Discolored

by TheTraxicEnd

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 9630

Twilight Sparkle realizes just how life threatening a spell can really be.

Spell casting is a dangerous skill according to most experts. They tell you to be cautious when doing even the simplest of spells.

Twilight knows this all too well. She has studied the side effects of spellcasting and what it can do, but what she is not aware of all the side effects and how they play on an user after being overexposed to its toxic radiation.

For Twilight, she opens up a new door to her life, one that she never thought existed. For Rarity, it opens another door, one that she wishes she never opened.

Inspired by the photo by the-loony-hatter. Thank you for making such great art! You inspired me to write a story about your picture. It is recolored to fit how I felt when I saw it. All credit for the cover art goes to him.

Also, huge thanks to Derpator. You made this story read ten times better with your editing skills. Also, automatic door. Remember.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-05-05 20:09:05 UTC

Blank

Twilight Sparkle sat on her chair, reading the Foal Free Press's latest breaking news article while drinking a nice pipping cup of hot cocoa.

An End of Harmony?

Today, Rarity, a local fashionista and an Element of Harmony has been found unconscious in her home. According to her friend, Fluttershy, she found Rarity's body laying slouched beside her couch. After rushing her to the Ponyville Clinic, Fluttershy told the Foal Free Press that Rarity's status was unknown and doctors are currently operating on her. We hope that she will be all right. We'll give you more on her story as more information is brought to our attention.

Twilight couldn't believe her eyes.

"Rarity?"

Twilight gazed at the door, imagining its crystal sheen being replaced by the door of yesteryear.

Then, a flash.

She appeared at Twilight's door.

"Rarity!"

The shout echoed through the cold, empty room. Twilight heard herself again and again. Nothing could be worse.

Except Rarity.

In seconds, Twilight sprung to her hooves and galloped out of her throne room. She needed to get to the clinic, and fast.

All the while, the paper floated gently to the ground, landing in a heap of text and luster.

Inside the white room lay a white unicorn whose horn was wrapped in a prison of white and fluff. Her purple irises twinkled brightly in the gentle yellow hue that shined above her. Below her body stood the mobile metal comfort. It supported her and made her rest easy from the dangerous condition she had undergone. In all her life, she had never been effected by her own spells. She had heard of a designer in Canterlot who had died while sewing the final stitch on a black dress the artist was commissioned to make, but it was thought that they perished from age, not of spellcasting radiation. Yet, here Rarity was, laid gently on her new resting place.

Outside her room was where the action was happening. Lightning of various sizes decorated the harsh sky, while their frequencies boomed loudly for all to hear, ravaging the once calm landscape with strikes of electricity. It colored the dark skies with flashes of yellow and white, while the black and grey clouds drew an unfortunate, gloomy image in her mind. Rarity had left Sweetie Belle, her lovely little sister, at home while the storms took over. It was a mistake on Rarity's part that she couldn't help but commit; her body wasn't in the shape to bring her dear sister with. Rarity's mind clouded her other worries with Sweetie Belle's frightened gaze, huddled underneath the kitchen table. In her forehooves laid her doll, Mr. Whiskers, whose furry brown coat and bright smile differed from Opalescence's furious gaze, yet hard to read face. It worried her not only of Sweetie's safety from the storm, but also the safety from the living cat. That cat could scratch anypony if they weren't careful.

Sadly Rarity could only watch the sky boom and the machines croon their songs of death and misery. Her bed kept her still, while her horn was encompassed in gauze.

After staring out beyond the clouds for so long, Rarity heard a click come from her room's door. Her ears sprang up at the sound. Whoever was opening up the door had a shaky grip. Either that, or the door needed a tune up. She might have to ask them to oil that. Any rattling noise irked her like the plague.

"Miss Rarity, I presume?" called the unwelcomed guest.

"Yes, may I ask who?"

The light shined on the newcomer's attire: a bright white that was smeared with the blood from another. She shifted her attention to the pony who wore such a travesty, face stained with the same blood. The pony was a nurse, whose pink hair poked just barely out of her small cap. "Hello, Rarity, my name is Nurse Redheart." A pause and a slight adjustment of the cap later, she continued, "I am here to check on your horn..."

For a second, the nurse moved towards her bed. However, she stopped, much to Rarity's surprise. Redheart's muzzle scrunched up before she spoke, "I will be right back."

Nurse Redheart then promptly exited the room, leaving Rarity to her thoughts.

What the hay was that?

Twilight rushed through the clinic's glass doors, letting them smack against the doorstops. "Rarity!"

The room was dark, save for a few flecks of precious yellow lights. In the center of the room was a wooden kiosk, painted red and white. Its surface was bare, except for the pad of paper that was perfectly aligned with its chair. The rest was what Twilight expected of a normal clinic: chairs and small tables complimented the open space, while paintings decorated their white walls. Although all these items were present, their purpose of comfort and glimmer did not soothe Twilight's rapidly beating heart. Her blood boiled within her body as the sight of nopony led her heart to the path of misery and despair. Her mind bled profusely the last time she had seen Rarity: her smile, her bouncing mane, her talent of creating the best attire in Equestria--Twilight knew Rarity well. Rarity knew her well too, or so Twilight hoped.

Twilight raised her hoof to the help desk and rung the bell. It crooned its fateful tune, but to her chagrin, the bell's eerie tones echoed without a response. She rung it again.

Ding

The bell played its sweet song.

No response.

Curious, Twilight looked around again. "Where is everypony?" she said.

Like the bell's toll, so did her voice.

She frowned.

And like the bell, no one responded.

The nurse hadn't returned since her sudden departure from her room.

Rarity grew worried, much like her worry for her little sister. Although, her mind couldn't help but picture the nurse in a darker setting: smirked, looming over her patient, cutting open their body with a knife--she shook her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. There was no need for her to fret over the care of another, let alone a care of a professional. Not to mention that her sister was way more important than a devious-looking nurse. Besides, her mind was in a darker place, much like when she sews: how she notices the needle strike every portion of the fabric. She imagined sewing to be like nursing, except much more difficult. It wasn't an art then, it was a necessity.

