//------------------------------// // Chapter 15: Beleaguer // Story: Fabrication // by Bomber //------------------------------// The next week passed by like a blur, even with doing the same exact thing every day. And today was the day that Celestia was supposedly going to paint herself pink. It would be nice to get a few laughs out of his system for once. Funny moments were rare in this castle, as most of the nobles were more uptight and for the most part didn’t even know how to laugh. The guards were always silent and unmoving. The servants just milled about doing their job. The same exact things happened every single day in this multicolored castle, and a change of pace was a good thing. Blake woke up with mixed emotions. He was always wary of his surroundings now; keeping check of everything to make sure it was in order. He’d see that silhouette every now and then. Sometimes he would see it as a pony, but other times he would see it as a human. He couldn’t make out the distinct features of the shady figure, as every time he’d see it, it would vanish the next second. The figure gave him a sense of insecurity, and it was something he did not enjoy. On the other hand, if the figure didn’t creep on him, boredom surely would. He’d been in Equestria for about two and a half weeks now, and he was quickly finding himself running out of things to keep his mind occupied besides textbooks that might has well been uncovered from ancient Egypt. He’d also asked another couple of times for him to receive his old items back, but was still rejected by Luna. He had no clue as to why they wouldn’t give back his stuff. Maybe they thought that he would have access to materials to make a homemade bomb if they did. Who knows? His short conversations with Lyra were something he looked forward too. Whatever the subject was, he’d always be glad to talk about it with her. Well, except obviously his recent past, but other than that he would be more open to talk about anything from Earth. Lyra brightened Blake’s days up every time he spoke with her. Sometimes he’d laugh, sometimes he’d smile, other times he’d bang his head against a desk. Blake also considered Luna a friend by now. They got along together fairly well, but would always get into arguments while she was tutoring him. Mostly the debates were about Blake falling asleep in the middle of the day. Luna tried to get Blake into drinking coffee so he’d stay awake, but he flatly refused a cup every time she asked him. She actually tried to get him to try it by switching his normal breakfast drink of orange juice to a cup of the caffeinated liquid. The second he tasted its bitterness, he smacked his lips and set the cup aside, not even gazing at it for the rest of the meal. Blake rubbed his eyes, letting loose a yawn. He yearned to fall back asleep, but the thought of seeing Celestia pink was enough to get him out of his comfortable bed. He took a quick shower, shampooing his hair and scrubbing his body with a bar of soap. Once he was spick and span, he dried himself with a fluffy, white towel. He gazed into the mirror, staring at his naked self. I wonder what I looked like when I first arrived at the castle, he thought, slowly grazing his hand through his shiny, brown hair. Sweaty, covered in dirt, and bloodshot eyes, I bet. He chuckled at the thought, and went on to change into his new clothes. Luna had hired a tailor in Canterlot to make him attire, as washing his same clothing every night was getting repetitive. The tailor did her job fairly well. The clothes fit him almost perfectly. His t-shirts were simply plain color, each individual one different. They felt silky, sort of like the materials that athletes use. His pants were jeans, or at least they were close to jeans. They were made of the same material, but for some reason they just felt a little different. At least they had pockets. Feeling refreshed, Blake headed out of the bathroom and towards the door that led outside. He grabbed the handle and forced the door open. In front of him was the path that led to the interior of the castle, and it was completely bare of any life. That’s weird, where’s the guard that’s supposed to be stationed at his door? Something wasn’t right. There was always someone there to escort him around the castle if Luna wasn’t just to make sure he didn’t do anything “suspicious”. Blake could only think of three possibilities. One: Luna trusted him enough to not do anything stupid. Two: the guard slacked off and wasn’t at his post. Three: the guard was either assassinated or murdered. He figured it was most likely the former, and began his short five minute walk to the dining hall. <><><><><><><><><><> The