Intermission pt. 1: Daemonic Heritage
Canterlot, the Shining symbol of wealth and might in the centre of the Pony Nation, was a flurry of activity. Large signs and blinking lights tried to lure in potential customers to various establishments in the lower and middle districts, while in the upper district, garden parties were abundant. The whole city created its own ambience with the sounds of music, chatter and heated arguments. There was, however, an exception to that.
The house of the noble family of Melody sat in silence, for the day was a day of joy, but also of great tragedy. A foal had been born, with a grey coat and black mane and tail. However, the foal was not a unicorn, but a mere earth pony.
“What?! How could you?! Why did you not tell me that your blood was tainted by this mudpony scum?!” The father shouted as he saw the misfit that was his daughter.
“MY blood?! My blood is as pure as holy water! I dare say that it was your blood that brought forth this mess!” The mother shouted back, both ignoring the crying foal that still lay in her mother’s forelegs.
The father scowled, but noticed that his servants were still in the room and even though they all were professionals beyond mortal comprehension, even their masks seemed to crack slightly. So, instead of disgracing himself any further, the father instead turned around, left the room and slammed the door shut behind him.
In his study, he then busied himself with reading books. However, as if the universe was playing some perverse game with him, everything now seemed to remind him of the pile of dirt that has now become his daughter. ‘Studies on Earth Pony Physiology’, ‘Earth Ponies: the Third Race’, ‘Equis Draconis – Connections between Ponies and Dragons?’.
In a fit of Rage, the stallion ran his hoof once over his desk, screaming out his rage for everypony to hear. However, not only did this action create a horrid mess in the otherwise orderly room, but it also revealed something that was hidden within one of the books. A small envelope with a big red seal on it, depicting a moon that distorted downward into a drip of blood.
The moment the stallion saw the envelope, his rage subsided, instead replaced by confused curiosity. He ripped it open and read through the contents, a small smile slowly creeping up his lips as he did so. “Maybe she isn’t so useless after all…”
On her sixth birthday, the daughter of house Melody blew out the candles, which, as per tradition, was followed by a light applause from all the servants in the room, though none of them broke their stoicism to do so. The father was entirely absent that day, only the mother sat beside her daughter, more out of tradition than out of actual love for her foal.
“Mommy, where are my presents?” the young filly asked as the cake was cut, but no presents were to be seen.
“Oh dear, your father is currently busy preparing it. You will receive your gift this evening. Be a good filly in the meantime and be patient, understood?” The mother said, with as much disinterest as she always did. The young filly smiled at her mother. This tone of voice meant that everything was good, right? At least she wasn’t yelled at, so she didn’t do anything wrong.
“Okay, mother.” She said, picking up the fork and eating her cake like a good filly.
Later that evening, it finally was time. Her mother called her and together, they went… into the basement?
“Here.” The mother said, while pointing at a door. “Behind this door waits your present. Just go inside and stand in the middle of the room. I will close the door behind you.”
The young filly was unsure of it at first, but as her mother seemed to grow impatient, she quickly slipped inside. After all, she knew what happened if she didn’t behave.
The room was dark. So dark that she could barely see her own hooves. That is, until her mother closed the door and her sight was no more.
“Mother? Mother, what’s going on? Mother, I’m scared!” The filly whined, but nopony seemed to hear her.
Suddenly a light illuminated the room. It was her father’s horn that had started to glow. “Father! You’re here! Wait, is this part of my birthday present?” She asked.
“Yes, it is. Now, stay right there. Your father has to do something first.”
The stallion then lowered his horn to the ground, where some weird lines were drawn. As soon as his horn touched these lines, they suddenly started to glow, basking the room in a bright blue light and revealing several other ponies, who stood in a circle around her, all wearing white robes.
“Father? Father, who are these po—aaargh!”
A searing pain flew through her whole body, making her want to scream, but weakening her too much to do so. She felt how her innermost parts, no, her very soul was infested by something foreign that pressed itself into her like a knife into a loaf of bread.
The glow of the lines around her intensified thousandfold and with her fading senses, she faintly heard the ponies around her sing a weird song that made her head burn.