But to Rarity, they were both making art. One that bled blood, and one that bled creativity.

She sighed. If only the universe hadn't tainted her with this white noise. Ever since she thought of the Boutique, her entire mind could not settle down. Something was blocking her from remembering something.

More importantly, somepony...

"Hello, Miss Rarity!" chirped a familiar voice.

Rarity looked up at her guest. "Hello, Nurse Redheart."

Her previous view of the nurse changed immediately. Her white--and now pristine--uniform glistened in the light. It was free from the vile blood that sent Rarity's stomach in a twist. Instead, Nurse Redheart was free from its dreadful red hues. Her bun was contained in her cap, not a single pink strand of hair sticking out. The little apron she wore was branded with a red cross.

"May I check your horn?"

Rarity noticed Redheart's eyes. They were wonderful.

"Yes..."

Redheart smiled. "Don't worry, it's just a checkup." A pause. "I had to clean up from my last patient; he was a nice guy."

Rarity raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"He was dreamy," she began, a goofy smile gracing her face. "He had a smile that gave me the chills! Oh! he had my heart more so than any stallion..."

Another pause.

"But the doctors are having problems with him," Redheart continued. "His eyes were beginning to roll when I left. I'm not sure if he is going to be fine." A flash of lightning gave light to her face. "The doctor's didn't want me to weep over their patient again. They think I'd give his body an infection."

"Sounds like he is charming..." Rarity gave her a slight smile. "If only I met a stallion like that." She felt some pressure loosen from her horn. "Do they have more of them in Ponyville?" A piece of white frill danced in front of her eyes. "Or was he the only one?"

Redheart laughed. "If there was, you wouldn't hear it from me. I'd be pursuing him faster than any mare."

Rarity tried to grin, but a slight pinch on her horn halted her smile. "T-Touché."

"Sorry about that, your horn was snagged on the gauze," Redheart said.

Rarity waved her hoof dismissively. "It's alright, Nurse Redheart." A pause. "My horn must be simply awful right now."

Redheart frowned. "Don't sell your horn so short." Another pinch on her horn. "Oops, again." The fabric fell to the floor. "Your horn is looking better than before..." Redheart cringed. "It wasn't a pretty sight then."

Rarity raised an eyebrow. "How bad is it?"

Redheart sighed. "You... lost a fourth of your horn, Rarity." She bit her lower lip. "We can't add more on..."

Rarity froze. "I..." She quickly threw off her blanket that concealed the rest of her body. Her eyes were drawn to her flank, and there was the horror she did not want to see.

Blank.

Hunch

Twilight sighed. Another dead end. She had searched the entire clinic, and every twist, turn, and prolonged path led to nothing but darkness, silence, and a new disharmony to smell: mold. All around, the cracks of the tiles on the floor were black as night, while the white tiles glowed in the dark. They were the only way Twilight could tell where she was walking. Her hooves clip-clopped to the sounds of intense flickering from the broken fixtures above. She looked head on, defiant as can be. She was confident, despite the lack of employees and cleanliness, that her hunch was correct: Rarity was still here.

"Rarity!" she called, her voice echoing down the hollow beast.

Twilight's voice was the only reply.

Twilight's muzzle twitched. "It's five-thirty..." A pause. "There can't be no pony here."

She slowly walked down the path of doom.

I hope I'm right...

As she walked, Twilight imagined how Rarity would be in her hospital bed: alone, terrified, blood gushing from her hea--no, Rarity did not lose her horn. No, no, Rarity did not.

"Rarity!"

Twilight stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Another gauze... two--"

"I-Is anypony there?" Twilight shakily asked. She heard a new noise, her ears twitching in response.

"Leave the... she'll be..."

The alien sound made her ears stand upright. The eerie faintness of its voice had made her warm blood turn cold. Whoever it was was distressed about something; she could feel its intensity run through her veins. "Hello?"

"Rarity... condition!"

"Rarity?"

Down the hall, a door suddenly swung open. Twilight jolted as the door smacked against its frame before slowly creaking to a close with a loud click. It rung proudly in her ears.

At that moment, Twilight knew what she had to do.

She had to get into that room.

Light wore through the curtains. After Rarity's sudden outburst, Nurse Redheart had no idea what to do with the poor mare. Rarity's horn, fragmented by the illusion that magic had unlimited use, now had been worn at the tip to a calm crescent instead of a normal sharp cusp. She...

Nurse Redheart opened the door to Rarity's room with a kit in her maw. She sat it down beside Rarity's bedside, while she gazed at the aftermath of the operation: the dried blood stained her once loving coat, the stitches criss-crossed and met directly underneath her horn, which had not been damaged since her last outburst, and--are those tears?

She quietly watched her patient as small little droplets slowly slid down that now tarnished cheek. Those eyes were closed tightly, and her subtle whimpers did not help Redheart's own waters. They were going to flow soon, releasing that infection once again.

"Rarity..." Redheart's hoof slowly reached for a glove. "If only you knew what a spell could do to you."

A pin dropped and a sudden click made Redheart drop her sad sob story. She turned, less eloquently than a talk host, and spotted her co-worker towering above her. "Yes?"

It was Nurse Tenderheart, her third cousin twice removed. "Red..." A blue hoof swiveled onto Redheart's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." A tear trickled down her cheek. "I'm fine." Nurse Redheart wiped away the infection from her face. "It's just another day at the office, t-that's all." Shoot, I stuttered!

Tenderheart smirked. "So, mind telling me why you were crying?"

Redheart could feel her heart stop. "I..." She turned to Rarity. "See for yourself."

Tenderheart raised an eyebrow and passed by Redheart, leaving her to her emotionally charged thoughts. However, it wasn't long before Tenderheart understood the situation. Her once innocent, pristine blue cheek was matted with the liquid pain of seeing a shortened horn, a matching tear streak staining it for hours to come. "I-I see what you saw," she said, before leaving the room.

Redheart sighed. Another split, another disease. It was all the same. All the same, except for Rarity.

