Great Heart Will Not Be Denied

Chapters

I Trembled Under a Baleful Moon
I Wished For A Body Invisible
I Cried Out, and the Stars Aided Me
IV. I Sought You, For You Were Lovely and My Own
V. I Found You, For You Were Fearless and My Only One

I Trembled Under a Baleful Moon

Edited by: RazedRainbow King of the Unsung, The Ever-faithful LonelyBrony the Shotgun Surgeon, qr7randomguy the Sunderer of Paradise, Invictus_Rising the Bringer of Music, LHmac Maiden of the Imploring Twilights, and (maybe) Nothing is Constant Bearer of the Royal Train of Rarity GIFs

I Trembled Under a Baleful Moon

Rarity cowered in one of the hundreds of alleys that crisscrossed the white-washed tomb city like worms in the body of a decaying giant. It was night, and only the moon provided her with light. It wasn’t enough; past her hooves the world was a sinister mystery.

She shivered, and cursed the Endless City for perhaps the third time in the last hour. It was no place for a lady—not anymore, anyway. But Rainbow needed her; there was no time for complaining. The margin of error, the line between life and death, was so thin that it terrified her. It wasn’t right; what had she done to deserve this? What had Rainbow? It wasn’t fair. But of course, a Lady had to deal with an unfair—

She heard It again, or rather, Them. Thought died; all desire to move or exist vanished. She was a leaf, and the report of the nameless horror’s passing was like the wind. She looked away, the aura of its wrongness hitting her like a tidal wave. She knew it was there, slithering along like some awful adder in the street. That was the wrong word. There were no words. Wait until it passes, wait until it passes, wait until it passes...

It was gone, and she let out a strangled sob. She had let herself forget that the streets of Jannah were abandoned for a reason. Age had nothing to do with it.

Her guides had warned her, of course. When they’d shown her the dry culvert and pried open the rusting grate, they’d told her about Them.

“Sure, are ye? It’s a wee bit worse than yer ken, I’ll wager.”

“Aye, worse and more. Lady, we won’t go in withee, please come back.”

She shook her head. “No. I believe you, gentlecolts. I promise you, I do not make light of what may lay beyond these walls. But I have no choice. This is life or death. Rainbow... she needs me. Would you abandon that wife of yours, Root?”

The crimson earth pony wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Nay, Lady. I’ll tellee no more, yer set in the stones, then. Please, if ye go, go with Eon’s gaze on ye.”

“Life and death, if yer ken, may end up just death,” Root added grimly. “Go then, goodmare. May the Mare of Stars be singin’ over ye.”

She did her best to calm herself, and shakily stood. It was time to get going. She’d rested long enough. The coast wasn’t getting any clearer, and she needed to get inside. This building would have to do.

She now knew why they’d been so vague. There was no way to describe what prowled the streets of Jannah at night. She’d not been honest with them; she had quite suspected that their fears were little more than superstition. It had been D’Jalin she’d worried about as she had slipped underneath the tall, imperial walls. His mercenaries were frightening, but she’d fought off changelings before with only her hooves, her horn, and the help of her friends. If all went well, they’d never see her. Stealth was simply discretion in practice, really—and a lady was always discrete. She’d told herself this perhaps a hundred times since entering the city.

She almost lost her balance, stepping out onto the street, expecting any moment for that Thing to be there, waiting. The vague feeling of being watched that had trailed her since morning rose to a feverish pitch.

Nothing.

Tearfully thankful, she dodged out into the street and into the closest doorway.

She found the door with her magic and closed it quietly but quickly. She felt the ancient magics on it, worn smooth by time in a way only a unicorn could understand. They had built this place to last an eternity, and, despite her terror, it was all rather impressive with its arches and grace.

It was a private residence. A tattered tapestry hung on the wall, and she smiled grimly, knowing that no moth had eaten of it. Nothing living took up residence in Jannah anymore.

Carefully, she reached with her magic into her saddlebag. She felt around the smooth, cold iron plate at its base and sighed. She hated the instrument, but her need was dire. The Captain had given it to her, and a Lady never refused any needful gift, no matter how distasteful...or frightening.

She pulled it free and held it up. With another small burst of magic, she lit the top of her horn.

The Griffon blunderbuss pistol reflected the light off of the iron plate on its handle. Her hooves shook as she slowly advanced deeper into the house, shining her light and pointing the gun into rooms. Dash would know how to do this. She’d be a lot better at this than I am.

The irony that it was she who was rescuing Rainbow had not been lost on her. It was ludicrous. Rainbow was the fighter, the brave one. She did what she had to. But Rainbow... Rainbow should be where she was now, scared out of her mind that any moment one of those mercenaries would jump out and grab her. She’d been warned that their patrols took shelter in the houses at night, waiting for the Nameless to fade away with the sun.

Her two guides had been as helpful as they could be, which wasn’t very. Check every room, every corner. Search in every cabinet and closet or block them up. Block the doors.

She did these things in silence, feeling more and more like an intruder with every step. The walls felt like they were watching her and judging her progress. The house had begun to lose its charm.

She came to what appeared to be a dining room and peered in. It had been majestic once; she knew this immediately. A place of refinement, a noble family’s haunt. Her imagination, on overdrive with all of the stress crawling through the city, saw young unicorns trot into the brightly lit room, laughing amongst themselves and chattering about lessons taught to them by tutors of the city’s vast reservoir of magic. She could almost see a refined servant standing with stiff pride off to the side, ready to perform the duties he had invested his life into. She imagined that, long ago, their fath—

There was a pony in the room.

She whirled, planting herself against the doorway and out of his sight. Her light went out, and it was all she could do not to scream and drop the blunderbuss.

