> A Symphony of Gray and Red
>  by TheKissoftheVoid
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> An Old Mask, A New Face
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Twilight sighed as she at last made her way to the inviting door of her new bedroom. She’d only been living in the crystal palace for a few days now, and between its sheer size and helping her friends get their respective spaces in order, she’d barely had any time to learn the layout. Even so, her tired smile was proud. She’d only gotten lost for seven minutes tonight, which was a great improvement over the fifteen of yesterday.
    Still, the princess was more than ready for bed. Since her return from Our Town, she’d barely had a single moment’s peace. Ponyville was still buzzing with the activity of rebuilding in the wake of Tirek’s rampage, and while most of the structures had been fully repaired, those that weren’t often benefited from a little arcane attention. Between that, the short day court she was forcing herself to hold, and a near constant barrage of correspondence from the other princesses, the junior alicorn was absolutely, undeniably, irrefutably beat.
    Twilight’s door opened with a weary flick of magic. As she shuffled in, her eyes settled immediately on the bed, and she grinned as that timelessly enticing promise of well deserved sleep filled her. She briefly glanced toward her bathroom as the thought of brushing her teeth nagged at her, but she waved it away, craving the sleep far more. The sheets were cool as she climbed on to the spacious bed, and her smile grew as she wiggled beneath them, kicking her legs about and enjoying the sensation of the cool sheets against her hooves. Finally settling into a comfortable position, she took a final, deep breath in, and let herself sink into wonderful darkness as she it escape.
    “Princess Twilight.”
    Twilight’s ear twitched, but she gave the voice no more than a second’s consideration. Nopony but Spike shared her room, and as it wasn’t his voice speaking, she dismissed it as an early dream. 
    “Princess Twilight.”
    Again, Twilight paused on the edge of sleep, wondering if it really was Spike and she was just too tired to hear him properly. A moment’s thought made her shake her head. “It’s not like he’d ever call me ‘Princess’,” she murmured.
    “You’re right, Princess,” came the reply, “which is one way you can tell that somepony else is speaking. Please don’t fall asleep. I’ll feel that much worse if I have to wake you up.”
    That Twilight seriously doubted she was dreaming, which meant two things. One, somepony must have something urgent if they were bothering her this late. Two, somepony had been waiting for her in her bedroom, and she hadn’t even noticed. 
    Twilight fumbled with the sheets, just close enough to sleep to be clumsy as she threw them off and looked around in bleary alarm. Fortunately, the intruder was fairly obvious, standing next to her window loft with a lit candle. The dim light made it hard to be certain, but Twilight was fairly certain she recognized the long, black mane and gray-brown coat before her. 
    “Octavia?”
    The mare nodded, an apologetic look on her face. “Yes. I’m sorry to come in like this, and I’m sorry to keep you from your sleep. I know you’ve been incredibly busy, and you need to rest up, but I couldn’t put this off any longer.”
    Twilight blinked, more baffled than irritated. She’d known the cellist by reputation even before her move to Ponyville, and certainly enjoyed her music when the mood took her, but she’d never really spent much time with her. The princess didn’t exactly consider her a stranger, but she was definitely more of an acquaintance than a friend, and why she would call on Twilight at such an hour was a complete mystery. She shook her head, trying to clear the veil of sleep from her mind, before looking around the room a few times and asking, “How long have you been there?”
    “Since before you came in,” Octavia replied candidly.
    “How did you get in my room?”
    Octavia looked away uncomfortably and said, “I. . . have my ways. That actually relates to what I came here to speak to you about.”
    “And what would that be?” Twilight asked, annoyance finally creeping into her tone. “Why didn’t you bring it up in the day court I held earlier? Why didn’t you come and speak to me when I was in town earlier?”
    “This is. . . a very private matter, Princess, one that I hardly ever discuss with anypony. More importantly, it would almost certainly cause problems if other ponies were to find out.”
    Twilight raised an eyebrow as a distant but familiar string of memories occurred to her. She raised a hoof and deadpanned, “Just be be clear, you aren’t about to confess your love for and announce your intent to court me, right?”
    Octavia’s face went blank for a beat before her muzzle tightened with a barely suppressed smile. “No, Princess, although given your new position and where you grew up, I understand why you might think that. The Canterlot nobles can be rather incorrigible.”
    Twilight snickered and said, “You can say that again,” before remembering the situation and regaining her irritated look. “So, if you aren’t here for that, why in Equestria did you sneak into my room in the middle of the night?” 
    Octavia’s expression became serious again. The earth pony paused, took a deep breath, and said, “Before I say it, I have to preface with this; I don’t expect you to believe what I’m about to tell you without evidence, and I’m more than willing to provide it. That said, given what you are about to learn, I ask that you please not judge me hastily or harshly until I’ve given a full account of my. . . unique circumstances. It would be absurd of me to ask for a promise, but please, give me the benefit of the doubt before you make any final decisions.”
    Curiosity and was steadily replacing Twilight’s annoyance and fatigue. She rolled herself off of the bed and studied Octavia carefully for a few moments before murmuring, “Okay. I’ll try.”
    Octavia nodded, clearly nervous in spite of her solemn expression, and said, “Thank you.” She opened her mouth, stopped, looked away, and looked back. This cycle repeated itself a few times before she licked her lips, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m a vampire.”
    Twilight blinked. Then she blinked again. She opened her mouth, only to close it, before tilting her head sideways and narrowing her eyes at the other mare. “Say that again?”
    Octavia’s face didn’t change. “I’m a vampire.”
    Twilight sighed as she closed her eyes and brought a hoof to her forehead. “Did Pinkie or Rainbow put you up to this? Or maybe Discord? I could see this being his idea of an apology prank.”
    Octavia remained stone serious, although a little irritation of her own bled into her voice as she said, “This isn’t a joke, Twilight. I didn’t come here in the dead of night just to pull your tail.”
    Twilight began to retort, but a hoof was on her lips before the sound came out. She looked up at Octavia, who met her gaze intently. “I told you that you wouldn’t take me at my word, Twilight. Let me show you instead.” The hoof left her lips, only to linger briefly on her chin. “Please don’t scream.” 
    Octavia stepped away from Twilight, stopping just before her window and blowing out the candle. For the briefest of moments she was hidden by the darkness before stepping backward, illuminated by the dim light of the moon. The shadows, however, seemed reluctant to give her up. They clung to her, distorting her form and hiding her features. Twilight shivered as a strange pall of cold fell around her, and her irritation faded into a growing sense of uncertainty and an odd, primal fear. Unable to take it, Twilight lit her horn brilliantly, driving away the darkness and revealing a pony that looked decidedly different than she had seconds earlier.
The gray of Octavia’s coat was practically shining, and her mane had somehow darkened into a shade of black so sleek and lustrous that even Rarity’s mane look dull by comparison. The curves of her body had both softened and sharpened, giving her a form that any model would envy. Her ears had grown noticeably more pointed, and her face had become more angular. What stood out most, however, was her eyes. Her irises had deepened at least three shades from their usual amethyst, and the pupils had narrowed into something more akin to a cat’s. In the light of Twilight’s spell, they seemed to glow, shining brightly above an unsmiling, fanged mouth. 
Twilight recoiled, her mind racing as she took in the sight. “Okay,” she said slowly, “I admit that’s a good one. You got me. You can stop now.” The last sentence was more plea than request.
Octavia remained impassive. “This isn’t a trick, Twilight.”
“It has to be,” the alicorn insisted, shaking her head. “There’s no such thing as vampires.”
“And Nightmare Moon was just an old mare’s tale,” Octavia retorted calmly. “And the Princess Mi Amore Cadenza that married your brother was the real thing from the beginning. And dear Pinkie Pie has no talents or abilities that can’t be explained by logic.” She gave the princess a meaningful look. “All of these things appeared to be true on the surface, but none actually were. Some changed with evidence, some with intuition, but all changed. A vampire now stands before you, engaging you in conversation. Is it so hard to accept that the greatest myth about us is the idea that we’re a myth at all?”
Twilight took a step back, a maelstrom whirling in her head. Octavia’s argument was stronger than she liked. It wasn’t enough, not by itself, but it wasn’t something she could flatly ignore either. Her words lagged behind, coming out as a choppy, “That doesn’t. . . I mean it wouldn’t. . . what I. . .” She took a deep breath, attempting to focus. “If what you’re saying is true, and I’m not saying I believe it, but if it is. . . well, that’s a lot to take in.”
Octavia nodded. “Yes, it is. That’s why I offered to give evidence. Let me show you. I’m not going to feed on you!” she added hastily, seeing Twilight’s interjection before she made it. “I don’t feed on other ponies unless I have permission.” Calming back down, she continued, “That aside, a fair number of myths surrounding vampires are true. If you wish to test me on any of them, by all means, ask, and I’ll oblige if I can.”
Twilight hesitated. On one hoof, she was still hesitant to believe the other mare, and some small but vocal part of her was afraid of what being wrong could mean. On the other, her immutable curiosity had been piqued, and if Octavia truly was a vampire, then this was an opportunity that Twilight couldn’t possibly pass up. She looked up at Octavia, who returned her gaze patiently, and murmured, “Um. . . do vampires really have super equine strength or speed?”
Octavia gave her an encouraging smile and nodded. “We do. Very much so in the case of Earth Ponies.” There was a loud whisper of air, and Twilight blinked as Octavia disappeared in a gray blur, reappearing in the same instant on the other side of the room. The gray mare looked sideways, eyeing one of Twilight’s heavily laden bookshelves, and, with no apparent effort, pushed a forehoof underneath it and lifted it above her head. The wood groaned at the movement as Octavia bowed her head slightly, still wearing her small smile. After a few seconds she lowered the bookshelf, placing it back against the wall and sliding her hoof from beneath it with a quiet *boom*.
Despite the care that the other mare had taken, the thud of the bookshelf still startled Twilight. She hadn’t realized how quiet the room had become, and a twinge of panic crept through her as she realized that Spike had been in the room with them the whole time. Glancing at the young dragon, Twilight was relieved to see that he was still curled deep in his bed. Even so, she raised a hoof to her lips and whispered, “Shhhh. I don’t wanna wake Spike.”
Octavia’s small smile grew. “We won’t, Princess. I gave him a very vivid, very pleasant, and very hard to wake from dream, complete with some time with Miss Rarity and a storm that rains gems.”
“Really?” Twilight responded curiously. “Vampires can do dream magic?”
Octavia shook her head. “Not specifically. What we can do is dazzle others in order to influence them. In this case, to make Spike both happy and difficult to awaken.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes uneasily. “Dazzle?”
“Yes,” answered Octavia, her smile disappearing. “It’s essentially vampiric hypnosis, but before you jump-”
Octavia stopped talking as an opaque barrier materialized between the alicorn and herself, one which quickly curled itself around her, trapping her in the dark. Sound, however, seemed to pass through it normally, for the chime of magic was clear as Twilight cast a few additional spells. The alicorn exhaled forcefully as she finished and glared at the arcane cylinder in front of her. “Undo whatever you did to him!” she demanded forcefully.
From within the barrier came Octavia’s reply. While she spoke no louder than before, the tension in her voice was palpable, and her tone suggested that Twilight had just crossed a serious line. “Princess, you need to be reasonable. I’m more than willing to explain myself, and feel free to use whatever spells make you feel safe, but you need to let me out. Now. I will not be imprisoned, not by anypony, and I will use force if you make me. Please don’t make me. Please let me out so that we talk sensibly.”
Twilight just tightened her jaw. “Let Spike wake up. Then I’ll let you out.”
A snort sounded behind the barrier. “You wake him up. I did nothing that enough prodding won’t undo.” There was a pause, and when next she spoke it was not a request. “Let me out, Twilight. Now.”
The princess ignored the demand, opting instead to hurry over to Spike’s bed and begin shaking the young drake roughly. “Spike? Spike wake up,” she said urgently, levitating him up and inspecting his neck closely. Finding no wounds, she redoubled her efforts, jostling him roughly in the air. “Spike!”
After ten seconds or so, the dragon finally began to stir, attempting to curl into himself with a slightly irritated look on his face. “No, Twilight,” he slurred. “Gimmie five more minutes.”