Twilight stood in front of the large oak door. It wasn't like all the other doors: a smaller brown door with an even smaller glass center. No, this door had no glass and only a small brass knob. It was free from the bark the other doors had and it wore a shiny copper plated sign that was directly on the center of it. The sign read "For Special Patients" in a light grey ink, which made Twilight promptly groan. Although Rarity was a bit dramatic, there was no reason to label her as special. Really? Special? A shiver raced down her spine. What type of cruel pony made sure to label them as special?

She took a deep breath and let herself be free from thought. With the confidence of many, she gripped the knob, turned it to the left, stepped back, and slowly opened the door. She carefully crept her head around the corner and saw the devastation that laid on the bed.

Or, for a lack of a better term, was on the bed.

"Rarity?"

Inside, a musky, abhorrent scent filled her nostrils. It made Twilight cough, and her nose tingle. "She's not here," she murmured, and took in the room's essence. Inside it was a grey fill, color being thrown into disarray. The grey sheets, pillows; even the small desk beside the bed was grey, yet, on the bed was something odd. Something different.

"What's this?" Twilight asked, tilting her head to the side. She carefully used her magic to get a better look at her discovery. Yet, it wasn't just one discovery. Two--no, three light blue diamonds levitated in a triangle in her purple aura, trapped in her grasp. She looked at them in awe, astounded by their glitter and chic. They looked real to the naked eye, but something felt off when she touched them. They were dull, cold, and lifeless.

Twilight gazed at the sheets and gasped. There, where she pulled the diamonds from, was blood. Red as can be. It appealed to her eyes. Yet, like the diamonds, there were only three little drops that tinted the sheets.

"What happened here?" Twilight said as she continued to search the immediate area. Not finding anything but grey, she turned towards the door. However, a ghostly feeling grazed her face, and shattered the fixture above her. Tiny bits of glass rained down upon her, making her gasp. She froze as the pieces cut her. She shielded her face with her hooves, blocking the one thing she did need: sight. Sight of what was in front of her.

Twilight slowly removed her hooves from her face, and when she looked at the door, she saw a pony who she knew well. Knew so much that the sight of her made her shriek in terror.

It was Rarity, eyes wide too.

"Rarity!"

She didn't react.

"Rarity?"

Not even a smidge.

"Rarity!"

She disappeared abruptly from Twilight's sight, but not forever; Twilight would remember that face of shock. It scared her, plagued her. She knew, right at that moment, that she'd be tossing and turning tonight.

Twilight quickly bolted out the room, her focus honed in on her brand new project.

Project: Find Rarity.

Rarity's Dilemma

Rarity didn't know what happened.

One moment she was knocked out cold, whisked away in dreamland with her prince charming. Now she was wide awake with an unwelcomed sensation near her flank. It was what made her toss the sheets away from her and well, her dreams didn't exactly mirror her shock.

Rarity bit her lip and yelped as the feeling rubbed against a particular spot on her flank. "W-What is happening to me?"

A punctuated moan that reverberated throughout the room told the tale. Rarity blushed and crossed her hooves in front of her flank. There was no pony to see her,  yet she covered herself. Hid from the shame of being rubbed the wrong way.

She sighed and hoisted the sheets over her burning body. It felt like she was experiencing an unpleasant visit to the spa, fire scorching every part of her body. Another yelp. Another moan. She couldn't deal with it; it's eating her alive.

Rarity's eyes darted to the right and spotted her savior: a small, red button with the word of need painted in white. It rested upon her sturdy oak nightstand, standing in the light for all to see. Without a second to spare, Rarity bashed it with her hoof. The impact of her hoof bashing the button felt highly intoxicating, an addicting sensation that made her feel like she was floating with the many stars in the galaxy while in complete ecstasy. As she floated among the stars, a mystical touch made its presence known. It placed something on her head, but she did not know what, her eyes were closed at the touch gently grazed her cheek. She felt the presence stay for long, searing its truth upon her head. She thought she was adorning some kind of bright white halo that was given to her by the being who sanctified her life.

That thought was shattered when an alarm echoed in the hallway. It destroyed the illusion of her stars. Instead, they crash landed near her lower half and began to burn her. The fire inside her, however, was nothing like before. It was a more, powerful burning passion that resided in her soul. It tempted her to scream for help, yet made her feel like she was on top of the world. Its startling presence clung to her flank with incredible strength, which made her release another throaty moan.

Unfortunately for Rarity, she hadn't heard Nurse Redheart's entrance. The door slowly clicked to a close, making Rarity pause in mid-moan, her face flushed. Nurse Redheart couldn't help but blush at the scene. She luckily maintained her composure after she gulped what little shock remained. She put on her best smile for Rarity and asked Rarity about her sudden "problem".

Rarity grimaced as she heard Redheart's question. "M-My..." A presumptuous pause. "posterior is burning up." She bit her lip once again. "I-I can't bear the heat!"

Redheart's face blushed at the declaration. "You... can't bear the heat?"

"Oh, Nurse Redheart! It's burning me!" An exaggerated hold of a note and a sudden gasp of air later, Rarity continued, "I need s-something to stop it." She let out another moan.

Redheart did not know what to do. Rarity was convulsing, letting out moans, and doing all the sorts of things she thought would not come to someone like her. All she could do was stare on, which prompted Rarity to tilt her head. "Nurse...?"

Redheart shook her head and raised her right hoof in Rarity's direction. She, then, calmly said, "Don't worry, I am going to talk with Doctor Stable. He'll know what you would need."

Rarity nodded. "Thank you, N-Nurse Redheart."

Redheart smiled and gave Rarity her regards before promptly leaving the room, her cap pressed tightly against her head.

Rarity sighed.

She only wanted this to happen when she was with the love of her life, not at a hospital alone.

Redheart slowly walked down the hall, its bright white lights shining on her neck. It made her break a sweat, the unbearable conditions of the hospital were starting to get to her. There wasn't a fan or magical air conditioner in the building, but rather a pony who was paid by the hoof of the manager to commit their time to fanning the nurses and doctors. Ideally, the idea of having somepony fanning her down was great, but it was so annoying to deal with somepony who can't keep themselves from entering her conversations.