moment he strolled into the dining hall, he began laughing his guts out. Celestia had actually done it! She was a bright shade of pink from head to hoof. The human wasn’t the only one making fun of the older princess. Servants, guards, and nobles alike were giggling to themselves at the Celestia’s sudden change in the color of her normal pristine white coat. Blake wandered to his usual seat, not taking his eyes of the pink princess for even a moment. He even almost accidently knocked into a guard because he wasn’t paying any attention to anything around him. He positioned himself in the comfy chair, laughing a little more. “Oh stop it, all of you,” Celestia said, turning her head away from her subjects. “It’s not that funny.” “Okay Tia, I’ll admit, it’s not very funny,” Luna said, smirking. “Thank you my precious Luna. Now I hope you see the consequences in your actions,” Celestia said, her eyes piercing into her sister’s. “It’s not just funny, it’s hilarious!” Luna chuckled. Blake couldn’t help but side with Luna. “I have to agree with her Majesty, dear Celestia. It is quite a sight to see you in such a… marvelous hue,” a noble pony with a rough voice stated. If Blake remembered correctly, his name was Green Pines. The name perfectly fit him, with his dark-green coat and neatly combed brown mane. “Aye, I second that,” another noble pony agreed, sounding vaguely like a pirate. What was his name again? It was Hidden Treasure, he was pretty sure. He was introduced to this pony the day before yesterday. He was visiting from Los Pegasus if memory served right. Hidden Treasure was an overall strange pony. Upon first seeing him, he had said, “Oi! I’ve seen plenty a-strange things in Los Pegasus, but a creature with no fur? That’s a mighty strange sight!” Blake replied by silently slipping the finger. Of course, he didn’t understand the gesture, but it was enough to get him off his back. “If it was up to me, I’d put her in a tutu and have her perform a ballet for us!” a female voice called out. Blake couldn’t quite recall her name, but he remembered her as being more kind and gentle than her male counterparts. But apparently those characteristics weren’t applying to her now, with her teasing the princess. The ponies inside joined in laughter. Blake even thought he noticed Celestia chuckling to herself along with them as well. Well, it was a good quality to have the ability to laugh at yourself instead of sulking in sadness, Blake figured. “Hello, Blake,” that same female servant greeted. “Wonderful morning we’re having today, isn’t it.” Blake turned his sights away from Celestia to the servant who was standing beside him, smiling intently. Sidestep was her name, and she was his little “stalker” that he’d been unfortunate enough to pick up about a week ago. For reasons unknown to Blake, she’d been serving him during breakfast, lunch, and dinner every… single… day. If that was it, then he’d be fine with it. However, he’d “coincidently” bump into her a couple times during the day, and it would always be when he was with accompanied by a guard, rather than Luna. She was a sandy coated unicorn mare with a bright red mane, and seemed hyper during the times that she was around him. Maybe was she was just interested in him, but frankly, it somewhat creeped him out. But at the same time, he thought it was kind of cute. He honestly didn’t know what to think of this mare. “Yeah, I guess it is,” Blake concurred. “You ‘guess’?” Sidestep repeated, her eyebrow cocked. “You can’t just say that you ‘guess’! Just look at the princess! Your reply should be, ‘It totally is! Have you seen the princess today? She looks really funny!’” Another noble pony made a comment about Celestia, and the group joined up in laughter again. Blake wished he had heard what he said, but he assumed that he’d be hearing plenty more jokes today and probably more for the next month at this rate. “Well I’m sorry that my personality doesn’t fit the one that’s stuck inside here,” he said, knocking on the top of her head. She giggled, pushing his hand away from her cranium. “So what would you like to eat this dandy morning, Blake?” she asked, smiling again. Blake scratched his head. “Some oatmeal would be fine,” he said. “But that’s so boring,” Sidestep stated, shifting the weight on her body to the opposite side. “And a banana too if you’re gonna be like that,” Blake said, taking another glimpse at Celestia. She was silently sipping on a cup of coffee, now trying to tune out all of the other ponies in the dining hall. Blake wasn’t convinced that it was working. “May I suggest that the chefs put a few habanero peppers in your oatmeal to spice your day up?” Sidestep asked