Rarity's heart beat with the tempo of a thousand snare drums. Her head ached and her legs burned, but she kept running, running, always running. Occasionally the smell would waft up to her nose, chemicals and rotting flesh and an overall stench of death. Every so often another wave of nausea would hit her. But she had to keep running. She had promised her mother and father she'd protect Sweetie Belle, and she was never going to break her promise.
Somewhere behind her, she heard the echoing sound that meant another bomb had gone off. She wondered how many ponies that had killed. How many it had left behind, seconds from death, in more pain than any one pony could ever dream of.
It sickened her.
She'd never understood why they did it. Why these horrible equines would mindlessly kill innocent ponies. But whatever the motives behind it could be, even if they were 'for the greater good', nothing would never make up for all the damage they'd caused.
Finally she had to stop running. Her legs couldn't take it anymore. Exhausted, she slumped to a heap on the ground, the bundle of cloth that was Sweetie Belle strapped to her back.
She heard the clopping of hoofbeats directly behind her, hoping against hope that it was her parents. But when she turned around to look, instead of the pained but loving faces of her parents, she was greeted by the unsympathetic, unsmiling faces of the Peacekeepers.
All the fight left her, and she struggled to get up.
Rarity tossed and turned in her bed, unable to free herself from the awful nightmares. Just a few years ago, Equestria had been a war zone. Corpses had laid dead in the streets, and those seconds before death took their very last breath, racked with unimaginable pain.
Soon, she woke up, the rest of her dreams having not been any better. Rolling over, she glanced at her little sister, sleeping soundly in the bed next to hers. Oh, how she loved that little filly... Rarity had vowed to protect her long ago, and she would to anything to keep that true. She wouldn't bear to lose her...
Sighing, Rarity sat up. It would do no good to dwell on such things.
She quickly got out of bed, going over to arouse her sister as well. The little white unicorn was fast asleep, the warm blankets pulled up over her head.
"Sweetie Belle," she said, pulling the covers off of the filly. "It's time to wake up, Sweetie Belle."
Sweetie Belle reached over and pulled the covers back over her, rolling to face away from Rarity. Rarity laughed, pulling the covers back down.
"Ah-ah-ah, Sweetie!" she said teasingly.
The little unicorn rolled back over, opening one eye to look at Rarity questioningly.
"What's the big idea, Rarity?" she asked, her tone faintly annoyed. "It's still dark out, we don't have to get up for a couple hours."
"At least," Rarity responded. "Not usually."
"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Sweetie questioned.
"I mean," the older mare responded, "that today's Reaping Day."
It took a moment for the words to settle into Sweetie Belle's brain, but when they did, she sat up, her eyes big and terror running through her veins.
"Why so scared?" Rarity questioned. "It's not as if you haven't been trained for this."
"I have, but it's still scary. I don't want to be reaped!" Sweetie exclaimed.
The unicorn shook her head, a playful smile on her face.
"Oh, Sweetie Belle, you don't have to worry about that," Rarity said. "You're only one slip of paper in thousands. The chances of you getting picked are slimmer than Fleur de Lis."
Sweetie smiled at the simile, a common one in their little home.
"Well, dear, I've got several orders to fill today. I'm afraid I won't be able to entertain you as I usually do," Rarity remarked.
The filly shook her head.
"That's okay!" she announced, running off outside. Through the open door, Rarity could just make out the hazy moon slipping over the horizon.
Rarity shook her head. How the filly managed to switch gears so quickly never ceased to amaze the fashionista. One moment she'd be upset, worried about the reaping, and the next she'd be as hyper as a newborn puppy that's just gotten into the sugar bowl.
As Rarity went about doing her work, a tiny nugget of doubt slipped into the back of her mind. Sure Sweetie was only one slip of paper out of thousands, but it only took one slip of paper to be reaped. She simply couldn't ignore the thought, and it troubled her for the rest of the day.
Whilst Rarity was busy cutting and sewing fancy ballgowns and other dresses in the shop, Sweetie Belle ran throughout the town, knocking over several ponies on her way there.
Soon she arrived at a large oak tree just on the outskirts of town. A small treehouse was tucked away between the branches. It was quite a fancy affair for a foal's playhouse, with neat pink trim, little couches inside, and a lovely deck surrounding it.
Her small horn glowed, undoing a simple latch on a bundle of rope. A rope ladder fell down in quick succession.
Inside the treehouse, she wasted no time peeling up a floorboard, releasing clouds of dust as well as a stack of parchment papers.
They appeared to be a sort of diary, pages and pages covered in messy foal's hoofwriting. Sweetie grabbed a writing pencil with one hoof, beginning to inscribe a new entry.
"Today is reaping day," she wrote. "Why am I so worried? I know I probably won't get picked...but what it I do? Or Rarity does? This is bad...
Ponies were squashed together in the square, hoof to hoof, with those not eligible for the reaping spilling out into the side streets. Just looking up at the immense stage sent shivers down Rarity's spine. It was magnificent. Silver, gold, even platinum designs decorated it, and Rarity could easily identify the several kinds of precious and semi-precious jewels that District One was so famous for.
