Seth stood there, horrified beyond belief at his parents’, particularly his father’s, reaction. Both unicorns gaped at Octavia, neither of them saying a word. The seconds dragged on as nopony moved. Just before Seth was about to grab Octavia and run for the hills, Octavia spoke up.

“It’s a-a pleasure to meet you,” she stammered slightly, obviously trying to keep a cool façade.

Another second rolled by as Seth’s parents just stood there. Seth looked at his father who had only just thrown him a glance of pure surprise before returning his gaze to Octavia.

Hang on, surprise? Why is he surprised? Seth thought, the pieces not quite adding up.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, dear,” Seth’s mother eventually said, her voice calm and collected, contrasting against her earlier silence.

But why is father surprised?!

“Ye… oh, yes!” Seth’s father cleared his throat after his wife nudged him gently. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Versaille Locarno.”

But why was he so surprised?! That looked like disbelief in his eyes… he looked over at Octavia, looking beautiful as always. He looked back at his father, who was staring at her, and then back at Octavia. Disbelief… wait a second… It clicked. OH CELESTIA D-

“Seth, where are your manners?” his mother reprimanded gently. “You never told me about your marefriend.” She tsked politely, shaking her head. “Also allow me to introduce myself, dear. I am Andréa, Seth’s mother. Welcome to our home.” She smiled at her warmly.

“Thank you, it’s great to finally meet you,” Octavia replied, smiling back at them, her confidence clearly returning.

“Yes,” Seth said finally, after counting mentally to three. He was still seething at his father. “It’s so wonderful to see you all. It has been far too long.” Stupid stallion doesn’t believe how attractive Octavia is…

The irony that it was his self confidence that had just been torn up, and not Octavia’s, despite all of her fretting otherwise and his confidence, was certainly not lost on him. This trip was off to a great start.

“That it has,” Andréa replied, smiling at her son. “Oh, I just remembered, you have had a terribly long journey and you must be exhausted! Please, come inside!” She gestured for Seth and Octavia to enter, positively beaming now. “Francis will see to it that your bags are placed in one of the guest rooms. For now though, a tour of the house and then a drink I feel is in order!”

Octavia and Seth walked passed the older ponies and into the foyer. Versaille took one last appraising glance and Octavia and then stared at Seth, the message of ‘how did you get one like that?!’ written as broad as day over his face. Seth felt a particularly black feeling settle on him as he glowered at his father.

“Your home is just beautiful,” Octavia said, just slightly in awe of the building in which they currently stood.

“Thank you, dear. We quite like it ourselves.” Andréa winked at Octavia.

It was indeed, beautiful. The entrance room was about twenty metres long, with glossy marble floors that featured specks of gold to break up the white. Snaking their way from the middle of the room to the back, were two symmetrical, sweeping staircases, also made of marble. The banisters were golden and had been in fact, covered in gold leaf. Along the walls were large portraits of what Octavia assumed were Seth’s ancestors. Between the paintings hung large purple banners, featuring the symbol of a golden circlet in front of the rising sun in the middle.

Andréa gestured that they follow as she walked up the right-hand staircase, Versaille only a step behind her. Seth’s father began to talk as they walked.

“Locarno Mansion is the joint venture of the Locarno and the Pacius families. As the names suggest, both families treasure their historical roots. As I am sure you can no doubt identify by the Reneighssance style names and architecture.”

Andréa turned to wink at Octavia, interrupting her husband as she did. “Anyway, while all very fascinating, I am sure nopony wants to be given a history lesson, so let me show you the rooms.”

Seth breathed a sigh of relief. The history of their families and how this mansion came to be became very tedious after hearing it for the thousandth time.

As the afternoon began to creep in, the four ponies slowly meandered their way through the enormous manor. Octavia was blown away by the sheer size of the place; the lavish trappings only further adding to her awe. The fact that there were over fifteen separate bedrooms, all with humungous princess-sized beds, and an ensuite bathroom to boot, or that there were three kitchens, each the size of her apartment back in Canterlot, did nothing to ease her wonder.

“Of course, despite the wonderful heating system installed into the floor, we never get to use it, as this is only our summer home,” Andréa lamented, disappointment clear in her voice.

And then there was that.

Any room that was not floored with marble featured soft, thick, purple carpet, the same symbol on the banners back in the foyer stitched in gold in the middle floor. In fact, purple was the predominate colour of the entire building, complimented at all times by gold edging in various shapes or forms. All in all, the entire tour took well over an hour, even with Andréa toward the end just pointing down hallways and explaining that down them were only more bedrooms, or sitting rooms, or libraries, or studies.

