The bow felt heavy and awkward as it rested in the crease of Octavia's wrist, her hoof growing numb from the constant position and pressure. She stood in the sound room, her only friend she had left after these months of seclusion propped against her. She allowed the cello to keep her balanced as she looked out the solitary window. The last glorious rays of sunlight flirting down through the sparse clouds, reflecting off the snow that blanketed the world. The icicles hanging from the rooftops and overhangs of the nearby mansions managed to catch Celestia's light, refracting its beauty as the two joined in harmony.

She stared longingly at the outside world, unable to escape her prison the instrument beside her brought with it. She had stayed locked away in the mansion she called home ever since she had gotten the instrument and mark soon after. Her calling had stripped away the life of before, leaving only practice in place of what it had taken. The cello felt as if it was becoming heavier as she continued to stare out the window, demanding attention as it threatened to topple them both over.

Breaking her gaze with the window Octavia let out a sigh, staring at her cello in defeat. "What's the point in practicing if there is no passion behind the notes," She mumbled to herself, placing the bow along the strings. The maple backing felt stiff and cold as it lay against her shoulder while the spruce top basked in the sunlight that warmed her coat.

"Practice makes perfect', father says, 'I don't want to hear one sour note' he says," She grumbled, starting to glide the bow along the strings, hitting each note in perfect time and with the utmost precision. The piece however felt soulless, chilling the hearts of any that heard. No emotion was being sung by the strings as Octavia persisted, her performance cold and calculated instead of creative and inspired.

A knocking at the sound room's door broke her trace, the tempo of the piece lost from the single distraction, a long, bitter note being released as she stopped. Octavia let out a sigh as she set the cello and bow down on their stands. Needles pricked her hoof as she put the bow on its cushion, having completely gone numb from holding it for hours on end.

She tried to put weight on her hoof, only to have sharp knives run through her leg, causing a single tear to form in her soft, lavender eyes. Octavia instantly picked her hoof up, the knives disappearing as quickly as they came, leaving only the single crystalline tear on her muzzle. She noticed her reflection in the droplet, the bags under her eyes from stress and lack of restful sleep leaving their mark upon her.

Brushing the drop aside she reached out for the door handle, only to have the cherry wood of the door swing out to meet with her face. She felt a few more clear tears slide down her face as a burning sensation spread across her head from the impact of the heavy door. She lay in a daze on the ground, only a faint whisper of the shout from whoever had opened the door reached her ears, turning into a garble of nothing as she tried listening.

She hardly noticed the light turquoise hoof waving in front of her face, trying to gain her attention to no avail. A light tapping on her cheek brought her back to the sound room. "How'd I get on my back?" She questioned to herself, her head pounding as she tried to sit up and failed.

"Um... heh, that was sort of my fault Octavia," The light turquoise mare said, rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof, "You alright?" She asked, reaching out a hoof to help her up. The pounding in her head increased as the mare brought her back onto her hooves.

"Lyra? Is that really you?" Octavia said, a haze still lingering over her, "I haven't seen you in months, where have you been?"

"I...I had to deal with some personal problems I was going through, sorry I never stopped by, and about the door..." Lyra said, scuffing the floor with her hoof as she bowed her head just so slightly. A lock of her white highlights falling over her amber eyes as she looked down at her hooves.

"It was nothing Lyra, just a simple accident," she said, as the stinging in her face protested, "Anyways, what brings you here?"

Lyra looked up at her, "Well, tonight is the Winter Solstice Ball, so I came by to check if you were going... but it looks like you forgot all about it."

"I've already asked father and there's no way he'll let me go Lyra, I haven't even left the house since I got my cutie mark..."

"Oh..." Octavia noticed a fleeting look of sadness pass over her amber eyes, "Well, I guess I'll come over after the ball then, and Octavia, I had no clue you were stuck up here, I would have tried coming around sooner or something..."

"Oh, it's fine Lyra," Her voice telling otherwise, "Enjoy yourself at the ball, try to meet someone nice." She said, a weak smile forming across her lips.

"You sure Octavia? I could stay her with you if you want..."

"No, go and enjoy yourself, I need to practice some more if I want to leave this house and I wouldn't like to keep you from having fun," Octavia said, Lyra's eyes seeming to lose some light at these words.

"Ok then, I guess I'll see you later then Octavia." Lyra said as she turned to leave.

"Bye Lyra." Octavia said before closing the door behind her, the faint sound of dragging hooves making their way to her ears. She sighed as she trotted back to her instrument, picking up the bow with her hoof before she propped herself up against the cello again.

A few tears glistened as they dropped from her face, landing on the strings and wood. She started playing, emotion now behind the notes from the visit. The piece bringing sadness to any who heard, including the turquoise mare in the hall way, reflecting her mood.

Beneath the window, a bush rustled as a white mare with a sapphire mane thought of her brother as the piece played, a small puddle at her feet.