Chapters Canterlot, City Of The Dead
Author's Note
This is a part of the Jest Days of Christmas , where I update something every single day of December. Go check out the link for the full list and check back everyday for a new update!
Morose Musings
Dawn rarely came to Canterlot anymore.
Between the death fog and the constant cloud cover very little light emerged and what did break through the grey skies landed upon a city that death forgot. With no solar guidance helping the citizens of Canterlot, most learned a simple spell to ensure they awoke from whatever slumber their breed of dead could manage.
For Rarity, that meant the soft tinkling of chimes could be heard just above her head, awakening her from the deep, trancelike state she induced in herself every night. Flames suddenly sprung into being behind the eyeholes of the helmet that was her head, signaling that the revenant had risen. Stretching an armored hoof to the sky, Rarity let out a long, and altogether unnecessary yawn, one that grew to the point that her entire plate mail body stretched like a cat.
Her body clanked unexpectedly as she stretched, a loose strap that usually secured the breastplate to the rest of her body had come loose sometime during the night. Looking down, Rarity sighed, the sound reverberating through her metal body until her voice gained a strange, almost otherworldly tone to it.
“It's every night with you.” She remarked, the metal horn built into her head lighting up and attaching the strap to its necessary place.
The revenant stood and looked around the room while continuing to stretch and slowly wake up, even though her metal joints needed no prompting to shake off the grogginess of sleep.
“You know, I think I’m finally starting to enjoy my little meditation sessions these days.” She commented to the empty room.
With a flash of her horn, she dismissed the alarm enchantment that had been tinkling overhead and began to look around her suite. The room was as opulent as ever, befitting a private chamber in Canterlot castle, though Rarity noted that it had changed significantly since she had first taken up residence here almost nine years ago. The colors were now muted, and darkened to the point that they were completely different from the vibrant shades that had once adorned the castle. This was due in part to the fact that the dreary light that so rarely pierced the cloud cover meant that only the brightest color stood out, and most creatures found such brightness repugnant.
Nowadays the colors were chosen to better work with the deep blue of the magelight that illuminated the halls, the streets, and most houses. With no manner of candle-making possible, and little to no light coming from the sky, no matter the time of day, most had gotten used to the unnatural blue flames that dotted every corner of Canterlot. Rarity on the other hoof, had detested the lights for a long time, but now that she had lived among them for so long she had to admit she too had at least gotten used to their presence.
They represented an interesting challenge when it came to decorating, as well as creating anything for that matter, as whatever colors she chose needed to work with the blue of magelight. Silver, grey, black, and those kinds of muted colors worked well with the royal blue, though Rarity was ever daring and had gone so far as to experiment with purples and violets that played off the blue light quite well.
Reaching for a duster, Rarity ran it across the window sill, her bookcases, and both dressers she kept, making sure to pay extra attention to the plethora of picture frames that dotted the dressers. Stopping for a moment Rarity picked up one of the pictures and stared down at the drawing of her sister, memories of a distant time flashing through her mind. She had kept no actual pictures when she had first gone to Canterlot all those years ago, and what with the wall being what it was, Rarity had to settle for an artist’s representation of her sister and family rather than a true photo.
Along the same dresser pictures of her friends and family were spread out randomly, each one being of a happier time and each one painted, drawn, or otherwise created by an artist, rather than a camera. Some of the ponies of Canterlot had gotten rather good at the art of drawing based only on description, meaning that nearly all of the images were perfect, though one artist had added just a little too much weight to Rarity’s father. Something she thought was rather fitting, as he had started to put on weight the last time they saw each other in the flesh.
The revenant chuckled at her own joke, something she would never admit to, as she feared Pinkie Pie would start cracking even more corpse jokes than she already did. Placing the picture back on the dresser, the suit of armor sighed and made sure there was no dust marring the frames before reluctantly putting away the duster, which wasn't the least bit dirty.
Turning back around, Rarity made a note once more over the fact that her room felt empty without a bed, even though she could not sleep, and would undoubtedly destroy any bed she laid upon. Instead, there was a large meditation rug laid out in front of the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows, which were still obscured by the shades she had installed years ago. The rug had a depiction of a starry night sewn into it, which also contained the cutie marks of both herself and her family hidden amongst the stars.
It was beautiful, and Rarity hated it.
Trotting up to the windows, Rarity raised her metal hoof and drew the shades, revealing the deep grey skyline of Canterlot. The perpetual darkness that hung over their city was oppressive as ever, something that Rarity’s eyes hardly even noticed anymore, as the sentient suit of armor could see no matter how dark it was. Logically she knew the fog was still there, but something made her stop and realize that it had begun to let up a little bit since last she looked.
She could see further than before, and she noted that there was also more light than usual. If Rarity could, she knew she would be smiling right now, but without lips or even a face for that matter, the suit of armor was forced to express its joy via a happy little squeal that sounded akin to two metal joints grinding together.
“Oh, this is wonderful! I wonder if Twilight’s tests were correct and the fog really will lift completely soon?” She asked the empty room.
The suit of armor imagined itself grinning as it stared out over the city, its gaze lingering on the many stone, and some metal structures that rose over their closest fellows. The damage that had been wrought during the black wedding had been fixed, but without the access to timber, or any other building material save stone and steel, the scars left behind by that fateful day were still visible if you knew where to look. However, that wasn't the only thing that had changed in Canterlot, as despite the population not growing a single iota in the nine years, new buildings still sprung up all across the city.
With little else to do, and the population having already been dramatically lowered before they had joined the ranks of the dead, every pony that wanted one had been given a house to themself, and spiraling additions, and massive, semi-private structures dotted the Canterlot cityscape. With no worries about rent, or a need to feed one’s self, most citizens had been able to indulge in their desires for fabulous homes and expansive villas. Almost every last one of which was built in the new style that the few remaining architects had dubbed Gothic Deco.