At this moment, Redheart was coming to an intersection: a cross between more filled rooms, and the offices of the doctors. Her cooperating doctor, Dr. Stable, had his office down at the end of the hallway with his label of "Dr. Howard Stable" printed in jet black ink. She shook her head and reluctantly walked down the hall to his office. She stopped just in front of the door, her hoof beginning to raise to the height of the sign, when suddenly, Dr. Stable, in his usual white medical garment that presented his name in the largest letters possible on the largest name tag the clinic staff could muster, had opened the door and stood in front of her, puzzled. She faltered slightly at his sudden appearance. His swept back brown mane and tail shocked her. She hadn't seen that look in a while. A long while.

He must have known her coming.

"So," Dr. Stable said. "You wanted to ask me something?"

Bingo.

She nodded and asked to step into his office.

"Why, of course, Nurse Redheart!" he exclaimed. "There's no reason why I should not!"

He beckoned her into his office, which she gratefully entered while eyeballing his oddly shaped tuff of chest hair. It curled in her mind in the oddest of directions. She didn't understand physics whenever she looked at Dr. Stable. In fact, it never made sense to her as to why his chest hair twisted to the right just a bit too much. Yet, that wasn't her only problem with him.

"Nurse Redheart?"

Redheart gazed at Dr. Stable's head dumbfoundly. "Y-Yes?"

Doctor Stable let out a chuckle. "Don't be so tense, we're both friends here!" He paused to wipe his glasses. "I only heard of your problem by a passing dove."

"A passing dove?" Redheart asked.

He nodded. "Right! A dove! Or so I thought."

She glared at him. "Or so you thought?"

"She was a symbol of a dove. I didn't even speak with her, but I saw her walking down the corridor. Almost beside you, in fact. She was the sweetest shade of violet, but she quickly turned white and so very bright that I almost became blind." He placed his glasses back where they may remain. "Is this the problem?"

If you count deliriousness and flank rubbing as angelic, then yes, that is the problem. Redheart shook her head.

"Then what is it, nurse?"

Nurse Redheart sighed. "It was about your patient, Miss Rarity. She--"

"Ah!" he rudely interrupted. "I remember that mare. She was in a state of unknowing passion, her eyes closed shut in complete sanctity." He smiled. "Oh, I think she's well. Or so we have last spoken of her." He gazed at the many things on his desk. "Say, do we still have her status as "somewhat stable"?

Nurse Redheart facehooved. "Doctor Stable, it is not of her status. Right now, she needs you to recommend her some medication to stop her pain."

Eyebrow raised, Doctor Stable replied, "Why had this medication been even thought of?" He shoved a few papers on his desk into a vanilla folder. "I thought she wasn't prescribed medication, only therapy."

"That was before this situation of, ugh, moaning had occurred."

Doctor Stable gasped. "Moaning?" His mouth was agape. "Are you saying she's in heat?"

Redheart blushed. "I'm n-not sure, Doctor."

The room became silent as Doctor Stable turned to his desk and grabbed his patient's file. He opened it and scanned it thoroughly, his eyes rapidly moving down the page. Gripping the folder tightly, Doctor Stable quickly thrust the folder to the side, holding the important contents in his hoof. He carefully clipped them on a clipboard and gazed at Nurse Redheart. "Nurse, let us embark on this lewd adventure," he said, before rushing out the door.

"Right behind yo--" She paused, her eyes widening. "Wait, lewd adventure?" she shouted while checking her hair-bun. After her bun was fixed, she galloped after her doctor. Ensuring proper hair-bun placement was procedure, after all. A procedure that she would like to forget.

Twilight Sparkle had bolted out the clinic, her mind reeling from what she saw. She had to go home; she needed to find some solace in a place away from there.

A slight breeze graced the exit of the clinic. Outside was a beautiful setting, where Ponyville glistened in the bright sunshine. Yet, behind her was a contrast. The clinic was black, dark, moldy, and a place of death. She didn't know it was in this bad of a condition, otherwise she would have condemned the facility and restarted it anew.

"I must report to Celestia about this," Twilight murmured. "But what would she say?"

She continued her way along the path, going further and further towards her home. "Would she think it's ridiculous?"

The breeze grew in intensity. "Would I be wasting my time?"

It became a storm inside her mind. "Would I be alone in finding Rarity?"

The storm broke loose.

"Am I... alone?"

It began to pour.

Raindrops matted her fur, discoloring its once precious hue. She was once full of motivation to go visit Rarity, but after starting her journey to find her dear friend, Twilight's mind was already wanting to opt out. Yet, she knew she couldn't. For starters, Rainbow Dash would yell at her for giving up on her friends. Twilight knew she could never do that. Not even in a million years would think of leaving her friends behind.

Twilight also knew that her mind wouldn't let her rest. Rarity was a really good friend, and she couldn't simply standby while her friend disappears. Her other friends would agree with her on this; they'd stand up for Rarity too. It's like a domino effect with their group. She was glad that it existed.

Yet the weather did not make her feel motivated. The rain was still pouring, her mind was floored by the clouds' diamond pattern, and she swore she could feel her tears mixing with the natural spring rainwater. She truly felt alone in this weather. Alone in the water.

Twilight only wished she could see Rarity instead of being lied to by the papers. If only she could turn back time... just for her.

Resolve

She had searched every book in her library.

It was clear, Twilight thought, her mind drifting to the large book in her hooves that was open just as wide as her eyes, that there was no book in Equestria that could logically and empirically describe her situation. It was like a nightmare, safely put, her eyes now drifting to the outside world. It was normal, she thought, normal from that empty clinic. She knew something had to have happened there. No medical staff just suddenly decides to take a collective leave like that. Plus the mold, those flickering, damaged lights, those doors opening and closing randomly, and...

"...those three crystals. They were in a triangle, all diamonds." She remembered them. "In the grey of the sheets," she murmured, pacing back and forth between the large bookcase to her right, and the coffee table to her left, which still had her hot cocoa she had left resting on its wooden surface. She stopped her pacing and cracked a smile.  She levitated the cup to her mouth and took a sip of its contents.

It was cold, distant; just like Rarity, gone.

She stood still. Even in her own home, far away from the clinic, there was a haunting sense of distance from Twilight and her friend that she couldn't escape. Twilight couldn't do anything but embrace the harmful distance.