innocently. Blake looked at her with a confused look plastered on his face. “Habanero peppers? Really?” “Yeah, trust me, it’s really good. It just gives your breakfast that little kick you need to get the day going,” Sidestep said. Blake facepalmed. “I’m not stupid,” he said. “I’ve had a habanero pepper before. My mouth felt as if liquid lava was being poured into it for the next couple of hours. What makes you think I’d be idiotic enough to agree to let you put habanero peppers in my breakfast?” “I just thought it’d be funny,” Sidestep shrugged. “Today just seemed like the perfect day to pull pranks with Princess Celestia being pink and all.” “If you want to pull a prank, you don’t tell the victim what you’re going to do to them. It would’ve been smarter just to sneak the peppers in it without tricking me into wanting to try them,” Blake said, staring at the sandy-coated pony. “Ooohhhh,” she droned. “I didn’t think of that.” “Now I’ve kinda lost my appetite,” Blake said, placing his hand on his chin. “But breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Sidestep interjected. “You can’t just skip out on it.” “I think I’ll live.” “I won’t put any peppers in your oatmeal, I promise,” Sidestep assured. “You better not, or I’ll kill you in your sleep,” Blake threatened flatly. The servant giggled. “You’re funny,” she said. “What makes you think I’m joking?” Blake asked, ready for her the answer she was bound to throw at him. Her expression suddenly changed to one of surprise. “I’ll just be getting your meal, then,” she quickly said, leaving Blake. Blake sighed in relief, glad to finally be rid of the unicorn. Sidestep wasn’t a bad or annoying pony at all, but it was just the fact that she was so friendly around him is what made Blake a little conscious of her. She acted as if they were friends for years. Maybe it was just her personality. When he thought about it, that was the most likely case. She was just friendly towards everypony, despite if they were a being from another planet. But of course, she didn’t know that he was an alien. Or did she? There was no way to tell. Blake whistled to himself while he waited for Sidestep to return for his breakfast. He tried to listen in on the noble’s conversations, but quickly grew bored of them constantly yammering about the princess painting herself pink. Yes, it was quite funny, but it grew repetitive after a short amount of time. He could easily see that she was pink. A person would have to be color blind to not be able to tell. There was no point in informing every single pony in the room fifty times that the princess was pink rather than white. About ten minutes later, Blake noticed Sidestep levitating a silver tray holding a bowl and a plate. It didn’t take a fool to figure out that it was his oatmeal and banana. She stopped by his seat, gliding the dishes through the air and onto the table. Utensils were already at the table where he’d been sitting, so at least he didn’t have to eat oatmeal with his hands. “That’s a pretty tune you’re whistling,” Sidestep noted. Blake shrugged his shoulders and grasped a spoon into the palm of his hand. “Just curious, but what’s it called?” Sidestep asked. “What was that?” Blake asked, unable to hear her question over the loudening voices of the nobles. “What’s the name of the song that you were whistling?” Sidestep asked again, raising her voice a tad. “It’s called Paradise by one of my favorite bands,” Blake replied, scooping a small portion of oatmeal into his spoon. He blew onto it, cooling the piping hot oatmeal down, and then slowly let the spoon enter her mouth. The oatmeal tasted normal. No peppers in it. At least Sidestep kept her word. “And what’s this band called?” she asked curiously. “Coldplay,” Blake replied, scooping a much larger portion this time. “I’ll have to purchase one of their records sometime,” Sidestep said. “Well, I better get back to doing my job. I’ll see you later!” And with that, she turned away and entered the kitchen area. “Heh, good luck with finding a Coldplay record,” Blake chuckled, “considering the fact that we don’t even use records anymore. And also the fact that Coldplay’s a band from another world.” He hoped that Sidestep wouldn’t press him about the matter in the future. He’d have to remember not to whistle or hum around her, lest she get all nosy about it. Blake enjoyed his breakfast. The oatmeal was close to perfect for his tastes. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, and it wasn’t lumpy at all. He could also taste a hint of cinnamon along with some other spices he couldn’t recognize. The banana tasted like a banana, as it obviously should. It was ripe and was free of any bruises. He placed the peel onto the now clean bowl, and set the bowl on top of the plate. As he finished the last bit of his banana, the dining hall busted open, and about a dozen of ponies sporting cameras and miscellaneous hats came pouring through. At first, Blake thought he had been found out and they were coming for him. Fortunately for him, their attention was directed at Celestia. The cameras were constantly flashing, signaling that they were taking pictures. What an interesting headline this is going to be, Blake thought. “Hey, you’re not authorized to be in here!” one of the guards posted in the dining hall stated. The guards quickly took their positions, shoving the reporters out of the room. Just as they thought they were doing to be rid of them, another wave of reporters, mainly pegasi, flew into the room and flashed their cameras. The reporters were flooding a series of questions at the princess, who was staring blankly at the reporters trying to piece together what was happening. “Blake,” Luna whispered to him. “You need to leave the dining hall right now.” “Why?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “Because I don’t want you to be found out, that’s why!” Luna hissed. “I’m sure they all know that I’m already here. Plus, I think that they’re too busy snapping photos at our pink friend over there to even notice the hairless ape sitting here,” Blake said, tilting back his chair. “Fine,” Luna said, already admitting defeat. “The moment it gets hairy for you, I want you to make your way through the kitchen and out through the East Wing. Try to make it back to your room if you can, okay? I don’t even know why you want to stay in here in the first place.” “Because this is far more entertaining than most of the shit you give me to do,” Blake chortled. Luna rolled her eyes and teleported out of the room, not wanting to get caught up in the mess. Blake chuckled to himself as he witnessed the battle between the guards and the reporters. There were probably only four guards trying to take on about two and a half dozen reporters. One of the guards slid his way out of the room, running to call for backup. The nobles had all stayed put, none of them moving an inch. Blake found this odd, because figured that the nobles would normally try to get away from a tsunami like this, but they acted as if they were statues. They were probably trying to not stand out from the reporters. Any sudden movements might attract a horde. The guard that had left returned with another squad of pegasi Royal Guards. The combined numbers were now enough to hold off anymore incoming reporters and push back the ones already inside the room. The tide quickly changed and reporters were being forced and shoved back. They tried to make one last attempt to push forward, but the Royal Guards were now simply too much for the non-athletic ponies. The last of the reporters had been routed. The battle had lasted probably about fifteen minutes, and Blake loved every moment of it. It was just something about seeing ponies engage in battle (metaphorically speaking) that was just hilarious. The dining hall looked as if a tornado had swept through it. Plates lied shattered across the floor. Food had been splattered onto the walls and utensils were scattered everywhere. It was complete chaos. It was worthy enough to even be appraised by Discord himself. Sidestep entered the dining hall. “What in the name of all things good and evil happened in here?” she asked, her eyes widening. “Hurricane Fluttershy,” a Green Pines said, wiping off a glass of milk that had splattered onto his head. <><><><><><><><><><> Blake retired back to his room shortly afterwards. He luckily made it out of the dining hall unscathed, not a single piece of food attached to him. He fell backwards onto his bed, letting out a sigh of relief. This was probably the most interesting and amusing morning in his life. He had always heard from the news back on Earth about pop stars being mobbed by the paparazzi. He decided that this case was pretty much the same thing, except with ponies. A few moments later there was a knock on the door. “Who could it be now?” Blake wondered. “Guess it’s probably just Luna with another ten chapters to assign me to read tonight.” He opened the door to see none other than Sidestep, a cart of cleaning supplies by her side. “What the hell are you doing here?” Blake asked, bemused. “Hello again, Blake,” Sidestep greeted. “I’ve been tasked to clean up your room from now on.” “Oh? And who assigned you to do this?” Blake asked. She shifted her eyes awkwardly. “That’s not important,” she said, completely dodging his question. She attempted to push the cart into his room, but he stuck is foot out in front of him, stopping it from moving. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t believe I gave you permission to enter my room,” Blake said, folding his arms. “But this is my job. I was told to clean your room, so I’m gonna clean your room whether you like it or not,” Sidestep said, clearly not taking no for an answer. “Okay then,” Blake said, removing his foot from the front of the cart, allowing it to move freely. Sidestep nodded her head in acknowledgment and pushed the cart into his room. It’s not like it needed cleaning though. Sure, it could use some dusting, but other than that it was still mostly neat and tidy. Sidestep heaved the cart into the middle of the bedroom, where she levitated a feather duster into mid-air and began to dust random objects. There was just something different about this pony than most of the ones he had met. From what Luna had told him, the majority of common folk in Equestria were generally gleeful. But Sidestep seemed to take that to the next level with her cheerful demeanor. Without reason, his eyes began to wander toward the rear of her body. What he saw confused him. Even though he’d rather try to keep conversation with Sidestep to a minimum, this was something that he just couldn’t leave unasked. “Hey, Sidestep,” Blake said after a minute of silence. “Yes?” Sidestep replied, replacing her feather duster for a spray bottle containing some sort of blue liquid and several rags. “Your Cutie Mark—” Blake began, but was cut off by the sandy-coated unicorn. “What about it?” she asked in an annoyed tone. This surely wasn’t like her. “It’s just… that it’s a sixteenth note,” Blake observed, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. Sidestep turned towards him, the items she was levitating still floating in the air. “Yes it is. And why do you care?” Her tone suddenly turned harsh. Obviously this was something that bothered her. Most people would back off in this kind of situation, but Blake was determined to find out what made her happy mood turn black. “Well, from what I’ve learned, a Cutie Mark appears when a pony discovers his or her special talent. Almost a hundred percent of the time, a pony pursues this talent as their occupation for the rest of their life. It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out that a sixteenth note doesn’t really match with cleaning peoples’ rooms. Do you see where I’m getting at?” Blake explained, taking a couple steps towards her. “Congrats, you’ve figured out something that foals learn when their still babies. Would you like an award?” Sidestep said angrily, turning away from Blake. “No, utilizing common sense is an award unto itself. I was just curious as to why you’re here cleaning my room, and not out playing music, unless, of course, your Cutie Mark is a fake,” Blake said. “It is not a fake!” Sidestep exclaimed, stomping a hoof as hard as she could. The sound silently echoed throughout the room. “Look, I don’t want to pry into anything you don’t want me to, but if you need anyone to talk to, I’m… I’m…” Blake said, trailing off. He wanted to help, but his instincts told him to just back off. He didn’t need to make any more friends, but he really didn’t need to make any enemies either. He’d already tried to go through with it, so he decided he might as well carry it out. “I’ll be willing to listen,” Blake finished. He shuffled to his bed and sat upon it, his gaze directed at Sidestep. She shifted her weight again, and set the cleaning supplies back to their original resting place. “Alright, I suppose I need to tell somepony sometime,” she quietly said. She hopped onto the bed, resting alongside Blake. “I guess this also ties into why I’ve been following you this past little while.” I guess that’ll be two questions answered, at least, Blake thought. But why am I doing this? I shouldn’t be putting any trust in her at all. For all I know, she’s that silhouette that’s been following me for the past couple of weeks. She could slit a knife into my throat or shoot me with some disguised crossbow in that cart. He did his best to immediately remove these thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life not trusting anyone other than himself. He did have two people that he could consider friends, but was that enough? He might as well hear her out. If she did end up attacking him, he’d be prepared. He was on guard for any sudden movements that could be directed towards him. However, Sidestep didn’t look like the kind of pony who could do that, but looks can be deceiving. He shook his head as Sidestep started to speak. “Well, I better talk about my parents first before I go anywhere else,” Sidestep