Stupid! Oh Rarity, how could you be such a fool? But he had been so still. He hadn’t moved at all. She’d almost not recognized him as a pony.

Rarity was on the verge of hyperventilating. Calm… calm… oh goddess, what if I just can’t hear him?

She had to do something. She had to move or fight or run, but her legs were in full rebellion. She pried herself off the wall and shakily stepped into the doorway again, shining her light to blind the threat. She could deal with him—she had to. He wouldn’t be alone. Rarity threw her magic light into the center of the room.

Her flare burned low on the stone floor. The stallion—she could see him well now—stood stock still, staring at an old tapestry. His weapons were piled on the table, as was his black iron helmet. The light hung in the air behind him, casting his face into deepest shadow, but she was sure that his gaze didn't waver. His head never moved an inch in her direction.

“They are all gone,” he said, not moving his eyes from the figures of the dancing ponies.

Rarity shivered, and the gun shook in her magical grip. She wanted to think it was all the strain on her abilities, but she knew it was fear.

“They all listened to the Noise. Have you ever listened to the Noise? It is so much prettier in the end than Silence and Music. I think I will go out soon, into the streets and listen to the Noise. The others did. They should have waited for me. Noise should be enjoyed together.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, though the warnings that she’d been given came rushing back to her. This pegasus stallion was only barely that. He had probably been a colt but two years ago, and unlike the others she had seen glaring up and down the empty streets, he bore no braided beard or ruined face.

She recognized what this was. They had warned her, after all. The houses were haunted, they’d said. At the time, she had filed that tidbit under “Unlikely” and pretended to accept their wisdom. But now she knew better. The haunting was real, and so apparently was the whispering in the halls. The old matrons had warned of it, but it had been a young stallion Root’s age who had provided her with detail: those who stayed in the walls for too long, in the houses of the dead, began to lose themselves. They would hear whispering everywhere, and soon it became like background noise and it stopped bothering them at all. And then, at last, they began to slow and falter, standing in place as if in contemplation. At last, they became the Dead, and would file out into the streets called by some siren’s song of Them and would be devoured in the dark. They did this willingly; there was no saving them. Trying to touch them would make them cry and complain about the heat, and then they would attack and try to rip their would-be savior apart.

He continued staring, without anything else to say. It occurred to her that it could be all a ruse to make her lower her guard, but somehow the unnatural stillness seemed to confirm that perhaps he was truly walking dead.

She felt something else besides horror: pity. He was so young. He was handsome, and perhaps under the influence of charity, she could imagine that once he had had a kind face. His eyes were glazed over now, going gray.

“Why were you here? With these stallions?” she asked softly.

“Valon. I am from Valon, on the coast. Adventure,” he said, his voice betraying no emotion. There was no inflection, no signs at all that he even knew what he was saying. “There was no Noise in Valon. I like the Noise.”

“What was your name, gentlecolt?” Why was she asking him these things? It was absurd. However young he was, he had been in the company of murderers and thieves. Youth did not make for purity of heart or purpose.

“North Star. Not many pegasi in Valon, parents had to pick a name from stories. Where is the Noise? Do you make the Noise? I wish I had the Noise.”

She wished that he had said it in a whining voice. She wished he had been confused or angry, anything at all. But his voice was without difference. It simply was.

It was like poking at a dead body. The immense indecency of it appalled her. She would leave him alone. She couldn’t bear to watch him much longer.

“Goodbye, North Star. You chose poorly. I-I’m sorry.” She did her best to control the shaking her voice.

“Goodbye. Would you tell me where I can find the Noise? You have a song, but I would like the Noise. I know that you are a song but do you have Noise? Where is…”

She was already gone, retreating swiftly down the hall. I can’t stay in any of these rooms. None of the beds and none of the couches. Shan’t touch anything. There but for grace go I… oh Celestia! Oh Luna!

The one thing that they’d told her that she’d taken for good news: none of the Things flew. They were creatures of the Earth, bound to the ground. Root and Branch, the two hardy earth ponies, had advised her to seek high shelter, preferably on top of the roofs.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Verily, Lady. If ye ken, Them’s things can’t be flyin’ or climbin’. Leaving yon ground wounds ‘em.”

She came to a door that was closed and gently wrapped the handle in her magic. Taking a deep breath, she flung it open and pointed her weapon into the gap.

There was nothing. A pantry, or a closet. She let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been bottling up. For a brief second, she had been worried about finding another Gray Eyed, like North Star.

They’d handed her the ragged tarp and she’d stared at it and them like they were mad.

“Trust me. This way they won’t be seein’ you from the air.”

She found the stairs up to the roof and pushed the doors aside.

There’d been a roof garden here once, she could tell immediately. She recognized the ruined structure was a gazebo, or had been. It was foolish, in all of this danger, but it filled her with sadness. She imagined it how it must have been, before all the tragedy that had befallen the great city. Ponies must have come here to watch the sunset. A husband and wife, with their foals playing or asking questions about the stars... and now it was all gone.

She imagined herself and Rainbow. A glass of wine, you, me, and the stars. Twilight always said it was a wonderful pastime. She could almost see it.

She’d lay in Rainbow’s warm forelegs, and feel the soft touch of her favorite pegasus’ wing draped over her like a blanket. Rainbow Dash would tell her stories from her travels with Twilight, casting light on the mysteries of the far West. Rarity would listen intently, but her real attention would be on Rainbow. She’d finally come home after two months, after all, and Rarity would want to breathe in as much of her familiar scent and feel as much of her familiar, welcome warmth as she could...

The cold night slowly drove out her imaginings.

She sniffed, and was angry to find tears forming. This is not a good time for this, Rarity. A Lady knows when to give into her emotions and when to keep her upper lip stiff. Come now.