So she did. She hugged the cup tight before resting it on the table again. Bolting out of the library, Twilight ran to the town square. She had to visit somepony. A friend...

...who lives in a cottage just up the way.

The medicine had worn off again.

She gripped the bed sheets tightly with her hooves. Her head rested gently on the pillows, but her gaze looked frantic, eyes honed in on the end of her bed. Bars tall and thin stood there, taunting her. She could feel their stares upon her, their silent laughs echoing in her brain. They were laughing at her for moaning in a clinic. Uncontrollably moaning to something she couldn't see, taste, smell, touch--the sensations were something else, but they were all gone. Gone like the wind.

Just like her life, her dresses, her business--

Rarity groaned. "Focus!" she scolded herself. "You'll be out of here soon!"

She wished it was true, but the remaining horn on her head didn't tickle and Nurse Redheart and Doctor Stable still couldn't figure out what happened to her. She remembered their conversation while she laid helplessly in Nurse Redheart's grasp. She was unable to see due to the bandages covering her. Their words...

"Leave the gauze on, Red."

"Yes, Doctor."

The sounds of shuffling, ruffling, and scooting around her made Rarity want to rip the bandages off. She couldn't see a thing.

"So, Doctor..." A pause. "What do you think?"

A grumble and a shiver-inducing hum was all to be heard.

Then, he spoke, "She'll be fine. If she needs another gauze or--no, two gauze, then do so."

"Alright, Doctor." Rarity felt some pressure on her head as Nurse Redheart continued to talk, "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"You didn't answer my question."

He gasped. "I thought I did? You had asked me what I thought, and so I gave you my--"

"Oh, quiet. That was not the only thing I had asked." A pause. "I wanted to know what you thought of Rarity, but in the sense of her full condition."

Rarity heard him gasp again. He had better, if it wasn't for her weak state, she would have slapped him. "We stallions are dense."

"Clearly." Rarity hoped that Nurse Redheart gave him an eyeroll. "So...?"

He sighed. "Her horn is never going to grow," he began, the words bouncing in Rarity's eardrums. "But the marks... well, they're a mystery."

"A mystery?" Rarity chimed in.

Nusre Redheart rubbed against Rarity's cheek with her hoof. "Don't worry, Rarity. He's just a bit too poetic for any normal doctor."

"That's why they call me the Unstable Stable! They wanted an oxymoron or something,"

She growled at him. "You're not a moron, Doctor."

"I know," he said lamely. "I know..."

Silence reigned for a few moments. They worked diligently. Nurse Redheart was smoothing out the gauze on Rarity's skin (Rarity assumed this) while the doctor prepared for her physical. "Did you see the hoofball game last night?" Nurse Redheart suddenly asked. She must be trying to raise his spirits, Rarity thought.

Rarity heard the doctor's gruff laugh. "Of course! Greatest game all season for the Ponyville Risers!" Shuffling of vials, glass clinking against each other. "I wish I got to see the first half! Apparently Slip Stream derailed the Flyers streak!"

Rarity thought of hoofball: the tense matches where the ball travels into the goal with such grace--she wanted to play that sport so she could say she scored a goal before the goalie could even react.

"So she did!" Nurse Redheart replied cheerfully. "Slid and knocked the ball right out of her possession!" She giggled.

"Although Slip Stream got injured right after..." Doctor Stable sounded hurt, his voice wavering slightly. "It might end her career..."

Rarity felt that pressure, and it hurt *a lot*. "She'll be all right, Doctor. Besides, her trainers and doctors are top notch, they'll fix her."

He sighed. "I guess you're right."

They were silent once again, both working vigilantly on Rarity, whose mind felt like Pinkie Pie was pouncing on it. "N-Nurse," Rarity said through a grimace. "May I ask you something?"

She felt hooves wrap around her neck; pressure there too. "Yes?"

A shock ran through Rarity's body as she spoke to Nurse Redheart. "When will I be gettin--ack!"

"Rarity!" the voice shouted. Rarity was unsure of who it was now, the voice caught between two mediums. "Doctor! Rarity's condition, she's go--I'll--find you!"

Suddenly, the world turned black.

That was all Rarity remembered.

The voice, it did sound different, but she couldn't think about it at the time, nor could she have remembered it. Instead, her mind was focused on everyone else before she thought of herself. Of that conversation.

Is she going insane?, she thought, giving her full attention to her hoof. It was round, a perfect circle edged on the inside. She brought her other hoof to meet, clopping the two together. It was perfect. Just like Rarity.

Or was she perfect? She didn't know anymore, her mind was playing tricks on her.

Maybe she should go see a friend--one on a hill. To the spa, maybe?

If only she was free from the constraints of her bandages, had her fully grown horn and a--

She gasped and flung the covers off her body. She checked her flanks.

Still blank.

It was still nearing night's last embrace. The moon was at its highest peak. Twilight hoped Fluttershy hadn't gone to bed yet. She needed somepony to talk to about Rarity, and Fluttershy was a very good listener. Not to mention that she was the one who found Rarity first. Fluttershy must know where Rarity is.

Twilight galloped to the top of the hill. From afar, Fluttershy's cottage looked normal: lit dimly by the sheer might of her three oil lamps. The lamps cast a yellow hue against the gentle peach exterior of the home. Around it though was dark. The grass of the hill seemed less green than usual. It still felt like the beginnings of Spring, but without the snow. Just cold, destructive winds that snap and break the blades of life.

She peered into the cottage. No lights were on, except a dim lamp in a corner. It was too dark to see what the interior looked like. The lamp disguised the rooms well, leaving Twilight no choice but to spare a knock. She knocked once, twice, thrice even. The reply staggered, echoing in the house. She knew so, a clip clop or two were her reply. She put her ear to the door. They grew louder those hoofsteps did, so Twilight stepped back and politely raised a smile that could not be denied.

In mere seconds, the door that blocked her path creaked open. An eye appeared from the inside of a dark cottage. She knew that eye. She knew it well.

"Fluttershy, did I wake you?" Twilight asked.