Twilight let out a sigh of relief. “Thank Celestia.”
Spike attempted to go back to sleep for a moment before letting out a sigh of his own and opening his eyes to glare dully at Twilight. “Yeah, thank Celestia, you woke me out of the best dream I’ve had in. . . ever.” He began glancing around drowsily. “What’s going on? Why did you need me to wake up?”
Twilight’s mouth opened, but no sound came out as she realized that she was not even remotely prepared to explain the situation to her faux sibling. Glancing furtively at the barrier containing Octavia, she pasted a very thin grin on her face and said “Er, nothing! You were just tossing and turning, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Twilight could see Spike fighting not to be angry as he heaved another, much larger sigh. “Well, everything was fine,” he muttered, caught halfway between irritation and disappointment. “Thanks for checking on me though.” An awkward pause ensued before he finally added, “Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Yes,” said Twilight, a bit too quickly. Spike raised an eyebrow, but it was clear he wasn’t interested enough to ask any further as the alicorn lowered him back into his bed. As he settled in, Twilight couldn’t help but say, “I’m sorry I woke you up from a good dream, Spike. What was it about?”
Already drifting off, Spike managed to murmur, “Rarity and me. We were having lunch in Canterlot. There was a storm, and it started raining sapphires.” He grinned and curled up beneath his blankets. “Best dream ever. . .”
Twilight frowned heavily as she looked back toward the series of spells that held Octavia. Deciding to wait until she was sure Spike was asleep, Twilight spent the next several minutes deciding what she was going to say. While she still didn’t approve of Octavia’s actions, she also had to admit that the mare seemed to have been honest about them, and that they hadn’t done any apparent harm. 
Still feeling cautious, Twilight cast a few magic filters over herself as she walked up to the barrier. “Octavia?” she said tentatively, “I’m sorry I reacted that way. I’m. . . I’m still struggling with this whole idea, and I made a snap judgement.”
“Yes, you did,” came Octavia’s reply, although it didn’t come from within the spell. Twilight whipped around to find the other mare staring at her tersely. The alicorn’s horn lit reflexively, but Octavia remained still, prompting Twilight to gradually relax. When her horn finally faded, Octavia continued, “There are plenty of things that you might do to a being like me, Princess, and most of them I will gladly sit here and take. What you did was not one of them. I understand why you did it, and because of that I will let it slide, but never try to confine me like that again.” 
She held Twilight’s gaze imperiously for a moment before looking away with a sigh. “I should have expected that this would go less than smoothly. You may be the Princess of Friendship, but it wouldn’t be fair to consider myself your friend.” She gave the alicorn a slightly sad smile. “I’d like to change that, though. I think that I’m going to need your friendship in the days ahead.”
Twilight eyed her quizzically. “What makes you say that?”
“The same thing that convinced me to reveal myself,” Octavia replied. “You’re finally coming into your own as a Princess. You’ve gained a palace, and with that, it’s only a matter of time before you gain a royal guard. In a place like Canterlot, that’s hardly an issue for me, but in a town as small as Ponyville, there’s a far greater chance that, eventually, somepony will decide that something’s amiss with me. The chance is still small, but it’s greater than I’m willing to risk. At the same time, I adore Ponyville, and have no wish to uproot myself any time soon. So, after a great deal of thought, I decided that my best option was to reveal myself to you directly rather than chance you finding out from somepony else.”
Octavia paused, allowing her words to sink in. “Do you understand, Twilight? Do you understand how much I’m risking by telling you the truth?” She shook her head. “It would have been so much easier to simply get you alone and dazzle you to ensure that this would never be a problem. I’ve certainly had enough chances, and all of them have twisted my insides with guilt even considering, so here I am.” She looked back at the princess, and though her composure remained, it was showing more than a few cracks. “I’ve never had to trust another pony this much in my life, and believe me, it’s been a long one. I ask the same in return.” The gray mare shook slightly and stood a bit taller. Giving Twilight an even stare, she murmured. “Will I receive it?”
Twilight dipped her head, both to avoid Octavia’s eyes and to consider her next move. To trust an apparent vampire felt deeply, instinctively wrong. It would be like cuddling with a snake. Objectively, Twilight knew that the fear wasn’t necessarily rational, but knowing that did nothing to quell the feeling that she was in imminent danger.
At the same time, Twilight’s inner intellectual forced her to acknowledge that, in all the time that she’d lived in Ponyville, nopony had ever gone permanently missing, reported strange wounds on or around their necks, unexplained anaemia, or indeed anything that would seem to suggest a vampire on the loose. As for Octavia herself, while Twilight may not have known her well, every interaction she’d had with the mare had been nothing but pleasant. While reserved, she had a reputation around town of unflappable politeness and willingness to help. Additionally, Octavia’s roommate, Vinyl Scratch, had DJ’d for more parties and local events than Twilight could count, and, with a little translation from one friend or another, had told quite a few stories about Octavia which painted her as just another pony. A pony with a few more embarrassing tales about them than most, maybe, but still, just a pony.
Twilight looked back up to find Octavia still gazing at her squarely, and for a moment she considered how she would feel if it were her confessing such a secret. Unbidden, an image came to mind of her trying to tell her friends about it, and although it was just an idea, she still felt like crawling out of her skin. And here she is, telling you, Twilight thought, somepony she barely knows. Could you ever be this strong revealing a secret like this? Let alone to somepony you don’t even know if you can trust?
She opened her mouth hesitantly before murmuring, “I. . . I want to trust you, Octavia.”
Octavia’s frown grew a touch. “But?”
Twilight shook her head. “Right now, I can’t handle accepting all of this and trust you at the same time. I need to get my thoughts in order before I decide what to do next. That said,” she continued seriously, “I know this took a lot of courage on your part, and, if what you say is true, you chose this way instead of an easier one because you felt it was right. Thanks for that, by the way,” she added, forcing a grin. “Because of that, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, on one condition.”
Octavia’s ears perked slightly, but her face was otherwise unchanged. “Which would be?”
Twilight took a breath. “Look, I know that it was hard for you to let even one pony know about this, but I. . . I’m sorry, but until we get to know each other a bit better, I don’t know if I feel safe being the only one who knows. I have to tell somepony else, just in case. . .”
“Just in case I kill you?” finished Octavia.
“I. . . I didn’t say that!” exclaimed Twilight.
“No, but, on some level, you were thinking it, right?”
Twilight looked away in shame, pausing before giving a tiny, subdued nod. She was taken aback, then, when Octavia gave her an amiable grin and nodded back. “Very well. That’s a perfectly understandable condition.” 
Twilight blinked in surprise. “Really?”
    Octavia nodded again. “Of course. Frankly, I’d have found it strange if you hadn’t made such a term, and if I may, I have a particular pony whom I’d like to put forward, as she’s both one of your best friends and one of my donors.”
    “She’s. . . huh?” stammered the alicorn, trying to make several connections at once. “Who is. . . hang on, you donors? As in, ponies who let you drink their blood?”
    “Of course,” replied Octavia patiently. “As I said, I don’t feed on ponies who haven’t given me permission to, so donors felt like the most appropriate term. As to whom, I refer to none other than Pinkie Pie.”
Twilight’s eyebrow climbed so high that it was in danger of disappearing behind her bangs. “Pinkie Pie. . . Pinkie Pie knows your a vampire?”
“Oh, yes,” the gray mare responded. “She figured it out years ago. I’ve had centuries to practicing hiding what I am, but none of that time prepared me for Pinkie and her particular brand of magic.” She shrugged. “So, as I was coming home one night, she ambushed me with a net strung with garlic cloves.” The mare chuckled quietly. “Utterly useless, but she was convinced. After that, I had no choice but to explain everything, and, from either her naivete or that eerily sharp perception of hers, she decided that I was honest about not hurting other ponies. I managed to convince her not to throw an ‘Octavia’s a Vampire’ party, and she Pinkie promised not to tell anypony. Since then she’s barely even mentioned it.” She smiled a bit bigger. “She does make a point of slipping a bat or bite pun into most of our conversations, however.”
The princess’ eyebrow somehow managed to climb even higher. “And she lets you drink her blood?”
Octavia gave a sidelong nod. “On occasion. If she knows Vinyl will be gone for more than a few days, Pinkie will usually check to see if I need another donor until she comes back.” She shrugged. “I’m happy to tell you more, but I don’t want us to get too sidetracked. Will she do as your confidant?”
Twilight shook her head. “How would I know you haven’t dazzled her?”
“Oh, I have,” replied the vampire bluntly. “More than once, and always at her request. Feel free to ask her the next time you’re in private.”
    Twilight paused, caught off guard by the answer. “Okay. . . assuming I believe that, how could I trust that I’d be safe telling her if you can make her say or do whatever you want her to?”
“How do you know that I wouldn’t dazzle any other pony you might suggest?” retorted Octavia, albeit calmly. “ How do you know that I haven’t dazzled you? You have no way to be sure, do you? However, if I had, then this entire conversation would be a complete waste of time, and yet here we are, discussing it. Is that not worth at least a small measure of trust, even if it’s tentative?”
“I suppose,” said Twilight uneasily, though forced to admit that the other mare had a point.
The gray mare nodded. “That being the case, I ask that you trust that, when I say I haven’t tampered with Pinkie’s memory or free will, I am telling the truth. Is that reasonable?”
Twilight heaved a sigh. Much as she hated to admit it, Octavia argument was sound. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough that she couldn’t just dismiss it either. Even so, the worry of subterfuge wasn’t her only concern. “I mean. . . yeah, that does make sense, but. . . does it have to be Pinkie Pie?”
Octavia shrugged. “Not necessarily. I just thought she’d be the ideal candidate for both of us, all things considered.”
    Twilight bit her lip as she muttered “Er. . . I mean, I trust Pinkie, I do, but. . . she’s not really my first pick.”
    Octavia’s smile faded. “No. I imagine not. Your first pick would be Princess Celestia, wouldn’t it? You want her advice on how you should react to all this.” When Twilight nodded, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Twilight, but I can’t allow you to tell her, or Princess Luna, for that matter. Doing so would mean decades in hiding or death for me, and, at best, a lengthy interrogation for Vinyl, which I’m not willing to allow.”
“Are. . . What?” Thrown for yet another loop, Twilight took a deep breath, attempting to get her thoughts in order. “Octavia, I’m sure you’ve lived a lot longer than I have, but let me assure you that Princess Celestia-” 
“Princess Celestia hates my kind, Twilight,” Octavia interrupted sharply, “and her sister hates us even more. I’ve spent over a thousand years watching, and I in all that time I don’t believe that there’s been a positive interaction between an Equestrian princess and a vampire until tonight.”
Twilight shook her head uncomprehendingly, unable to reconcile the idea of Celestia with a thousand years of hate. “Why?”
Octavia screwed her eyes shut, grimacing as though she were in pain. “I had hoped to put this off until we’d gotten to know one another better, but here we are.” Her gaze sunk to the floor as she said, “I wish I could say that their hatred was unreasonable, but I can’t. My kind have earned every bit of it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Twilight, some of her earlier trepidation returning. “How could you possibly earn hatred like that?”
Silence stretched uncomfortably between them before Octavia finally took a breath, steeled herself, and forced her eyes to meet the alicorn’s. “By being terrible, terrible enemies, princess. By spying, sabotage, and murder. By wiping out platoons of Equestrian soldiers and by turning heros against their comrades and friends. That’s how we earned that hatred, Twilight, because that’s what King Sombra created us to do.”
“What?” whispered Twilight, once again flummoxed as memories of her encounter with the baleful spectre of the unicorn tyrant rose in her mind. “You were created by. . . King Sombra?”
Octavia said something in response, but Twilight couldn’t quite make it out. The newest revelation proved to be one too many. The world before her seemed to ripple, and darkness began gathering at the edges of her vision. Her mind whirled with all that she had just learned, mixing with the chaos of today and tomorrow’s monstrous to-do list in a disjointed jumble that felt as askew as her limbs. She tried to ask for a moment, but her tongue felt too heavy, and soon the rest of her body joined it.
The last thing that registered before everything went black was falling against something cold, but pleasantly soft.