After several minutes of suffering, the pain finally started to lessen, until in the end, it was completely gone. By the end of it, the filly was a panting mess, laying on the ground, only barely still conscious.
With all her remaining strength, she barely managed to push herself to her legs again and, just as she did so, she saw everypony around her bow down.
“My mistress, we, your humble servants, have summoned you to this realm to retake your rightful throne. Please, answer us!”
“Mistress? Servants? Father, what’s wrong? Why are these ponies bowing down? Where are my presents?” The filly asked weakly.
As soon as these words left her lips, all the ponies in the room rose again and scurried away, leaving only her father and her. He made a few quick steps towards her and before she could even see what he was doing, she felt a hoof striking her cheek.
“Not even as a sacrifice are you any good. You truly are a disgrace – no! You are a true kharagh. A curse.” Her father spat, before turning around and exiting the room, leaving the sobbing filly on the ground, all by herself.
From that day on, the filly’s life changed for the worse. The little love her parents seemed to have was now gone as well, instead replaced with disgust that she came to feel every day from then on.
She was no longer the daughter of the noble family of Melody. Officially, she didn’t even exist anymore. All she was, was another rat in the house and it was made pretty clear to her that, for a rat, she was very privileged. She was the only rat that was purposely kept alive, after all. Granted, she wasn’t allowed to leave the house, sometimes not even the little room she called her own, but still, she lived… somehow.
Rarely was she allowed to sit with her parents in the livingroom, although those times, she was treated more like another servant than their daughter. She was sent to fetch water or wine and sometimes even more exotic beverages when they felt like it and while these instances didn’t occur on any regular basis, they happened often enough for the little filly to thoroughly memorize the sizable wine cellar that the family possessed.
This went on for a further two years, until one day something peculiar happened. The filly woke up, not woken up by any of the servants or her father, but by the rays of the sun shining through the tiny window in her chamber. She slowly opened one eye, then ripped both open and jumped out of her bed. She knew what her father would do to her if she overslept and she was very eager to avoid that.
She quickly combed her mane to look acceptable and rushed out of her room, only to find… nothing. Nopony was waiting for her, nopony was cussing her out… nopony was even there.
She slowly opened the door to the living room, but found nopony yet again. What she did find, though, was her mother’s cello. The one she was never allowed to touch, under any circumstances. The one that now seemed to magically draw her in, as if something inside her was driving her towards it.
She lifted her forehoof up and, without having ever played before, grabbed the bow and started playing as if she had never done anything else. A soft glow emanated from behind her, but she didn’t notice, as her body was currently moving on its own.
A soft tune filled the room. Soft reverberations that, were it not for the pony playing them being visible right there, could as well have come from a seasoned artist. They were so masterfully played that, when the father barged into the room, he did, this once, not scream in anger at her. He simply stood there, awestruck at the performance that his daughter was delivering.
The filly stopped playing and set the bow down. The moment she did so, her father was taken out of his awe and now clearly saw the young filly standing beside her mother’s cello. “You little kharagh! What did I tell you about touching your mother’s cello?!” He screamed, lunging forwards to hit the filly. However, the mother stepped in, catching her husband mid-air and calming him down.
“Darling, wait, didn’t you hear that? She knew how to play the cello! And so good at that! Darling, she has so much talent, maybe we can make use of that?” She offered, making her husband think for a moment.
“Yes, she has talent… but she also knows how to play the cello.” He stepped forward, pressing his snout into the filly’s. “Spit it out, you little kharagh! Who taught you to play cello?!”
The filly flinched back and lowered herself to the ground, shivering from her father’s wrath. “N-Nopony taught me! I-I didn’t even know what I was doing!”
A hoof flew over her face, making it burn with pain and turn a deep red. “Don’t lie to your father! Who taught you?!”
The filly pleaded again, saying that nopony taught her and again, her father wouldn’t listen. His hoof came down again, but it never hit the filly, as her mother, yet again, stepped in.
“Darling, look!” She said, pointing to the filly’s flank. The father followed the point and saw that his daughter’s flanks were now adorned by a cutie mark. A treble clef was now imprinted onto both of her flanks.