The door swung open freely, showing her dear friend. "Oh, no! I was just tending to the animals... sort of."

Weird, she doesn't break off like that, Twilight thought, eyeing her friend's shady appearance momentarily. She brought her gaze to those eyes again. She was glad to see them. "May I come in? I need to talk to you about our friend."

Fluttershy's demeanor shocked Twilight as Fluttershy gave her a gentle nod and wordlessly stepped away from the doorway, waiting for her to walk in. It wasn't like her to be so quiet, Twilight thought but then dismissed it just like the shady appearance, momentarily. A friend like her being quiet? That was normal in every reich, but for some reason, this view of her made Twilight a bit uncomfortable. She didn't like things to be unusual. Unexpected, yes, those moments were great; they brought about curiosity, a desire she needed to quench her thirst. But this was not her cup of cocoa. She didn't like it being so cold and distant.

So she walked into the cottage, letting the door smack against the door frame.

Fluttershy

The atmosphere in the room made Twilight shift in her seat.

Fluttershy's cottage was not like it was when Twilight last visited. Three days ago: the floors were clean; the cabinet near the door was green and proud; the fireplace was clean, pots were settled just outside the flames stone haven; and the tables were filled with vases, bringing color to the room. Now, as Twilight saw it, the room was grey. Light fixtures around them were cracked; the fireplace was smoldering, but Twilight knew it was going to be gone soon; the pots were torn apart, laying against the stone haven--there wasn't a single thing in order: vases scattered and shattered on the floor, soot finding residency on once beautiful cabin-like walls, and local infestors took their time to eat away at the floors once great glow. Twilight couldn't bear to sit in her chair without imagining those bugs crawling on her, biting her, eating her. She... she wanted to leave as soon as she saw them, but rest assured, she told herself, she was here for Fluttershy. Twilight needed to talk to her.

So she sat there, shifting uncomfortably in her seat while Fluttershy, who she thought would be looking at her, was paying attention to Angel, whose appearance looked grim: red cheeks, runny nose, ears splayed against his skull, and his eyes--she knew something was wrong here--were bloodshot, but they were not red. No, Twilight thought, looking away to wonder how the lines in eyes were that color.

They were blue.

"So," Fluttershy began, knocking Twilight out her frightened phase. "What seems to be the problem?"

Twilight looked down for a moment and brought her hooves to the forefront. She twiddled with them, like a mare who is nervous at her first interview. "Have you seen Rarity?"

Twilight watched as Fluttershy rested the little demon--no, bunny, Twilight corrected herself, on the table. "She's... fine," Fluttershy said, looking over at her bunny again, before turning her attention to Twilight. "Why do you ask?"

Should she tell her? The question echoed in Twilight's mind. While she thought of what to say, Twilight watched Fluttershy's mane slowly move--perhaps a fan?--she did not know what to say. So, she threw out her cards and began to tell her story, "Well, Fluttershy, I have been seeing things differently and I don't know who else I could turn to at this hour..."

"Seeing things?" Fluttershy asked with a raised eyebrow. "Are you sick too, Twilight?"

Sick?, Twilight thought. There's no way she could be sick, could she? "I'm not sick, but thank you for asking." She saw Fluttershy's eyebrow lower in an instant. "It's just... You know where they have her?"

Fluttershy nodded. "In the clinic at the special patients hall, last one on the right?"

"Right..." Twilight couldn't believe what she heard. The exact room? She must've been in there with Rarity. "Were you in there with her?"

Once again, another nod, but one that looked unsure enough that the cocoa resting inside Twilight's body gurgled and raised slightly in her throat. "She was asleep when I came in, and when she hurt herself, she was completely unconscious," Fluttershy softly answered.

Twilight gulped, letting the acid leave behind that dreaded aftertaste. "So she never saw nor spoke with you?"

She shook her head. "She didn't speak directly to me, but when she was asleep... I heard her."

"What did she say?"

Twilight saw her friend's sudden twitch. It was... different, a rather possessive twitch, one that Twilight knew she saw in the movies, but she never would have guessed to see it in real time. Not to mention that her mentor had dealt with possession before because of Luna's once prevalent alter ego's possessive nature. But Fluttershy's was different. It was trying to break through her, not into her. "Did you hear me?"

Twilight was suddenly shocked out of her stupor again. "I'm sorry, Fluttershy, my head was in the clouds..."

"It's okay, Twilight," she said kindly. "Can you... please, pay attention?"

Twilight nodded meekly. She watched her friend put her hooves on the table. "She said--you know what? What she said was not important. Look, Twilight. Rarity... she can't remember how she got her cutie mark."

Twilight couldn't think. All she could do is stare with her eyes wide, tears feeling its way to her eyes. "W-Why?"

Fluttershy looked away. "I don't know, the doctors don't know why her condition is so bad." The bunny on the table shifted just slightly. "Her horn isn't as big as it used to be..."

"Did it shrink?!" Twilight blurted out, earning her a glare from Fluttershy. "Sorry..."

"To answer your question," Fluttershy began, her glare dissolving through the words she spoke. "No, it didn't. When I saw her on the ground, the other part--hold on, are you squeamish?"

Twilight shook her head. "What happened to her, Fluttershy?"

She stared blankly at Twilight, her eyes vacant of any kindness. "Her horn had snapped in two, Twilight. Snapped right in two..."

Twilight couldn't feel. All she knew was that when a horn was snapped, a unicorn would never be able to cast spells the same. It would be difficult, ten times harder than usual, and the relationships they had built in their family would be thrown into the ashes of their other half, while the remaining horn stayed on their head as an eyesore for other ponies to judge and curse her for. Poor Rarity, her career--no, don't think like that--her family--how would they react to her horn?--her life--it would not be easy for her, Twilight thought, wishing this nightmare never happened. She looked up, meeting that gaze again, and Twilight said, "It's still on her head?"

"You mean the horn?" Fluttershy asked. Seeing Twilight's reluctant nod, Fluttershy continued, "Yes. They were going to do surgery to try and save it..."

"Save it?" Twilight impulsively responded. "What do you mean?"

Twilight saw her. There was a tear, just one, gliding down her cheek. "The rest of her horn... It's... jagged."