	*    *    *


The sound of her name echoed through the haze of semi-consciousness that Twilight found herself floating in, along with a vague awareness encompassing warmth, and some distant thing pushing against her shoulder. “Twilight?” her name came again, slightly less distorted. “Come on, please wake up. It’s gonna be another busy day. You don’t wanna be late before it even starts, do you? Please.”
Twilight realized several things at once; the voice was none other than Spike, it had said she was late, and it sounded rather concerned. The revelation pushed her steadily upward, out of the clutching tendrils of sleep, until, with an owlish blink, she rose into the waking world.
The first thing to greet her eyes was the relieved face of her dragon companion. “Twilight! Finally. I was starting to get worried. You’re never that hard to wake up.”
“Spike?” she asked blearily, still not entirely free of the cobwebs of sleep. The mare grunted and her joints popped as she stretched, still trying to shake off the last cobwebs of sleep. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight thirty,” he answered. “I thought it was weird that you weren’t down for breakfast, so I came to check on you.” The hand on her shoulder gave her a sympathetic pat. “Yesterday must have really taken it out of you.”
At his words, hazy memories of the previous night came flooding back. Octavia had come to her. She’d been a vampire. A vampire made by King Sombra. 
The mare shook her head. Surely it had just been an odd dream, one brought on by the stress and fatigue of the previous day. Although, if it had been, wouldn’t have Princess Luna intervened? It had certainly been a vivid dream, if she was remembering it this well.
“Twilight?” once again broke the haze in her head, and she turned to see Spike looking at her with concerned eyes. “Are you okay? You still seem pretty spacey.”
Physically shaking herself, the alicorn clambered out of bed. “I’m fine, Spike. I just had some really strange dreams.” She smiled and placed a wing on her surrogate brother’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming to check on me. I’m sorry I worried you.” As he smiled back, she leaned in to briefly nuzzle him before guiding him around. “Now, come on. If we eat fast, we can still stay on schedule. I’ll be down in just a minute.” As he moved to leave, she added a playful, “As long as I don’t get lost again.”
Spike rolled his eyes, but it was clear she’d eased his concerns as he marched into the hallway.
Twilight turned toward her bathroom, resigned to a magical freshen up, when she noticed a small piece of parchment stuck in the door. Curious that Spike hadn’t noticed it, she levitated it over to herself and unrolled it. With each flowing line that she read, her trepidation grew.