Rarity found it utterly repulsive and was only too glad that as part of the inner circle, she was more or less confined to the castle, ineligible to receive one of the many garish mansions and large houses that filled nearly every last square inch of Canterlot. Not that Rarity really blamed the ponies of Canterlot for wanting the new buildings, or Twilight for approving them, as a large, dead, and empty city had been even more depressing than the spiraling towers and lavish houses that had been built.
At least now there were fewer houses, but also fewer empty ones, and that was a win in Rarity’s book.
The suit of armor clanged a hoof upside her helmet before giving her head a shake, suddenly realizing she had been staring for a great number of minutes.
“Stay together Rarity, we have places to be today remember?” She reminded herself, forcing her hooves to land one in front of the other until she found herself before the bathroom door.
Using her steel hoof, the revenant pushed open the door to reveal a completely average bathroom, save for the lack of a toilet. She had no need for such an object after all, and with age no longer being a concern to the suit of armor, Rarity had petitioned successfully for the toilet’s removal, as it stood as little more than as a reminder for all that she had lost since her transformation.
Instead, the bathroom had a standard sink, as well as a large shower that was big enough to contain her entire metal bulk with ease. Turning to the sink, Rarity looked into the mirror, her gaze immediately latching onto the twin mauve flames that were now her eyes.
The twin orbs of fire twisted this way and that as she moved around her head, her attention temporarily fixed on the glowing objects. They were perhaps the strangest part of her transformation, and though she could not and did not need to blink, the orbs were otherwise a near-perfect replacement for her eyes.
They shrunk when Rarity was shocked, grew when she was angry, and flickered when confused, displaying the emotion Rarity’s unmoving, unchangeable steel face could not. Sighing to herself, the revenant turned her attention to the rest of her helmet slash head.
It was a standard helmet for the guard some two centuries ago, with a large grill of many thin slats of steel, which covered where her mouth would be, something that had been welded shut when the suit had been become a mere decoration over a century ago. Twin slats allowed a perfect field of view for Rarity’s flames, though the suit of armor was unsure if that would have been true if she were wearing the helmet rather than having her soul inhabit that same helmet. Though initially lacking any such minor design changes or personal touches, Rarity had altered much from the original, bland design.
The simple steel horn protector had been modified significantly, adding a swirling bush of roses that crawled up the object, having been engraved along the horn’s length and ending at the very tip with a large flowering rose. The gorget of her armor also bore the relief of her cutie mark, something she chose not to look at most of the time, silently hating the fact that it was one of the few things others could use to discern her from the other revenants that called the city home. Though the armor bore many other small, but noticeable artistic changes, Rarity didn't bother focusing on them and instead summoned her magic, her horn protector alighting with a familiar teal glow.
From the other room, a drawer opened and several bows, feathers, sashes as well as the odd nick nack levitated over to her, floating next to the revenant as she tried each one on individually. The bows were a little too extravagant, though their color was predictably muted, as the mere act of adding a bow felt at odds with her mediocre mood. As she continued to try on accessory after accessory, she quickly found herself latching onto a bright red sash that draped across her shoulders and hung down her body as well as a steel rose that she used her magic to clamp to the spot just above where her right ear would be.
Turning this way and that, Rarity gave her appearance a thorough inspection before nodding contentedly.
“You still got it Rarity.” She whispered.
Turning from the bathroom, Rarity made her way over to the other room and picked up the small notepad she had written her schedule on. Noticing that there was nothing official to do for several hours and only a single meeting on the docket, she turned and chose to use some of her free time working on more of the flowers she had become famous for, one of which she now wore.
Dropping the pad of paper randomly on the floor, Rarity trotted across the room, not even noticing the distinct clank her hooves made against the stone. Pulling a box from the shelf, the mare stared out the window as she pulled one of the unfinished metal objects from the box. Taking it in her magic, Rarity began to use her hooves to bend the leaves into position almost entirely by muscle memory. She had no true artistic desire but instead was driven only by a need to fill time, and if she was lucky, make a few other creatures happy when they were given one of her creations.
True, the flower was little more than a cruel facsimile of a living rose, but that was something no one in Canterlot could get or grow anymore, and this was, unfortunately, the best anyone could do. Thinking of the joy she may bring to her fellow undead helped her through it, and Rarity even managed to muster the creative drive necessary to ensure that each one of her metal flowers were different, and unique, even if that difference was small and barely noticeable to most.
She was about to pick up another pile of scrap metal, and begin the arduous process of bending it into a more pleasing shape, but when she gripped the metal in her hooves, she felt no drive to continue. Placing the metal scrap back into it's box off to the side, Rarity delicately picked up the flowers she had completed before making her way over to the otherside of the room and dumping them into a large box next to the door.
The flowers joined an ever growing pile of their fake brethren, clanking audibly and alerting the revenant to the fact that the box was very nearly full once more. Sighing to herself, Rarity pulled off a sticky note, grabbed a pen, and quickly wrote herself a note that reminded her to bring the flowers to her assistant Coco for distribution. She was about to stick it to the wall above the box, only to realize that three such sticky notes saying identical things were already stuck there.
With a shrug, she stuck the fourth note next to the others. “I really should bring these to Coco, I bet the dear is worried sick about me.” The revenant paused and tried to remember how long it had been since they had seen one another.
Shrugging once more, Rarity abandoned that line of thinking entirely, no longer able to muster the effort necessary to even care about the time between visits, as there was little reason to care about time itself anymore. Making her way over to the door, Rarity paused when she lifted her hoof, wondering just where she was going, and indeed why.