But it was hard not to think such thoughts, now that she could see the city laid out around her. The earth pony tribe across the river had been reticent about it, and really all she knew for sure was that it was haunted and the site of some great evil. What evil it was seemed to either escape all those she’d asked, or else they’d feared telling her. Her attempts to pry the information out of her hosts had been met with nervous shuffling and ears being laid against skulls in dismay. The earth ponies in the village had genuinely been terrified of this place.

She didn’t blame them.

The city went on far as the eye could see, lit up here and there by magical lamps that had been burning before Canterlot had ever been built. She’d had hours to get used to it, but it was still unnerving. Magic covered this city like a blanket, keeping it all still and standing. Everything stayed as it had for thousands of years. Unless some scavenger knocked it over, it never changed. Even then, the scattered pieces and dust of any carelessly destroyed vase stayed where they were. Nothing decayed here. Of course, nothing lived here either. Not for long.

Jannah was white, crafted from marble and magic. The tribe who had so kindly given her succor had been vague on how or when, but they’d known that the city itself had been built rather quickly with magic beyond what was available to even the Archmage. They’d tried to match Empyrea here, or so the natives had told her. They’d reached far and been mighty, with eyes that shone like the sun and hooves that walked sheathed in gold.

“Empyrea?”

They’d described the distant Isles to her, beyond the mists, farther from Jannah than Jannah was from Ponyville. A library that seemed to go on forever, filled with the deepest secrets ponies knew. Spires that touched heaven and reached deep down into the black rock of the Earth. Jannah had been a kind of sister city, the younger of two beautiful siblings.

They had chosen to build their city around the site of The Song, or as it became known, the Fountain. When the ponies of the forest talked about it, their voices had dropped to an awed, reverent murmur. The Fountain of Kyrie, at the heart of the great dead city, on the top of the Acropolis of Time.

Fallen into ruins now, though. She wondered what it was that they’d wished for. What could they have done to create such a terrible place?

She dug the folded tarp out of her saddlebag, and examined it with scorn. It was full of holes, and already she knew that she would come to despise it. But she had no choice; Root and Branch had been rather insistent about it. That, and waking up early to get out of plain sight, but she supposed that she could do that. It’d be a miracle if she got any sleep at all in this place.

Rarity shivered, and wondered if this would really be enough. The brothers had seemed confident that it would serve her well, and it occurred to her to test it for enchantment. Stranger things than earth ponies enchanting could be found in the wide and dangerous West.

Sure enough, it had an odd aura about it. She huffed, impressed despite herself. They really did things differently out here.

Equestria. She missed it terribly.

She unfolded the tarp and lay herself down, casting another tendril of her magic out to take the saddlebags off of her back. She laid it beside her, and got comfortable on the smooth stone. She let the tarp down.

It was a remarkable change. As soon as it touched the ancient marble, she could feel a strange pulsing, and the sheet seemed to stretch and contract and tremble. Finally, it was still and somehow she knew that it had changed somehow.

Camouflage. They really do care! Perhaps they were gentlecolts after all.

That was a bit unfair. This was the closest they had to a holy site, after all. Holy ban on it and all that.

She lifted the edge of the covering, and waited for a change in the magic. She felt nothing, and smiled. Excellent, I can perhaps keep an eye on my surroundings without blowing my cover, as it were. She smiled weakly at that.

It was a good thing, too. She felt watched, as if someone was sitting in the back of her mind. A hitchhiker, in a way, though the idea was foolish. She worried perhaps that her instincts were trying to warn her that she wasn’t as hidden as she would like, but the feeling stayed no matter where she went. Even in cellars and under bridges she had felt eyes on her.

Looking out, she tried to plan her route. She’d have to leave this district, heading over the dried up moat, and either through the gate or over the walls into the next one over. She wasn’t sure how she’d handle it yet—No doubt the gate would be guarded as soon as the sun was up, with one or two spear-armed ponies watching the eerily delicate bridge for trespassers or scavengers. Climbing would probably be her only choice... and it worried her. Ponies were not built for climbing.

But her friends had shown her how, and they’d given her their four hooks. Ghastly things... but I suppose a Lady does what is necessary.

Soon, she was too weary to plot and plan. Still feeling watched, but convinced it was only her nerves from seeing North Star earlier, she let sleep overtake her. She closed her eyes and saw Jannah in her dreams, and knew that it was exactly how it had once been, though she had never seen it in glory. Its towers were beautiful and pristine, its streets full of happy and wise ponies, its nights full of dancing and happiness, its days full of industry and peace. And at the center of it all, she saw herself and Rainbow walking down a long path set in stone high on the windy acropolis towards the round columned Tholos, towards a pool that held stars. She looked over and smiled at Rainbow, and Rainbow smiled back.

“Eon,” Rainbow said, and nuzzled her. But Rainbow was fading, her mane shrinking and her face morphing. Yet Rarity felt no real alarm as she felt herself change. She was, after all not a mere unicorn. All was right and as it should be. This was her love, her Blue Skies. They often walked to the sacred fountain together, to gaze into the starry waters and talk quietly. It was her right, as a Daughter, and it was his privilege, as her husband, to accompany her.

The wind blew her long white mane into her face and she chuckled. “If I could only see it, it is a beautiful day.” She wiped the errant strands away as Skies answered her.

“Yes. I am glad for the rain and the coolness, but I prefer it this way. It’s in my name, after all.”

“You seem eager for the sky. We could always fly instead, as you know.” She said playfully, bumping into him.

Blue Skies rolled his eyes and kept walking. “Putting aside the mild embarrassment of being completely outflown by my wife, I am not always as hungry for the air as you think. Besides, I enjoy the silence and the… water.”