When they were done, the four of them enjoyed a drink on one of the balconies looking over the gardens. If the house was impressive, then the gardens were something else entirely. They were huge, an organic network of roses, shrubs, fruit trees, flowers and bushes. Everything was arranged into neat sections with twisting paths in between. Spaced throughout were fountains, similar in theme to the one in the entrance courtyard. In the middle of this sprawling metropolis of life, however, lay an open grass field, about two-hundred metres long. Central to this meadow was a gigantic stone statue of six ponies standing around what appeared to be the sun. It was hard to make out details from this distance, but it almost looked like they were defending it.

Octavia took a gasp of surprise when she saw the gardens. “Wow…”

“Ah yes, the gardens,” Andréa said lovingly. “They are the pride and joy of the house. We had statues and fountains shipped from my family’s various estates just for this.”

“It’s incredible,” Octavia breathed.

“I’m glad you think so.”

While the two mares sipped at chilled sparkling water, Seth and Versaille stood awkwardly nearby.

“So, how is work?”

“It’s well, Father.”

“Excellent. I was pleased to hear about your success in re-establishing Luna’s night court.”

“Thank you.” Seth was confused, his father actually sounded… proud.

Versaille nodded and took a sip of the glass of wine he was levitating. Seth followed suit. A silence fell, broken only by the pleasant chatter of their companions.

“You play the cello?” Andréa said excitedly. “Oh how marvellous! Wait, you’re that earth pony prodigy that took the CCMA by storm a couple of months back, aren’t you!”

“You heard about that?” Octavia replied weakly.

Seth smiled, despite all her sophistication; she still had trouble taking a compliment.

“My dear, who didn’t hear about that, should be the real question. Apparently you were simply amazing! We must play together!”

“You play an instrument?”

“I do, indeed. The violin, my dear. Hasn’t Seth told you?”

Octavia shook her head. “No, I don’t think he has.”

“Oh that featherbrain! Well, yes, I have played the violin since I was a filly. But I digress, we simply have to play together!”

“That sounds wonderful!”

Seth reluctantly returned his attention back toward his father. “Nice weather we’re having,” he said eventually.

Versaille nodded. “Indeed.”

Ugh… this is overrated…

“So, Octavia… I assume she is actually your marefriend?”

Seth wanted to scream with frustration. “Yes father, she is.”

“She’s quite the attractive mare. How in the Princess’ name did you manage to get her to fall for you?”

And that, was the line for Seth. He threw his father a dark look and moved over to take a seat next to Octavia and joined in on their conversation. Octavia noticed Seth’s tensed jaw yet said nothing. Neither of them saw the slightly crestfallen Versaille behind them.

Later that afternoon, Andréa had shown Octavia and Seth to their room. It was just like the other bedrooms in the mansion, with a large princess-sized bed standing in the middle of the room. A great window bathed the room in sunlight, its long purple drapes pulled back.

Andréa had retreated soon after, leaving the two ponies alone for a time before dinner that evening. Seth gave a sigh of relief; it was nice to simply relax. Being at ‘home’ had put the unicorn on edge and the conflicts with his father only made things worse.

“This place is incredible!” Octavia exclaimed a second after Andréa had left.

Seth chuckled slightly. “I’m glad you think so.”

Octavia, noticing his half-hearted response, raised an eyebrow. “Are you ok, Seth darling?”

“I…” Seth stopped. “I am fine. Being home feels a little weird, I guess.”

“How did you get along with your father? You didn’t look too happy out on the balcony.”

Seth snorted. “That did not go well.”

“How come?”

“Because nothing has changed, Octavia. Nothing has changed,” Seth responded wearily.

“You’ve changed.” Seth looked up at Octavia’s words. “You have changed. You have changed since I met you, you’re happier now. Maybe you just need to try harder.” Her words weren’t harsh, in fact, they were gentle and honest, a reminder just where reality really lay.

“I…”

“Try please. For me?”

It was those damned eyes again, large, pleading, and filled with concern. He exhaled deeply. “For you.”

Octavia smiled and kissed him gently. “Thank you.”

When they had finished unpacking, Octavia insisted that they go down and visit the gardens. Being a beautiful day and desperately wanting to get out of the house itself, Seth agreed enthusiastically.

Outside, the sun had begun its slow descent towards the horizon, washing the air with an orange light. Seth followed Octavia as she picked her way through the multitude of snaking paths through the garden. She would often stop and take a moment to smell or gaze at particular flowers.