Sure her routine had been to go out into the castle, to greet her favorite guards before going down to the maid’s area and getting today’s juicy gossip, but like most days, she had no true desire to actually do any of that. In the end, she reasoned it was better than sitting in her room staring at a wall, and with resignation weighing heavy on her shoulders, the revenant pushed open the door only to immediately stop when her eyes rested on a familiar sight, one that she had not seen hide nor hair of in a long time.
“Spike?”
Canterlot, City Of The Dead
Rarity stared in confused silence at the dragon waiting for her on the other side of the door. Slightly lumpy, and misshapen, with a major limp, the dragon had changed considerably after the Black Wedding. The full extent of his alterations wasn't obvious due to the heavy brown leather cloak that covered the majority of his form.
That still left his oddly proportioned hands, mismatched eyes, and lumpy back visible though Rarity didn't stare. She had seen the stitch marks, assisted in the grim sewing, and had even gathered up the meaty chunks of the dismembered dragon upon his death. The grim memories of having to knit bone, suture dead flesh, and piece one of her oldest friends back together may have bothered Rarity at one point. Now, however, she had gotten used to looking at the stitch-covered drake and felt no revulsion, fear, or guilt.
Though she wasn't sure if that was due to the fact that she had been dead for nearly a decade, or if she was genuinely used to seeing Spike in his current form. It wasn't that far-fetched, as she had seen him post-death via evisceration for longer than she had pre-murder. Though not in the least bit perturbed by the young drake’s appearance, Rarity still wondered if she could at least make him some better clothes.
“Hey Rarity, Rarity? Are you there?” Spike called.
Rarity’s flaming eyes winked out briefly before turning down to Spike.
“Yes, what is it darling?” Rarity asked.
“Oh uh, good,” Spike murmured, tapping his claws together. “You were staring off into um, space for ah uh…. While.”
“So I was,” Rarity muttered. “Did you need something?”
“Right, I uh…” Spike gulped and shifted from one foot to the other. “We um, need to talk.”
“And so we are,” Rarity declared.
“Y-yeah I guess but that's uh, not exactly what I meant,” Spike murmured. “I mean that T-twilight needs to t-talk to you.”
“Really now?” Rarity mused aloud. “Does this mean she has indeed made headway on the cloud, and the barrier?”
“It's um, confusing,” Spike admitted, the dragon scratching his head with a claw. “She t-told me to t-t-tell you that she is though.”
“Lovely. Just like last time I presume?” Rarity asked.
Spike shook his head vigorously. “N-no! Not like, l-last time.”
Rarity's eyes grew brighter. “Then it was real progress, not whatever nebulous mambo jumbo that she rambled about for nearly an hour.”
“H-hey!” Spike exclaimed. “That was imp-p-p.”
Spike clenched his jaw hard and breathed in and out several times.
“Important,” he spat.
Rarity sighed. “I’m sorry Spike. You know Twilight's technical explanations always go over my head.”
“Y-yeah but you…” Spike gulped. “You were barely even there for the last meeting.”
“I didn't move a muscle that entire time,” Rarity retorted. “Not as though I have any to begin with, mind you.”
“Rarity we were talking about you,” Spike whispered, the dragon clutching at his long leather coat tightly. “Like, a lot, and you d-d-didn't n-notice.”
Rarity shrugged. “I don't mind what is said about me. If you wish to talk about me, you may. It's still at least sort of a free country.”
Spike sighed. His arms fell, his shoulders relaxed, and the fight left him completely.
“J-just meet us at the c-c-cou-coun,” Spike clenched his jaw and scrunched up his features. “Council chambers.”
“When?” Rarity replied.
“Five, P.M.,” Spike answered.
“Ceremonial or not, I suppose I should attend this summons,” Rarity murmured absently, her gaze already drifting off, and becoming unfocused. “At least then I at least have the chance of getting a straight answer out of Twilight over this whole fog business.”
“I c-c-can't say anymore,” Spike muttered. “You’ll just have t-t-to uh… come to the meeting.”
“That was evasive darling. You wouldn't happen to be hiding something, like say how Twilight is going to make some big new announcement perhaps, would you?” Rarity asked.
Spike shook his head vigorously, causing his spines to flap left and right. “I c-c-can't s-s-s” Spike paused. “Say.”
“Hmm, that is an interesting way of putting it,” Rarity remarked.
“Please, just c-c-ome to the uh, the meeting,” Spike murmured.
Rarity nodded slowly. “If it is the mistresses’ will then I shall be there.”
“Th-thank you um, Rarity,” Spike stuttered.
The dragon then smiled faintly before ambling down the hallway, his lopsided frame making his steps longer than they needed to be. Rarity watched him go for a few seconds, though she was barely even paying attention to the dragon himself. Rather her mind was distant, flashes of the last few meetings popping into her head.
Her friends had been there, as they always had, alongside the rest of the rulers of Canterlot. They had talked about the goings on of the city for what had felt like ages but could have been mere minutes. Rarity struggled to pay them any attention and had increasingly stared off into space.
She hadn't even tried to do so, at least mostly, it simply wasn't that interesting, and she had no real responsibility or say in the matters. So she had spent the time mentally redecorating the council chambers for what felt like the millionth time. This time she concluded that deeper purples were definitely needed and that they should move to an overall heavier use of gold accents.
The sound of approaching hooves startled Rarity out of her haze, and she turned to find that she was no longer alone. One of the maids was pushing a cart piled high with cleaning supplies toward the revenant. Unlike Rarity, the maid was not a creature of magic and metal, but rather necromancy and flesh.
