Burning Alive

by GaPJaxie

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rarity, Drama
Length: 2061

Rarity discovers the meaning of happiness.

Rarity discovers the meaning of happiness.

Stream-of-consciousness written in about an hour. Unedited.

A contest reward, written on the prompt: "Just write something comfy for yourself." I don't think the winner quite understood what he was getting into.

Published 2019-10-09 07:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-10-09 07:10:01 UTC

The Match

“What is happiness?” Twilight asked.

“Burning alive,” Rarity answered. And with a smile, she lit a match.

What is happiness? It is freedom. To hop from moment to moment, acting upon every whim. Happiness is seeing a hungry pony on the street and giving them twenty bits that was meant for lunch. It is seeing a Help Wanted sign in a window and changing careers. Happiness is meeting a beautiful mare and saying you don’t have plans.

Reality is imperfect. Some imperfections are obvious -- beggars are dangerous, jobs are unfulfilling, it’s hard to find a good date. But these are only manifestations of a deeper flaw.

The happy pony, the free pony, doesn’t get to know what will become of these actions before they take them. They leap blindly.

Then they fall.

“And then you wanted to work on the Jasmine Dragon dress on Saturday. You asked me to remind you that you need to have it done before the gala.” Sassy droned on, reading aloud from a clipboard she levitated in front of her. “Sunday you have blocked off, but only until six, and I was hoping that you could find some time to come in and look at the new numbers. It’s okay if not though, don’t feel obligated. It’s—”

Rarity’s cutie mark had begun to flash. The map was calling her.

“Goodness,” said Sassy. “Is that what I think it is? An actual magical friendship adventure?”

Rarity lifted a hoof and dropped it down to her desk. It landed with a thump.

It felt heavy, her hoof. All her limbs were heavy. Her thoughts were clouded. And she was tired. She was so tired.

“Rarity?”

There were mundane explanations. She’d slept poorly last night, worked all day, concentrated for hours on end. Oh, her friends would say, she needed a rest. To lay down her head and let sleep take her. And such a tempting thought that was.

But she’d been tired so much lately, sad so much, afraid so much, drinking more than she should, overworked, overscheduled, every second of every day committed to something and someone. Dresses for her clients, tea with her friends, adventures to go save the world all of it worthy all of it calling, binding her to where she stood.

“Rarity?” Sassy raised her voice.

Rarity’s head snapped up from her desk. “I’m sorry, what was that? I think I… spaced out.”

“Your flank is glowing.” Sassy pointed. “I was asking if that was the… well,” she put a lot of breath into the words, “the call to adventure.”

“Oh.” Rarity shrugged. “Yes.”

After a long, awkward silence, Sassy asked, “Are you going to… go do something?”

“There will be another adventure tomorrow, I am sure.”

Ponies would say, Rarity had so much to live for. So many things tied her to the world, bound her to it.

Her soul was chained to the earth.

What is happiness? It is a lake of ice, lifeless and dead, but beautiful because spring will return. It is a flame, hot and smokey, but treasured because it will soon go out. It is lightning, reflected in the eyes of a filly.

Happiness ends. This is not a flaw of implementation, but inherent to its design. Creatures desire to be free, but they also desire to matter. One whose actions have no consequences may be free forever, but only as a gust of wind. One who matters greatly may in every instance do as they feel they must, but they are a slave in their heart.

An artist creates, and when she sees her work in the world, she knows it matters. It elicits joy, in others and in herself.

Then it all goes so wrong. She gets popular.

“Nice try, Nega Trixie!” Twilight spread her wings wide, encompassing the great cavern around them. “But the power of friendship overcomes all challenges, even your negative energy beams.”

“Hah!” Nega Trixie looked a lot like regular Trixie, except that her mane parted on the other side, and she could talk like a normal pony. “You don’t stand a chance. Step forward, princess, and we’ll see how immortal you really are.”

“You think I’m afraid?” Twilight stepped forward, four of her friends behind her. “We’ve conquered countless villains before you: Discord, Tirek, the Storm—”

“Twilight,” Rarity said, she was still in the back. She hadn’t stepped up into formation with the others. “Can we wrap this up? Skip the speech, I mean?”

Everypony stared at her. Even Nega Trixie lifted an eyebrow. Under the weight of their collective gaze, Rarity turned away. All she could do was shrug.

Finally she managed to mumble: “It’s a bit cliche, isn’t it? I’m sure we’ve done this before.”

What is happiness? It is the shedding of expectations. The lightening of the soul. The shrugging off of burdens.

Priests have said, “the origin of suffering is desire.” To restate in a manner more precise, though less succinct, when a creature’s desires are in conflict, suffering must result.

Some desires are in conflict with the world. A creature desires to pass, and finds a wall in their way. But walls can be destroyed, and dreams erected in their place. This is the lesser form of suffering.

The greater is when the desires of a single creature are in conflict with each other. Suffering is the artist who wants every creation to feel as grand as her first, but also to be confident and sure in herself. Who wants to ascend to ever-greater heights, but also to take life at an easy pace. Who wants to be challenged at every point, but never fear defeat.

When she rids herself of one of these desires, the conflict abates, and she is happy. She has surrendered herself to joy.