Twilight,
I’m deeply sorry for last night. I should have swallowed my concerns and waited until things in Ponyville had calmed down somewhat, or at the very least, until you weren’t running yourself ragged. I didn’t mean to so overwhelm you, and hope that you at least passed out into a decent night’s sleep.
At the same time, I must assure you that last night was not a dream. I, Octavia, was really there. I really am a vampire. Everything that I told you is true. Ask Pinkie, or perhaps Zecora, as both of them know my true nature. 
I can only imagine how many questions and concerns you must have, and again, I apologize for inflicting so many upon you. I’d like to give you a full account of myself. It would hardly be fair of me to ask for your trust otherwise.
As I’m sure you know, Pinkie Pie is planning on throwing a “Ponyville’s All Fixed” party at your palace sometime within the next two weeks. She’s asked Vinyl to DJ, and I’ll be there as well. If you want to know more about me, I’ll happily stay afterward, and I’m sure Vinyl would be willing to do the same, in case you’d like some perspective from one of my donors. 
Finally, I understand that you most likely want to inform the other Princesses. I beg you not to. I won’t stop you, but to reiterate, if Celestia or Luna learn what I am and where, it will mean at least fifty years in hiding for me, and for Vinyl, an intrusive and lengthy interrogation at best, and potential imprisonment at worst. It’s been centuries since I harmed somepony by feeding on them, and Vinyl has done nothing but try to help a friend. We don’t deserve what they would give us, Twilight. Both of our lives are in your hooves.
All I ask is that you give me the chance to tell my side of the story, and, I hope, dispel some myths and superstitions along the way.
Whatever it be, I’ll be keeping an eye out for your answer. Perhaps Pinkie would be happy to deliver a message along with my invitation.
Hoping you slept well,

	Octavia Philharmonica 


Twilight read the letter several times, each one cementing another memory of the previous night. It hadn’t been a dream. She’d met a real, flesh and blood vampire, and then passed out in the presence of said vampire.
Twilight dropped the parchment and hurried into the bathroom, critically inspecting herself. When no blood or injuries were apparent, she let out a sigh, but her relief was short lived as she pondered what to do next. With the day’s schedule looming, she didn’t really have time to mull it over, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to focus without addressing it.
Lighting her horn, she set her comb and toothbrush to their usual tasks, giving the shower a longing glance before adding in a quick cleansing field. As she stepped through it, the question whirled in her mind. What am I going to do?
Reflexively, her horn lit again, and a fresh parchment and quill made their way into the bathroom. She finished up her impromptu washing, rinsed out her mouth, and began, “Dear Prin-”
Her quill hung frozen against the parchment for nearly a full minute as conflict raged in her head. She desperately wanted Celestia’s advice, but if what Octavia said was true. . . but how could it be true?
    “We don’t deserve what they would give us, Twilight. Both of our lives are in your hooves.” The alicorn found herself looking toward the spot she’d been when she learned that vampires were real. Unbidden, her eyes moved upward, settling on the bust where she’d placed her crown. She hadn’t worn it since her coronation.
    “You’re finally coming into your own as a Princess,” she echoed, resolve lighting in her eyes. “Maybe it’s time to make decisions like one.” Eyeing the note that Octavia had left, she lit her horn. The page instantly burst into flames as was ash in seconds. She then turned back to the parchment, neatly slicing off the header with a mental flick, and wrote,

Octavia,
I’ll see you at the party. Be ready for a long night of questions, and a lot of explaining, because if I can think of it, I’ll ask. Let Vinyl know that she should be ready for the same.
Thank you for trusting me, Octavia. I’ll try my best to do the same.
Cordially,

Princess Twilight Sparkle



   
> Of Trust and Tales
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight flinched as a party cracker went off just behind her, sprinkling her back with a dusting of ribbons and confetti. She turned to see her assailant, a slightly tottering Minuette, giggling mischievously and raising a hoof. “Sorry, Princess,” she slurred merrily, “I thought I was aiming more that way.” She shifted her hoof to the right, and in doing so nearly tipped over. Twilight managed to catch her with a wing and set her straight just in time.” 

“Just Twilight, please,” she reminded for what felt like the hundredth time that night, before adding, “and it’s okay, although you might wanna take it easy on the cider from now on.”

Minuette simply giggled more as she nodded. “Yeah, I guess I should probably call it a night. I haven’t partied this hard since I got my dentigree!” She began scanning palace’s main hall. “I just gotta thank Pinkie before I go. She really pulled out all the stops for this one!”

As if summoned, Pinkie abruptly appeared from behind a table the two stood next to. “You’re welcome!” she trilled, pulling the intoxicated unicorn into a crushing hug. “I’m just so super glad you could make it! Now come on! Let’s find somepony to help you walk home!”

Twilight sighed quietly as the overwhelmed pony was led away. She hadn’t been lying. Pinkie had well and truly outdone herself. The treats, the decorations, the entertainment, and indeed, the more adult indulgences that had come out later in the evening, had all been top notch. It had been going since two in the afternoon, and only now, well past midnight, had it finally begun to wind down. 

The greatest testament to the party’s quality was that it had actually managed to distract Twilight from what would come after. Between her friends and a constant stream of well-wishers, including a surprise visit from Celestia, she’d been able to truly relax and have fun for the first time since her return to Ponyville, and she hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed it. Now, however, as the night was coming to a close, her nerves had begun to return. 

Twilight sat down, swirling a glass of punch absentmindedly as her eyes sought out Octavia. In the thinning crowd, it took only a moment for her to locate the musician, who was chatting quietly with Mayor Mare. She stared exactly as long as one might deem normal, then for a few seconds longer, before wrenching her eyes back onto her glass. 

The last several days had been absolute torture. Uncertainty over whether or not she’d done the right thing had nearly made her write Celestia twice, and her tremendous curiosity hadn’t helped matters at all. Between the two, she’d actually been grateful for the gargantuan workload she’d taken on, as it had kept her too busy to spend much time in musing. Besides, she thought, my patience is finally about to pay off. Just a little while longer, and I’ll finally be able to ask Octavia all the-

“Good evening, Twilight,” broke her out of her reverie with a start, and she found herself face to face with the very pony she’d been contemplating. Octavia wore a gentle smile, and one eyebrow was raised as she nodded at the glass. “Looking for answers? I’ve heard some ponies like to do that, although I always thought that the glass in question was supposed to have alcohol in it.”

“Huh?” blurted the startled mare, not comprehending the joke at first. “O-Oh, no,” she stammered, blushing now. “I was just thinking about things.”

“Of course,” replied Octavia, her tone a few degrees more serious. “Lots to think about, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” was the wry reply. “Lots to think about.”

“I see. Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your thoughts for too long.” She winked. “I just wanted to come by and thank you for hosting such a marvelous party. I’m sure this one will go down in the records as one of the best. Incidentally, I was wondering if you’d like a hoof with the clean-up. Vinyl will be staying here for some time,” she nodded over her shoulder to the mare spinning records for a half full dance floor, “so I will be too, and I thought I might as well offer. It’s the least I can do.”

Twilight was immediately focused. Was this code? She hadn’t been expecting an actual procedure for the night, and wasn’t sure how best to respond. In the end, a simple, “Sure, if you’d like. I’m sure Pinkie would appreciate the help, and I know I would,” was all she could come up with.

Right or wrong, Octavia gave her a nod. “I’d love to. As I said, it’s the least I can do.” Her grin grew slightly and she tossed the alicorn a wink. “I’ll let you get back to those thoughts.” She turned without another word and began making her way toward one of the few remaining knots of ponies.

The remainder of the party went by like winter molasses. Even the spectacle of a salt-licking contest between Applejack and Rainbow Dash, and the subsequent commotion, offered only a short respite from the crushing anticipation that now filled the evening. Twilight found herself swirling her punch almost compulsively, as if that would somehow speed time along and bring and end to her nerves. Inevitably, however, the party did draw to its close. Eventually Big Macintosh trundled out, his semiconscious sister on his back, leaving only Pinkie Pie, an utterly blitzed Rainbow Dash, Vinyl Scratch, and Octavia.

The party mare approached Twilight, somehow managing to keep the stumbling Rainbow upright and keeping pace. “I think Rainbow might’ve had teeeeensy tiny bit too much,” giggled Pinkie, “so I’m gonna let her stay at my place. I’ll be right back to help you clean up.”