"Jagged?" Twilight's thoughts returned to that image: an eyesore cursed by the ponies. "You mean...?"

"What do you think I mean!" Fluttershy shouted, her voice wavering and her tears coming out in an abundance that Twilight would not even imagine come from Fluttershy. Every tear made that kind body quake. "Her life as a fashionista that we all know and love is gone!"

"That isn't true--"

Fluttershy suddenly stood up, her chair moving back slightly. "How would you know? I--" Fluttershy's sudden aggressiveness slunk back in its seat. "I'm sorry, Twilight. This whole situation has got me a bit tense..." She cast her hoof to the rest of the room. "Just like the house... I'm--it hurts, Twilight. It hurts."

Twilight got up from her chair and stood beside Fluttershy. Looking into her eyes, Twilight saw that vacancy change to hurt, pain, a shattered, broken heart beating every so often before fading into the dark shadows of stress and anxiety. Without a moment to spare, Twilight wrapped her wings around Fluttershy and pulled her close. "Then let's make that hurt go away, Fluttershy."

And with one, pain-staking wail, Fluttershy wept.

And so did Twilight.

Nurse Redheart had walked into the room and watched as her patient, Miss Rarity, laid in her bed, resting calmly. However, what made her stay still wasn't the sleeping beauty, but rather what was on her head. Her horn, which was once fabricated to be smooth and pointed, now...

It wasn't pointed anymore.

It was jagged. Again, just like before the surgery.

Without a word or scream of surprise, Nurse Redheart bolted out of the room, heading to Doctor Stable's office once again.

1

The lights inside were dim. They were casting a perfect shadow on a lone figure whose hooves rested upon a powerful demon. Its loud roars overpowered the wrath of mother nature, her anxious hooves pounding on the door, begging to be seen by the figure. Just outside the door was a small sign. It was being tossed and turned in the wind, which was a distinct contrast to the soft pitter-patter of raindrops showering the figure's window. Those raindrops washed away the tears of yesteryear. She, the figure, stood at a silhouette of her desk, holding the demon tight while she worked diligently on a little piece of love. The demon whirred, a sudden bit of concentration surged, and the task at hoof became nothing but an everyday occurrence. Before her demon left its final few marks, a sudden loud crack made its presence known, disrupting her harmony. In an instant, the machine's whir had increased; the aura, black and all, began to expand; and before she could move a single step to see who had called her at the door, she fell and then...

...silence. The whirs came to a slow but gentle halt.

Cursed

Rarity woke.

Beside her was a glass of water that was filled at half-staff. It reminded her of her own glass of water, which was kept on her own bedside table at the Boutique when she needed a drink to soothe her aching heart. Her heart had ached for some reason--she didn't know why--but the aching was still there nonetheless, so she needed to do something to fix her old aching heart. Water seemed to be the rightful fix she needed.

Speaking of which, she needed that fix now. Her bones felt weak, her heart was only beating at such a slow pace--it barely felt like it was there, beating--her legs were hard to lift; she felt lost. Something was wrong and she didn't know what.

Maybe it's her horn, she thought, sending her gaze up to her hor--she gasped rather loudly at the sight--the horn was not free like before. Instead, it was covered in gauze again, and wrapped in those dreaded bandages she wished she could rip right off. She needed an explanation for this heinous crime; no pony would just wrap this infernal cloth around her three-fourths horn! Unless...

"Did something happen?" Rarity said, her mind not realizing she said that out loud. She needed answers. She needed them now.

Rarity remembered the button in its shiny red glory, which was happily sitting beside her, begging to be pushed. She smiled, and with the effort of twenty roaring tigers, she smashed the button to oblivion. The alert was sent a-packin', traveling over the entire clinic without a hitch. The deviant noise was one that Rarity loved, but she had bet that the nursing staff dreaded the day when they heard it. The signal meant an extreme emergency to them, Rarity thought, and if she had pressed it that much, it may sound like she was dying.

Rarity sighed. They wouldn't be annoyed with her if she wasn't dying, right?

After a few more seconds of Rarity contemplating over the grim reality of life and clinics, the door to Rarity's room suddenly swung open, echoing its rather horrifying crack in Rarity's ears. She whimpered, hoping that she would never hear that noise again, but the doctor soon proved that to be false as the echo reverberated off the walls; the door had been slammed shut.

In front of Rarity was Nurse Redheart: her eyes were wide, while her mouth moved at the speed of light, at least Rarity thought so, her mind unable to decode what Nurse Redheart was saying without adding words like "blood" and "creativity" in without mercy. Beside her was Doctor Stable, which made her a little unsettled due to his blank facial expression. He was hard to pinpoint, since he was usually cheery and poetic, but now that gaze turned to something different, something dark; she had expected a back light to add ambiance to his appearance, but sadly none was there. It did make it more horrifying, but, as Rarity saw it, the world she lived in now was getting worse and worse by day. All she wanted was to leave, not see these two every day.

"Rarity, did you hear what I was saying?"

The demand brought Rarity back to the present. "I--Uh... no?"

Nurse Redheart groaned. "Ugh, can you hear me?"

Rarity nodded. "Of course."

"Then why didn't you answer before?" Nurse Redheart asked with her eyebrow raised slightly.

Rarity sighed. "I'm just worried about why my horn is wrapped in a prison again."

"A prison?" Doctor Stable said, interrupting what Nurse Redheart was about to say--her mouth was wide as can be, taking in a deep breath to say a monologue of some sort (Rarity assumed). "Miss Rarity, those bandages are necessary for your full recovery! I hope you understand that the choice was--"

"Doctor, she means why they're on her horn again," Nurse Redheart butted in, shattering Doctors Stable's wise poem.

Rarity saw him sigh, before returning to her with a slight smile. He said, "Thank you, Red, you saved me once again from the terrible monster of misinterpretation! Why, I would've been stuck in a portal filled with twenty of you and only one of her if I stuck on that path! I--"

"Shut up and get to the point, Doctor," Nurse Redheart said, punctuating her final word with a growl.