A single mare stood on the stage, but her beauty was more than enough to hold the attention of every pony there. Her slim frame was unusually curvy, and she looked trim and fit. Her light pink mane was streaked with accents of cream, falling in floating waves down to her delicate shoulders. She wore a simple black dress, which exposed her elegant fleur de lis cutie mark. It was Fleur de Lis. Next to her stood two immense glass balls.
"Hello, my good ponies," she said in a clipped Canterlot accent. "I'm sure you're all very excited about the fifth annual Equestria Games."
The sound of several hundred hooves stomping filled the cramped square.
"Now, before we proceed, the Capitol has very kindly provided us with a short educational film about the bloody past that has led to this momentous occasion," Fleur announced.
Her horn briefly glowed, and a large screen nearby flickered to life.
"Our queen...Nightmare Moon," a voice announced, displaying a picture of the mare rearing back on her hind legs. "She liberated us from the tyrant Celestia, but we were not grateful. We fought against her, and for that we must pay. Each district must offer up one mare and one stallion every year to compete in the Equestria Games."
The movie went on to describe the Equestria Games in greater detail, and Rarity tuned out. It seemed impolite to look away, however, and Rarity flinched with all the others as violence exploded on the screen.
Once the video had played to completion, even Fleur looked slightly disturbed at what had happened.
"Well," she said shakily. "Let's give a hoof of applause to the Capitol for providing us with this accurate history of what these games are all about!"
Everypony clapped, more out of relief that it was over than actual gratitude.
"Now, it's time for the reaping!" Fleur announced, relieved. She turned to the crystal ball on her left. "We believe in etiquette here, so let's do the ladies first!"
Rarity squeezed her eyes shut, heart pounding. Sweetie Belle would not get reaped. Rarity wouldn't let that happen. She had promised her parents that she'd protect Sweetie Belle, and she wouldn't break her promise.
Fleur levitated a slim slip of paper out of the ball, unfolding the crumpled paper.
"And the female tribute will be... Sweetie Belle!"
Rarity froze. Surely she must have heard that wrong. Fleur couldn't have said Sweetie Belle. She must have meant something else.
And then she saw her. Sweetie Belle was walking up the path, her steps fearful and pained. She glanced back at Rarity.
Rarity knew what she had to do.
"I volunteer as tribute!" she screamed, her voice raw with emotion. "You can't take her! Take me instead!"
Fleur looked confused.
"Um..." she whispered. "Is she allowed to do that?"
A Capitol cameraman sitting near the stage filming nodded discreetly. Fleur's anxious face turned relieved.
"Well then," she continued. "Come on up here, young lady."
Sweetie Belle looked at Rarity, a mixture of relief and fear on her face.
As Rarity carefully made her way up to the stage, she could feel everypony's eyes boring into her, but she had no doubt she was doing the right thing. She couldn't let Sweetie Belle go off to the Equestria Games like that. The little filly didn't deserve a death sentence. And she wouldn't be doing her job of protecting Sweetie if she let her die.
When she took her place at the top of the stage, she noticed Sweetie Belle's grateful face and smiled. Even if she died in the arena, she had still saved Sweetie's life.
Fleur was announcing the male tribute.
"And the male tribute will be... Time Turner!"
A stallion began picking his way up to the stage. Rarity couldn't say she found him particularly memorable, with a mane and coat in shades of brown and light blue eyes. He had an hourglass cutie mark, which made her wonder what his talent was, but other than that, he was completely unremarkable.
When he came onto the stage, he stood close to Rarity- Rarity felt it to be a little too close, but that didn't seem to be the most prominent of her problems.
"Let's give a big round of applause to our District One tributes!" Fleur said.
The applause was deafening, echoing through the stadium.
After Fleur finished up the mandatory speech, she dismissed the hectic crowd, beckoning Rarity and Time Turner into the Justice Building right behind them.
The only time Rarity could remember being inside the Justice Building was once several years ago, after her parents had died. She remembering riding the elevator with Sweetie Belle clinging to her side. Fleur had presented her with two small medals... two medals she still had, tucked on the shelf above her bed. At the time, she didn't understand how two little bronze scraps were supposed to be compensation for her beloved parents. Now, she realized the Capitol didn't care about compensation.
Her attitude was very different than those of many District One ponies. Rather than revering the Capitol because of the special privileges One received, she hated it for all it had taken from her.
After a few seconds, she realized everypony was staring at her.
"Oh," she said with a nervous laugh. "I do tend to get carried away with my thoughts. This place just brings back some uncomfortable memories."
Fleur nodded, her face screwed into a sympathetic expression.
"As I was saying," she continued. "First you'll say goodbye to your families, and then you'll be meeting here with your mentor, who really should be here by now, then you'll take a train to the Capitol. It's not a very long ride, maybe overnight or a little bit longer. Next comes the Parade, where you'll probably be wearing something with jewels. Then, of course, you'll be headed to the Training Building, where you'll receive three days of rudimentary fighting lessons and survival skills. Then come the Interviews and then you're headed straight for the Arena. Right now we're just waiting on your mentor."
Rarity had to say that she was terrified of what was to come, absolutely petrified. But at least Sweetie Belle was alive.