“I resemnent. . . attempted Rainbow, “I mean I *hck* resme. . . Did not!” Both mares ignored her, which she didn’t seem to notice.

“There’s no need for that, Pinkie,” replied Twilight, knowing that she was currently talking to a brick wall. “You put all this together. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to clean it up. As for Rainbow, why not just let her stay here? There are plenty of bedrooms in this place.”

“Because if I lose her here, I’ll never find her, silly!” Pinkie said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, I like the clean up! Taking it all down is almost as much fun as putting it all up!”

Twilight nodded, unsurprised. “Alright. If you really wanna come back once you’ve taken care of Rainbow, then definitely. If not, it’s fine. Octavia and Vinyl said they’d help me.”

Pinkie shot a look at the two mares currently disassembling the DJ’s imposing sound system. When she looked back, she had a sly glint in her eyes. “Are you sure? I hear Octavia can get a little batty when it gets late.”

Twilight blinked. Despite the rampant curiosity, she’d still been hesitant to talk to Pinkie about what she’d learned, due mostly to the fact that she’d had no idea how to broach the topic, and little time to come up with one. Thus, she didn’t know if Pinkie knew she knew, or merely suspected. Fumbling for an appropriate response, she managed to say, “Er, well, she’s usually pretty calm, and most ponies only grow fangs when they’re grumpy. We should be fine.”

The party pony’s grin grew massive, and she managed to give Twilight a quick half hug before turning tail and marching their drunken compatriot toward the door. “Oki doki loki, Twilight. Have fun!”

“I wanna have fun!” whined the teetering pegasus as they made their way out.

Shaking her head, Twilight turned to find the DJ booth completely broken down, the two mares now quickly sorting each piece of equipment into its proper case. Not knowing what else to do, Twilight lit her horn, gathering a cloud of paper plates, used napkins, and plastic cups into a bag. Between the three of them, they managed to restore the hall back to its former glory in short order.

Twilight exhaled, trying to think of anything they might’ve missed before turning to her guests and saying, “So. . .”

“So. . .” echoed Octavia. “Where would you like to do this, Twilight? Would you like to sit down? As you hinted, this could be a long night.”

Twilight exhaled again, this time a bit heavier. This was finally happening, and her nerves had only gotten worse. “Er, yes, I would. Follow me. There’s study on the next floor that’d be perfect.”

Octavia and Vinyl fell wordlessly into step behind her as the princess led them up the nearest staircase and through a short hallway to a study she’d happened upon earlier that week. It had several comfortable seats, a table that would perfectly fit the three of them, and, most importantly, a window within easy leaping distance of said table. Just in case, she told 
herself.

As they walked, Twilight began to cast a suite of spells designed to protect her from physical harm and magical influence. It worried her that she didn’t really know what kind of power she was trying to counter, but hoped to overcome her lacking knowledge by sheer volume. 

If Octavia was concerned or offended by the gesture, she didn’t say anything. 

Finally they reached the room, Twilight holding the door and lighting a few candles and lanterns with a quick spell while her guests filed in. A brief silence passed as the trio took their seats, one broken when Octavia repeated, “So. . . Where would you like to begin?”

Twilight’s horn flickered, and a quill and fresh roll of parchment appeared on the table with a snap. “Well, since it seems the most relevant, who are your ‘donors’, and how much do you take from them when you feed?”

Octavia nodded neutrally. “Very well. As you could probably guess, my main donor is Vinyl here.” She nodded to the mare, who pushed down her perpetual shades to give Twilight a wink. “When she’s out of town for one of her longer gigs, my go to donor is Golden Harvest, as she actually quite enjoys it. Occasionally Zecora and I will make a trade, a little of my blood to use in her potions in exchange for a little of hers. Pinkie volunteers if she knows I’ll be without Vinyl for an extended period, though I rarely need to use her. Finally, Bulk Biceps has helped me once or twice, though I try to leave him alone except in desperate situations, as it makes him very uncomfortable.”

Twilight scribbled furiously as she asked, “Why wouldn’t you make Golden Harvest you primary donor if she enjoys it?”
Octavia sighed. “Because she finds it sexually pleasing and I’m not attracted to her in that way, and because I don’t trust her as much as I trust Vinyl.”

Not having an answer for that, Twilight just blushed and continued writing. “Huh.”

“As for how much I drink, usually three mouthfuls of blood every five to seven days. Up to five if I’ve gone without or else am celebrating. Three mouthfuls is a pretty lean meal for a vampire, but it’s enough to keep me healthy.” She smiled. “Perk of being an old vampire.”

Twilight’s quill danced across the scroll again as she asked. “I see. Is there a risk of creating more vampires that way, or at least transmitting disease?”

Octavia shook her head. “Contrary to some myths, vampirism doesn’t spread through a bite. A vampire’s blood needs to be introduced to the bloodstream of a dying or freshly dead pony in order to begin the transformation. As for disease, it’s a risk, but no more than not washing a scrape, or being around a sick friend, and I’m extremely careful when it comes to feeding. It’s one more reason that I keep my pool of donors small.”

The princess nodded, turning her eyes to Vinyl. “What’s it like, being a donor? 

Vinyl gave her a massive shrug before lighting her horn and taking hold of the quill and parchment, much to Twilight’s disapproval. “I don’t know,” she wrote. “It’s not like it’s some some huge part of my life. It’s more like part of our routine. Every few days, Octy bites me, drinks a little blood, it heals over, and we go back to doing our thing. Sure, it was pretty scary the first couple times, but I trust her. I knew she wasn’t gonna hurt me then, and we’ve done it so much now that it’s not a big deal anymore.”

Twilight tilted her head ruefully, wondering how long she’d need to adjust to something like that, before turning back to Octavia. “How does the blood cause the transformation?”

The vampire shook her head. “That I don’t know, Twilight. The magic involved is completely beyond me, even now.”

Twilight gave the mare a disappointed nod. “Alright. What about once the transformation is complete? What are its effects? What are the abilities of a vampire? You showed me your strength and speed. Are there any more?”

“Certainly,” the mare answered. “In addition to increased strength and speed, our senses are all greatly enhanced, we can recover from most injuries very quickly, and, as we briefly discussed last time, we can dazzle other beings to temporarily bend them to our will. Again, as you saw, we can also take on a more alluring appearance, particularly when the thirst is strong.” Pausing to let Twilight catch up, she continued, “In addition, each of the three tribes have vampiric gifts unique to them. Earth ponies have their strength and speed increased even further, as well as becoming very difficult to injure by conventional means. Pegasi gain more influence over creating and manipulating storms, and can turn themselves into mist. Unicorns have their magical power massively augmented, provided they’re well fed, and can become one with shadows and darkness. Finally, and most abstractly, we can do a number of things with our blood, though the gifts aren’t consistent between individual vampires, and we’d probably be here all night discussing nothing else if I went over all of those.”

Twilight paused to go over the notes she’d taken so far before continuing. “What about thestrals?”

The mare again shook her head. “To my knowledge, there has never been a thestral vampire. I couldn’t even speculate on what their additional powers would be. On that same note, only ponies can become vampires. Except in very small quantities, our blood is fatal when introduced to the bloodstream of any other creature.”

Twilight frowned hard as she made the note. “I see. Do you think that was by design?”

Octavia was silent for a moment. “I’m not sure. I know that King Sombra planned to rule over all races. It would make sense for him to have vampires of every race, due to our skill at infiltration. As far as I understand, vampires were a relatively new creation of his when the sisters banished him, so perhaps he hadn’t found a way to spread the curse farther. Then again, he was also paranoid. He may have feared that some other race would find a way to turn vampires against him.”

Twilight nodded, chewing on her next question nervously. She hadn’t been sure how to approach this line, but, now that they were there, she supposed she might as well just go for it. “You, um. . . if you were created by King Sombra, does that mean that you’re a crystal pony?”

The gray mare hummed. “I suppose. The differences are so superficial, and I’ve spent so much time hiding it, that I don’t really think of myself as one anymore.”

“Okay,” said Twilight with a sidelong nod. “How old are you then?”

“Do you mean how many years I’ve existed, or how old I was when I was turned?”

“Er. . . both, I guess.”

Again, Octavia nodded. “I was born one thousand forty-three years ago, less than a decade before Sombra’s rise to power. I was turned when I was nineteen.

“Nineteen,” the princess whispered, before shaking herself. “That’s younger than I expected. I take it vampirism keeps you from aging?”

Vinyl face-hoofed, and Octavia raised an amused eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Twilight blushed. “R-Right. So, what were you before you were turned? Were you as musically inclined back then as you are now?”

Octavia’s smile disappeared, and she looked down somberly. After a long silence she murmured, “I’ve always loved music. It’s always been a part of me. In those days, it was one of the only things that kept me going, but I could usually only play it in my head. There were only one or two of Sombra’s guards that cared about my music.”