He quivered, or so Rarity thought, the movement was just subtle enough for her to see, yet evident enough to even call it a quiver, but that wasn't as important as his whole body sudden turn to her view, and his blank expression becoming visible again. She was the one who became the target, a sight for a sniper like him to shoot her down with the magic from his horn, which was a grim reality for anypony. Yet, that blank expression soon turned to that slight smile again. He has never smiled fully...

"Well, Rarity, we have met at an impasse. You were asleep last night, sleeping happily and softly, your snores not waking a soul--"

"Wait, I snore!?"

The stallion took a step back for the safety of his entire life story. "I-I didn't mean to offend!" He waved his hooves rapidly in front of him. "Look, you were asleep and Nurse Redheart saw your horn. It... reverted back to its original state. All that drilling, carving, and basic touch ups were gone, erased in a snap. We--Rarity are you okay?"

Rarity heard the words he said, of course. Her mind just couldn't believe them. Reverted back to its original state? It was jagged, horrible, cursed, a representation of everything she feared; and here, a Doctor like him, had sat here to do surgery on little old her throughout the night without waking her up? It was nice... but she was still lost, drowning more or less in the sea of confusion. It didn't make any sense.

"I'm fine, just confused..." she muttered.

"What are you confused about?" Nurse Redheart asked. "I--" She received a slight jab from her superior. "We can help explain anything you might have."

Then, it dawned her: she had never actually seen her horn. What if... "May I... see it?"

The color had drained from both of their faces. They were discolored, broken, like a muse shot being down from the sky; there was nothing there but cold distance. Rarity shivered. She didn't like to see those faces. They scared her, slightly, her body shifting under the covers. Those rails again stood out, staring at her again. They didn't laugh, no, they stared just the same: blankly, without remorse. She wished they, including Nurse Redheart and Doctor Stable, would stop staring at her. She just wanted to be normal, not a mounted piece in a museum. She did adore the attention, but not for this...

As she was about to curl up in a ball and hide away the shame, Nurse Redheart said those three magical words...

"Yes, you can."

Her heart swelled at the opportunity of seeing her horn. Maybe it was fine. Maybe they fixed it. Maybe they did what they were supposed to do.  Was it jagged? Did they do surgery? Was this whole fiasco a lie or was it an attempt to be on stage? Did they...

...cut it more?

She stopped her questioning. The thought of her horn being torn asunder and made to their liking made it harder for her to swallow than anything. She was herself: an upstanding individual with the generosity that rivaled any Canterlot noble that ever stood in her presence. Yet, here, generosity wasn't applicable. It was a necessity, a trial of survival. Nothing was bleeding creativity anymore. It was all necessity.

Necessity: something Rarity needed.

Above her towered Nurse Redheart. She began to unravel the strands of cloth with a smile that told stories. Several, of which, Rarity wished she would never hear. They were probably about that necessity of blood, how it dripped and dripped on the ground, lost forever. She had to sew up the wound before it was lost too, but Rarity didn't bleed that way. She bled creativity and she did not stop until her mind was at rest.

As another bandage fell from her head, Rarity thought of its appearance. It must be done bleeding. Necessity must have clogged up her wound. Yet, her horn, an extension of herself, now was about to be unleashed to herself. There was no better feeling than that: seeing yourself anew for a second time. Maybe it was beautiful, like her. It wasn't cursed--no, it was never cursed. She smiled and waited for Nurse Redheart to finish the deed.

A small bandage falls. No blood yet.

Another bandage falls. This one is larger, but not a single stain of blood.

A gauze begins its descent. Still. No. Blood.

She gasped as Nurse Redheart, a smile now plastered on her face, pulled away and dusted her hooves. "Done," she uttered. "May I grab a mirror?"

With fright inside her, Rarity slowly nodded. There was no blood. Last time, blood was aplenty. Now...

She watched as Nurse Redheart go, walking out the door. She didn't let the door smack the wall nor the frame. Instead, it stayed open while the Doctor Stable took his cue and sat beside her.

"It'll be all right, Rarity. Your horn is great."

She doubted his comment. All stallions did this: comforting and loving to distract their love or friend from thinking ahead or stressing without much information. Yet, she had enough information and here he was still comforting her. Blasted ruffian, wooing her to this state.

If Nurse Redheart does not return with the mirror, Rarity will slap him as compensation.

Running down the hall was tiring for Nurse Redheart.

All because of this failed surgery, there was not a single bit of blood. Instead, as her mind prepared a response to Rarity's sudden cries of anguish, the horn itself was still the same. The Doctor just wanted to make her feel better. He's such a kind, caring stallion, but such a klutz and a hopeless bard in a medical professional's uniform. She sighed. He's perfect.

She, on the other hoof, was not perfect. She was about to make her patient cry. Her job was to make her patients feel better and healthy, not to make them upset and loathing. There was nothing worse than to tell a patient that we could not fix it again. The magic within the horn was too strong, and the drill they used had snapped in two...

...just like Rarity's horn. Snapped in two.

Redheart turned the corner and into the supply room. Maybe she'll forgive her. Maybe she and Rarity would become great friends. They could gossip about the stallions: how dense and loving they are, how poorly kept and mindlessly in love they are, and how, even in the worst circumstances, they stand up for the mare and do anything for her. Maybe...

...Rarity will find him too.

She smiled as she grabbed the mirror. Her reflection, though marked with the blood of others (like usual), still looked beautiful. She was still in uniform, her bun was still in its orderly fashion, and her hat was pristine, but something was amiss. A stray tear ogling her cheek? No, she did not feel sad. Upset? Even less likely than sadness. So why did she cry?

Another tear left her. Of course, the horn. It was all the horn. Rarity's horn. Cursed. Her fault. She can't fix it. Neither can Doctor Stable. They have no idea how to fix it. She's going to cry, cry a lot. There's no blood, Nurse Redheart thought, and that's why Rarity's eyes looked at her like that. They saw the bandages; there was blood last time on them. Now, there's none.

Nurse Redheart sniffled and wiped the tears from her face. No matter what happens today, she will be with Rarity. Even if she said no, she will be adamant and help her. Why?, she thought, why was she going to be this way?

Simply put: it was all her fault.

And she wanted to make things right.