The father lowered his hoof upon seeing this, however his anger did not subside. Instead of hitting her, he stared the filly down, telling her in a commanding tone: “Go into your room. We will talk later.”
The filly immediately did as her father commanded, running off into her room as fast as she could. When she closed the door to her room, she immediately jumped into her bed… and started to cry.
After a few moments of crying, the filly heard hoofsteps in front of her door. She quickly wiped the tearstains off her face and sat upright. After all, her father told her that he didn’t want her to cry when he was around. The door opened and the father stepped in, together with her mother, who waited by the door.
“You are going to school from now on.” The father told her out of the blue.
“Huh?” Was all the filly brought out before her father continued.
“Starting tomorrow, you will be attending school. You will be a bit behind, so you will have to also study at home to keep up.” He leaned in to bring himself face-to-face with his daughter. “I will give you a chance to offset the disgrace you have brought upon my family by becoming a cellist. For this, you will have to pass school first. This is an exception, are we clear? If you fail, then I no longer have a daughter.”
“W-Will it make you proud if I do that?” the filly asked almost anxiously. The father, in turn, chuckled darkly and retreated himself from his daughter’s face.
“Yes, daughter of mine. Yes, it will make your father very proud.”
The filly spent the next few years studying hard in order to fulfil her parent’s wishes. She never made any friends during that time, only ever focusing on scoring the best marks. When she was at home, she practiced playing the cello. She was overjoyed when she got one of her own for her twelfth birthday.
The years ran by and the filly grew up to be an absolutely stunning young mare. She was beautiful, talented, but at the same time oh so unreachable. Nopony who ever spoke to her got more than a friendly smile, a greeting and a friendly decline. Nopony, except one young mare.
When the filly finally was old enough to apply for the Canterlot Orchestra, her parents pushed her to do so. However, up until now, she had always only had her parents as audience and they could already be so cruel when giving her scores. How would other ponies react, if her own parents already did that way?
“And now the young lady of house Melody!” One of the judges called out. She was next, but her legs refused to move.
“Miss Melody? Miss Melody!” The judge called yet again, but her legs still wouldn’t budge.
That was when, suddenly, she felt something creep down her legs. Like snakes that slithered their way down, winding themselves around her extremities like they were about to devour them whole. She glanced downwards and almost screamed out in horror, as she saw two thick, black tentacles spiral down her legs. However, she didn’t manage to scream. She didn’t even manage to flinch. It seemed as if those tentacles had completely taken over her entire body, as she suddenly started to move.
Without her own input she laid her left hoof over her cello and her other grabbed the bow. Then, like a puppet on strings, she began to play. The judges were immediately enamoured by the soft tune her hooves produced and before she realized, the tentacles were gone. She alone was now playing the cello. She was the one playing this lovely tune and as she finished her piece, the judges and small audience broke out in applause.
She had done it. She actually made it into the orchestra! Her spirits were high. Finally would her parents properly recognize her and no longer look at her with disgust!
With these thoughts in mind, she entered practice the next day, together with the other musicians. She took a seat in the strings section and started to play.
“Woah, you’re really good!” A young mare beside her told her after the first rehearsal. Her coat was mint-green and her mane was light grey with a white stripe running through it. “I’m Lyra Heartstrings. Nice to meet you!”
The musician stretched her hoof out to the mare, who in turn only stared at it until Lyra just grabbed her hoof and shook it that way.
“Ehm… I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, miss Heartstrings.”
“Just Lyra is fine. And you are?” She asked excitedly.
“I? Oh, I’m the daughter of house Melody.” The mare answered.
“Pff, yeah, I knew that. I mean, what’s your name?” She asked again.
“Name? I, euh…” The mare thought for a moment. Had she ever even received a name? Her father and mother always only called her ‘daughter’ or sometimes even ‘karagh’ when they were angry, but never anything else.
“I… I don’t think I ever received a name.”
Lyra stood still for a moment and stared at her, waiting for her to say that this was a joke. When nothing like that came she just laughed nervously. “Eheheh… ehm, okay… but I have to call you something, don’t I? Well, let’s see…”
Lyra put her hoof to her chin and thought. She looked around the room for inspiration and her gaze inadvertently fell to the mare’s cutie mark.