Twilight’s eyebrows knit together, and a knot began to form in her stomach. “I’m sorry?”

The vampire blinked and looked back up. “No, I’m sorry Twilight. I lost myself for a moment there. It’s been a long time since I thought about any of this.” She cleared her throat. “To answer your question, I did love music, but it wasn’t what I did. I was a pleasure mare for Sombra’s soldiers.”

Twilight swallowed. “Ah. So. . . a prostitute, right?”

Octavia shrugged wryly. “Prostitutes get paid, but otherwise, yes.”

Twilight exhaled hard, casting her eyes down. “I’m so sorry. I. . . I shouldn’t have asked.”

A cold hoof reached across the table to press gently against hers. “It’s fine, Twilight. Really. The scars will always be there, but they’ve had a long time to heal. I promise.”

Twilight’s eyes slowly rose to find Octavia giving her a gentle, encouraging smile. Still feeling a bit guilty, the alicorn nodded. “Alright. As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m more worried about you, to be honest,” Octavia replied. “I was originally planning to show you how I was turned, but I’m less sure now. It might be too much for you.”

“What do you mean too much?” asked Twilight, before a bigger question forced itself from her lips. “Wait, show me? What do you mean, show me?”

“Exactly that,” answered Octavia, unperturbed. “I wanted to show you my turning, and my turning wasn’t gentle. King Sombra made me a vampire because I survived a beating that was meant to kill me, and he thought I deserved a reward. To witness that beating is not for the faint of heart.” She leaned in soberly. “I apologize if I chose my words poorly, Twilight, so let me make this clear; I am not going to attempt to turn you, or anypony, into a vampire, ever.” She held the purple mare’s gaze for a moment before pulling away. “I’m sorry if I implied otherwise.”

Twilight digested what she’d heard for a moment. “Alright. May I ask how you were planning on showing me?”

“Of course.” Twilight involuntarily scooted back as a pair of fangs emerged from the mare’s lips, and scooted further still as she ran the top of her hoof over one of them. A bead of blood formed over the wound, and she gestured toward Twilight with it. “One of the more common traits of the blood is that, if consumed by another pony, it creates a brief mental link between drinker and vampire. I was going to use that link to show you how it happened.”

Twilight looked between the mare and the hoof incredulously. “You. . . You thought I’d just be okay with drinking your blood? Seriously?”

“Only a drop.”

“It’s your blood! That’s gross!”

“As if you haven’t had to try far worse things in alchemy class.”

“Not that I had to swallow! Besides, that was for my learning.”

“And this isn’t?” Octavia raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t going to show you this memory because I think it’s ‘cool’, Twilight. It’s brutal. However, you said be prepared to answer questions, and I can’t think of a more thorough way of answering the question of my turning than for you to witness it yourself. Perhaps, with your knowledge of magic, you might even glean some insight from watching King Sombra that I can’t.” She lowered her hoof. “You’re right, however, that I shouldn’t have simply sprung the idea on you, and I’m not going to push you any farther. If you’d prefer, I can just tell you how it happened. The choice is yours.”

Twilight licked her lips nervously, her eyes drifting to the bloodied hoof on the table. To her surprise, she was actually considering it. On the one hoof, yeah, it was drinking vampire blood. It just sounded outright nasty, and she had no way of knowing if Octavia was being honest about its effects. On the other, it would have been easy for the mare to simply sneak some into her food or punch if she’d had some secret motive, and the idea of getting to safely observe the turning of a pony into a vampire was immensely tempting, if also a bit scary. “You’re absolutely positive that it won’t do anything besides link us telepathically?”

Octavia nodded. “Absolutely positive. Are you absolutely positive that you can handle watching a pony be violently killed?”

Twilight swallowed, remembering the things she’d witnessed during the changeling attack. This can’t be much worse, can it? Eventually, she nodded. 

Octavia narrowed her eyes. “Are you absolutely positive, Twilight?”

The alicorn took a steadying breath. “Yes. I’m absolutely positive.”

Octavia scrutinized her for another moment or two before nodding. “Very well.” She again extended the hoof toward Twilight. Curiously, the blood hadn’t dried. 

Twilight’s horn glowed, her aura forming around the bead of blood and floating it toward her. Not wanting to give herself time to think about it, she quickly sucked it into her mouth and swallowed, doing her best to keep it off her tongue as she did. It was noticeably cold as it made its way down her throat, leaving a sensation oddly like mint. Once it had dissipated, she turned to Octavia. “Now what?”

“Now we wait,” replied the other mare. “It won’t take long.” She turned to the unicorn, who’d been idly doodling on the piece of parchment she’d taken from Twilight. “You can probably head home, Vinyl. I doubt Twilight will have more questions for you, at least for tonight.”

The DJ tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure. Go get some rest. I’ll bring your stuff home.”

Vinyl looked between the two of them a couple times before nodding and making her way out of the room. As she went, her horn blinked, and Octavia jumped slightly before throwing her a dirty look. Now wearing a million bit grin, the unicorn quickly averted her eyes, gave Twilight a nod, and trotted out.

When the princess gave Octavia a quizzical look, the gray mare grinned wryly. “She’s wise to my tricks. She knows she can get away with pinching my rear as long as she doesn’t look me in the eye.” She shook her head. “In any case, try to empty your mind. The blood should be starting to take effect, and I’m going to test it.”

With not small amount of effort, Twilight did her best to clear her thoughts. It was hard, given the situation she was in, but after a few moments she did manage to find a relative calm. As she did, though, a nagging whisper of thought began to make itself known, feeling almost like an echo as it became, Is it working? Can you hear me, Twilight?

“I. . . I think so,” she said. “Is that you?”

It is. Now, do your best to think of nothing. Close your eyes, empty your thoughts, and let me guide you.

Twilight did as requested, and there was an odd, surreal feeling of floating as the world around her began to change.


***


As her vision wavered into focus, Twilight realized that she was standing on a street opening into a large plaza. At the far end was a thirty foot wall of pitch black crystal, and in the middle, an imposing statue of a rearing pony. It was difficult to make out in the gloom of night, but she was somehow certain that it was a statue of King Sombra.

The sound of cantering hooves broke her from her observations. From the darkness down the road, a mare took shape, sprinting as fast as Twilight had ever seen a pony sprint. As she got closer, Twilight realized that she was looking at a crystal facsimile of Octavia, with a dusky quartz body, a mane of jet, and abject panic in her eyes. The torn remains of a frilly skirt fluttered frantically behind her, and as she blazed past them, a splash of sparkling red showed that at least one of her hooves was bleeding profusely. Still, whatever injury she had certainly wasn’t slowing her down. The mare went screaming into the plaza, panting raggedly but not slowing as she bolted toward the mighty gates.

As she approached, a disturbance caught Twilight’s eye. In the spot between the mare and the wall, a shadow had appeared with nothing to cast it, and as she looked on, the patch of darkness rose up, materializing into the form of King Sombra. He was exactly as Twilight remembered him, with a single exception; one of his fangs was missing, with only a trail of blood down his chin giving any clue as to what might have happened.

Upon seeing the King, the mare let out a choked cry and actually managed to speed up. Sombra’s response was merely to tilt his head. There was a crunch of stone on stone, and with another cry the mare tripped, tumbling forward to come to a sprawled stop at the unicorn’s hooves. 

A long moment passed in relative stillness, the only movement coming from the mare’s panting shivers and the king’s fiery mane. For his part, Sombra seemed neither pleased nor upset, his expression neutral as he gazed down at the trembling mare. Eventually, his horn hissed, and something appeared by his head before pattering to the ground next to Octavia. The world abruptly shifted, and Twilight found herself right next to the pair, staring down at the thing that Sombra had dropped. She and the mare seemed to realize that it was Sombra’s missing fang at the same instant.

The crystal Octavia’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks as they drifted between the broken tooth and the injury on her hoof. She began to hyperventilate as her eyes drifted inexorably up to meet Sombra’s. Her mouth opened, but all that emerged were stunted squeaks, the weight of a thousand desperate apologies pinning her tongue flat.

This seemed to amuse the king, for he finally grinned before crooning, “Impressive. Especially for a pleasure mare.” His horn again bubbled to life, lifting her easily to her hooves, where he began to inspect her carefully. As his eyes settled on her injured hoof, he took it in his own and delicately raised it for a better look. He spent particular time scrutinizing the wound, his smile widening a few degrees as he said. “You moved quickly for one so injured.” Another hiss of his horn saw the gash close, and a new fang sprouted forth to replace the old one. “I would not have expected this. You’ve surprised me. Thank you.”

The faintest spark of hope appeared the the mare’s eyes before his rose to meet them. “However, you did make King Sombra bleed.”

