Author's Note

A picture of Spectre's cutie mark is in the Art blog

Summary of Episodes 9 to 14 for those who want to skip the more Slice of Life-y bits

Episode 9: Spectre

The walls of the atelier were covered in paintings, drawings and sketches. The middle of the room was dominated by an easel, flanked by two workbenches with all sorts of pencils, brushes, paints, and everything else the resident artist could wish for scattered across them. There were no windows, but they wouldn’t be of any use underground anyway. The white unicorn currently working on her latest piece was a bit taller than most unicorns. But what stood out was her mane.

Unkempt, shoulder-length, and slightly flowing, it would have been the horror for every hairdresser as it is, but what had yet made all fashionistas despair was the colour. It fluently changed through all colours of the light spectrum, constantly mixing new shades and combinations. She herself described it as looking ‘as if you would put yellow and orange, red and blue, teal and purple oil on water, and stir it.’

She’d just set her current brush down when somepony behind her said, “What are you painting?”

Spectre flinched a little bit—she always got so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice when somepony entered her atelier—turned around and looked at her friend from the Shadowbolts. “Flowers,” she said before grabbing another brush and continuing painting.

“Looks good so far, I would say... Hey, did you hear the news?” His question was followed by silence, so he added, “They are rebuilding the old castle in the forest. I thought it might be interesting for you because you often snuck out to draw the ruins.”

“I won’t visit it again until its finished,” Spectre answered in an absent-minded, relaxed tone, “Architecture is a work of art, and it’s rude to look at the work of somepony else before it is finished unless the artist asks you to.” She glanced at her friend for a moment, before applying red paint to her brush.

“Well, maybe the pony restoring the tapestries could need some help. They got to have lost some colour over the years.”

Spectre stopped her brush a centimetre before the canvas. “Pony?” She asked, “As in, a diurnal? Not somepony from here?”

“A pony from Ponyville, yes. Since the castle is supposed to be neutral ground for negotiations between Noctris and Equestria, rebuilding it is a group effort. They gave the job to Rarity.”

“Rarity? The element of Generosity, famous seamstress… ThatRarity?”

“Yup.”

“What’s the weather today?”

“Windy, a little bit snowy, and a full cloud cover.” A small grin stole itself onto his face when he saw Spectre putting on her saddlebag. “You want to visit her, right?”

“Of course, now that we actually are allowed to interact with diurnals.” She put on a black hooded coat and shoes to match. The only thing not covered was now her face. “And it would be a tragedy to let this opportunity to meet her slip by.”

Ponyville, early morning

The doorbell rang and Spectre entered the shop. Rarity stood in the middle of the room over the tapestries and said while turning around, “Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique and magnifique. How may I…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Spectre had taken of her hood, revealing her mane and thin, light green nightmare-eyes. Rarity looked at her with a mixture of fascination and shock.

“Am I speaking with Rarity?”

Rarity needed a second to realize that she was asked a question. “Yes, and who am I talking with?”

“My name is Spectre. It is an honour to meet you. Many ponies talked about your art with praise.”

“Well, I put a lot of effort into every piece I make.” The compliment calmed her down. She pointed with her hoof at a dress she currently had on display and told Spectre a little bit about it, but as soon as she looked back at her guest and remembered what she was, she tensed up again. “So, what gives me the… honour of your visit?”

“I just wanted to visit the pony I heard so much about…” Spectre looked around. “I’m sorry, but is there a coat rack somewhere? This thing is extremely heavy.” Rarity pointed at the rack next to the door and Spectre hung her coat there. She noticed Rarity staring at her. “Am I making you nervous?”

“What? No. I mean, I never saw a nachtmare that close and I admit, the only two times I met one weren’t that pleasant, so I may need a minute or two to feel comfortable around your kind—no offence—but what in Celestia’s name did you do with your mane?”

“Nothing. It was like that for as long as I can remember—” Spectre raised her hoof to prevent Rarity from speaking “—I know, I know, ‘It’s unkempt, a crime against fashion, horrible, I should be ashamed to not show my mane the proper attention and care,’ I’ve heard it all.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, it’s gorgeous!” Rarity walked to Spectre’s side and looked closely at the nachtmare’s mane, forgetting what she was talking with.

Spectre was perplexed. She didn’t even notice Rarity’s new position. “You really think so?”

“Of course,” Rarity responded, “I would never joke about something like that. Your mane can even compete with Princess Celestia’s.” Rarity reached out with her hoof to touch Spectre’s mane, but she stopped herself halfway there and stepped back again when Spectre turned her head to face Rarity. “I beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to get to close.”

“It’s alright, I just was taken aback a moment. You are the first fashion designer to compliment my mane. Anyway, I heard you were given the task to restore the tapestries from the old castle.”

“I am, yes.” Rarity walked over to the tapestries. Spectre followed her while grabbing a sketchbook from her saddlebags. Rarity continued, “I already cleaned them, which they were in dire need for after being left out there for one thousand years. Most didn’t suffer too many cuts or tears, but I will have to copy a few of them. The only problem is that I don’t have the right fabric.”

Spectre scribbled something in her scrapbook and said, “I didn’t know that they were made from such a special material.”

“That’s not the problem. I got the right material, but not the right hues of blue. I even sacrificed one of the smaller tapestries to send samples to every draper I know, but all offers they send back were just not quite what I needed.” Rarity laid multiple fabrics besides the tapestry of Luna to showcase her problem.

“I could help you with that if you want.”

“Really?”

“You just have to give me the right fabric and I’ll take care of the colour.”

“That would be wonderful. Wait here, I get it from my own stock.” Rarity went into the back of her boutique and soon returned levitating a white bale. “Here, you can use this one.”