“Hey, how about ‘Trebla’?”
“Trebla? I… don’t know. It sounds a little… Weird.” The mare said tentatively.
“Eh, you’re right. It sounded better in my head, but something about music would definitely fit for you… Maybe eighth?”
“Euh… why exactly an eighth?” she asked.
“Oh, you know, because eight is just everywhere! We’ve got the eighth, we got the octav—OCTAVIA!” Lyra suddenly shouted, making the mare recoil in her seat.
“W-What?”
“Your new name! Octavia Melody, how does that sound?” She asked excitedly.
“Oc… tavia… Octavia Melody… Yes! I like it!” Octavia agreed happily.
“Great! So from now on your name will be Octavia! Nice to be your Musicbuddy, Octavia!” Lyra said.
“… Musicbuddy?”
“Y’know, like normal buddies, but with music involved! Musicbuddies!”
Octavia giggled into her hoof, before smiling at Lyra, her new and first friend. “Okay, we’re Musicbuddies now. Nice to meet you, Lyra.”
After rehearsal, Octavia went home with a little more pep in her step than usual. She felt absolutely delighted at having just found her first friend. So excited, in fact, that she immediately went to tell her parents.
“Father, mother, I’m back from the orchestra rehearsal.” She announced courtly upon entering the living room. “And I’ve made a friend along the way.” She added excitedly.
“A friend you say? Is she a unicorn?” her mother asked.
“A Unicorn? Euh, yes, yes she is. Her name is Lyra Heartstrings and she – well – she plays the lyra in our orchestra.”
“Ah, the Heartstrings-family. Minor nobility, but yet not a name that’s all-too unknown.” Her father added in.
“Ah, yes, and that’s the second thing I wanted to ask you. Do I actually have a name?”
“No, we didn’t bother giving you one.” Her father answered with disinterest.
“Oh… Well, you don’t have to bother anymore. Lyra gave me a name, Octavia, and I think it—“
Octavia barely had time to react as she saw a hoof flying for her face. The tentacles appeared again, this time wrapping themselves around her face in a thick, protective layer, catching most of the blow. The leftover force still made Octavia recoil, but she didn’t actually feel that much pain from it.
“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! This brat dared name MYPROPERTY?!” Her father fumed.
“What- What’s wrong, father? What did I do wrong, what—“ Octavia stammered with tears in her eyes, though these tears were not from her physical pain.
“Go into your room and don’t you dare come out today anymore!” He screamed at her, before leaning down and giving her his most potent death-glare. “And I never, EVER want to hear that accursed name again. I was right after all. You truly ARE a kharagh!”
Octavia didn’t know what to say anymore. Her ears were laid back and she was slowly retreating backwards towards the door. This slow retreat then turned into a gallop, when she reached the door, turned around and fled to her own room, where she immediately pressed her face into her pillow and started to cry.
Originally I wanted to get this little sidestory through in one go, but I didn't manage to get it done in time. Instead I am going to resume this either immediately next week or write a few main-story-chapters first, before finishing this. I leave that up to you.
Also, as some of you might have notice, I took some *cough* 'Inspiration' from another fic, called 'A Puppet To Her Fame'. I have asked the author if this is okay for him, but so fa hae yet to receive an answer. Depending on his answer, this chapter might very well be deleted at a later date, which will be an absolute hammer to my dick, 'cause this was one of the hardest chapters to write so far. 
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i hope markus sends them to hell
Hard for you to write and even harder for me to read
10711782
I hope that that's because of the content and not because of my writing. If it's because of my writing then please tell me, what I could do better. Can't improve without knowing, what I have to do differently.
10712079
I wouldn’t still be here if it was the writing definitely the content
10187679
What about the instant mastery of magic?
10719293
He merely creates a small illusion, where he lets his magic flow around his hand and take different forms. At this point he hasn't mastered anything, really. He just uses his inherent magic in the most basic way he is able to. I presume the next question would be, why he has any inherent magic at all, but that question is answered within the story... somewhere in chapter 45 or 46 i think.
10723913
yes