There was barely time for Octavia’s face to fall before she was torn off her hooves and sent flying into the base of the statue, where she collided with a sickening crunch. No sooner had she slid to the ground than she was tossed into the air, a wet snap or two accompanying her landing. 

The king kept at her for most of a minute, tossing the helpless mare about like a toy. Each impact was accompanied by a fresh snapping sound, something which quickly overtook the mare’s screams as she lost the ability to make them.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Sombra’s expression never shifted beyond mild, detached amusement.

At last the assault ended, leaving the tattered ruin of the mare’s body crumpled at Sombra’s hooves. She was twisted, torn, and wracked with helpless spasms, but somehow still breathing in short, choking breaths. Sombra paused, his eyes narrowing only to go wide, a whispered, “What?” escaping from his lips. His horn flared a final time, and a crystalline spike abruptly punched up through the mare’s throat, stilling her shivers at last.

For a long time, Sombra stood over the mare’s corpse, so still that, but for his mane, he might well have been a statue himself. Eventually his horn hissed to life, and the spike disappeared in a gout of blood. He brought a hoof to his lips, the armor melting away as he opened his mouth and bit down. More blood erupted from the wound, and he placed the hoof on her torn neck, allowing his blood to mix with that in the ragged tear. Another hiss of dark magic, and the pooling blood darkened momentarily to black before returning to normal. With that he stepped back, his wound boiling away under a coat of magic, and waited.

Slowly, subtly, the mare’s body began to twitch. Tremors started in her chest and began making their way down her ruined limbs, and an almost silent gasp slipped through her lips, creating a wet hiss as it passed through the hole in her throat. She blinked, her eyes wide and uncomprehending as they locked onto the tyrant standing over her. Her lips moved, but only a gurgle would come out. Nevertheless, Sombra seemed to understand. “No. Make no mistake, my dear, you died, but by my grace, death is not the end for you. I'll not commit such a waste.”

She gurgled again, her eyes like those of a child in a nightmare.

“You surprised me twice,” he answered, his voice almost tender. “You survived what you should not have. Such perseverance deserves a reward.”

he mare opened her mouth and raised a shaking hoof, only to freeze, transfixed as a protruding bone trembled and slipped beneath her skin with a pop. She immediately grimaced, attempting to roll to her side, only to be pushed back down by an iron shod hoof. She began to writhe like a fish, gurgling frantically as another pop followed the first, then another, then a crack, and then an odd squelching as the flesh of her neck began to knit itself back together.

No sooner had her throat repaired itself than an agonized scream ripped through the plaza, rising in volume and pitch until it became inaudible. The mare’s back arched, her body seizing helplessly against the hoof holding her down. Sombra simply grinned, smiling as one might at a confused child, and cooed, “No, my dear. This isn't the end. Instead, with the gift of my blood, it is a new beginning. It is an opportunity that precious few receive; a chance to transcend the emptiness of your existence.” 

As he spoke, the old Octavia’s eyes rolled back in her head, her face a portrait of pure agony, but Sombra spoke on regardless. It wasn’t clear whether he was talking to her or to himself. “From reeking bedchambers you will rise to lie at my right hoof. From absolute submission, you will rise to dominate my enemies. From frail, impotent mortality, you will rise into ageless strength and incredible power, and under my vision, you will use it to spread my influence unto the farthest corners of the world.”

Beneath him, the mare gave a final shudder and went limp. Her coat began to darken, losing its crystalline twinkle and fading into dusky grey-brown. Her breath came in weak gasps, slipping quietly past a pair of new fangs, and her eyes, glinting slightly, were nearly closed, looking skyward but seeing nothing. 

Seemingly satisfied, King Sombra finally removed his hoof, his cruel smirk belying his gentle tone as he asked, “What is your name, my child?”

The mare didn’t move, her eyes riveted on the cold light of the stars, but the response was immediate. “Ch-Chamber Chord, your Majesty.”

“Chamber Chord,” he repeated. “From now on, you will not refer to me as Majesty, Grace, or King, but Master. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master,” she replied promptly.

“Very good, Chamber Chord. Now sleep.”

The world around Twilight began fading to black as she heard the King’s cold murmur, “Your life in death awaits you when you wake.”



***


Twilight stirred, letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as she opened her eyes. Octavia stared back at her, her face pensive as she waited for the princess to absorb what she’d just seen.

For her part, Twilight didn’t seem to know how to react. What she’d witnessed had been deeply upsetting on almost every level, but the rational side of her screamed its assurances that is was a travesty long since past, and that nothing could be done to fix it now. Even so, she couldn’t help but shed a pair of tears as she gazed at the mare across from her, the mare who had suffered through the ordeal for real. “I’m sorry, Octavia. I’m. . . I’m so sorry something like that happened to you.”

A cold, smooth hoof slid across the table to grasp hers firmly. “Don’t be, Twilight. Not one bit. You wouldn’t even be born for another thousand years. There’s absolutely no reason for you to be sorry.”

Twilight nodded, fanning herself with a hoof as she tried to reign the tears in. “I know, I just. . .” She laughed humorlessly. “You did try to warn me. I guess I should’ve listened. That was horrible.”

Octavia tightened her grip. “Hindsight is always perfect, Twilight. It’s done. It does no good to regret it now. Besides, if it doesn’t stop bothering you, and if you’re willing, I can always make you forget.” She tapped spot beneath her eye meaningfully.

The princess stammered, briefly distracted from her sadness. “Er, let me get back to you on that.”

The gray mare shrugged. “If you need cheering up, I could always make Pinkie think her tail is gone. She’s always up for acting the fool.”

Twilight chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” A comfortable silence stretched briefly between the two before Twilight took a deep breath and asked. “Do you. . . remember dying?”

Octavia shook her head. “No. The blow that killed me was just a pinch in a sea of agony, and then an all new one when I woke up. Sombra’s blood helped me piece together what you just saw.”

Twilight hummed, jotting down the first notes she’d written for several minutes. After another pause, she asked, “So, you were obviously in pain when you woke up. Was that from the damage he’d done, or was it a side effect of the healing?”

Again, the other mare shook her head. “Neither. As painful as the beating was, it was nothing compared to the change. It felt as though my entire body was cold-burning from the inside out. I’ve suffered both terrible injuries and the effects of some absolutely sadistic spells, but nothing has ever come close to the agony of my turning.”

Twilight shuddered as she wrote. “I see. I’m sorry to hear that. Erm, would you say that that was typical for being turned?”

“Yes,” Octavia affirmed. “Becoming a vampire is not a gentle change. If you ever happen to meet another, I’m sure they would tell you the same.”

Twilight shook her head, resolving to change the subject. “Hm. Um. . . Oh! So, you’ve mentioned other vampires a few times. Have you known many? Were you by chance the first?”

Octavia let out a thoughtful hum. “Not many, but then there haven’t really been many. I wasn’t the first. In fact, I’m actually the last of the vampires created by Sombra. That’s not to say that there were no others after me, but none descended directly from the king.”

Exceedingly pleased with the new topic, Twilight began a new section of notes. “Interesting. How many of you did Sombra turn?”

“Including myself, ten. Three unicorns, six pegasi, and a single earth pony.”

The purple mare’s face scrunched up. “Really? You were the only earth pony? Why’s that?”

Octavia shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure. He may have never intended to turn an earth pony, but changed his mind after I survived his punishment. Perhaps he wasn’t sure what the effects on an earth pony would be, and decided I was a suitable candidate. Ultimately, I decided that it didn’t matter.”

Twilight gave her a sideways nod. “I guess that’s fair. Can you remember the others very well?”

The gray mare chuckled. “Of course I can. When we weren’t performing a task for the king, we lived together in one of the Crystal Fortress. Apart from the poor souls condemned to feed us, we had very few visitors. Getting to know one another was unavoidable.” 

Twilight hummed curiously. “Was that a good thing?”

Octavia chuckled again, albeit less happily. “For some.”

“Would you be willing to tell me about them?”

The vampire nodded. “I would. Would you be interested in meeting them?”

Twilight’s eyes widened in both surprise and incredulity. “Um. . . I guess it would depend on how.”

“The same way you saw me becoming a vampire, Twilight,” she answered. “Assuming I haven’t put you off sharing my past, of course. If so, I completely understand. If not, then I could show you what followed; my awakening, my first experience with the thirst, and my first meeting with the ponies who shared my fate.”

Twilight bit her lips, considering the proposition for several moments. “I don’t know. . Is it as brutal as the last one?” 

Octavia’s gaze was gentle as she shook her head. “As brutal? No. However, you should know that I killed the first pony that I fed upon.” For a brief second, her expression hardened. “Make no mistake, he deserved it, but even so, I did kill him.” She looked away, her eyes inscrutable. “That experience affected me deeply, Twilight. I don’t know if I can separate it from the rest of the memory, but I’m certainly willing to try.”