She accepted this happily. It was so strange, to see how ponies who weren’t alicorns reacted to the majesty of the Fountain of Kyrie. She herself came to it as if coming home—for that was what she was doing, having been born out of it in Song. But Blue Skies was a pegasus, a distant scion of her proud and aggressive sister Aurora.

Eon had had no children. In the nights, when the lamps lit up the city below in their gentle glow, she wondered what race she could have given lift to in this valley.

As they came at last to the Tholos, both of them stopped at the top step. She sighed, feeling a deep sense of peace. It had been too long since she came home. Anything longer than a day was too long. She did not know how her brothers and sisters survived such distance and lack.

Her husband trembled, almost falling to his feet. He bowed, as if laden with some burden. Gently, Eon reached down and kissed his cheek. It was not unpleasant, she knew, for a mortal to come here… but it was intense. It had always been so. The first time she had brought him here, he had collapsed outright.

At last, he seemed to calm himself and straightened up. “Sorry,” he said with a small grin.

She laughed at him, finding him silly. “Of course. ‘Tis only a sign of your goodness after all, to bow in the presence of the Song of all Songs!”

“It is so hard… to believe that this is truly the womb of Creation.”

He walked into the Tholos proper, his steps measured. He came to the fountain and paused. Eon knew that in his mind he was beginning to hear Song, and his eyes wished to drown themselves in the pool. It was no sin to do so. Usually she would have let him… but today she wanted to talk to him.

She was behind him, kissing his neck, his shoulder. Startled, he turned to look at her. She giggled.

“I am in the home of my Mother, it is quite proper. I know what that look means, you silly. Come, sit with my on the benches.”

“Womb. It’s not quite the right word, you know,” she began as they sat down together, facing the pool. From this distance, the immense star field hadn’t quite the same sway on his mortal eyes, but still brought a supernal sense of peace.

“What would the right word be, love?”

“Cradle? No. I suppose there are no words for the Fountain of Kyrie. It was not a fountain once, you know… but you do not, perhaps. I will tell you about it some day, long from now. Would you like that? To hear all the story at last?”

“I would.”

“Then I shall remember.” And she would. A tiny drop of trouble splashed in the sea of peace. It was dispersed and weakened, but still it remained that he would learn when finally he had to leave her.

“You seemed to have something on your mind today, my love. Forgive me if I speak out of turn, but… May I ask what it is?”

She smiled. Blue Skies always forgot who he was now, and she found it adorable. “No need to stand on ceremony, knight. It is perhaps not… bothering me. ‘Bother’ is such an ugly word for such a beautiful line of thought. More so it has been making its case to me.”

“It?” He seemed intrigued. She grinned at his open curiosity. Only a Goddess could perhaps truly appreciate how wonderful it was to see her ponies lose their shells of pride and stoicism, or better yet their adoration. It was why she’d been so excited to bring Blue Skies here, when first she’d opened herself up to the possibility of love. Here, in the presence of something that drew his innate sense of awe more to itself than she ever could, they could finally be equals. Here he was a child as much as she was.

“I was thinking about my sister, Aurora, who gave birth to your tribe.”

“Aurora? Do you miss her?”

He sounded so sad! She wanted to kiss his little frown away, and chuckle. Oh, silly little ponies, who did not understand death! They still thought Aurora, Gaia, and Dusk to be waiting in the Silent Halls. They couldn’t see the spark in themselves, and it was very silly of them.

“No, no. She… how shall I explain? I suppose she is in you.”

“Me?” He seemed so puzzled. His mask of knightly pride and surety was amusing and fun, but his confusion and curiosity was what she loved. It was closer to the truth.

“Of course, my little pony,” she said, taking on a regal tone. Here, it was out of place, and the silliness of it caused them both to laugh. “But yes. When my sister gave up herself to make your forefathers, she never went away. You all bear a bit of her soul inside of you. It’s what makes you brave, Skies. You are Aurora in a way, and not in another. It is both true and false to say that she is in you still. That is the way of Creation.”

“I… that is a strange thought.”

“It is!” she said, delighted. “Yes, yes. It is, but it is more the saying of it that is strange, I think. I know all of your tribe’s many tales of warriors and heroes who call on the Spirit of Aurora to save them or their loved ones. The idea that she lives in you still as a kind of shadow is a myth or fable. Think… that the myth becomes fact.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever understand you or keep up.” He grinned suddenly. “In any way.”

“Well, you are gaining on me in height,” she said, offering him his consolation. It was true; one did not dally with the Guardians of Creation without some lovely side effects. She had to say that long legs looked particularly pleasing on him. She nuzzled him, breaking her gaze on the fountain to do so. She knew she must seem silly to him, but this place always changed her.

“I suppose that’s some consolation. So what made you think about Aurora?”

She looked out on the wide and beautiful city of Jannah.

“I think I am like my sister, Celestia. I wanted children of my own to live in the valley that I call home… but I still wish to know them myself. Alicorns have always had choices to make. So I invited ponies to live here in my valley, and share time and love with me and each other. Has it not been good? But… I still feel a strange emptiness inside. I would have a child.”

It was a credit to him that in such a place of peace that Blue Skies could manage a look of alarm. He sputtered, his line of sight on the fountain broken. “M-my… I mean…” He tensed, putting on that mask of duty he loved so much on, and she frowned down at him. “It would be sad, for your people… if you were to go away from us and do what... A-Aurora did.”

“No, no. Stop trying to be my Marshal for a moment, my good stallion, and be my lover. You don’t have to earn that—say what you mean.”

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he answered quietly, looking down. “But I don’t wish for you to be sad. I don’t understand what you mean by all this.”

