Day Eleven

Rose’s mouth was incredibly dry.

That was the first sensation that returned to her delirious mind. The tongue in her mouth stuck to everything it touched and her lips were dry and beginning to crack. Then something else came through the thick fog in her head: she was starving. Her stomach rumbled and growled as it tried to rouse her into action. There was one final thing that came before her sight returned…

Pain.

An incredible pain echoed throughout every nerve and bone in the pony laying in the tub. As she attempted to move something caught and sent a shock of pain right across her back which caused her to cry out and whimper. Slowly she opened her eyes, only to be greeted with the sight of dim porcelain with a smattering of red around it.

Rose lifted her head, or at least attempted to. A layer of sticky dried blood made her cheek cling to the cold tub beneath. It took a little extra force but she eventually peeled her face free. She was laying on her left side and in a pool of dried blood. Her armored breastplate mostly kept her barrel free from being stuck but her neck and back half were all firmly kept in place by the sticky visceral seal.

There was yet another attempt to pull herself up, but when she tried a shock of pain shot across her back yet again. Rose craned her neck to try to see what it was, when she finally saw what was causing it the memories flooded back.

There was a loose flap of skin, the remnants of a joint that had once held a wing. It was practically tied to the porcelain surface with semi-dried blood. It looked like a scab had formed and it now had her tied down.

Rose bit her lip and pulled up as hard as she could. The pain was almost enough to knock her right back down, but she took a deep breath and propped herself up on a single hoof. That loose flap of skin now dangled beneath her and a small trickle of blood stemmed from it. Her vision swam and her head pounded as she looked at it.

Princess Celestia had done that. That thought made whatever blood still remained in her body run cold. Her wing was gone and Princess Celestia had taken it from her. Not just taken it, but ripped it from her. That felt deeper than cruelty, that felt like a personal condemnation.

Rose’s father had always said that pegasi were blessed because they could be closer to Princess Celestia’s light than anypony else. What did it mean when a god forcibly removed your blessing? What did it mean when part of what connected you to that which you held so dear was so violently stolen by the being who supposedly gifted it to you? What would her father say if he knew she had been so personally cursed by their patron?

Rose wished the blood loss had killed her.

It hadn’t though, which meant there was a reason why. Life was not done with her yet, so death had been kept at bay for just a little while longer. That rejuvenated her a little more and the blood drenched pegasus dragged herself from the tub. That wasn’t easy. The muscles in her legs were nowhere near ready for the physical activity and they nearly buckled when the full weight of the pony came down upon them. Then the pain came. It shot from the open wound and shot across her back. It felt like somepony had brought a sledgehammer down on her spine and made her lungs temporarily seize. She wanted to collapse, her legs wanted to give in from the shock.

Much like the pony they belonged to, they did not give in. They held strong just as she did. She limped over to the mirror and looked at the pony who greeted her. It barely looked like Rose Wreath; her golden mane was completely matted to the side of her head with blood, she looked incredibly pale, and of course now she was missing one wing. It looked like Rose Wreath had died and the pony standing in the mirror was her corpse come back to life.

Rose’s hoof turned the faucet and a stream of water poured forth from it. There was no use bothering with the little glass set beside the sink, Rose just stuck her muzzle beneath the faucet and lapped up the free flowing water. It was murky how long she stood there and guzzled straight from the source, but it seemed like an eternity. Every gulp of lifegiving water seemed to bring her that much more back from the brink. It was needed nourishment for a broken body and weary soul.

When she was finally done drinking she didn’t shut off the faucet. She had more use for it yet. The first order of business was to get her armor off so she could try to see what exactly the damage was to her body. It was bad, she knew that. Now she also needed to clean it and attempt to dress it with something. However long she had been out for was already too long with an open wound.

The straps on the side were not easy to get loose when it was already hard to stand on four hooves. When one had to be taken away to fumble with straps, it almost made the pegasus guard fall onto the tile more than once. Eventually the straps and buckles came undone and Rose slid the golden breastplate off as gingerly as she could. It landed on the floor with a heavy ‘thunk’ and the interior was revealed to be almost completely stained red. There was also the little metal card Spitfire had given her tucked inside, it too was coated in her blood. Rose picked that up and ran it under the water before putting it under her remaining wing.

The one-winged pegasus rummaged through some of the drawers until she came across a small first aid kit. It was just for small scrapes and bruises, shaving accidents and things like that, but she would have to stretch the supplies to their limit.