began. “Light Step was my mom and Sidewinder was my dad. They were the champions of the Manehatten Ballroom Competition for seven years straight. They put their hearts and souls into dancing, and they could never imagine life without it. When I was born, they always believed that I was destined to be some sort of world-class dancer, and they named me Sidestep, both adding elements from their names and that Sidestep suited a pony who would be dancing their whole lives. “They enrolled me in classes when I was only four-years-old. At first, I never could get the hang of it, especially during numbers where I had to stand on my hind legs. Eventually after a few years, I was the top of my class, and my parents were amazingly proud of me. But the problem was I absolutely hated it. I never enjoyed dancing, and while all my classmates were receiving their Cutie Marks, I was still a blank flank. This never worried my parents though; they always believed that one day I would eventually earn my Cutie Mark. They even told me I could quit school and become a full-time performer once I earned it. But still, at the age of ten, I hadn’t earned my Cutie Mark. I became the laughing stock of my school. Ponies were badgering me because I hadn’t earned it yet. “I became aloof, and I hardly had any friends. I ridiculed myself for the next few months. I practiced as hard as I could every day right after school for two reasons. One, I was trying to keep my parents happy, and two, I was determined to get my Cutie Mark, no matter the cost. There were even a few days where I collapsed from exhaustion because I pushed myself too hard. A year later, I turned eleven, and I still had no Cutie Mark. “I started the new school year still being called names. I believe that I was the only pony in the entire school that hadn’t earned their Cutie Mark yet. However, I met a mare that day. She had a grey coat with an equally dark grey mane. Her Cutie Mark was an odd symbol that I couldn’t quite understand. Feeling curious as to what it was, I trotted up to her and introduced myself. She replied in kind, and I learned that her name was Octavia. She told me that her family had moved from Canterlot after her parents had some financial issues and had to purchase a cheap apartment in downtown Manehatten. “After the first day ended, Octavia was kind enough to invite me to her house. I quickly ran home to my parents and told them I would be skipping practice. Even though they were reluctant to let me go, they allowed me to visit Octavia’s place. “When we arrived at her apartment, there were still moving boxes scattered around the place. She apologized for the mess, and we headed straight for her room. I don’t quite remember what it looked like, but I do remember that there was a large instrument placed on a stand in the far corner. I immediately took interest into it. Octavia explained to me that it was a cello, a stringed instrument. I asked her to play it for me and she complied with a smile. “The first time I listened to the beautiful music that she played, I knew what I wanted to do. I asked her if she could teach me how to play it. She joyously laughed and agreed to teach me. “We met every day right after school. She taught me how to read music, how to guide the bow to play notes, and how to position my hoof on the strings. I still practiced dancing as soon as I finished my lessons with Octavia. After a month or so of this routine, my parents began to get suspicious. They would constantly ask me questions like, ‘Where have you been, young lady?’ or ‘What did you do after school today, Sidestep?’ I avoided their questions by answering, ‘nothing special’ every time they interrogated me. It was a dumb answer, but it still got the job done. “Two months into practicing with Octavia, she placed in front of me a piece of music that I had never seen before. And coincidentally, it was called Paradise and it sounded identical to the tune you were whistling earlier today. Anyways, Octavia told me that this would be a test to see if I’ve actually learned anything. I sight read it the best I could, and I believed I didn’t do the best job I could’ve, but Octavia was absolutely stunned. She told me that I played the piece almost perfectly, and that was the day I earned my Cutie Mark.” She turned her head towards her flank, glancing at the sixteenth note engraved to her side. “So I assume that your parents weren’t very happy about this,” Blake said. Sidestep sighed. “Yeah, they were furious. There wasn’t any way that I could sidestep out of that one.” She made a noise that sounded in between a chuckle and a whimper. Blake couldn’t exactly tell which it was. “I was grounded