Her shambling gait didn't slow her down, and she soon passed Rarity by, nodding to the other undead as she did so. Rarity returned the gesture and was about to offer a polite greeting, only to find herself unable to muster the effort. So she left, the revenant attempting to return to her usual habit of greeting guards, and speaking to her favorite castle staff.
Only to find that yet again, she couldn't bring herself to bother, and simply nodded, or offered a polite wave whenever she met someone. Eventually, she reached the kitchens, a seldom used but still buzzing source of interest and gossip. Though the number of ponies who ate was remarkably low, that hadn't changed the fact that everyone looking to spill some tea gathered there.
Usually, Rarity would ask around, trying to find something new and chatting about any of the castle's happenings. As before, she didn't have the effort, and decided to keep walking, extending her wander from the castle to the grounds beyond. Only to pass through the always open gates out into the city proper, her wandering mind guiding her metal hooves into Canterlot itself.
She wasn't sure why, but she felt possessed to see the city that had become her home for the last decade with her own fiery orbs. The view from the castle was a good one and allowed one to gaze down upon almost the complete totality of the sprawling settlement. However, when one did so, they couldn't see all the smaller details visible only when one left the grounds of that ancient fort.
Passing by stoney-eyed guards, and the small line of ponies waiting to speak to the day council, Rarity ignored everyone. Familiar creatures attempted to get her attention, to engage her in small talk but Rarity brushed them aside. Her gaze had become distant but focused, her hooves picking up speed as a destination began to solidify in her mind.
Within a few minutes, she reached it, or at least the entrance to it. There, just before her was a large iron gate with a sign above it that welcomed them to the ‘Ever Free Cemetary’. Near the edge of the city, built on the grounds of what had once been a sprawling mansion, the resting place jutted out from the side of the mountain.
The red-eyed revenant standing at the gate lit their horn, and the iron bars parted, allowing Rarity entrance. Rarity herself merely nodded to the other undead before stepping through, her attention focused on what lay ahead. The red-eyed revenant merely nodded back, and after Rarity had passed them by, shut the gate behind the fashionista.
Walking down the long, winding path, Rarity was barely even aware of her surroundings. She passed by statues, graves, and even the marker that indicated where the mansion had once stood. The charming epitaph for the site once called Cliff Point Manor usually garnered at least a glance though not this time.
She just kept walking until she nearly reached the edge of the property and Canterlot itself. Here a tall iron fence kept everyone who didn't have wings in while a magical barrier ensured those with wings were unable to leave. If it wasn't there, there wouldn't be far to go, however, as it was only thirty or so metres from the larger bubble that kept Canterlot and the deathfog filling its streets, cordoned off from the rest of Equestria.
Here the graves were few, and the gardens many, the grim flowers within extending their dark pedals to the mostly sunless sky. Though beautiful, Rarity only had eyes for a single spot, one that was marked with a familiar name. Stopping a few feet away from the small, plain white tombstone, Rarity looked down at the spot marked as her final resting place.
Her full name was emblazoned atop the stone, along with three different dates. One marked her birth, the other, her death, and finally the last was for her sudden return to life only a day after she had died. It was a grim spot, but for some reason looking down on it brought Rarity a strange feeling of calm.
Here she could think, here she could ruminate on why exactly she felt so strange and directionless lately. Or at least, she hoped as much, for the odd melancholy, and increasingly distracted gaze was beginning to bother the undead mare. She knew the chill of death and the confusion and anxiety of returning from one’s end, and that would have been a relief from what she now felt.
She stared down at the grave, noting idly that by now her corpse was likely worm food. There might be bones left, but that would be about it at this point in her body’s decomposition. The thought was a grim one, but didn't bother Rarity at all, as it wasn't the first time she had considered it.
Realizing that she was trying to distract herself as a form of self-sabotage aimed at keeping her from actually getting to the bottom of her issue, Rarity shook her head. With her thoughts now loose and rolling about the inside of her skull, Rarity examined them in a bit more of a focused manner.
She felt like moving, the anxious thoughts giving her a twitchy energy that kept her firmly locked away. She also had a desire to return to her room, draw the blinds, and lay on her meditating rug for the next week. Furthermore, she also felt an urge to simply let her mind go, to no longer resist the siren song of the void, and just stare off into space until there was nothing left.
This last feeling was not one she was born with, at least not the first time anyway. Once she had been brought back to life, Rarity became intimately familiar with the sensation. All revenants felt it, the comfort that came with just standing there, staring off into space. Some felt an urge to guard something of importance, others just wanted to watch until they had let go of themselves. As the malaise of existence settled over Rarity she felt that urge more keenly, though she also felt it when she was apprehensive.
Rarity glanced up at the thinning wall of death fog, and the barrier beyond, her mind churning.
“I’m anxious,” she muttered aloud. “For the first time in a decade, something is changing.”
It was a simple answer, but it had also been a simple question.
With those final gears clicking into place, Rarity felt the haze begin to lift and she summoned her own mental fortitude to banish more of it. The fog that had hung heavy over her mind was brushed mostly aside, with only the barest traces of its existence remaining. She felt better, good even as if she had awoken from a long dream that she had struggled to fully leave.
She was about to turn around and leave when she noticed that a small self-propelled aircraft had come into view. It resembled one of the contraptions Pinkie Pie had made, only far more well-refined, with a space large enough for four ponies to stand. These four individuals were all unicorns, and they seemed to be inspecting the barrier if the glow of their horns was anything to go by.
Another shake of her head, and Rarity trotted back the way she had come, stopping at the exit. After waiting for the gate to open, Rarity had been about to continue on her way back to the castle when she stopped herself.
“Say, soldier,” Rarity began, turning fully to the revenant at the entrance. “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course,” they replied. “You may call me Sure Shod, or just Shod for short if you’d like.”