Rose slowly dealt with her brand new wound. The glass was used and filled up with warm water, which was then poured over that particular spot on her back. Despite the water being warm, it still stung. It carried all the blood from her red coat and the now red water dripped onto the floor beneath the pony. She did this a few times, enough to get the spot completely clean from any dried blood. Then she cobbled together some of the bandages and a few strips of gauze to cover the loose skin and empty socket. Was it thorough? No, but it would have to do for now. If they ever got out of this she could have it taken care of professionally. For now it just needed to be clean and covered.

She then proceeded to clean her mane the same way she had done her back. The water washed over her head and carried the dried blood off into a rapidly growing puddle of red around her hooves. It wasn’t the deep clean she so desperately needed, but like most things it would have to do for now. Taking a shower might’ve been the play in a world where she didn’t have an open wound on her back and noise wasn’t a deadly problem, but that was not a world that currently existed.

Once she was satisfied with what little cleaning she had gotten done, she looked at the armor on the floor. It would not be put back on. It had been stupid to wear it in the first place. They knew that it largely did nothing, they had seen the aftermath and in Rose’s case she had felt just how ineffective it was against those things. Whether that was because of innately low quality or the fact that it relied more on charms to be worth anything, Rose couldn’t say. All she knew is it just slowed them down out here.

If the Lieutenant hadn’t ordered them to wear it, maybe Rose could have escaped Princess Celestia. It was a possibility. She wasn’t the fastest pony, but she knew deep down that she was faster than she had been in that moment. The fire in her chest couldn’t light, not in her current condition. If the fuel was present though, it would be raging at the thought.

The one good ear of the mare was pressed against the bathroom door and she listened as closely as she could for any noises. There was silence from beyond, so she carefully pushed the door open.

The room she had found herself in was one of the ones meant for important ponies, like Princess Cadance when she visited or anypony the royals were trying to impress. It was equivalent to a full fledged apartment, complete with a kitchen and an attached bedroom along with the living space she was faced with now.It was decorated in whites and purples and golds, just like the castle itself. A plush white carpet coated the floor, one that also had a streak of red that led from the door to the bathroom.

There was a window in the kitchen above the large sink. Through it natural light poured through and helped illuminate the space. Something told Rose that was wrong, though. The internal clock that eternally clicked in the primal brain of all things told her it should be night. On one of the walls was a clock, a quick glance told Rose that it was eleven-thirty. That didn’t exactly clear anything up.

There was something she needed more than the time of day, she needed food. Badly. She had given blood a couple of times a year and she knew after losing any amount of it that food was needed. Also her stomach felt like it was going to digest itself if it didn’t get something inside of it.

The mare staggered over to the kitchen. On her way she found out that her front left leg was a new weak spot. Every time she took a step and that shoulder came forward the now familiar and sharp pain shot throughout her body. Every time it made her want to stop and cry. When she got into the kitchen she opened the fridge to see if anything remained inside. There was a pitcher of water and a chocolate bar, but nothing beyond that. The chocolate bar was removed and the fridge was closed. She then went about rummaging through the cupboards and found a few abandoned cans of fruit and a box of crackers. It wasn’t much but it would have to be.

After a struggle with the can opener, which she found was a lot harder to use with a single wing rather than two, she had a bowl full of mixed fruit and a whole box of crackers all to herself. She sat down on the couch and devoured the ‘meal’ as fast as she could.

Day Twelve

The clock on the wall ticked past twelve and gave a little chime. Rose had absolutely destroyed what little food she had gathered and she felt full for the first time in what felt like a week at this point. Her energy was coming back and she could feel her strength gaining with each passing minute.

That did not mean she felt good by any stretch of the imagination. A wing had still been ripped from her back and she was down more blood than she thought was possible, but she felt better. She needed to feel better, mainly so she could get away from wherever she was and either get back to the dungeon or try to complete the mission by herself.

As she sat there on the couch and let the meal settle she had time to think. What was this mission for now? At the outset it had been about saving Equestria for Golden and Bulwark. For Rose, though? This was more about the princesses. It was the whole reason she had killed Parade after all.

Rose looked at her back and the wing that was now missing from it. She could still feel the missing limb. If she thought about it and told it to curl, she could swear it was still doing it despite its absence. It was never coming back. Princess Celestia had ripped clean off. Rose could still feel the teeth sink in and she could still feel it be ripped straight from the socket and the muscle and sinew ripping.

When Princess Celestia had melted the wall the night the alicorns turned, it felt like a general threat. It felt like chaos, just unleashed without any particular anger or hate. It had felt primal and general. What had just happened though, this injury, it had felt personal. She had looked into the eyes of the beast and seen directed hatred and rage.

The little glimpse of Celestia that she had seen from atop the ballista tower and while she had been laying on the throne had been absent. Before there had been that little shred of who they were before and Rose knew it. She had seen and felt it. Had it just disappeared? Had it just been a figment of her imagination?

