The Heart of Music
Somewhere within the Castle of Canterlot, inside an exquisitely decorated room overlooking the gardens; sat two ponies. One, a female reporter with a very rare opportunity, and the other was the musician known as Octavia. They sat together, secluded from the press for a special interview that began with a simple question…
"The ponies always say that music comes from the heart, but I wonder. What is inside the heart that drives such inspiration and talent from the artist?" The reporter asked, quite curious even to know for herself.
Octavia had to think for a moment, it wasn't that she didn't know, but rather that it only shows itself when it comes down to anything and everything about music. From writing it to performing it, there has always been her story; though she hasn't ever told it once until now.
"I was just a young mare when I first held an instrument, it was a violin actually. It was given to me on my birthday, and I was overjoyed except I hadn't the slightest idea how to play it. When I first slid the bow across the strings it came so naturally to me," Octavia said with a modest smile.
"So is that what the pictures capture, when you lean out with your eyes closed while you play?" The reporter inquired.
"No, I suppose it isn't, there's more to it than that. Not long after I received my violin did a musician pass through town. He had played the violin since he was a colt." Octavia said, thinking back to the days before Canterlot.
"I bet ten bits he was handsome too!" The reporter joked.
"Quite," Octavia said with a short laugh.
"Go on," the reporter urged her to continue the story.
"He noticed me right away, and asked how long I have been playing the violin, and honestly I said not very long at all. He offered to show me how to play, that he would teach me, even rehearsals and play in shows. I loved the sound of the violin, so I leapt at the opportunity," Octavia said, recalling how excited she was.
"So you went with him?" The reporter asked.
"We worked together for some time, we traveled and participated in multiple orchestras. Our passion for music drove us nearly to the top," Octavia said, but stopped as though she had more to say.
"Nearly?" The reporter asked surprisingly.
"We always made it through together, auditions, shows, competitions. We always watched out for each other, even when I moved on to the cello instead of the violin. Our pursuit to be the best brought us close," Octavia said sadly.
"What happened then?" The reporter asked with even greater curiosity than before.
"Canterlot happened. We reached the top of the mountain and there was only room for one. The Canterlot Orchestra was willing to accept one more multi-talent position. We went to the auditions together knowing only one of us would have the career of our dreams. I went out on stage before he did, and I played beautifully and better than I ever had in front of an extremely large audience for an audition," Octavia said before trailing off in her thoughts.
"Well clearly you made it, what became of the stallion?" The reporter asked anxiously.
"Right at the very end of my audition, within the last few notes of my song, he was the last contestant after all the others were rejected. He walked out while I was playing, came over to me, and in front of many judges and high class spectators… kissed me on the lips in the last few notes. The audience applauded and cheered, I can't specifically recall why because at that moment I had closed my eyes. He promptly left the stage, and I never saw him again. He let me win, and live the career we both dreamed about," Octavia said in a soft and relatively calm voice.
"Through all of that you have never once mentioned his name; did you ever wish to see him again after all of your success?" The reporter inquired, trying to hold together a professional manner after that.
Octavia sighed and spoke honestly, "I think it is better to have these things left in the past as they were. He gave me all I ever wanted by giving up his own, and I love him for that. He made his decision to leave, and I honor it."
"So music comes from the heart indeed, the heart that holds memories of sacrifice, love, and dreams of life and happiness; but it's the kiss though isn't it? It's the kiss that is felt when you play, to close your eyes and lean the way you do. I will be honest with you Octavia, all my years of interviewing and reporting and I have never once heard a story as beautiful as yours," the reporter said with heartfelt sympathy.
"Thank you," Octavia said.