Her Eyes

by StarRibbon

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Sad, Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo, Princess Celestia, Tragedy, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2726

Rainbow Dash was a villain. Scootaloo was a victim. Celestia came too late. That's how the story was told to everypony, but was the really the case?

She had amazing eyes, full of determination. So full of naive admiration.

She had eyes filled to the brim with fear. She lost that admiration. She lost her hope.

She had insane eyes; her face twisting into a grin that showed her broken figure. She looked so haunted.

She had beautiful eyes. She accepted her destiny.

The moon still rose over the sun and the sun still set in its time slot. Nothing had changed, but everything had.

Published 2015-12-11 00:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-11 00:20:01 UTC

Her eyes

She had strange eyes when I first met her. She was younger then, but I saw something that others hadn't. I saw something others didn't give her credit for, but I saw it. She had potential, I admit.

Those eyes were expressive, they shimmered when I talked to her. I admired those eyes. I admired her abilities. She didn't fly like I; she couldn't fly like I. But she had something- something that I hadn't figured out at the time.

So I ignored her. She kept drawing closer to me. Why couldn't she see it? Why didn't she bother seeing it?

I crucified her blindness. What else could I have done when I was was the epitome of blindness?

She had annoying eyes. Following like a shadow, she followed my figure where ever I went. She had friends; she had family, but she still followed my lead. She tried following every notion I threw at her. She was like a small little lap dog. I wasn't supposed to be intimidated. She was only a midget compared to my stature.

She shook me the wrong way. I purposely pushed her away. I purposely ignored her.

She hadn't cared. She still admired me. She still loved me. She still was unaware of the blood that crawled down my hooves. She was still blind.

She was annoying with her ability to see past me. She was annoying with her ability to send shivers down this murder's spine. She was strong.

I didn't understand. I didn't want to understand. I wanted her to leave. She didn't leave me alone. She hadn't gotten my message.

She had loyal eyes. She grew more loyal by the minute; she wormed herself into my life. She tried to be like me; she tried mimicking me more so now than ever before. She wouldn't listen to reason. She refused to listen to my reason. I was her idol. She prayed to the ground I walked. I was her everything despite her friends being by her side without fail.

She still wasted time on this blood coated mare.

She had admiration in her eyes. She realized her fate. Her friends realized theirs. She grasped it like it was a long awaited lifeline. They all had.

She didn't see her ability. Her mark had, though. I saw that ability once more. That fierce determination that she tried to admire even in a monster like me. I cried that day- not for her, but for my foolishness. The only time I thought I'd cry in front of her.

She didn't mind that, though. She was too happy to mind.

I wished she stayed so pure. I wished that determination would never fade. As I hugged that mystery, I kept remembering my disdain for her. She grew beyond my expectations.

She didn't allow me the right to hate her. She was blind like me; I was her blind idol.

It was perfect.

She had frustrating eyes. I hated her with every part of my being. She was aggravating with her mimicking. Hadn't she realized it yet?

I wish she wasn't so blind. I hated myself more than I hated her. That time came when she drew near. She came with her blind worship. Her blind loyalty.

She only had moments to realize her idol was just as blind. It only took a few, precious moments for her blind orbs to see another pair of blind orbs.

She had fearful eyes. She was shaking, cowering from my position. My heart sank to the bottom of my chest.

I said things I didn't mean. I hadn't a way to fix those dishonest words. Those echos followed from behind me. They echoed from behind her too. We begged, but it fell on my deaf, blood soaked, ears. She was begging for her idol that never came.

She begged for a dead mare that never existed. She begged for what could have been. She begged until a goddess came to free her from a nightmare that was never a dream to begin with.

She was spared. I was spared. Everyone was still so ignorant. Everyone still so naive.

She had broken eyes. The Goddess freed us from that nightmare with a single promise of fixing. She didn't hear the pleas. It had been a year since she heard those words that rang of a promise. She never came around to listen to those words.

She didn't care about those words. She hadn't cared about me. She hadn't cared about anypony for that year. They told me to visit her for a final chance to bring her back, to bring back the pony once loved.