Spectre nodded and took the bale with her own magic. Then she focused on the tapestry. The colour of magic, normally as chaotic as her mane, changed to reflect the dark blue of the tapestry. The magic sank into the fabric and dyed it. After her work was done, Spectre gave the bale back to Rarity, who carefully looked at it.

“That’s exactly the hue I needed… How did you do that?”

“It’s my special talent. I’m just happy I could help somepony as talented and beautiful as you.”

“Thank you. Would you mind if I began with the repairs?”

“Not at all, I’ll just sit over there and watch.”

Rarity took to her work and Spectre to her sketches. Every now and then, Rarity noticed another missing colour and Spectre helped her with her talent again.

They started to talk. Rarity about the boutique, her friends and Ponyville, and Spectre about how she often left Noctris to look for inspiration in the Everfree, how she used her talents to bring colour in the underground city—even though she was careful to avoid to say where the city was—and how the designers she met reacted to her. Many wanted her to wear something of there creation. As a famous artist, there would be no better advertisement for them. But because of her mane, which she refused to style just for a dress, they all gave up at some point or simply failed to create something Spectre liked.

After two hours, the repairs to the numerous tapestries were completed. Rarity and Spectre folded and packed them for the transport to the castle. Rarity would still have to make a few new ones, but Spectre had changed the colour of enough fabric for Rarity.

“Again, thank you, Spectre. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Spectre shook her head. “Don’t mention it. I just changed a few colours. You did the real work.”

“Darling, you saved me weeks of effort trying to find the right hues. I simply can’t ignore an act of kindness like that. There must be something I can do to repay you for your help.”

Spectre thought about it for a moment. She already learned a lot about Rarity as a pony, but Rarity as an artist still interested her. Spectre asked, “Do you, by any chance, have an atelier?”

“My inspiration room could probably be called that, yes. Why?”

“Would you show it to me?” In her opinion, the private room of an artist could tell you a lot about the artist, if you look at it with an open heart.

“Of course, that’s the least I can do. Come with me.” Rarity led her through the back of the shop and into the ‘organized chaos’ of her workshop.

Spectre looked around. She walked further into the room, carefully avoiding the pieces of cloth and paper scattered on the floor. Rarity had to have a truly free mind. She pointed at a sketch hanging beside a mirror. “Did you make that?”

“Of course, darling.”

“You’re really skilled with charcoal, I’m impressed.”

“Well, I need it to design my dresses somehow.” Only now did Rarity notice Spectre scribbling her sketchbook. “And what are you drawing?” She asked with suspicion.

Spectre gave the book to Rarity. “It’s my first time in Ponyvile, so I wanted to have something to remember the trip.”

Rarity looked through it. The first one was a rough sketch of Ponyvile from the edge of the Everfree. The next few of different houses in Ponyvile, including the town hall. Then one of the outside of the boutique. One of the inside. And then…

“You made a drawing of me?”

“While you worked on the tapestries, yes. You seemed to enjoy it so much, I couldn’t resist capturing that moment of happiness and beauty. Of course, if you want, I’ll destroy it.”

Rarity closed the book, smiled and gave it back to Spectre. “Keep it, but I hope you won’t need it to remember me.”

Did my eyes deceive me, or did she blush? Spectre thought. She simply said, “Me too.” They left the inspiration room and Spectre added with a little bow, “Thank you for showing me your inspiration room.”

“You’re most welcome. Now I want to ask you something.”

Spectre looked at Rarity with curious eyes but said nothing.

Rarity took a deep breath and asked, “Would you mind if I design a dress for you?”

Spectre raised an eyebrow. “Even after I told you that nopony yet managed to create something I like, you still want to try?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re a wonderful pony and you deserve it. Of course, I would never claim to truly know yet, but you seem to be an extraordinary mare. I know it won’t be easy, that I will have to think unconventionally, but just because nopony managed it yet doesn’t mean it nopony will ever be able too.”

Spectre smiled. “How could I say no to such a charming lady? If you really want to, I have nothing against it. And to be honest, I think you could actually succeed.”

Before Rarity could say something, they heard the doorbell, followed by somepony calling for her. Rarity went ahead to greet the new guest, while Spectre waited until Rarity told her to come out.

When Spectre entered the room, she recognized the guest as Rainbow Dash. Why did it have to be her of all ponies? Dash said, “So, you’re the mysterious, hooded pony walking through town Cloud Kicker told me about.”

Spectre didn’t grin anymore. She didn’t frown either, but there was no friendliness in her voice when she said, “I guess so, and from the looks of it, you’re Rainbow Dash.”

“The one and only,” Rainbow said grinning. Then she asked what Spectre was doing there and Spectre told her what she already told Rarity earlier. After she was done, Dash asked, “How can it be that you are out in the open? I thought your kind dies if you leave your caves during the day.”

“It’s not daytime that hurts us nachtmares, it’s sunlight. And thanks to the weather, the sun can’t shine on me directly, so I’m fine… mostly.”

“Mostly?”

Spectre sighed and pointed at her cloak. “I still have to wear that to block out the rest. Long exposure wouldn't be healthy, even if it's just a little bit… you're staring at my mane, aren't you?”

“Can you blame me?” Dask asked defensively, “It looks like it was dyed with a sonic rainboom.”

“That sounds like a compliment.”

“I guess it is.”

“Well, Thank you then.” I still don't like you, Spectre thought, Who actually enjoys beating others senseless? I can't understand why the Shadowbolts want to… “I almost forgot to tell you. The Shadowbolts want to meet you at the old castle… they want to challenge you to a race or something.”