A Merchant of Death And Fine Dresses
Rarity cringed as the old mare walked into her boutique. No it wasn’t for any trivial reason. The elegant unicorn might put up a facade of valuing appearance over any other trait, but it was not who she was. Rarity had never disliked anypony based on their looks, quite the opposite. She had even started making dresses to help everypony look beautiful. Fashion she believed, was the great equalizer.
No, what made Rarity cringe wasn’t the mare’s wrinkles, or her bad posture, those were just signs of a life well lived. That could be fixed with makeup and a nicely cut dress, or worn with pride. What made her want to hold back tears was that the mare’s cutie mark was glowing red.
None of the other customers reacted of course. You’d think a mare walking in with her flank glowing an angry red would attract some kind of attention, but only a single pony noticed.
The proprietor of Carousel Boutique saw the light and knew exactly what it meant. The mare was dying. She probably didn't even know it herself, she wasn't actually that old, her mane had just started to go grey and she looked healthy enough.
But Rarity knew.
The mare gave a few of the dresses a cursory glance as she walked to the shop, but it was obvious which one she had her eye on.
Rarity couldn't blame her, it was her latest masterpiece, an elegant piece of lemon coloured silk with a plunging neckline and frills that was just a few shades off white to compliment the mare's greying mane.
Oh Rarity knew the mare's name. She had been living in Ponyville since Rarity herself was a foal, but right now she did not want to remember it. She had to distance herself from her clients, or she wouldn't be able to do it.
This is because apart from being a professional dressmaker and thrice saviour of the nation, Rarity was death.
The mare had reached the dress and gave of a sigh of longing as she reached out a hoof to stroke the flowing lines of silk. The glow on her cutie mark was already dimming as she touched the garment.
Rarity wanted to go over to the mare and tell her… well what? To step away from the dress? To lie about it not being for sale and kick the mare out of her shop?
Yes, that is what she wanted, but she knew it wouldn't help. That mare was already dead and nothing Rarity could do would prevent that. She had tried that before and it never ended well. After the first few disasters she had learned that the path of least pain was to let nature run its course. Ponies died, it happened, and Rarity collected their souls, that happened too. New ponies were born every day, if some didn't die at the same rate then harmony would collapse. Save just a few more each generation and soon you faced famine and war as there were just too many mouths and not enough food to go around.
Rarity hated her job, it made her feel dirty, but somepony had to do it. She hadn't chosen it herself of course. All she ever wanted to be was a dressmaker, and she had been a darned good one too, still was.
It all changed on the day her father died.
"Uhm, can I help you?" She called out to the mare in a desperate attempt to distract herself from her own thoughts, and a desire to help. As a shopkeeper the instinct to make a customer feel at ease was strong and though this one would never return Rarity could make sure that her last day on Earth was a pleasant one.
The mare looked up startled, as if she had been mesmerized by the dress. She probably had been, the dress was now a bright red while her own soul was barely an ember on her flank.
That was to Rarity's eyes only, to everypony else the dress was still yellow. Her other customers would not be able to see the glow of a dying soul as it left the body for a new vessel. Oh how Rarity wished she couldn’t either, but she could, and she would do her best to ease its passing.
"Oh I'm just browsing." The mare sighed, not letting her hoof leave the enchanting touch of the fabric as she lifted her gaze to face the shopkeeper. "It's not like I could afford it anyway." She sighed again, stroking the delicate fabric.
"Shame though, such a beautiful dress, reminds me of my wedding gown." The mare gave another sigh as more of her soul leaked out and was absorbed by the dress.
"He died a few months ago you know." She creaked, visibly tiring as she spoke.
Rarity listened and nodded, she knew well. An earth pony stallion, yellow coat and blue mane. His soul vessel had also been his wedding attire, a black tuxedo still on display in the second hoof section of her boutique. They must have been a very happy couple, she would die soon after him of a broken heart and loneliness.
Biting back tears Rarity managed to choke out that the dress was on sale and that the mare should try it on. She named a preposterously low sum, but why not, it wasn't as if she wouldn't get the garment back soon.
“Oh thank you!” The mare squealed in surprised delight and hurried into the changing room to try it on. Rarity on her part went back to the cash register with a slightly less heavier heart, at least she had made somepony’s day, even if it was their last.
***
“It’s a bit big...” The mare commented as she twirled, the yellow dress flowing around her. Just a few months ago it would have fit perfectly, but she had lost weight, a lot of it. She knew she should eat more but she hadn’t had the spirit to do it since her husband passed. He always used to do the cooking and without him…. No she wasn’t thinking about that, not now, not when she was feeling beautiful for the first time in months, and wearing something other than black. She may be a widow, but she couldn’t let her life end just because she was lonely, could she? No, as she twirled around and admired herself in the mirror, she knew that if she just bought this dress, it would all turn out alright. She couldn’t tell where the feeling came from, there was some part of this she couldn’t put her hoof on, but she knew it was true.
She stopped and met the eyes of the shopkeeper, Rarity. “...but I love it. Any chance I can get it fitted?” She asked the tailor mare. It was silly, this was Carousel Boutique, Rarity was well known to be an expert seamstress, of course she could get it tailored.
So why did it feel like this dress was made for somepony else?
The mare did her best to push that feeling aside, this was her dress darnit, and repeated her question. Why had Rarity been looking so distracted? Poor mare, maybe she was going through something?
“Uhm, yes.” Rarity choked out. “I can get it fitted for you, just stand still.”
That put the mare on edge but before she could ask further Rarity kneeled next to her and, levitating a dozen needles over, began to take in the dress to fit her new more emaciated state. As she felt just how deep the dress was taken in around her belly she started to wonder that maybe Rarity wasn’t the one who needed help, was she really that thin?
It was time for a change, starting with this dress and tomorrow... tomorrow… well tomorrow she’d think of something, maybe have ice cream for breakfast? Or anything for breakfast at all. That was a start, right? Tomorrow she would begin her life anew. Yes, that was it.
Rarity finished the needling of the dress while it’s occupant was lost in thought, wiping away a tear on her own sleeve.
“That’s all.” The tailor spoke, her voice now under control. “If you’ll just take it off and hoof it over to me I’ll have the adjustments done and deliver it to you tomorrow. Does that sound good?”
“Tomorrow?” The mare asked, yes that sounded perfect. She happily paid for the surprisingly cheap dress and left with a new spring in her step. Tomorrow, all her troubles would be over.
Rarity on her part watched the mare leave. She tried to not see the empty flank where her cutie mark had been. Why couldn’t she be like everypony else in the shop? All they saw was the imprint of a mark, no different to their eyes than what it had been before.
But Rarity saw the truth, there was no mark there, just pigments in the skin that formed the shape of a flower. It wasn’t a cutie mark any more than a dead body was a pony. Like the rest of the mare it was nothing but an empty shell. A living pony had entered her store, and a living corpse had walked out, leaving it’s soul behind. A soul which the tailor clutched to her chest in an attempt to hold back tears. Rarity truly hated her new job but somepony had to do it and if not her, then who else?
The dressmaker pulled herself together. It was a herculean effort of will to be sure, but it took more than courage, it took emptiness. To work day in and out, watching ponies die and knowing there was nothing, nothing at all she could do for them but make sure that their last memory was a good one. With another sigh she plastered a smile back on her muzzle and went on with her day. She still had a shop to run and dresses to make after all.
She never did make the adjustments on the dress, she knew it would be futile, that dress was not meant for the mare who just left.
No, that dress with it’s angry red glow was for somepony else. Somepony with a life left to live.
