I slowly made my way through the plaza. It was a lovely day, not a cloud or disturbance in sight. The Canterlotians, like always, were chattering around me. Women in gay dresses, men in bright tunics, and Royal Guards were all having a great time under the Equestrian sun. They had finally accepted Trixie's rule as Empress.
Even though the day was so pleasant, I felt my continuous ache in my right knee. By these days, my pains were increasing. I was trying to keep my strength by walking through the city every day. If it was helping, I could not tell. How could my legs be aging so fast?
My grimace drew some stares from the civilians. Huh, civilians. I was still not used to including myself among the normal folk. I no longer had a hood nor gracious robes produced by some loving Bearer. However, I still possessed by hidden blades for safety reasons. All my years of being in danger had left me in a state of constant vigilance. Royal Guards were still a sign of authority I did not want to accept and the spires called my name to climb them. A life that was gone was not ready to be forgotten.
"Damn it!"
With my useless curse, I placed myself on a plaza bench. My hand, through habit, started rubbing my knee, trying to relief it somewhat. I was jealous of the older men and women who fared better than me health wise. Men with grey beards and heads carried heavy loads with ease. Women with arched backs and hag-like features swept the fronts of their homes or hung out laundry to dry on high-strung ropes above the streets.
"Is this because of Valor?" I asked myself.
My hand was ruined also. Vinyl and the...Sons of Discord purposely botched my surgery no doubt. It was so symbol to remove a thin shard from within my palm, but they destroyed my hand in the process. I could still use it to hold some objects, but my tendons did not let me move each digit individually. I could only assume I contracted some disease through the wound. That or age was finding me much faster than normal.
I leaned back on the bench. This was my favorite plaza to visit these days. The people, how I loved to watch them. They were always busy, doing something unique or special. Every person was an interesting specimen worth investigating. Young, old, beautiful, ugly, all of them had their own stories. Most were unlikely to be as exciting as mine, but to me, that did not matter. I hoped they were not as interesting as mine, actually.
As always, I started to think about Vinyl returning to me. I had a feeling she could come at any moment. My routine was to watch the people while I prepared another part of my speech for her. Every day I added pieces to it, about how she should not follow Discord, about how the Brotherhood is done, and about how we used to be friends. Two parts added every day and one part forgotten by the next.
However, I could not concentrate this time. Something felt off. I could feel eyes watching me. In my paranoia, I glanced about through the crowds of people. Was it Vinyl? Had she finally showed up? No, it was not her. I knew it was not because she would be leaning on my shoulders, her face right behind mine. No, someone else was watching me.
During my years as an Assassin, I would have jumped up and ran away towards the rooftops. Not today. I took a deep breath and simply waited for the stalker to appear.
It did not take long. I was watching my right for the lurker, but the sound of a cocked pistol was heard to my left. With a casual turn of my head, my eyes met the barrel of a gun. The weapon was being held to my face by a girl with curly pink hair and a white stripe going through it. A look of pure hatred was on her scowling face.
"I found you." She said with a growl.
"Well, perhaps. Who are you looking for?" I asked her calmly.
"You are Octavia Melody, the woman who killed my father!"
I was not shocked by her words. I already had a feeling it was something like that. Her eyes were so familiar, the shape, the color, that I recognized them. They were the same worried eyes of Sir Filthy Rich, a Templar that I had killed. You never forget the eyes of those you killed.
"I am Octavia."
"I'm here to finally get my revenge!" The girl shouted. "I'll kill you just like you killed him!"
"I understand." I nodded. "Revenge is a worthy cause to pull that trigger, young one. However, if you were so determined to shoot me, you would have done it already."
"Do not mock me!"
"I'm not. I would not mock the one who holds my life in her hands. I am sorry for assassinating your father."
"Oh please!"
I continued, ignoring her roll of the eyes. "It was a crucial part of my life. I killed your father in cold blood, but his death affected me more than you know. I know simply saying 'sorry' will not be worth it. I cannot comprehend how much you miss him or how much pain I've brought you. Girl, you have every right to kill me, even my permission in front of the witnesses. I'll tell you now, your father's death was the beginning of me growing into a woman, and ceasing to be some girl playing with daggers."
Her hand faltered, but she held the pistol up. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. Her snarl only deepened and her precious face was hideous with anger.
"You took him from me!"
"Yes."
"You murdered him!"
"Yes."
"Bring him back!"
I shook my head. "You know I can't, and neither can your vengeance."
"You didn't even let us bury him! Mommy at least wanted that!" She began to cry.
"I gave him a proper burial by the river. I gave him the respect he deserved. He, like many Canterlot heroes, fell off the waterfall."
Tears were streaming down her face now. The pistol that had been at my face was lowered. I only watched calmly as she wiped her tears away with her sleeve. I wanted to hug her and desperately apologize, but I only sat there in silence.
"Thank....thank you for that." She said through a sob.
"You have no reason to thank me. I'm glad you chose peace instead of violence. The life of one who kills is not worth living, young one. Do not be like me. I am a lighthouse that warns people to stay away from my path."
"I...I want my father back..." She sniffled.
"I know. I...I can't bring him back." I started to falter.
The gun slipped out of her hand and landed on the cobblestone. Her face was of utter defeat. The next moment, she buried her face into my chest, sobbing softly. I was taken aback by this, but soon found my arms around her, trying to comfort her in some way.
"It's alright, child. I can't feel your loss, but I do understand how it is to lose someone close. Trust me, I lost six....and a seventh."
"I can't even get revenge for my father..." She continued to sob.
"It's not worth it. Killing me would not have filled up the hole in your heart. That is meant to heal with time and care. I am the reason for your suffering, but I will try to help it be mended."
"Did you...really lose six friends?" She looked up at me.
"Yes. They were great friends too." I smiled back at her.
"What...what were they like?"
"I'll tell you. If it comforts you, I'll tell you about my six friends. Here, sit next to me."
She broke off from me and sat on the open part of the bench beside me. Tears were stained on her cheeks, but I could tell most of the outburst had passed. I was not used to dealing with such a young person, but I forced myself to only think of good for her sake. She owed me nothing and had every right to call me a monster. I must be grateful for this opportunity to help her wounds.
"Well, they were six courageous women. Twilight, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash. Twilight was a scholar and had a love for books of all kind. Applejack was an honest farmer that lived down in Ponyville, she had a younger sister that you remind me of. Fluttershy was a kind woman that cared for animals of all shapes and sizes. She was always quiet, but she was wise in her silence. Rarity was just like you. Always in high fashion and ready to help others through Generosity. Pinkie Pie, you would have liked her, was the nicest, happiest and most laughter-filled woman that ever lived. Nothign could bring her down or even make her frown. Then, there was the notorious Rainbow Dash. She was a....a....performer. She was loyal like a dog and never left a friend hanging. Let me tell you how those six impacted my life and made me the woman you meet today..."
~