and grounded hard. I wasn’t allowed to visit Octavia anymore, and I was signed up for even more dance classes, despite earning my Cutie Mark in music. “However, Octavia figured out a way around it. She actually signed me up in secret for orchestra class and surprised me. The school even allowed me to rent a cello for the year. Unfortunately, I had to pay for it behind my parent’s backs, and it took me a lot of favors to finally earn the money. By the time I was thirteen, I was old enough to get a job. I worked part-time as a cashier for a large candy shop on Rhymes Square. After a few months of hard work, I finally earned enough bits to purchase my own cello. I kept it locked in a locker in the orchestra room for the rest of my high school life so that my parents would never figure out that I was still playing music. “After I graduated, I received a music scholarship from the University of Manehatten. I quickly enrolled, despite my parent’s wishes. They wanted me to enroll for the Winstons’s Academy for Fine Arts in Canterlot, so I could continue a path for a dance career. I blatantly ignored them, and moved out of their house and stayed on campus. Octavia, however, chose to return to Canterlot to go to some really fancy school. She never specified to me what it was called. “So we parted our separate ways. We still communicated to each other through letters for our freshmare year, but after that, our friendship kind of just faded away. After I graduated from the university, I moved to Canterlot to join the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra. I was easily accepted, and I began my career as a cellist. “I was happy for about six months. I slowly moved my way up to first chair, and I was being paid graciously. We were always practicing in the Symphony Stadium, day in and day out. However, one day I heard that there was another cellist that was joining the Symphony, and it was none other than Octavia herself. At first we waved to each other awkwardly, as we hadn’t seen each other for at least a few years, but we never spoke. We never talked, we never even said ‘hi’ to each other. And as I did before, Octavia made her way through the cellist section and became second chair, just right after me. She was determined to take first chair, and that determination turned into a bitter rivalry. “I managed to keep the first chair for two weeks, but Octavia eventually bested me and took over my spot. I was devastated. I know now that I shouldn’t have been, since second chair still received a pretty good pay, but I hated myself for not being able to keep the spot. I tried my hardest to take back what was rightfully mine, but every time I showed improvement, Octavia doubled that. We bickered and argued with one another for the next couple of months. It was if our childhood friendship never even existed. “I swore that first chair was mine. I swore to myself that I would take that spot again. And there’s only two ways in the Symphony where a pony could be promoted. Either the conductor would choose, or you could challenge somepony to take their spot. So, being fed up with the conductor, I challenged Octavia. When you challenge another pony, the two would enter a room which was called the ‘Spotlight Room’. In this room, the sound inside would be amplified to the rest of the symphony by magic. However, the ponies in the Symphony couldn’t tell who was playing, so no favoritism was allowed. Each pony would then play a piece of music, and the Symphony would vote who they think sounded the best. “And again, I lost... I lost… I lost... I lost… Octavia won by a landslide, and I was forced to stay in second chair. After that, I just sort of lost my talent. I had no desire to play anymore. I was eventually fired from the Symphony as I wouldn’t even show up to rehearsals half the time. “I eventually drowned out my sorrows by drinking at a local bar. I hated myself for all that I was. But I knew that since I quit the Symphony, I needed to find a new job. My savings were running low and I was purchasing all my hard-earned bits on alcohol. I then quickly found an open position as a servant at the castle, and that’s where I’ve been working since then. It’s not the greatest job in Equestria, but at least I can afford to stay in Canterlot… I guess that’s all I have to say. I’m done.” Blake pondered to himself, trying to piece together her entire story. It was very melancholy, and Blake could somewhat understand her pain. He still had doubts if she was telling the truth, however. He still wasn’t entirely positive if he could trust her. Again, what if this was some way for him to feel sympathetic for her, and her story was just some cover