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The Strange Music of OctaviaWhen I enrolled in the Canterlot Academy, I knew I was going to learn all sorts of strange things. I had talent, oh yes, but not nearly enough for Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. So, it was the standard Canterlot academy for me.
But as well as learning in detail how to conjure and banish, manipulate and illuminate, I learned outside of the school, one single, indisputable fact:
Equestria is a weird, weird, weird, weird place. I've seen monsters of the darkest myths, alive and walking about. I've seen feats of Unicorn magic beyond anypony's wildest dreams. I've seen whole city streets just up and vanish within a night.
What, may you ask, do I mean by that? Well, it's the truth. No matter how many times I've tried, no matter how many maps I've pored over, paying attention the tiniest details imaginable, I have never again been able to find the Rue d'Lune.
Not just the modern maps of Canterlot that are updated annually, but I've even examined antique and ancient maps of the royal c
Scaling the TowerUnhappy is one for whom life only brings memories of decay and loneliness. Spending endless years looking upon wretched, dismal chambers bedecked with endless bookshelves and cupboards. Gazing out windows into the endless forests of trees, which stretch infinitely into the inky darkness above. Such a fate had been given to me.
Where I came from is a mystery even to me. I have no memories of staying anywhere except in this castle, dark and old and horrible. It is full of black passages and high ceilings, where all I can see is darkness and the occasional cobweb. All about me were signs of death and decay. A hideous damp, rotting smell, as if of the dead corpses of generations. All the windows opened to the same view of the endless trees stretching into the endless black sky. From the northwest corner of the castle there stretched a single stone tower, rising high into the sky and out of sight, perhaps as high as those trees themselves, if not farther. It once may have had stairs or a la
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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