“And I am Rarity, as you may have already guessed,” Rarity replied.
They nodded. “We had, and what do you need ma’am?”
“I was just wondering if you had family or friends out there,” Rarity exclaimed, gesturing toward the barrier that kept them inside.
“I was lucky in a way,” Sure Shod began. “My family was all here, and after the return, I had found that my mother had come back.”
“That's… good,” Rarity muttered.
“I mean don't get me wrong, its still a tragedy and I did have a few friends who I haven't seen since then but it could have been worse,” Sure Shod exclaimed.
“I’m sure they are still alive out there, somewhere,” Rarity encouraged.
“I hope so, though I’m more hopeful that my mother is able to recover and finally leave the home,” Sure Shod remarked, their voice falling somewhat. “Dad was thrilled she had returned, but she had been gone too long. Couldn't handle suddenly returning to life ya know?”
Rarity would have winced had she the muscles to do so. “I’m sure she’ll get better eventually.”
“That's the hope. Honestly though so long as I’ve got my dad, my sisters, and my aunts I’ll be fine. A shame the family line won't continue, but we’ve got forever to wait for this deathfog to depart, and we can adopt,” Sure Shod declared.
“It's nice to hear someone who isn't taking our current predicament too harshly,” Rarity offered.
Sure Shod nodded. “Ain't much point to being dour, says Da. Either pick yourself up or just lay there till the earth is ready to take ya.”
“All good advice,” Rarity added.
“Ya, that old stallion still has some wisdom left in him,” Sure Shod remarked. “But I shouldn't keep you any longer.”
“I probably should be going,” Rarity admitted.
“Just a word of advice. Hold onto that feeling of hope. It keeps those grey thoughts away but only if you keep it fed and bright,” Sure Shod offered.
“I’ll take that to heart, Sir Shod,” Rarity exclaimed.
“Ha, now wouldn't that be nice? Sir Shod, it has a nice ring to it,” murmured the revenant to himself.
Rarity gave the other undead a nod before trotting away, Sure Shod’s words rolling around in Rarity’s mind. A pleasant warmth bloomed in her midsection as she ruminated on what he had said. A warmth that would have made her smile, had she the muscles necessary to do so.\
Author's Note
This is a part of the Jest Days of Christmas , where I update something every single day of December. Go check out the link for the full list and check back everyday for a new update!
Canterlot, City Of The Dead
So wrapped up in her own thoughts was the undead mare that she was barely even aware of her surroundings. There was only the soft clank of her hooves against the stone road leading back to Castle Canterlot. Eventually, it was those same metal hooves that made her thoughts grow dark, prompting her mind to wander down a shadowy path.
She could feel it coming, could sense her gaze turning to the void yet she couldn't help but stare into it regardless. In an instant, she was no longer trodding down a road in Canterlot, a small crowd of fellow undead passing her by and going about their business. Rather she was back in Canterlot Castle as well as back in time, to a point when she was flesh and blood though that wouldn't be the case for long.
She could feel herself running, and she could feel the shame of such an action. Under her hooves was a rug twisted about due to the press of bodies ahead of her all fleeing for the exit. Behind her, in the throne room where she and her friends had been meeting Celestia lay the body of the alicorn herself.
Rarity could remember the ancient mare’s wide, vacant eyes, her horror-filled expression forever burned into Rarity’s memories. The seamstress didn't know how the changeling assassin had breached the castle’s defenses nor was Rarity aware of how the entire city was under attack. She also had no idea what spell Twilight was casting, but given the fact that she had vaporized a dozen changelings as well as a few innocent bystanders Rarity wasn't going to stick around to find out.
So she ran, fleeing down the hall with a dozen other terrified ponies all seeking shelter. Then a cry went out, and suddenly Rarity had her back to a flaring Twilight, and her face to a changeling assassin. Before Rarity could blink a dagger was plunged into her belly, and she stumbled into an alcove, toppling over the ancestral armor that had been displayed within.
Staring in horror, Rarity watched as a nearby guard cut down the changeling but not before the shapeshifter slit the throat of a maid who didn't have time to run. As the changeling hit the ground, dead, Rarity felt relief, though that relief turned into weakness. She glanced down at the pool of blood forming around her and the set of armor she was clinging to. Like a life raft amidst a turbulent storm, Rarity held onto the metal suit with whatever strength she had left.
Around her, the guards, and staff had started to give what manner of medical care they could, though none came for Rarity. The fashionista could only watch as they tried to staunch the flow of blood pouring from the maid’s throat. Then, just as a nervous-looking young butler began to approach her, the memory was interrupted by the thud of Rarity walking into something.
Rarity shook her head and looked around for the first time. With the haze more or less lifted, Rarity realized she had accidentally run into a tall zombified mare standing guard near the throne room.
“Ya’ll right there, miss?” Rumbled the towering mass of half-rotten flesh.
“Yes, I… I’m fine,” Rarity dismissed. “Just, lost in thought I’m afraid.”
“You revenants sure do that a lot,” muttered the guard.
“Yes well, the past is a bit rosier than the present. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have an appointment I must be getting to,” Rarity exclaimed.
“Right. Some kinda big council meeting eh?” the guard remarked. “They warned us you’d be coming. Go right on in.”
Rarity looked over to find that the other guard, a gangly, pale ghast had already opened the doors to the throne room for her.
“Err thank you both,” Rarity muttered.
The revenant then trotted past the pair, walking into the throne room, but stopping halfway. The empty, broken throne where Celestia had sat lay half destroyed, its pieces still left scattered about the backside of the room. In the middle, where the supplicants usually stood and made their case, lay a large round table surrounded by chairs. A few feet back was a second nearly complete circle of sitting spaces occupied by various aides and less important undead.