“Seth, these roses, they’re gorgeous. I would love to get some roses for my apartment.”

“They are nice,” Seth replied, paying more attention to the mare in front of him than the flowers.

“Roses have always been my favourite type of flower. I guess that’s probably to be expected considering the cliché of having them thrown at a performer’s hooves.” She paused and stared off into space. “But I liked them before that, actually. We had some small ones growing in our garden back home when I was a filly. Mother always used to let me help water them. One summer’s day, it was really hot so when she was watering them, she tipped the watering can on me.” She smiled at the memory, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. “But that was a long time ago now.”

“Re-live it then,” Seth said gently.

Octavia turned and looked at him, a small smile on her face. “Maybe.”

Seth walked up and kissed her softly, the physical contact expressing his concern and affection better than any words. Sighing softly, she broke the kiss and nuzzled his neck, thankful for the support.

They stayed there for a long time, neither pony wanting to move. After a few minutes, they had sat down on the small strip of grass that lined each section, surrounded by flowers.

“Could you imagine, living in a place like this?” Octavia asked after a while.

Seth laughed. “I did. Well, off and on through the summers. Honestly, it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be.”

“Of course it isn’t.” Octavia rolled her eyes, smiling as she did.

“I’m serious! Especially as a young colt growing up, a place like this is boring. Not to mention it sends all the wrong kind of messages about wealth and power.” Now it was Seth’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Do you miss it, though?”

Seth thought for a moment. “Sometimes. Even if I try to run away from it all, it still was my home.”

Octavia had no reply to that, so she chose to lean up against the stallion instead. They sat and watched the breeze gently rustle the rose bushes, the scratching of the leaves becoming soft background noise.

Without warning, Octavia suddenly jerked upright, her eyes alight.

“Seth, look! A butterfly!” she whispered excitedly, pointing with her hoof.

Seth followed the direction she was pointing and sure enough a small, pale-yellow butterfly danced through the rose bushes, its haphazard flying somehow lithe and graceful.

“It’s so pretty,” Octavia breathed. Seth had stopped watching the butterfly and was instead staring at Octavia, entranced by the pure, unadulterated wonder on her face.

“I haven’t seen a butterfly in such a long time!” It was probably true as well, in the middle of sprawling Canterlot, butterflies just could not be found outside of the Canterlot gardens.

Slowly and tentatively, she got up and began to inch her way closer to the fluttering insect. Seth watched as she carefully placed one hoof after the other, vigilant as to not make a sound. Drawing near to the butterfly, she pounced; her eyes alight with foalhood delight as she began to chase the creature.

“Seth, come on! It’s getting away!”

Seth got up and took after Octavia who was madly chasing after the butterfly. Unable to run through the rose bushes, she was forced to go around, trying to anticipate its movements.

Octavia laughed as she ran, totally carefree. “Seth, go around the other side and tell me if you see it!”

“It’s over here!”

Octavia dashed over to him, her eyes darting back and forwards looking for the butterfly.

“It got away! Come on, it went this way!”

And so they continued the chase, laughing as they went. It was not long before they found themselves in the large central meadow, having long since lost the trail of their quarry. They stopped, struggling for breath as they laughed.

“What was that about?” Seth finally gasped out, still chuckling slightly.

“H-having fun,” Octavia replied innocently, considerably more out of breath than Seth.

“That poor butterfly!”

“It’s good exercise,” Octavia shot back, causing Seth to lose himself to another laughing fit.

“Good exercise indeed,” he choked out after finally catching his breath back for the second time in as many minutes.

Seth couldn’t help but marvel at the mare beside him. What she had just done was so uncharacteristic of her normal sophisticated, upper-class self. And yet Seth was utterly entranced. She had moved with grace and joy, each step seemingly ending with a small bounce. The musician hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time, a large carefree expression, devoid of all responsibility and stress. To Seth, nothing was more beautiful than her smile. Octavia was revealing a side of herself that Seth was sure that hardly anypony had ever seen - and he loved every part of it.

He smiled and relaxed into the grass below him, the lazy summer sun warming his body, utterly content in the moment.

Later that evening, Seth and Octavia made their way to the manor’s main dining room for dinner. It had been lavishly set, especially considering that there were only four ponies eating there that night.

“Octavia, Seth! Please, come on in!” Andréa called out when she noticed the two new arrivals.