Twilight was silent, her head tilting toward the table with a troubled frown. It was a long time before she finally murmured, “I’ll have to think about it. It sounds fascinating, and I’d love the chance to ‘meet’ all of the original vampires, but. . . I don’t know if I’m ready to see another pony die, even if they deserve it.”

Octavia nodded kindly, once again reaching over to give Twilight’s hoof a squeeze. “I understand. Take as much time as you need, Twilight, and whatever you choose will be perfectly fine.”

Twilight nodded gratefully, returning the squeeze. “How should I let you know?”

Octavia shrugged. “If you decide within the next day or so, you can simply direct the thought at me, and I’ll hear it. If not, then it’s up to you. Feel free to contact me in whatever way best suits. . .” she began to trail off, her ears suddenly swiveling around, “you.”

Twilight furrowed her brow, as she began looking around. “What? Is something wrong?”

Octavia huffed. “Not wrong, per se, but we may have to cut this evening short.”

Twilight’s muzzle scrunched in confusion. “Why?”

Octavia nodded in the general direction of the front of the palace. “Because, if the drunken singing is anything to go by, then it seems Rainbow Dash must’ve given Pinkie Pie the slip, and managed to find her way back here. It sounds like she’s currently stumbling her way to the front door.

Twilight heard nothing, but given what she’d learned, knew that didn’t mean much. “Are you sure?”

The grey mare nodded. “Positive.”

“But I had so many more questions!” Twilight protested, holding up a sizeable length of her notes that ended in question marks. “Can’t you dazzle her to not notice you when she gets here, or something like that?”

Octavia deadpanned. “Did you just ask me to vampirically hypnotize your drunk friend?”

Twilight deflated before her answer could escape her lips. “Er. . . well, when you put it like that. . .”

The musician smiled mischievously. “Amusing as it might be, no. We’ll simply have to continue this another night, Twilight. Don’t worry.” She threw the princess a wink. “Neither me nor my answers are going anywhere. I’d never be so cruel as to inflict a miserable Vinyl on Ponyville.” 

Twilight snorted as she rose from her chair. “Well that’s generous of you. . . I think?”

Octavia rose as well, her face adorned with her trademark small grin. “You’ve no idea.” Making her way around the table, the smile grew more serious as she placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Thank you for trusting me, Twilight. There are no words for how much that means.”

Twilight felt a blush rising in her cheeks, and, despite a tingle of trepidation, moved in to give the gray mare a brief nuzzle. “It’s nothing,” she cooed. “After all, what are friends for?”

As she pulled away, she was met with the sight of Octavia beaming wider than she’d expected the reserved mare could, and even the gleaming fangs didn’t take away from the incandescent happiness shining on her face. Slowly, very slowly, she closed her lips, her smile still massive as she gave the princess a small bow. “Good night, Twilight,” she said happily. “Now, go help your friend before she decides that flying in her state is a good idea.” With those final words, the mare vanished with a whoosh.

Twilight lingered for a brief moment, reflecting upon all that she’s just learned, before realizing that Octavia had probably had a point. Lighting her horn, the room around her vanished in a blaze of light before shifting immediately into the main hall. No sooner had she started for the doors than one of them was flung open, the bang followed by the tactless yelling of a certain pegasus. 

“Twi?” hollered Rainbow Dash as she stumble-shuffled in. “Y’wake, Twi? Helloooo-*hck*-oooo! Twiiiiliiiiiight?!” She continued shouting a full two seconds after her eyes had settled on the alicorn. “Oh! Hey *hck*, Twilight! Sup?”

“Not much, Rainbow Dash,” the princess deadpanned, her mood struggling between irritation and amusement. “What about you? Where’s Pinkie?”

Rainbow clumsily waved a vague hoof. “Oh, y’know. She’s *hck* around here somewhere. I challenged her to *hck* to race to my place n’ back three ti-*hck* times. Then. . .” The mare paused, clearly thinking very hard. “Then *hck* I got turned around, but then I found the palace!” A moment of silence passed between them as Twilight looked on, waiting for the her friend to continue. Eventually, “C’n I like *hck*, crash on the couch or something?”

Amusement won out. “Yes, Rainbow, you can crash on the couch.” Twilight smiled, lighting her horn and hoisting the bewildered pegasus into the air. “Come on. Let’s go find a ‘couch’ for you.”

Rainbow’s slurs became snores within moments, and Twilight chuckled as she carried the fubared flier up the stairs and tucked her into a guest bed. Deciding she’d keep an eye on Rainbow for a bit, she pulled up a chair and sat, letting her thoughts turn to all that had happened in the last couple hours. 

As many questions as she still had, she’d still learned a great deal. Perhaps more importantly, having learned a bit more about Octavia's story, Twilight found the thought of a vampire living in Ponyville a great deal less scary than before. Unbidden, the memories of her first encounter with Zecora rose in her mind. She thought that she’d learned about not judging a book by its cover, but now, in hindsight, perhaps that was only the beginning. 

On an impulse, her horn blinked, and a fresh quill and square of parchment appeared. Checking that she hadn’t woken her guest, Twilight considered her words for a minute or two before setting ink to page, murmuring quietly as she wrote.

“Dear Princess Celestia,”
> The First Lesson
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia let out a content sigh, her eyes contemplative as she absentmindedly buttered a scone. Her windows of personal time were short, and she did her utmost to enjoy them. Canterlot had been absolutely buzzing with activity over the past few months, what with the incursion from Tirek, the appearance of the Palace of Friendship, and her former student’s recent encounter with the equality extremist, Starlight Glimmer. Her correspondence drawer was almost overflowing, extending spell and all. Sun, she’d already responded to half a dozen high priority missives that very morning, and thus it had been no small relief when she’d finally managed to escape to her morning tea.

The alicon snorted away her lingering tension and smiled before opening her mouth. The scone was just passing her lips when, with a puff of smoke, a scroll materialized above her and fell, bouncing off of her nose before coming to rest in a bowl of oatmeal. She had nearly let out the groan before remembering that there was only one correspondent that sent letters by fire. With a giggle at her foolishness, Celestia levitated the letter up, her face once again graced by a smile. Although their letters to each other had become somewhat more dry since Twilight’s ascension, Celestia still loved hearing from her former protege, even if it was only to beg for advice. 

“Here’s hoping it’s not too serious,” she murmured to nopony in particular before unrolling the scroll and beginning to read.

Princess Celestia Sol Aurumque 
Don’t worry. Despite the official title, I promise that this letter is far from official. I’m sure I’ll have something later today, but for now, I thought I’d send my latest friendship report. I know, I’m not technically your student anymore, but I remember how fondly you talk about them, so I thought you might not mind if I shared the odd lesson with you. After all, you always taught me that to master some are of study is to understand that there will always be more to learn. With that in mind, I plan on being a lifelong student of friendship, and I’ve found that the letters I used to send helped my to focus on the most important parts of the lesson they contained. It’s also a good excuse to keep a more casual correspondence going. So, without further ado,
Dear Princess Celestia,
Today I learned something that I thought I already knew, and in doing so, learned something further: you can’t judge somepony by how they appear. I thought I’d learned that when I met Zecora, but now I see that I only had a basic understanding of the lesson. Some ponies might seem dangerous. On the surface, some might even seem to be monsters. However, once you go deeper, you might find that the monster you ran from is just as kind and reasonable as the next pony. 
I know I already said it, but “The more you learn, the less you know” once again proved itself to be true, cliche as it might be. If anything, it has me re-examining how I assess those that I meet, and whether or not I’m being more cautious or pessimistic than I really should be. I’m not sure where my standards will land, but I can’t wait to find out!
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I really appreciate having somepony like you to let me sound my thoughts. I hope that you and Luna are doing wonderfully, and look forward to seeing you the next time we can.

	Yours in friendship, Twilight Sparkle


Celestia blinked as she read the final line. That was. . . not what she’d expected, not least because she too had thought that Twilight had long ago learned not to judge a book by it’s cover. Her time in Ponyville had turned her into one of the most accepting, non-judgemental ponies that Celestia had ever known, and that she would consider herself too wary struck the elder mare as odd. 

She also found it slightly concerning that Twilight was considering her caution. Now that she was a princess, it was important that she honed her skills in the art of discernment and discretion, lest some shifty pony use her naivete against her. 

Celestia hummed and smiled again. Misgivings aside, she was happy that Twilight was moving forward with her study of friendship, and, by the sound of things, she was giving a chance to somepony that hadn’t had many. With a nod, she lit her horn brighter, vanishing the letter to her study, before picking the scone back up. “Thank you for the letter, Twilight,” she said, again, to nopony in particular. Taking a dainty bite, she sighed as her assistant Raven appeared to escort her to her next meeting. “With any luck, it’ll see me through to lunch.”