“And that is good. No, I will not be mother to a tribe. I have you, after all. No, I have another plan in mind. A letter came, from Equestria, in the East. Celestia has foaled, and since she knows that I cannot bear to leave, she has given me drawings of him and a long letter about it. I read it while you were on duty today. I… I would like to follow the example of my younger sister.”

It was amazing how quickly mortals could turn when the need was there to do so. Instantly, his look of pain was replaced by one of pure joy. “I have wondered about that more than you know.”

Eon, for once allowing herself to wear the silly mask of the Alicorn queen, kissed his forehead.

“I know and see more than you think, brave little knight.”

Rarity awoke aching. The sun was rising, and she shut her eyes as soon as she opened them. She groaned.

Her mind was foggy, confused from its strange dream. She remembered Rainbow Dash and her child-like grin… or had that been a stallion? She knew his hair had been that same rainbow color, and she knew that was rare. What had she been dreaming about?

She shook her head. It really didn’t matter.

Another day. That’ll make twelve since Twilight came back. Twenty-five since Rainbow was taken.

Almost a whole month. It ate at her heart that her rescue had been so long in coming. She had tried her best, but navigation and travel had never been fortés of hers. The Captain had helped as much he could, but his own strangeness had pulled them along detours that she now found to be of dubious merit.

But it was the morning of a new day. Rainbow was right in front of her, somewhere in the massive outcropping of stone called the Acropolis. Inside, she’d been told, there were miles of caverns and halls and rooms. Rainbow would be in one of them.

She rose and stretched, hearing her back pop. Thinking about those rooms brought images of them, both ruined and old and before, when they were young. She’d always been blessed with a vivid imagination, she supposed.

Packing the tarp away and checking to make sure her gun was alright took only a moment, and then she was heading down the stairs.

North Star was gone. Just to make sure, she checked the dining room again, and found it empty. She shivered, remembering his solid gray eyes. His gear and supplies lay on the table in a tiny, neat pile.

Feeling sordid, she trotted over and found a loaf of bread in his supplies. Excellent. I am sorry, North Star. And she was. It felt wrong… but her own supplies would not last forever, and she’d have to get all the way back to the village in the trees on what she had, feeding herself and Rainbow. She would need more than she had already.

Taking a bite of her stolen food and gathering some more with a grimace of distaste, she left his weapons and jet black armor behind. She could have taken it as a disguise, she supposed, but even had such an endeavor been practical… it was simply too much. There were limits to what simple survival could push her.

She went back to the foyer and stepped out into the day, blinking in the sun.

Rainbow was closer than before, and that was what she had to focus on. She couldn’t think about North Star, or her dream. She had to think about Rainbow.

She took to the alleys again with as much silence as she could muster, working her way towards the next wall. All the while, she felt eyes on her as she had the day before.

I Wished For A Body Invisible

II. I Wished For a Body Invisible
Edited by the Ever Faithful randomguy, LonelyBrony the Triumphant, and Lhmac the Magnificent Mistress of Majestic Malleable... I ran out of words starting with M. :c

Rarity wasn’t alone.

Others wandered the empty streets of Jannah besides herself and the guards that the mad zebra D’Jalin had brought with him. Scavengers darted out from houses and into alleyways like little birds picking at a huge carcass of some majestic king of the plains. She’d spot them here and there, skittish and half-starved, coming out of houses with tiny heirlooms in bags. They’d see her and panic, and before she could say a word they’d disappear beneath the streets or into some hole. She knew they sold the little treasures in the towns to the east somewhere, and it bothered her to think of the tombs being defiled.

They had given her an idea, though. An awful, hateful idea. But a Lady does what she must.

She stared down at the little grate and grimaced. The drains criss-crossed the city like veins, and she knew they’d lead her past the walls.

Yes, she would do what she had to, but she’d rather it be absolutely necessary before she delved into the dark underground. She could almost feel the filth and the squalor from here, and she already hated it.

But she’d stayed out in the open long enough. Rarity trotted back out of the street and into the alley. It was different from Canterlot. Here, behind the individual houses was a kind of long lane. Some of them had once been pretty. This one had little benches, and she laid out on one of them. In the middle, a small cracked fountain stood still. No water came from it, and she wondered idly how long ago it had finally stopped.

Of course, she had probably already exhausted her options. The guards at the gate had been there early, even earlier than she had. There were no buildings close enough to the wall to try and rig some sort of bridge or line between them, though she’d tried earlier. The moat that had once been full of water made sure of it.

It was probably the storm drain or nothing.

Rarity looked up at the sky, frowning at the brooding clouds. If it rains... Well then things would just continue as they had been, wouldn’t they? Her whole quest had been marked by stupid misfortune up to this point. It had begun poorly and continued poorly.

Bitterly, she growled at nothing and closed her eyes. It had been a long day, and she had made almost no progress at all getting into the inner city. I’m terrible at this. Rainbow, why couldn’t it be you?

She’d asked something similar before.

It had been raining then, too. Her mane had been soaked and ruined, and she hadn’t cared a bit. What she had cared about was getting an answer from Twilight.

“Where?”

It had been her only word. She’d given no warning of her coming, no explanation. Twilight hadn’t needed them. The wounded unicorn had recoiled in shock, flailing, but even then Rarity had seen knowledge in her eyes. Twilight had known she would come.

“Where is she?” Rarity asked again. She didn’t raise her voice; she didn’t have to. All the force was in her baleful stare, and Twilight wilted before it.

She looked awful. Burn marks and bandages covered half of her face and one eye was hidden behind an eye patch.

Rarity would not ask again. A Lady did not repeat herself to no purpose. With fury, and with suddenness that shocked even her, she had pulled the fallen Twilight up and brought her forward in a heap.