for what she was really plotting: to harm him. But no parts of her tale seemed like she was lying, and she seemed sincere throughout the entire time she spoke. Just in case, Blake decided to speak up about something that seemed missing. “Sidestep, before you began, you told me that this would tie in into why you’ve been following me the past little while. I’d just like to know how this all fits in,” Blake said, making eye contact with the unicorn. “You know how I told you how I was always so aloof during the time I hadn’t earned my Cutie Mark?” she asked, jogging his memory. “Yeah, I still remember you saying that,” Blake replied. “It’s just that I see so much of me back then in you,” Sidestep stated. Blake cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?” “You’re always in the library reading those books that are older than my grandmother. You hardly ever speak to anypony unless it’s sort of forced, and if you do, you always try to retreat from those conversations as quickly as possible. That’s exactly how I was. I never wanted to talk to anypony, and I always wanted to be lost in my own little world,” Sidestep said, shifting her weight on the bed to get more comfortable and snug. It must be a habit of hers to shift her weight like that, Blake thought. “Yeah, that’s pretty much true. So what about it?” “You can’t comprehend how happy and joyful I was after I met Octavia. I was so much more open towards ponies, and I could talk and mingle for hours on end. The world around me seemed so much more vibrant and colorful, and I could never but help to smile during my school years, even when I was being lectured by my parents. My point is that friendship is something that can and will change your life. I’ve been talkative and friendly with you because I wanted to show you what it’s like to have friends that make your life easier to live with,” Sidestep said, lifting a hoof and placing it on Blake’s shoulder. At first, he flinched from the sudden feeling of another person making physical contact with him. He forced himself to relax, ignoring the signals from his conscience telling him to shake her off. But the thought about friends reminded him of… home. It reminded him of his family… his friends… and all the wonderful times that they shared together, the happy events that will forever be burned into his memory, just waiting to be tapped at any given time. Blake lost himself in thought that was as empty as the Pacific Ocean. Sidestep noticed his unexpected shut down of everything that was around him, and attempted to snap him out of it. She gently nudged him with the hoof that was resting on his shoulder, trying to get his attention. He didn’t comply as he continued to directly stare into the empty walls in the opposite corner of the room. She began enunciating to him, but her words came to Blake an annoying buzz, like flies that were a nuisance to get rid of. “Melody,” Blake mumbled, twiddling with his thumbs. “Mom… dad… Zach and Kelsey. I miss you guys so much…” He leaned forward, clutching his hands over his face to hold the tears from flowing. “Oh my Celestia,” Sidestep said, hopping off the bed. “What did I say to make you burst into tears?” “Please… just go,” Blake cried. He wanted to move on from his losses, but every time he would think about them, he would lose control over himself. He tried telling himself that nothing was his fault. Everything that happened to him was just fate picking a fight with him. Trying to bully him into submission. He wanted to fight back, but he couldn’t. He was too afraid to let go, and move on. There was nothing he could to bring them back, so why was he clutching so hard on something that was impossible to hold onto? “If you could please just tell me what’s wrong—” “JUST GO!” Blake snapped, his eyes now a red shade. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Sidestep never finished her sentence. She ran out of the room with the most confused look on her face. What did he just do? She was trying to show him kindness, but he swatted it away like it was nothing. Could things have gone better? He slammed the door behind Sidestep, and then proceeded to force himself under the covers of his bed. He cried himself to sleep with the heaviest thoughts on his mind. <><><><><><><><><><> Author’s Note Okay, before you say anything about Sidestep, I just wanted to say that I was originally planning for her backstory to be only a couple paragraphs. Those paragraphs eventually turned into about two pages worth of words, because I couldn’t stop myself from writing more about it. I just wanted to say that before any of you wonder why I suddenly threw this character into the mix. Siege, out.