Less important when compared to those who sat at the round, onyx black table in the middle of the room and especially less important than the pony who sat at its head, directly in front of where the desecrated thrones still stood. Those of greater importance were known to Rarity, unlike the small crowd of helpers that sat on the fringes, waiting to be called on. These individuals were her friends or had once been her friends, she wasn't quite sure what they were to one another these days.
From Twilight's right to the lich queen’s left were:
Rainbow Dash, the specter, who floated above the table with her two remaining limbs crossed angrily over her chest. Her prismatic coloration was gone, replaced by a light blue like that of a particularly faded teal sheet. Though she still had her forehooves, her back legs and entire bottom half were gone, replaced by wispy trails that moved on some unseen wind.
Next to the spectral undead was at first glance a mass of animal corpses mashed into the rough shape of a pony. No stitching or other artificial means of fusion were found, the various animals simply blended into one another. Though they appeared dead, occasionally one of them would twitch, or their empty eyes would look around. Fluttershy didn't seem to mind this, and simply smiled at Rarity, revealing a row of teeth made from a dozen different creatures.
Beside her was an animated pile of bones that had been painted pink at one point. Pinkie Pie, still needed no introduction, with the excitable skeleton bouncing up and down on her seat. Though she lacked any lungs, she still gasped when she looked at Rarity, the bony undead’s flaming teal orbs growing slightly larger within their sockets.
Next to the twitching pink bones was a rotting mass of flesh large enough to tower over nearly everyone present. Applejack frowned at Rarity, or at least the seamstress assumed she was frowning, as Applejack sported two heads. Two halves of one head to be more specific, the pony’s skull having been cleaved in twain by a changeling axe. Though one may assume this got in the way of things, Applejack had enough coordination by then to keep herself together.
Then finally there was the lich queen herself, Twilight Sparkle. The least corpselike of the bunch, Twilight had changed very little from when she was alive. Her hair was now black and hung over half her face, her skin was pale, and most of her fur had turned white after her death. The lone visible eye was sunken deep into her skull, large dark rings surrounded it, and a faint wisp of purple billowed out from the orb. She wore no clothes or accessories save for an iron tiara with four large spikes that had been bolted onto her head.
Rarity plunked down in the lone available seat which rested directly to Twilight's left, the chair groaning under the seamstress’ weight.
“So glad you could join us,” Twilight droned, her voice even and monotone.
“Apologies,” Rarity began, ducking into a different nod. “I let my thoughts wander.”
“That's not good,” Fluttershy pointed out. “You really should speak to someone at the home.”
“Don't waste your breathe Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash interrupted. “Rarity will just keep staring off into space until she ends up empty.”
“I will not end up like Stalwart Silver,” Rarity retorted. “I still have things to bind me.”
“Well, one of those things sure ain't friendship. When was the last time you even talked to one of us anyway? Oh, that's right, the last time we had one of these council meetings,” Rainbow Dash declared, floating over the table and jabbing a ghostly hoof at Rarity.
“Nah,” Applejack interrupted. “We’ve done a few of these without her being here. Rarity doesn't exactly add much anyway.”
“Hey let's not fight okay?” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “She's here, we’re here. Let's just like, chill.”
“I agree. Besides, there is important news, or so Twilight has eluded to anyway,” Fluttershy exclaimed, glancing at the lich at the forefront of the group.
“Yes, there is,” Twilight agreed.
“Oh? Did you find a way to dismiss the fog, and get us out of this dome?” Rarity asked pointedly.
“No, I have not,” Twilight replied tiredly. “Though I am continuing to work on it.”
“Why must you always harp on that?” Rainbow Dash complained. “You know very well that it isn't cleared. You’d see it through every window if it were!”
“It ain't her fault she’s hopeful this mess would be resolved. It's been years,” Applejack retorted, shooting Twilight a glare out of the corner of her eye.
“I’ve told you a million times,” Twilight tiredly began. “The death fog is self-replicating. I’ve only just barely stopped the chain reaction that has perpetuated it for so long. Fully dismissing it will take time.”
“I suppose we have plenty of that,” Rarity remarked.
“Yeah we got time, so just like relax or whatever,” Pinkie Pie declared, the skeleton not picking up the undercurrent of anger in Rarity’s voice.
“We have to think of the environmental impact of the shield going down. We simply aren't ready for that,” Fluttershy declared, the undead mare displaying none of the shyness she was once known for.
“You know it's not a simple thing yet you keep talking about it like Twilight can just wave her hoof and fix everything. Well, she can't. No one can,” Rainbow Dash proclaimed. “And the fact that you still seem to insist that it's all her fault makes me wonder just how much of your mind is left in that hollow shell.”
“Rainbow Dash,” Twilight Sparkle whispered. “That is quite enough. Sit back down, please.”
The spectral undead flew back to her spot and sat as well as her form could allow. Though she grumbled, Rainbow Dash said nothing, as did the rest of the ponies present. That was until Twilight cleared her throat and leaned forward, resting her forehooves on the table.
“Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to discuss the pressing news I mentioned earlier,” Twilight began.
“Yeah, get on with it already. I got mushrooms to grow,” Applejack demanded.
Twilight sighed.
“Well, as some of you have been able to tell, something has changed recently and that thing is that I’ve been in contact with Luna,” Twilight declared.
“Wait, like for real for real? No jokes?” Pinkie Pie asked, her voice filled with hope.
“You know I can't lie to you girls anymore,” Twilight replied.
“That's… wow,” Pinkie Pie murmured, falling back into her chair and staring up at the ceiling.
“That's all well and good but this is only a good thing if it doesn't end up like the first time this happened,” Applejack pointed out.
“That was… unpleasant,” Fluttershy murmured.