Lightning crashed outside, and later Rarity would think it was fitting. Her eyes reflected in Twilight’s were riotous with wrath and sorrow.

“I... Rarity, please let me just explain.”

Rarity growled wordlessly. Her refinement was gone, sheared off entirely like paint from a wall by the rain and by the news delivered by Celestia herself. She would repent and regret it all immensely later, but in that moment she could not care less for Twilight’s terror. It was irrelevant.

Twilight had lost Rainbow. Her Rainbow. Her only Rainbow. She’d left to go poke her librarian nose into every Lunadamned nook and cranny of some half-forgotten continent and took Rainbow with her and she had sworn to bring her back!

And she hadn’t.

“Quickly.” She spat the word out like it was a bullet from some Griffon gun. Twilight flinched.

“We were... north. North of Isdrimar Ruins. Rainbow didn’t want to camp inside the rubble. She said it was creepy, so we were going to set up a little outside of it. We were talking, and I just... they were quick! They were silent. Neither of us saw them until they were everywhere, coming out from b-behind every tree! Out of the ground! I-I tried! I used all my magic, but it was s-so quick and Rainbow kicked one in the face and then they hit me and I collapsed...”

She broke down, sobbing. It melted some of the ice around Rarity’s heart, but not all of it. She let the librarian cry and said nothing. She offered no comfort, but made no demands on her. Twilight managed to calm herself.

“Who?”

“He’s... I mean, his name means nothing to you. He’s a—”

Rarity cut her off with such anger that Twilight almost started sobbing again.

“Celestia as my witness his name, now. Stop talking in circles, Twilight. I need to find her.” Her voice strained. She was no longer demanding; she was pleading.

Twilight nodded. “D’Jalin. He’s an exile out of the Zebrahara, a war criminal... a monster. The other shamans stripped him of his title and cursed him, and he’s been leading a private army since. I mean, we had heard rumors that he was in the area, but nopony had seen him and we just figured he wasn’t around and... I followed them as best I could. They left tracks, and I came across a village and they told me where he’d taken her.”

Rarity waited for her to continue.

She did her best, sniffling. “He’s in J-Jannah.”

The name meant nothing to her.

“It’s... old. There’s some sort of mystery at the center of it. Celestia told us before we left that she wanted us to go there last, and only if we were sure it was safe. It worried her. They took her inside with them... I couldn’t go in. I was hurt... I-I was going to, but I couldn’t find a way in...”

She was groveling. At first, it made Rarity sick. But then, some of her compassion returned. She sighed, long and low.

“Twilight. Twilight, stop it. I’m not going to hurt you. Can you draw me a map?”

“But... the Princess...?”

“She’s afraid of something. I heard it in her voice. She’ll wait too long, and then what will happen? I can’t wait that long! I can’t wait at all, Twilight! I have to find her now.”

The worst part about being stuck here, at the second layer of walls, was that she’d come rather far before now with ease. It was all rather cruel, to tease her with simple tasks and then throw this wall in her way. She was a small pony and this was a vast city, with high walls and sturdy gates. She’d never felt so powerless in her life.

The day was slipping by, and the sky above had darkened with brooding, heavy clouds. The prospect of oncoming rain moved her out of her exhausted melancholy. She’d need to find shelter soon.

“Look. It’s about to rain and I don’t wanna be out in it. That’s all.”

Rarity froze as a voice echoed down one of the alleys into the little courtyard.

“If you say one more word...”

In her haste to rise, she tripped and sprawled flat on her face. Her limbs burned with panic. A house, a house, she had to find somewhere in one of them to hide—

They were close. It was a miracle that she’d heard them. Above, thunder crashed, and the bottom of the heavens fell out.

She scrambled into one of the houses, peeking out of the doorway as two earth pony mercenaries wandered into the courtyard, cursing at the rain. One of them, the leader, gestured around herself at the little neighborhood of buildings and her subordinate nodded.

The mare who seemed to be in charge headed for her hiding place at a brisk trot, and Rarity’s hold on thought evaporated in panic. She needed to vanish. She couldn’t be caught here, not now. Not while Rainbow was finally in reach! The sour-faced mare was close, and she knew there was nowhere for her to hide...

The storm drain.

She galloped for the front door. Behind her, she could hear the mare call for her companion’s help and she knew she’d have only seconds, if even that.

She was out into the street, and in the dark she felt exposed and naked once again. For all intents and purposes it was night again, and the Nameless would be out. Rain poured down on her, making the cobblestones slick. She stumbled.

She tore the grate up with her magic and slid into the hole it left behind, stifling a cry of pain as she felt the harsh stone tear at her coat and skin, and then she was in shallow water and in pitch black darkness. Her legs hurt, but she didn’t have time to make sure that everything was in its place. She replaced the grate over the tunnel and cowered.

The mare was at the opening, looking up and down. Rain poured in through the iron grate like a waterfall, obscuring her face, but Rarity could hear her fury.

“Check the houses across the street. No, damn you, I ain’t... Stop being a baby. You can handle one unicorn mare!”

He evidently didn’t think so.

“If she has a gun, yell. You think a little cunt like that would even think of getting her hooves on a gun? It’s just rain. Don’t stay in the street. Go!”

Rarity didn’t dare breathe as the frustrated mercenary took one last hard look around her and headed back.

When she was gone, Rarity let out a strangled sob of relief.

The tunnels were flooded, but not so much so that she was forced to quit them.

The water came halfway up her legs, and the cold air made her shiver. It was perhaps not as dirty as she had imagined, but it was just as cramped and miserable. Her only light source came from her magic, holding aloft her tiny flare a few feet ahead of her.