The dining room was massive with a long wooden table covered in a purple table cloth making its way down the majority of the hall. Doors led off to the kitchens on both sides, a constant stream of waiters now using them to ferry silver dishes out. The amount of food present shocked Octavia.

“How was your afternoon? Seth’s mother continued as she lit a candle with magic after they had sat down.

“It was wonderful,” Seth said. “I had forgotten how fantastic the gardens looked this time of year.’

“Yes, they are truly amazing,” Octavia agreed.

Andréa chuckled. “I am glad you enjoyed them. But now you must be starving! So please, eat!”

Not needing any more invitation, Seth happily dug in. Octavia was far more civil, carefully choosing her servings. She raised an eyebrow at Seth’s enthusiasm, but chose not to say anything.

It was not long before Andréa started off the conversation. “So Octavia, tell me, how is your music proceeding?”

“Everything is going fantastically, at the moment,” she replied. “The CCMA is hosting myself and my band for rehearsals while we finalise our new set before we start giving performances.”

“The CCMA? My, my, they have taken a shining to you. I am impressed.”

“Well,” Octavia said, blushing. “I am just looking forward to performing again, especially with my friends.”

“That sounds wonderful. We shall be sure to come and see you perform as soon as you finish preparing. I trust you are still able to play with me after dinner?”

“Of course! I can’t wait!”

“Delightful!” She paused to swallow a mouthful of food. “So Seth,” she continued, driving the conversation forward. “How fares your work? Keeping your head above the obnoxiousness of Canterlot?”

Seth snorted slightly, a sound Octavia was not sure his parents were meant to hear. “Work is fine, mother. I am currently helping Red Tape with his irrigation proposal for the western settlements.”

“So small a job?” his father interrupted, his brow furrowed.

“Yes. I am taking a small break after the Luna’s night court.”

Octavia watched as Versaille began to bristle as he opened his mouth angrily, but Andréa cut him off, a dangerous look in her eye. “That sounds lovely, dear. We all need a break every now and then. It can do wonders for the mind.”

Seth nodded in agreement, not able to look at his father. For the rest of the evening, Octavia and Andréa chatted quietly, Seth and Versaille not saying a word.

When they had finished up, Octavia and Andréa had left for Andréa’s private study. It was a large room with a desk in one corner, and two sofas up against the wall by the window. The middle of the room was empty, however, featuring only a single music stand and a chair. Octavia noticed her cello had already been brought up.

“This here is my space,” Andréa said, waving a hoof around at the room. “Everything I love, beyond my family, resides in this room.” She paused, a sad smile entering her eyes. “But regardless, I think it is time we played, yes?”

Octavia nodded, smiling at the older mare. “Yes, that sounds wonderful.”

“I must apologise, I only have the one seat. We can fetch one for you if you wish?”

The grey mare shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. I stand to play.”

Andréa raised an eyebrow. “My, that is certainly impressive.” Octavia knew that she was probably referring to the length of her shows and thus the period of time she had to stand, rather than the rarity of musicians standing in the first place. More than one critic had spoken highly of her endurance, and it seemed Andréa had read a few of those.

“Do you have anything in particular you would like to play?” Octavia asked.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we could start with one of mine. That’s if you are ok improvising for a spell.”

“You write music as well?”

Andréa nodded and pointed to the cutie mark Octavia had yet to pay any attention to. “Of course! Writing music was my special talent.” True to her word, the image of a partly filled musical manuscript occupied her flank. Octavia could not help but notice the aching sense of… something that had weighed heavily upon the golden mare’s words.

“Then I would be honoured to,” Octavia replied.

Andréa smiled at her before going over to a large wooden cabinet on the wall. Using magic, she opened the doors and levitated one the most beautiful instruments Octavia had ever seen. The violin was a deep, dark red with a warbled pattern of deeper shades of almost black reds complimenting the aesthetic. Lacing the sides were organic patterns of gold leaf, arching their way through many twists and turns, all ending at a single point at the instrument’s neck. On the back of the violin was the emblem of the sun that Octavia had seen all through out the mansion, only this time without the circlet. Octavia gasped.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

Seth’s mother smiled at her. “She truly is, isn’t she? My pride and joy.”

Still holding the priceless instrument in her magic, Andréa brought the bow over to her as well. She looked at Octavia expectantly as she sat down, bringing letting the violin rest on her shoulder. Gathering her intentions, Octavia quickly brought up her own instrument and readied herself to perform. When she was ready, she nodded back at the older mare.