“Gosh, Rarity, you really seem down lately. You know what would help? A party!”

“We’re all so worried about you. I’m going to check in every day, alright? And tell me if things get any worse.”

“Rares, I don’t know what’s wrong, but we’re all there for you. I promise, we’ll support you every step of the way.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but please, remember that we all love you.”

“Are you okay?”

So was Rarity bound to the world. Friendship was, as Twilight said, the strongest force in Equestria, and it made bindings of equal strength. There was no hope of escape, nowhere for her to go, every action laid out clear in front of her.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said.

In the dark interior of Carousel Boutique, Twilight squinted at Rarity. Slowly, she bit her lip and folded her ears back behind her head. Then she asked, “Why are you lying to me?”

“Heh.” Rarity smiled, looking down at her table. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I truly am.”

“I believe you. But please don’t say you’re sorry. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“If I tell you, it’ll make a liar out of you as well.” She glanced up at Twilight for a moment, meeting her eyes. Then she went back down to looking at the table. “I wouldn’t want to do that to your friendship.”

“Try me.”

“Fine.” Rarity drew in a breath. “My best years are behind me. Nothing I ever do shall be as grand, as liberating, or as joyful as what I have already done.”

“That’s crazy.” Twilight sat up, spreading her wings. “You’ve got a wonderful life ahead of you. You can always do better!”

“Really?” Rarity asked. “I can help defeat a thousand years old dark goddess, restore the Equestrian diarchy, prove myself as an artist for the first time, become famous for my crafts, and establish a thriving business? You think I can do all that and more, in my remaining years?”

“Well…” For a split second, Twilight froze. Then, too hard, she said, “Yeah!”

Rarity lifted a hoof. She waggled it in the air. Then she laughed. “You hesitated.”

What is happiness? It is getting to play the game again.

Imagine a pony who, after years of diligent work, constructs their dream house. Freely, they have leapt, and in falling, their happiness comes to an end. It will happen in this way.

First, they will notice flaws in the house. This is not to say the house is not fine, but unless they are the most empty-headed of creatures, they will continue to imagine, and in time will imagine what they might have done better.

Second, they will plot and they will plan how these visions might be made manifest. They will add drywall, remove barriers, rearrange furniture, hang tapestries, and with each step make their house greater. It shall become greater than even they initially conceived, perhaps an architectural masterpiece, or perhaps simply the home of a happy family.

But in time, they will come to a flaw which is fundamental to the structure. Perhaps to the frame, perhaps to the foundation, perhaps to the core aesthetics or design. A flaw that they could have corrected in the design phase, but which is now, in the finished house, out of reach.

The dream of the house is born, in blooms into radiance, and inevitably, it dies. The house ceases to be a dream house, and is simply a building. The joy fades.

But imagine the pony’s rapture, if they could go back in time and do it all again. If they could design their house having already known what it was like to live in it. If they could start again.

Time travel is possible. But there is a price to pay for such magic. A pack of matches is required.

An amulet, shaped like a phoenix. A boutique, full of mementos of a life well lived. Rarity gathered up her dresses, her books, pictures of her and her family and her friends. By these artifacts, she remembered her life, and found it not unworthy.

She’d had a pretty good run.

Twilight was there, a book of spells held in front of her, and she asked Rarity one last time: “Are you sure? Are you completely sure? This spell is not reversible.”

“I’m sure, Twilight.” Rarity stepped up to her friend, tears forming in her eyes. “You know, few ponies would have done this. They’d have given me a hug and told me everything will be okay.”

“It will be okay. I will.” Twilight brushed Rarity’s shoulder, and Rarity started to cry, and soon they were both hugging and crying. It all lasted some time, until they each had no more tears. Then Rarity stepped away.

One last time, she looked over the artifacts of her life, and treasured the memories. Then she doused them, and herself, in kerosene.

“Ready when you are, Twilight,” she said, touching the phoenix amulet around her neck with a hoof.

Twilight read aloud from her spellbook. “What is happiness?”

The Boutique was full of flammable fabric. Within minutes, flames poured from every window.

When the sun set, and the flames went out, and the air was cool and ashes flew upon the wind, something moved inside the remains of the Boutique. Twilight was waiting nearby.

It was Rarity, no younger than she was, no different in any physical way. She still had that mole upon her neck, and her mane was still obviously dyed.

“I don’t understand.” Twilight frowned. “I thought you’d be… younger. The spell is supposed to renew you. Like a phoenix. It…”

“Hush.” She slipped the phoenix amulet from her neck, and returned it to Twilight. “I assure you, I am a satisfied customer.”

She was smiling, and Twilight couldn’t help but smile back. “What are you going to do now?” Twilight asked.

“Whatever I feel like, I suppose. I think I’ll travel for a bit. See the world.” She kissed Twilight on the cheek. “Thank you again. You are a true friend. I’ll always remember what you did today.”

“Sure.” Twilight laughed. “I’m just happy you’re okay.”

“Then I’m off to the train station.” Rarity turned and began to trot away, but before she got four steps, she was cut off by Twilight’s shout.

“Wait!” she reached out with a hoof. “You’re leaving now? I thought…” She hesitated. “When are you going to be back?”

“Oh, Twilight.” Rarity’s smile softened. “Never.”