Rarity remembered the angry, tear-filled tirade Luna had directed at the council through a viewing screen erected over her throne. The seamstress-turned-blacksmith recalled the alicorn’s demands to return her sister’s body and Twilight's stern refusal. What followed was a screaming match that ended with Luna declaring that they would never be allowed out of the barrier that had been erected to contain the death fog Twilight had inadvertently created.
“Hmmm, most unpleasant,” Rarity agreed.
“It's not like that this time,” Twilight explained. “I’ve been able to convince Luna to hold a peace conference of sorts.”
“But the dome can't be lifted, not yet,” Fluttershy urgently declared.
“The barrier would not fall immediately,” Twilight replied. “For now those who would enter, or leave would do so through the highest point of the shield where the fog is too thin to escape or harm anyone.”
“We… we could leave?” Rarity whispered.
“It's a possibility,” Twilight answered, the mare raising a hoof. “Though I should warn you, it's not a very likely one. Luna seemed hesitant to agree to my terms but when we left things the option was at least on the table, as was the very distant possibility of rejoining Equestria.”
“We could rejoin Equestria? Thats… I don't know what to say,” Applejack muttered, the zombie muttered, gazing off in the direction of Ponyville.
“Oh goodie! I have so many parties I’ve missed!” Pinkie Pie shouted. “I’m going to have to start planning one mega party for Pound and Pumpkin, oh and my sisters too!”
“Girls please,” Twilight interrupted.
Immediately all conversation ended and everyone present turned to Twilight expectantly.
“This is only a small group of dignitaries, and most importantly, Luna won't be amongst them,” Twilight continued. “That doesn't mean we can slack though. Rarity, you’ll be serving as the tour guide for the Equestrians.”
“Equestrians,” Rarity muttered. “I thought I’d wear such a title for as long as I lived. Though I suppose in a way, that was exactly what happened.”
“Oh don't worry Rarity. Once we’re able to join the rest of Equestria we can be Equestrians again! For now, we just gotta be happy being Canterlotians!” Pinkie Pie proclaimed, the skeleton using one dismembered hoof gripping the other to pat Rarity’s shoulder from across the table.
“Yes, well we’ll discuss that later. For now, you girls must know your roles, continuing with Pinkie Pie,” Twilight continued, pointing to the skeleton. “You’ll be handling the major events.”
“Yipee!” Pinkie Pie squealed.
“Lemme guess, I’ll be in charge of feeding them,” Applejack exclaimed.
“You are correct,” Twilight agreed. “Though they will have rations, I want to impress upon them that we have more than enough food production to support at least a small population of living ponies should they choose to live here.”
“I’ll be handling security,” Rainbow Dash declared, the specter puffing out her nonexistent chest.
“I suppose the head of the secret police would make for the perfect security guard,” Applejack remarked with a smirk.
“Hey, it's not secret!” Rainbow Dash retorted.
“That ain't the come back you think it is you dunderhead,” Applejack shot back.
“Cut it out,” Twilight interrupted, glaring at Rainbow Dash and then Applejack before finally turning her gaze away. “Right, and Fluttershy you have no official role in this event. Other than simply keeping a close eye on the homes. I don't want some poor soul breaking containment and scaring the breathers.”
“Breathers, how quaint. A slur for the living,” Applejack muttered.
“Thank you, Twilight. I will do that,” Fluttershy interrupted, shooting Applejack a side glance.
Rarity wanted to offer some kind of retort or her own two cents but she couldn't bring herself to say or do anything. Instead, she just stared off into space, her inner turmoil spilling over until she was completely absorbed into the miasma that was her own mind. Receding back from her senses, Rarity grappled with the news she had just been delivered.
Hope. She had it in a small amount before when change had first reared its head but now, now it was real. Not only was there the chance that she could return to her old life, but she could also see her family. Family. Now that was something she could scarcely ever think about without receding so far into her mind that she lost multiple days in a row.
Sweetie Belle would be older, much older, an adult, and not just an adult but about the age that Rarity had been when she died. That thought alone shook the undead mare to her core, and though grim, it was also kind of amusing in a weird way. Rarity wondered if Sweetie looked much different to her, as they had always shared a certain resemblance.
What would her cutie mark be? Had she followed down a similar path to Rarity, or had she learned to embrace her skill for singing? The money Rarity had left behind had been fairly sizable. Not enough to secure the filly’s future forever, but enough to make things easy on the family for a while, so there was little worry that they had ended up poverty-stricken.
That was assuming a lot of things that Rarity couldn't know the details of given the complete information blockade with the outside world. What had things been like? Had the war against the changelings ended? What was the economy like these days? Were they still geared fully for conflict or was their room for things like designer boutiques, and singers?
And her parents, what about her parents?
Rarity knew that they had been fairly young when they had her but they were probably getting on in years at this point. Their exact birthdays couldn't be recalled by the undead mare, her memories having become fuzzy and muted with time. Yet as she dug Rarity was able to dredge up enough random bits of information that she could safely assume they were in their mid-fifties.
That wasn't too old, in Rarity’s estimation. They were likely still alive provided some manner of travesty had not assaulted them. A possibility that was real, but still rather unlikely. They weren't fighting age so they weren't likely to have been drafted, if that were a thing to even begin with.
These thoughts, concerns, and worries swirled inward, looping back around and leading to a recursive pattern that left Rarity unable to escape. Time passed by unnoticed by the revenant who continued to sit there staring straight ahead until the room was almost completely empty. Only when it was but her and Twilight Sparkle did Rarity snap back, and that was only after the lich queen issued an order.
“Pay attention,” Twilight demanded.
Rarity shook her head, and looked around, quickly coming to the realization that some time had passed.
“How long was I out?” Rarity whispered.