The worst part was that she couldn’t turn. The feeling of being watched had not left her, and she could almost feel eyes behind her in the tunnel, watching her progress.

It was perhaps not a good moment to remember how much she hated small spaces anyway.

But it was all worth it. Rainbow was only a day away. She’d be able to throw off any pursuit or search in the wide cityscape inside the inner walls once she surfaced again, and then it would only be a matter of sneaking into the great acropolis.

But that was the real problem, wasn’t it? Skulking about the city she could do. But infiltrating a fortress? Just getting into the inner city was almost too much for her to handle. How would she manage that?

Rarity could see the opening up ahead, and she could hear her heartbeat quicken. Yes, this was the tricky moment.

She doused the light and plunged the tunnel into absolute darkness.

It was terrible. She imagined that the Nameless would come for her in the tunnels, climb down and devour her or swallow her up in the Noise, and it almost drove her to tears. The quiet echoes of her hooves sloshing in the collected water no longer seemed quiet at all.

She came at last to the opening, where the drain emptied into the moat, and paused to look for another grate. For a moment, worry flowered in her heart. Rarity worried that perhaps she had miscalculated with her plan to slip under the walls.

But at last she spotted another opening, and breathed a small sigh of relief.

With care, Rarity worked the grate off and turned it. She tried to pull it back in with her, but it wouldn’t come. Oh. Of course, yes. Sighing, she pushed it out and held it in midair. I’ll have to be careful setting it down. It’ll be loud. She remembered the guards that would probably still investigate any noise in the dark, even with the Nameless roaming the city. Rarity let the grate rest on the floor of the moat gently.

They were as scared as she was. How could they not be? In Jannah, they were all like foals in the dark. They’d investigate, timidly, but they’d find her all the same. There was nowhere for her to run in this little bowl.

Now for the next challenge: being silent. Ponies were not made for climbing and that is the end of the matter. But for all her protestations, she would have to try.

The best she could do was a kind of frantic sliding down the smooth surface. Rarity tried her best to be quiet, biting her lip as she landed at last in the center of the hollow stone moat.

It was no longer dry. The rain had collected in the center here in little pools and she splashed, sending water everywhere. Her heart almost beat its way out of her chest in panic, and she was torn between freezing in fear and floundering her way up to the other opening.

But she heard no sounds from above her. The bridge, to her right, was silent.

Rarity let out a shaky breath and rose on all four hooves. With dismay, she found her gun had been thrown from her pack. She scrambled over to it and picked it up with her magic. Rummaging in the saddlebag, she found her tarp and tried to dry it off. The one time I don’t bring far too many choices of clothing with me... If she hadn’t been mortally terrified of making even the smallest peep, she would have laughed bitterly.

The rain beat down, and she wiped her filthy mane from her eyes. The gun would probably be fine; she would just have to keep it out of the rain and tend to it later. The captain on the airship who’d given it to her on the way Westward had told her how to do it. She remembered most of it.

The pistol was wrapped up in the tarp hurriedly and stuffed back into the saddlebag. Yes, it was messy, but she didn’t have time. She just prayed she lost nothing else on the climb up.

How to get up to it? She hadn’t had time or the presence of mind to really plan this before. Tiny tunnels were not good places to plan things like jumping high enough to reach a small sewage opening.

Rarity supposed her only recourse was to just... run up the wall. It sounded stupid.

She tried it anyway, building up speed. Her hooves clacked on the stone, but she couldn’t go slower. She was almost there... and then her momentum gave out on her. She began falling. But she’d already gotten high enough to lodge herself awkwardly in the little indention in front of the grate.

Rarity groaned softly as her body complained about the strain of the unnatural position. She kicked with her hindlegs against the smooth, wet stone wall, searching in vain for some kind of purchase.

She tried rising on her forelegs, but they were useless.

It was pathetic. She felt helpless, trapped. She’d either fall and hurt herself, or stay here and hurt herself.

But she had to do this. She had to get across. Rainbow needed her.

She kicked her legs again, almost comically trying to run up the wall. But it worked, and she found herself crammed up against the next grate. She panted and shivered in the rain. It was the work of a moment to lift the iron away and crawl inside.

She shivered in the damp tunnel.

Author's Note

I'm sorry for the wait and for the short chapter.

This was one of those things that worked waaaay better in my little planning Doc and just... did not work at all on the page. I'm sorry about that, you guys. I do try to do right by y'all... Next chapter is gonna be better, trust me. :3

Also, fun fact, this chapter title is a reference really indirectly to Walt Whitman. Well, the original untweaked title was.

I Cried Out, and the Stars Aided Me

I Cried Out, and the Stars Aided Me
Edited by the Learned Loremaster of Firearms--he Necromancer formerly known as Lonelybrony, and Randomguy He Who Refuses to Erect a Pretty Moon Princess Temple

She heard them over the rain as she shivered in the tunnel.

“Lone unicorn? Armed?”

“Possibly. But I don’t think it’ll matter. I mean, she’s just one soft unicorn. You think she could even load a gun or use a spear? Her magic won’t be enough.”

“How does he even know she’s in the city?”

“D’Jalin knows stuff, you know that. He just... knows.”

It didn’t surprise her that D’Jalin knew so much about her, but it was still worrisome.

Twilight had told her about D’Jalin a long time ago, before she and Rainbow had left on their fateful trip. He was the Mad God King, an exiled Zebra shaman who’d made a name for himself by tearing a nation apart and making the sands run with blood. Twilight’s husband, Macintosh, had come back from there with a hollow expression. She feared for Rainbow Dash in that madzebra’s clutches.

