Inimitable (Rarity)

by Regina Wright

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark
Length: 1981

Rarity wakes up in a odd room with a echo in a mirror as her guide as she tries to make her way through a surreal landscape. She can't remember what she was supposed to be doing, though.

This is a companion story to Hallaloo (It's Hallelujah)

Her name is Rarity.
Maybe. It sounds right. Or does it?
It will be her name until she remembers her real one.

She is a dress-maker. Was one. And she's not sure what this sword has to do with clothing. It's good for killing the monsters in the wastes so there's no point in complaining. She has five friends who are in danger! Or not. She can't really remember if it was four or it was five. Or other things too. Didn't she have a sister? Somepony was trying to warn her to mind her memories, weren't they? This place isn't safe. His name was….

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-04-27 01:30:14 UTC

Don't Leave, Rarity.

Her sewing machine stops right when she was about to finish the last double stitch. Rarity growls, annoyed to be forced to take a break when she's so close to be done.

She politely yawns and stretches her forearms. Oh well, it's good to take a break. Sweetie Belle might be cross at Rarity for ignoring her so long even though they had nothing planned. She had go check up on her sister at some point today. Or she might stop by Twilight's place, for the walk because her legs do feel so stiff and sore.

Scratch that. It's time for another trip to the spa!

Maybe Fluttershy would want to come if she wasn't too busy with her animals? They could both talk Rainbow Dash and Applejack into going if they got Twilight to come along. This was going to be exciting day after all and her work could wait!

But it wouldn't be right to let her sewing machine remain jammed before she put it away. What if it's time to get a new one? Rarity fiddles with it and for some reason, the internal mechanism has iced over.

“This has happened before,” Rarity sputters, her mind drawing blanks, as she falls off her wooden stool, hitting her head on the moss covered floor. Yuck! What has happened to her store for it to have become so overgrown? “Something isn't right. I can feel it on the tip of my tongue.”

In a bit of a daze, she gets back on to her hooves and examines her workstation. She was in the middle of working, wasn't she? Rarity racks her mind, trying to remember what it was exactly before she was interrupted... But she can't seem to recall. There should be clues here to help, she thinks and studies the room.

A long piece of garment made out of shimmering fabric hangs from the ceiling, supported by rusting gears and crooked pulleys and is attached to her strangely aged workstation. Hesitantly, she touches the desk and several coats of dust and warm, gooey, wet clumps of something sticks to her hooves. She takes another quick look around, not wanting to be caught doing something unladylike, and smears the gunk back onto the desk.

Rarity walks around her workstation to see where the garment ends and finds that is continues down a very dark and narrow hole. She kneels down and angles her neck to have a better view. The hole is illuminated with a strange orange light which makes it simple to see the tunnel that shouldn't be under her store.

This is odd. Stay calm.

“Rarity.”

This is very odd. Stay calm!

She squeals in fright and dives behind her workstation, eyes swirling all around the place. Things she ignored start popping out at her. She hadn't seen a door once. The whole place has been ransacked, glass sprinkles the entire ground and a cracked mirror sits on a bizarre looking chair. Windows, if you can call weirdly shaped backwards letters, windows are smeared with the sticky gunk, looking like filthy hoof prints clawing at the outside.

They could only have been hers if she was trapped in a one room house with no doors!

“Whoo!” she screeches, fear swallowing her voice, “Who said that?”

“Over here, Rarity. Don't be frightened. I can do you no harm even if I wished so. I am in the mirror. Come and see for yourself.”

Rarity approaches, stepping over things that don't look right, tufts of purple bloody hair and broken teeth. Prudently, she pauses and licks her tongue over her teeth. None are missing so the ones on the floor can't be hers. With her clean hoof, she pats at her hair and tail. They feel normal but...

“Rarity.”

She jumps. “Don't do that. I am coming and I beg your pardon for being frightened in an unusual place! I needed to regain my bearings.” She reaches the mirror and sees a curious thing.

The mirror doesn't reflect the room, she notices, but some distant land in snow and ice. A pony-shaped specter, of ice and steam, looks back at her and there was a name about things like him. Creatures? Myths? Weren't they? But she couldn't remember. She can't remember and her body trembles.

“Why are you in the-”

“It's not important. You don't have much time left. None of you do. Hurry and be on your way. I'll create the door for you-”

Things were moving too fast and she couldn't help herself. “Look, you do not get to boss me around, Mr. Whoever-You-Are! Introductions must come first or madness will take us all! My name is Rarity, what is yours?” Who were they? Did he mean her friends? Did he put her here?

The visitor sighs, his breath fogs up the glass and Rarity can't help the shudder that runs up her spine. It not the stallion in the mirror that frightens her. It's deja vu. It's the teeth on the floor. The hair. Her memory.

And what was the garment she was sowing for?

Rarity looks away from the mirror and glances at the garment. It still shimmers when she looks at it but something... The details with in it. She can makes out shapes. Ponies. Names. Why?