The pony that had an ability that could out shine the others. It was a wasted effort. Far too gone for company, far too judgmental for my involvement, she locked herself away from the world. Away from those that cared, away from me, and worst of all, away from herself.

Her beacon of hope diminishing. Her smile fading to time. When had she last shown a sliver of hope? A sliver of glee?

I begged her to leave her home.

I hated myself more than I hated anypony else. Above all, I hate the Goddess that brought forth the plan in the first place. The Goddess that brought the notion to fruition had never seen the aftermath. Had never bothered to fix the problem. Had this Goddess bothered to care for us in the first place?

Did our intervention, our aid, not mattered to the divine one that shined like the sun? I tried ignoring the betrayal in these thoughts. I ignored every betrayal brought. I was the epitome of betrayal. The blood that soaked on my hooves decayed by the time I glanced down that year. I had almost forgotten that sinister betrayal at the time. I urged myself to ignore my betrayal.

I wanted to be blind to this betrayal like I had before.

Maybe the Goddess did that on purpose, I always wondered after those days had passed. Had the Goddess intervened because I was just a petty sight? Was there something so petty about my appearance that made her pity me?

Or was she just as blind to the world as I was? This Goddess was strange; she never liked to answer questions, no matter how close we were. No matter how much those questions might help in the long run.

She had deluded eyes. The Goddess haunted me again. Would those words matter to her anymore if she heard them again? Would it matter, more so, to a pony lost within a faded memory? She was too far gone, now.

Those eyes lacked the wonder I loved from her. She wasn't herself anymore.

Hermit. Loner- or, was it victim, now? Words sprayed in murmurs every time she decided to wander by.

She hadn't heard it, but she had. She just hadn't cared anymore. That hadn't mattered. She had to leave her home. She was forced away from that home. I tried to aid her again when this force was brought into effect.

She had blank eyes that day. She was forced to be with her friends, but her loyalty was gone. The Goddess wasn't there to see the damage it had decided to inflict upon her, but I had as the creator of those vacant eyes. I was responsible for her loss.

Responsible for breaking her spirit when I tried my damnedest to not. Why did she break so suddenly when she didn't break when I tried to? I haven't found my heart since that day. I bet she hasn't found herself

She didn't know herself. She couldn't see herself.

But this blood craved pony had. I had seen her. I had known what she was, what she should have been. I had known what I have stole from her form.

I had known that I lost her soul to the blood. But I chose to leave it be.

I didn't want to be responsible for that loss. I didn't want to see the courageous little pony that once had everything in the world, destroyed. I didn't want to see the wreckage.

I hadn't wanted to face the truth of it diminishing forever from her form because it meant my fear of her overcame me.

Then I would need to face the idea I brought this plague on. That was more fearful than my original fear.

So I chose an impossible alternative.

She had beautiful eyes that day. The others had known more than I, but they were almost completely blind themselves. They still, despite being blind, knew more than I.

If I had known more, I would have pushed more. I would have pushed for that impossible alternative, that impossible happy outcome that was never meant to be.

With an ironic push, I was watching them that day, a retreat was the treat for everyone. It was our consummation location; the location where fear was turned into a double blind admiration. The one true location where our destinies met.

The same location where our destinies drifted today. I was planted in place. Her beautiful eyes deluded, but had accepted something.

She accepted the end that I couldn't accept. I didn't want that to be accepted.

I would have denied this acceptance if I could have moved. She didn't speak, but she had. I didn't see her. I couldn't hear her.

I couldn't hear their screams and begs. Blood clogged my ears and covered my eyes. I couldn't see past blood.

I never saw so much blood on my hooves before; hers was the worst.

Author's Note

A different take on Rainbow Factory. After the Season 5 finale, I was inspired.

Everypony has a story; sometimes, the story is different from the reality.

Her Message

She had sent me a message full of loyalty. Her message was pristine. She did not doubt me, though I yearned for her to. She wasn't brash with me; no one chose to. I knew her potential to end the violence. She was always loyal.

She wasn't always a hard worker, I know, but she had the heart of one. If she so chose to, her work would be the better out of the contenders. She simply had that gift of loyalty.

But loyalty was a curse. It was her curse from the start. It was everyone's curse; a curse I created.

I wanted her to end it. She was not the effects that I desired.