Closing her eyes, Andréa began to play. She played slowly at first, the melody reaching forward and washing over the grey mare. The music was sweet, yet sad, filled with a longing for an unspoken freedom. Preparing herself, Octavia soon entered the melody with a deeper, resonating tune, complimenting perfectly with the unicorn’s.

As the song progressed, Andréa started to play faster and faster, clearly building for a climax. Falling naturally into the older mare’s rhythm, Octavia found her own playing increase in speed, her notes shaking the walls of her emotions. As the song progressed, the melody became a bird, soaring toward a freedom it had never known possible, the notes of its existence holding and falling, growing louder and louder. Octavia knew the bird was almost free, that it was almost home and she willed it to be so with every fibre of her being. She ached for the bird to find its purpose, to find its home. And then just when it was all about to come true, it was all over. The cello’s notes being the last to fade into silence. Octavia wiped away a tear, and saw Andréa do the same.

“Thank you,” Andréa whispered. “Thank you.”

Octavia couldn’t bring herself to respond, and so they sat in a silence that still resonated with the memory of the song.

“I was just a little filly,” Andréa had said after a while, “just a little filly born into a world where expectations were everything. I stumbled across my special talent by pure accident, finding books upon composing in one of our libraries. It was a whole new world for me, a world of creation, expression and beauty in a place where everything had been already laid out for me. I practiced diligently, and in that time learned to play violin. I played at a few recitals at the boarding school in which I lived most of the time. Ponies told me I was talented, that Equestria would fall head over hooves for a pony like me. Maybe they were right, but I never found out.

“For you see, I was growing older and my mother had so many expectations for me, none of which involved music. I fought with her. Briefly. But my mother won. She always won. I lost my dream, and it never came back even though I never stopped writing and playing music.” She stopped and looked at Octavia, the tears clear in her eyes.

“Promise me Octavia, please promise me. You are so very talented. Never, never give up your dreams, and never stop fighting for them. Never. P-promise me!” the old mare’s voice cracked.

Octavia was shell shocked. She didn’t deserve this level of trust, this level of commendation. But she knew what the right thing was, and with all her heart, she wanted to follow it.

“I will. I promise you that I will. You have my word,” Octavia said with all the sincerity she could muster.

“Thank you,” the golden unicorn said softly. “Thank you. Seth is so very lucky to have you.”

“He’s… a great pony. He means the world to me,” Octavia admitted with a blush. The words stirred something inside of her, a warmth that brushed away all of the sadness left by the song. She smiled, letting the flame wash over her.

Andréa smiled at her, her eyes twinkling gently. “I can see that, Octavia. I can see that.”

For Seth, the evening was not going as he would have liked. After the two mares had excused themselves, Seth had found himself staring at the one pony he did not want to speak to: his father. Despite the little pony in his head screaming at him to leave, Octavia’s request lingered with him, forcing him to speak up. He would make an attempt to hold a pleasant conversation… for her. Nopony else.

“Dinner was delicious, father,” he forced out, not at all sure that the silence wasn’t better.

His father had long since cooled down since the little episode at dinner and appeared thoughtful. “It was. I am so very lucky these days.”

Seth raised an eyebrow.

“Seth, would you like to join me in my study? We can talk over some scotch, if you would like.” Seth couldn’t help but notice that his father’s words were just as forced as his. The fact that both of them had barely glanced at the other only reinforced this notion.

“Sounds fine to me.”

Ugh, this is like a conversation with Top Hat…

Seemingly pleased, Versaille stood up from the table and left the hall, Seth close behind him. Neither of them said a word as they walked, both deciding that the carpet was a safer investment for their attention.

This truce, however, shattered the minute they entered the study of Versaille Locarno. The study was dark, lit only by a dim lantern in the middle of the roof. The desk was central to the room’s layout, its old, antique timber instantly drawing the attention of anypony who entered. By the window sat a table filled with various crystal decanters, all filled with some sort of amber liquid. Seth had been here only a few times as a colt; his father hated distractions while he worked, or thought… or did anything at all, really.

Versaille walked straight over to the table with the alcohol and poured out two glasses before levitating one to Seth. Both ponies took a sip before the old stallion spoke up.

“A vacation from work, then?” Versaille’s voice was accusing, invasive.

Straight to the point, huh, Father?

Seth, after coming under verbal fire, found himself naturally fighting back. “I’m frankly surprised you know the meaning of the word, Father.”

Versaille’s expression darkened. “Don’t speak that way to me. I am your father, remember that.”