“Nearly two hours. Everyone else is gone,” Twilight replied.
Rarity nodded mutely.
“Rarity, I gave you the job of tour guide because I trusted that you could brush over the rougher parts of Canterlot but if you don't think you are up to it I can find someone else,” Twilight offered, her comment both pointed yet concerned at the same time.
“No!” Rarity shouted, only to recoil. “I mean no, I can handle it. I just… got a little overwhelmed. I haven't let myself consider the possibility of seeing my family again so when you mentioned there was a chance I…”
“I get it,” Twilight exclaimed. “But I still have concerns. You’ve been disassociating more and more lately. No one sees you for weeks and when you do come out you seem to snap at everyone you meet.”
“I’ve been…” Rarity tried to think of some excuse but she couldn't think of a single one that sounded even halfway plausible.
“Now, I don't want to have to order you to tell me what you’re thinking but I will if I must,” Twilight warned, her voice tinged with worry.
“I…” Rarity mimicked a long, slow exhale, her mind relaxing even though she had no lungs. “I lost hope for a while there. I thought that if I stuck to my routine hard enough I could stay present but that didn't help at all.”
Rarity began to tap her metal forehooves together nervously.
“So I just… meditated all day, immersing myself in my memories and going back to when we were alive. Before Celestia… before the changelings, before your flare, before everything changed,” Rarity murmured. “It was, nice but it took something from me.”
“You can't stay like that for long. When I brought everyone back our minds changed, how we operate, what we need, everything is different from when we were alive,” Twilight explained, placing a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “Most undead crave new experiences, something to stave off the malaise of our condition but none moreso than revenants.”
“I know,” Rarity dismissed. “We can't dwell on the past too much unless we want our minds to go and our bodies to become little more than semi-sapient automata.”
“Exactly,” Twilight concluded, removing her hoof and sitting back in her chair. “You can't think like that, none of us can.”
“I know, I know,” Rarity repeated. “I just, never thought we’d be able to go back.”
“I don't quite understand how you feel but my situation is a bit different I suppose,” Twilight remarked. “I haven't really lost anyone, other than the obvious as well as Cadance though I suppose Shining Armor and my father count, but not really.”
Twilight shook her head.
“Sorry, got a bit distracted there,” Twilight apologized.
“Don't worry about it. It happens to the best of us,” Rarity remarked.
“Yeah…” Twilight muttered, the undead mare staring off into space, her mind clearly elsewhere.
“I uh,” Rarity began, pausing to straighten her metaphorical spine. “I know you have concerns about my ability but I promise you that I haven't felt this focused in years.”
“Are you sure?” Twilight pressed. “Because your habit of clocking out can't come back, not when so much is on the line.”
“I will stomp it out,” Rarity proclaimed. “The chance of seeing Sweetie Belle, my parents, and everyone else is too important. You need not worry about me.”
Twilight smiled faintly, her shoulders falling slack as worry fell away.
“Thank goodness,” Twilight muttered. “Because honestly, I’d be happy if they just didn't go to war with us, avoiding that is my primary concern. Everything else is secondary though full integration sure would be nice.”
“Is that a real possibility?” Rarity asked.
“What, the extermination or the integration?” Twilight replied.
“Yes,” Rarity stated.
Twilight chuckled.
“I’ll be honest both are possible and about as likely as one another. From what I’ve heard the rumor mill has run a bit wild out in Equestria though there is a significant amount of pity for us in particular, and the rest of Canterlot more generally,” Twilight answered.
“That is… interesting,” Rarity murmured. “So how long have you and Luna been in contact?”
“Not as long as you may think,” Twilight remarked with a frown. “I’ve been trying to set up a line of communication the entire time we’ve been trapped in here but she hasn't made things easy. Then just the other week, bam my spells are no longer blocked and we’re talking face-to-face through a scrying spell.”
“That is… interesting,” Rarity murmured.
Twilight nodded slowly.
“Yes, it took me a bit by surprise, but-” Twilight stopped abruptly, the lich suddenly sitting bolt upright. “Apoliges Rarity but one of my experiments has run into a minor snag.”
“Oh of course. Best deal with it quickly,” Rarity replied.
“Either way, thank you,” Twilight declared, rising from her chair before pulling Rarity into a slightly awkward hug as if the lich hadn't actually hugged another creature for some time. “Knowing that you are going to be there for them is a great burden off my shoulders.”
“It is my pleasure,” Rarity assured, patting Twilight on the back.
The lich smiled and stepped away.
“Right then, Rainbow Dash has all the details, and oh don't forget they’ll be coming in two days so you better start planning soon,” Twilight warned.
Then, the lich was off, trotting away from the stunned Rarity. Who sat there awkwardly for several seconds.
“Wait,” Rarity muttered. “Two days?!”
Author's Note
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This update was made possible by the wonderful support of readers like you: Ech, Tailsic, Chrisb32, Nightwing, Tonoz, CoreyPeters, Thane, Renegade, Sunset Flash, Kyokimute, Monsterkittie, Louts Petals, Tacocat, Tom, MestreJ, Aang Slyver, Canary in the Coal Mine, Ceepert, Starless, Vi Watch, Facinus, M, Nfreak, Venerable Ro, Blade Tech, Cryil Shadeclaw, John Gonzales, Nightwing, Peter Coulthard, Srgtartman, Thane Kull, Victor, Dale, Dragons' Sheppard, Egery007, Gear change the earth pony, Ivar, James, Kali, Lich Lord Krosis, Menthol Qtip, Midnight Serenade, Mop Hop, Nathan Brown, Octavia Lowbar, Pacsik, Soundtea, Hannibal, Fiamgoku, Grub, Matias Duran, and Steven.