She was not a pony that deserved that gift of loyalty, so unfaltering.

She had sent me a message riddled in blood. She was different this time. So, very different. I almost wanted to believe in the fantasy that she couldn't, simply, have been as blood thirsty as she had been.

That she hadn't seen what she saw; the same pony that I placed in front of the facility, before she saw everything. But she had seen everything. Her words were different; a thorn from a rose would have been smooth when touched in comparison.

Had she seen fates end so shortly, so frequently it tainted her mindset? I didn't think so, not at the time. She was headstrong; stubborn in her beliefs. One like her couldn't have been swayed by the forces so easily.

So easily...and so swiftly, at that. But a pony that suffers such a fate that requires one to see the end of others... I ignored the thought entirely. I would always ignore that thought. It haunted the essence of my dreams.

I didn't stop the insanity. There wasn't any time to. I didn't have time for that. But that was a lie. "A rose by any other name is just as sweet." A comforting lie, by the end, is just a lie. A lie with a sweet name is just a false belief.

A monster could weave a magnificent tale full of lies, but no matter how magnificent the tale, the tale was still a lie told by sweet words, words that I used on a constant basis.

She had sent a message to me full of annoyance. Apparently a pony- a young one at that, was following her like a miniature shadow. An ounce of hope became relevant again as time passes on.

The more messages of annoyance sent, hope began to increase. While the moment seemed dull; her bloodshed was put on hold.

I beg this pony to help her. Anything to help her move passed the wreck.

Anything to stop this influx of carnage. Despite my age and wisdom, the truth alludes me. It always had alluded me in the past. It was a specialty of mine. Staring at the sun causes blindness; breaking the hearts were an effect of this blindness. An unwanted effect was still an effect.

A monster with claws as beautiful as the sun's rays were still claws. They still were nothing more than weapons used to kill.

But not every monster used their claws, like me.

Her messages seemed to fade as time passed, but she was happy. They were happy. Nopony remembered the end, anymore.

I knew better. She knew better. Everypony in the facility knew better than I wanted to believe. Better than what I had wanted to believe for myself. It was only when time seemed to stop, that I seemed to stop it.

But I was late. She was late.

She was covered in blood. She wanted to cry, but she was angry. She was angry at her savior.

I was angry at her; I wanted to blame her for my actions of indecisiveness.

I wanted her to be the villain in my tale. I didn't allow that to happen nonetheless. She knows I didn't allow that to happen.

A monster isn't always the creature that has obvious tendencies. A monster creates a web of deception. It doesn't need to be a creature belonging to the night or a lore of some kind. A monster can be a pony that is praised by all, but a monster no less. I should know.

But not every monster could fit in. A monster with tendencies to blend in, but not always. Just like me.

She sends me messages now. All of them faded and angry. Screaming for assistance I could not provide.

She wanted that pony to be them again. She was begging me for a response. I ignored her pleas. I had no ability to answer those pleas. I had no right to answer them. She saw the truth. I saw the truth before that pony's end came to be.

She wanted an answer. How could I answer for my indecisiveness? A coward can't answer for what they've done because they were too cowardice to begin with. I wasn't an exception.

Never was an exception.

Nightmare Moon was hailed as a beast that wanted nothing more than to take over the night; a pony that was a monster by literal means. A pony that simply changed to be one. However, she may have been the catalyst, but I was the creator.

She might have been hailed as a monster because of her open actions, but I was no better with a discrete betrayal. A pony that wanted to be a hero in a tale of sorrow; a pony thought to be an all knowing being still wishing to pursue that goal for them all. A pony that wished to prove to them my honesty.

She was never the villain; she never could live to be the villain. That's why the words were never spoken to the outside races. She was a victim of circumstance because of me. She was the faux villain all because of me.

A monster with wisdom and fans...a monster that was praised by all around, by far, was still a monster. A pony that acts like an all knowing being is still, in the end, just a single pony with a delusion of grandeur.

I was no exception.

I could never be an exception to that rule.

She sent me regret messages from then on, but I knew the truth and so had she.

Her messages were filled with that pony's blood, but she wasn't the pony the drenched it in the foul substance. It was me.