“My name is Memoria,” he speaks, interrupting her train of thought. She welcomes it. “You can consider me a dead god. I am only a echo, a fragment left by my former self. I reigned over memory and I can do little here in your prisons. My influence over this particular realm is weak at best.”

“Prisons-”

“You probably don't remember but we struck a deal when you and your friends cured me from my madness. I hoped to do the same for you,” he pauses and fades into steam, vanishing from her sight before reforming. “When you five were still together, you spoke to me of things I hardly understood but I've done my best to mind your memories. Do you understand?”

No, she didn't. “Yes,” she replies with a quiver. “You do mean six, right? All of my friends and I?”

“There are only five of you... here,” Memoria corrects with a strange tone, as he's struggling to not tell her something. “I am not infallible. Memories can be remembered differently and this realm has caught on to my presence. I've been putting you back together after every time we failed to escape but the creatures who roams these lands have been altered to infect me. We can't take anymore chances.”

“Have I died multiple times? Am I some sort of walking corpse! Speak clearer.”

“There's no death here. Only oblivion. The monsters here feast on aspects of self. They are hollow husks who only communicate with pain. There's no point in attempting to reason with them. I'm sorry if you're confused but you always managed to surprise me even though we had the same conversation countless times.”

“How could I surprise you? You're the one who remembers everything! Why can't you just give me back all of my memories and send me on my merry way?”

“We tried that. Have you noticed what you've been stepping around? The only one who has been physically in this room is you.”

“I... wouldn't have reacted like this!” The walls are beginning to feel too close. Her saliva, pools in her mouth and she can feel her stomach squeeze. She had to be strong, for her friends, for Memoria, for herself if they were to escape this wretched place. “If my friends are in danger, I...”

“You don't need to convince me, I already know you can escape. But the question is are you're willing to escape by the time you reach the end?” Memoria pauses again, his face turning away from her. “Don't worry about your friends. This place play tricks. It's lonely and it will do anything to put you back in here, in this room where it can watch you at it's leisure. One of you must make it so you can free the others.”

“Just... I...”

“This is my weapon. It is called Kairos.” A  long silver blade with a hook-like handle appears next to her. “It can change shape, simply think of what you want it to be. Wield it with certainly and it shall slay your enemies.”

Rarity takes the sword with her magic and gives it a experimental swing. The blade is heavy and  thoughts eats at her. Could she handle what she would have to use it for? In a instinct, the blade becomes heavier and slips out her magical grip with a loud clanging. Don't drop the sword again, she thinks.

“It lives up to it's...uh... name quite well. Wield it with certainly, I'll definitely remember it.”

“Good,” Memoria agrees. “I will now create the door. Are you ready?”

“Wait... Is there anything I should know? Traps. Types of Monsters. Places to go? Places to avoid?” Assuming they've done this multiple times, Memoria might have a plan. Or she could have told him a plan to tell her if she's forgotten. Or-

“Don't look into mirrors that aren't broken in some way,” he sighs and mutters under his breath something Rarity can't pick up. “Try not to let the monsters kill you too often. They steal memories now and I don't know what will happen when all of the memories I use to heal you are gone.”

“What? That can't be everything. You haven't answer my questions. Don't you dare leave!” Memoria vanishes and the mirror falls apart. “Not helpful~”she sing-songs.

A cold blast of air whooshes past her. Rarity turns around and sees a door made out of frost and ice creak open. The brightness of the light outside makes it hard for her to make anything out. She trots forward to the door and stands at the threshold. The light is still too bright. Scary. There's nothing she can see. Nothing she can hear either. Just hateful, harsh light attacking her eyes.

Rarity needs to shake fear right out of her coat. Her horn alights and she pulls Kairos from the floor to float by her side.

She can do anything if she puts her mind to it!

Rarity steps outside and the light changes around her. Once the light lessens, she make out a burned down forest to her left and a large, imposing hellish figure standing in front of her. The creature doesn't even stop after the first swing.

It doesn't hurt, the claws ripping into her hide, but the blood is everywhere. She screams until the monster crushes her throat.

When she wakes up again, Kairos is trilling soft sounds at her, soothing her heart.

“What more should I expect from a magic sword from a dead god... or better yet an echo as he called himself.” Lilies surround her as she lays in a field of them and their smell is unpleasant. They should smell sweetly, not of blood and foulness. Not sour like pungent two-week old daisy sandwiches. And that's only putting it lightly.

For a moment, she is afraid that odor is coming from her and checks her body. She's fine. Memoria must of fixed her and might be very displeased with her but who cares. She's the one who has to get through this weird place. Alone, for the most of it. Rarity takes in a deep breath and stands up, she hopes he's okay.

But she's just lost a memory. That's serious!

What could she have forgotten? The sword is called Kairos. There's a pony in the mirror named Memoria. Monsters are bad. Normal mirrors are bad. Place is bad. Her name is Rarity. She has a younger sister called Sweetie Belle and she has four very good friends.

Twilight Sparkle. Rainbow Dash. Pinkie Pie. Applejack.

Hmm, maybe she forgot something unimportant?