“That you are. That you are,” Seth muttered, taking another sip.

His father ploughed on, “What in the Princesses names are you taking a vacation for? Do you not understand how easy it is to lose the initiative in your line of work?”

“I understand that perfectly, Father.”

“Then why are you throwing everything away?!” his father nearly shouted, his face growing red.

Seth regarded him with a glare, Octavia’s voice having long since faded away from his mind. “Always straight to the point, hmm Father? No subtly, no planning, just straight to whatever it is you want.” He shook his head. “No surprises there, I guess. So in answer to your question, keeping in line with your personal philosophy of bluntness, quite frankly, I’m not sure I want to keep ‘everything’ in my possession anymore.”

Seth watched with grim satisfaction as his words struck home, his father’s expression quickly turning into one of horror.

“But… why, Seth? Why?”

Seth froze; he was not expecting that response.

“Why would you want that? What in the name of all that is peaceful in Equestria could make a pony want that?!”

Much better, Seth thought. Anger he could deal with. His father’s first reaction just made him feel… guilty.

“Because, father, life does not revolve around work for everypony, like yourself. Even if our culture of cutie marks suggests otherwise,” he added, almost as an after thought.

“But you loved work! Work gave you meaning, and I gave that to you!”

“You are correct, father, I did ‘loved’ work. Not anymore.”

“After everything I gave you, you are just willing to throw it all away, just because you don’t want it?!” Versaille was definitely shouting now, and that merely fuelled Seth’s anger.

“Of course! Now the truth is revealed! It truly is just about you, isn’t it? It’s all about what you gave me! Nothing to do with me and what may or may not have influenced my decision.”

“What may or may have influenced your decision?! I will tell you what influenced your decision. You are just lazy! You are too lazy with your head in the clouds after meeting that mare! You need to learn to buck up and face the real world, Seth. Your cutie mark defines who you are, and you better well get back to what it means!”

“Lazy? Head in the clouds?! THAT MARE?!” Seth screamed. “You have NO idea father! Do not even begin to presume to know what is going through my head! I can’t work because my cutie mark is meaningless! Do you know how that feels, to stare at something that is meant to give your life purpose, and realise that it means NOTHING? DO YOU?” Seth was trembling now, unable to contain his rage. His father stared at him horrified.

“Of course you don’t! You have no clue! It’s the ponies like you, father, which made me like this. You all think of nothing but yourselves, yourselves and your position, your place in society. There is no substance to it; there is no substance to me!

“So don’t you DARE presume to lecture me about my cutie mark, and you will NEVER, I repeat, NEVER refer to Octavia as ‘that mare’ again! Do you understand me?! I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

Versaille stood, dumbstruck. Seth panted from exertion, every nerve in his body trembling. He stared at his father, unable to say a word, as years of frustration rushed to the surface.

“I just can’t take this anymore! All I ever wanted… no forget it. Just forget this, all of this. Nothing has changed. Nothing will ever change.”

And with that, Seth turned out walked out the door, leaving the glass of scotch on his father’s treasured desk, not at all noticing his father reach dumbly out to him.

Seth stormed through the halls of the place he despised calling home. He was furious. He had briefly entertained the hope that his father might actually understand his problem; after all, that’s what fathers were meant to be for, to understand, and to help. But from his, Seth got nothing but everything he hated from his life.

The unicorn burst open the doors out to the garden with magic and began to run through the rows upon rows of foliage as they streaked past him. He hated this. He hated this with every fibre of his being. He had gotten so close to leaving this behind with Octavia, but now, his father had brought it all crashing back on his head.

Reaching the meadow in the middle of the garden, Seth screamed into the night air and collapsed onto the grass. He was right, nothing had changed.

Back in the house, Octavia and Andrea heard the shout echo into the night. They both looked up in horror.

“Seth,” they said in unison.

“I have to find him!” Octavia shouted, and ran out of the door as fast as she could, letting her cello fall loudly to the ground as she did.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, with one word repeating itself in her head over, and over again, laced with more emotions than Octavia could count.

Seth.

She had to get to him, and she had to find him. And nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to stop her.

A/N: Hey there everyone, I hope you all liked this chapter! The pace is really starting to pick up now! :D

A big thank you to Dacaz5 for putting up with me and keeping me going, another big thank you to HeWhoErasesMost for the cover image and a huge thank you to Sessalisk for editing! Also, thank you everybody for reading this! It really means a lot! :) Don't forget to leave a comment or a star rating! See you next chapter!