The princesses should’ve been immune to the same level of depravity the common unicorns relished in. They should’ve been pure and powerful enough to hold off the worst of the infection. They were divine.

Rose then thought about the sun. The gaffe that had caused the alicorns to rouse from their slumber had been caused because she was enraptured with the sun and how wrong it felt. Her heart outright rejected what she had felt was right. It had to be a sense of malaise or even just being so close to Princess Celestia while she looked at it. There was no way it felt the way she remembered.

The pegasus got up and trotted towards the door that led into the castle hall. She waited for a moment and took a deep breath before pushing the door open. The hallway was empty, save for the trail of blood she had left behind that went down the hall to a spot against the wall. Across from that spot was the shattered window she had been thrown through.

Rose trotted down the hall, following the drippings of her own lifeblood down to the spot she impacted. Her eyes couldn’t focus on that spot for long and she turned her gaze towards the broken window, and more importantly the sun outside.

Immediately Rose’s full stomach turned as she looked up towards the burning ball in the sky. It wasn’t even explainable, not really. It just felt wrong. There was no more gentle light to be given out, only harsh lashes of heat that struck Equestria. It wasn’t just that metaphysical feeling either, it was a literal one. The air felt like it was on fire. Every breath she took wasn’t of fresh air, it was of stiflingly humid muck where air had once been. The cool mountain breezes of the capital had been stripped away and something foul had replaced it.

The world was wrong, and so were the ponies in it.

Rose sat on her haunches and stayed looking up at the sky. She closed her eyes and sent up a desperate prayer in hopes that something would hear it and perhaps even answer. The usual calm that accompanied that action did not fill her chest and the little pleasant tingle that would run down her spine did not materialize.

For the first time in her life, Rose felt like she could not be heard by her god.

Tears fell from her eyes and mixed with the blood still in her fur that hadn’t been washed away. The fire in her heart was snuffed out in a single violent moment that caused her to double over and sob. She cried openly and loudly, not caring who or what heard her. If the unicorns were to come, then let them. It already felt like she was dead.

“What did I do?” It still felt personal. It was a friend or a lover giving you the cold shoulder due to some transgression you were oblivious of. It felt so wounding that it had to be personal. There was no other explanation that fit into her mind. “I saved you…” She recalled that moment atop the ballista tower when she had sunk the dagger into Parade’s belly in order to prevent Princess Celestia’s demise.

“I SAVED YOUR LIFE!”

Rose found herself on her hooves and shouting at the city before her. The sole wing on her back was flared and she felt the heat rise in her chest and up her neck to her cheeks. The fire reignited in her chest, but it felt different now. The effect was different too. This was not a quiet fire that kept her warm, this was a raging blaze that needed an outlet. It was the same inferno that had ravaged the shining city below, now contained within a single pony.

“M-my whole life! All I’ve done is believe!” She found herself still shouting at the great expanse of nothing beyond the shattered window. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done in service to you! I-I have forsaken friends! I have given up time with the ponies around me and every single time I knew I was doing it because of you!” Her eyes became blurry with the tears welling up in them. “This is what I get?!” A hoof pointed to the hastily bandaged wound on her back.

She had been cursed with by the god she adored, ripped from the sky she had been told was her blessing. She would never skim the clouds again or bathe in the rays of the sun in a way only a pegasus could. Now she couldn’t even look at the damned sky without feeling ill.

Why?

That kept coming back up in her head, that same question. What had she done to deserve this? What sin had she committed to earn the scorn of the sky above and its avatar? She had kept her faith throughout all of this, through every moment. Never once had she wavered, in fact she had leaned on that faith to keep her sane.

Was it that one moment of doubt in the throne room? Had it been so simple that one little moment where she thought it was wrong caused the light to reject her? Had the momentary revulsion she had felt looking at the sky been the catalyst? If so, and if this was the reward for the devout who strayed even a moment from the path of the light, then Rose was more disgusted than before.

What if it was a test, though? What if this was a challenge of her faith? Had she already failed if that was the case? By lashing out at the sky above had she proven the charge of faithlessness she had been accused of?

A war raged within Rose between the faith she had always known and the reality laid bare in front of her. Both tore at her heart and told her to choose one side or the other.

“Give me a sign…” The embattled pegasus muttered. “That’s all I want, just a sign. If I’ve failed some test of my faith, then kill me. Strike me down. If I’ve wronged you in some way, then explain it. Let me feel your kind warmth again so I might know you exist…” Rose lowered her head and closed her eyes. “I’ll wait…”

Author's Note

Art, as always, is by my wonderfully fantastically talented SO Koda.