra asked, a grin making it’s way to her face as usual. “I think so,” Octavia replied trying her best to muster a smile of her own. The pair made their way out of the back of the auditorium, taking a few turns through the hallways before they reached the front entrance of the school. From there, they took a left down the sidewalk at a mildly slow pace. It wasn’t long before Octavia was poked in the side again. “Yes, Lyra?” Octavia said, rolling her eyes. “Guess what’s happening tomorrow?” Lyra asked, her grin still plastered on her face. Octavia was used to similar conversations that had happened to start in pretty much the same way. “Is this the one about the robot-unicorn butler again, Lyra?” Octavia groaned, several previous memories coming to mind. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to hear that ‘based on a true story’ stuff again.” Lyra shook her head, then raising a hoof to her chin as if in thought. “Well it is about a unicorn, just not a robot one, and hopefully she won’t try to kill us as well.” Octavia stared at her incredulously. “Okay, okay, let me explain,” Lyra said. “My mom kind of applied at some agency to be eligible to foster a pony. Then just the other day we got a notification that they found someone, and that they were going to be moving in soon, which happens to be tomorrow. ” Octavia nodded, taking it all in. “I’m not quite sure on all of the specifics though,” Lyra frowned. “My mom wanted me to do some kind of formal introduction and meet her like that instead of just reading information about her.” “Do you even know anything about this mare then?” Octavia asked. Lyra shrugged. “Only thing I know is that she’s our age and a unicorn.” The rest of their walk was silent before they reached the door to Octavia’s apartment building. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lyra,” Octavia said waving goodbye as Lyra continued down the street. “Later,” Lyra replied over her shoulder. Octavia pushed the door open making her way up a flight of stairs before stopping at the door to her family’s apartment. She then pulled a key out of the side of her cello case and slid it into the lock, turning it until it clicked and the door opened. Octavia walked into the living room, not expecting anyone else to be home yet, she was surprised to find her mother sitting on one of the couches. “Did you have a nice day at school, Dear?” “It was fine,” Octavia mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. Her mother looked disdainfully at the instrument case on Octavia’s back. “I thought you said you weren’t participating in the orchestra this year to focus on your studies like I wanted you do?” Octavia flinched. “I had a little bit of a last-minute change in mind.” Her mother sighed, shaking her head. “The chances of you becoming anything significant in the music world are quite slim, I thought I told you this before?” “Yes, but-” “Honestly I don’t why you’re even trying again,” Octavia’s mother interrupted, “Even ponies who don’t have musical cutie marks can become exceptional by practice, what makes you think anyone would take a second look at you?” Her mother paused for a moment, looking Octavia directly in the eyes. “I just want what’s best for you, Octavia. I don’t want you to throw your academic career away on pursuing an unrealistic endeavor.” Octavia thought of several responses that would be frowned upon in public, but in the end only said nothing and stormed off to her room and slamming the door as loud as possible. “Her own damn cutie mark can go buck itself,” Octavia muttered. Seeing first-hand how happy her mother was with her life, Octavia was determined to completely disregard everything that had just been said to her. She slung the cello case off of her back and put it on the floor carefully. Flipping the latch, Octavia opened the case lifting the instrument out of its confines and placing it on her bed. A minute later, she was sitting on the edge of her bed balancing the cello carefully in one hoof with her bow in the other. Her enthusiasm had been reduced by the neighbors’ requirement of using a mute. Last time she had practiced without it, a complaint had come in from a particularly eccentric neighbor had sent in a complaint. It hadn’t quite helped with her parents’ standing on a musical career. The black object clamped over the bridge already looked out of place. Octavia drew the bow across the strings, playing a couple lines from memory. It didn’t feel anything like when she had just played at school. The sound felt incomplete and broken to Octavia, the mute was obviously performing it’s job. She frowned, her hooves itching to rip off the mute and play the instrument as loud as possible, maybe even find a microphone with an amp. Octavia frustratedly pressed the bow into the strings harder producing a sound not all that different from a rooster’s call. As calmly as she could, she placed the cello back into the case, making sure she wouldn’t damage it, before diving onto her bed and burying her face into her pillows. “At least today was Friday,” Octavia said softly, cracking a small smile. There was some comfort in knowing the weekend was here, and the task of school was out of the way for at least a couple of days. Octavia reached out blindly with one hoof for the radio on her nightstand next to her bed. A few moments later the relaxing notes of classical instruments filled the air in her room. Anybody who underestimated music’s ability to calm anyone down was clearly a fool in Octavia’s mind. Octavia wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there before she was jarred out of her trance by the noise of a buzzing cellphone. Octavia rolled out of bed, stretching her legs before picking up the phone. Recognizing the number to be Lyra’s, she accepted the call. “Hello, Lyra.” “Hey, Octavia, Guess what?” Octavia was severely tempted to hang up right there. “What.” “My foster sister just got here,” Lyra said. “Her name’s Vinyl Scratch, maybe you’ve heard of her?” Octavia was about to say how ridiculous Lyra was being, and there wasn’t a chance in the world she’d have met this pony before, but for some reason the name did seem familiar to her. “I- maybe?” Octavia could hear indistinct muttering in the background between two ponies. “Well she says she does,” Lyra said, “Something about your parents knowing each other when you were younger?” “Oh.”