But Twilight had told her that he did that. He knew things. Things that were impossible for him to know, and yet he would rattle them off like a filly who’d learned her lesson. Secret bits of lore that no zebra knew, he knew. Where ponies and zebras would be and why, he knew. Forces that received orders directly from him in the sand dunes had been invincible, fading into the wild and appearing everywhere, striking with terrifying speed and force. He cowed conquered towns with a dance and ritual of blood and self-laceration, crying with alien joy to the heavens as he called down curses on his enemies.

But he had lost, and in the last battle, D’Jalin had vanished. And now he’s here, to trouble the dead and the living once more, Rarity thought sourly.

Rarity was miserable. She was cold, wet, and in pain. She had untreated cuts all over, and they needed to be washed. Her pack’s strap was wearing against her coat and digging into her skin. She needed rest, and there was nothing for it.

But first, she needed to find an area not staked out by D’Jalin’s army.

It had proved harder than she’d hoped to find an abandoned district. The Zebra’s mercenaries had spread themselves far and with great effectiveness, leaving no neighborhood so far away from a patrol that it was safe.

Rarity bit her lip, and waited. She had rested her hooves long enough.

She was sure they’d not hear her over the rain, but this passageway led right under the window, and she refused to take the chance.

“Now, you heard about the pegasus?”

She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. Her plans to move vanished.

“Yeah,” the rougher of the two voices responded, “a little. She’s important?”

“In with Royalty, Knight of Celestia or somethin’. Big shot. Won’t let anypony touch her, and not ‘cause he’s keepin’ her for ‘imself either.”

“Damn shame. Saw her once. Beautiful.”

Rarity wanted her gun. She wanted it so very, very badly. It had one shot but she could manage. Just float it up to the window...

“I’d like a piece of her too! Heh, but we make do. Steel Breaker is back from raiding up north, around Maldiz. Hearsay is that he’s got a dozen mares in his train.”

“Gold, you’re pullin’ my leg. Nah?”

She couldn’t take it anymore. She moved on, grinding her teeth.

Rarity desperately needed shelter.

The alleyways were safe from the Nameless because of their small size, but she knew nothing of the kind about the little tunnels under the streets. In fact, Branch had been rather insistent that she do her best to avoid them at all cost.

She could feel eyes on her again, and with every passing moment the sensation of being watched grew more intense. Besides that, the rain was picking up, and she had no doubt that the water would be too high for her soon.

It didn’t help that the light in the tunnels came only from the small magical light she provided. Aside from her arcane torch, darkness clung to the walls and danced on the shifting face of the water.

She’d not heard any patrols in some time, but it was also late. It is possible, Rarity, that they could have just... gone to sleep.

Regardless, she needed to leave. Before... something found her. She knew something would. The Nameless, perhaps, or some other thing even worse that stayed below in the city’s bowels. Root and Branch’s entire village had feared this place, and Rarity was learning to fear it too. Their superstition seemed only prudent.

But caution had not yet abandoned her. She took a deep breath, and carefully removed the metal covering the entrance hole, forcing it up into the air. She laid it aside, and only released her breath when it was quietly out of the way. Then, with some effort, she maneuvered her pack through the opening with magic, and then finally herself.

As soon as she had the pack on her back, she hurriedly replaced the metal covering. Her breathing was short, and her hooves trembled. It wasn’t the patrols she feared.

But no Nameless came for her. With her work done, she vanished into the side streets.

Now, to pick a house. Going out into the street again would probably not be too risky, but she simply wouldn’t do it. Not with the possibility of an encounter with the long Nameless hanging over her head. So she had three choices.

“Does it really even matter, Rarity? We’re out in the open at last,” she whispered, and remembered how wet she was. Rarity shivered in the cold. Could she make a fire? She supposed that there must be something flammable in the houses, but she’d have to risk falling asleep inside.

But there was nothing for it. She couldn’t sleep like this, or else she’d be useless and sick in the morning. She had to stay healthy for Rainbow. She picked one of the available doors at random and slipped into a grand old house by the side entrance.

She came out in the kitchen, and was pleased to find that it was undisturbed. Good. That bodes well! I’m sure if those ruffians had moved in for the night this place would be a mess.

It still surprised her, how normal this place could seem. The little island and the counter could be from Canterlot. A lonely pitcher sat on the counter, abandoned in the rush to escape the cataclysm. It could have all been an old Canterlot mansion, really. The oven was obviously old, but some ponies preferred more traditional or magical preparation even in the modern day.

She paused by the oven.

This would actually be a splendid place for a fire. Carefully, she eased the pack off her back and winced. Under her coat, it had rubbed her raw. But she had no choice. She needed it. Rarity found the gun and pulled it out, eyeing it.

“What a piece you are,” she whispered into the stormy night.

It filled her with a kind of terror that she liked. The Griffon weapon was old, beautiful, crafted by expert smiths a generation ago at most. It was a study in overwhelming force, and on the outside it had a facade of grace.

Her cold, wet state drew her back into the present.

Sighing, Rarity found a stool in the kitchen and took it apart with her magic, flinging the parts into the oven’s firepit for fuel. Figuring it would be enough, she pictured the old diagrams she’d learned in school and cast a tiny tongue of blue fire. The stool went up in flames.

It looks like the spells that kept this place intact don’t protect it from flame, she thought, taking note. She huddled by the open oven door, enjoying the warmth. Magnificent.

The fire was not large or impressive, but it served her needs. Already, she could feel the chill leaving her. Rarity dug out her tarp and used it as a blanket, spreading it out beside her makeshift campfire. It would be fine, sleeping in the house. For one night, at least, it would be fine. Root and Branch had said not to, but surely one night wouldn’t make any difference. She would be fine.

She loved her fire. She could pretend that the eyes that she’d felt on her since she crossed over into Jannah slowly receding. Yes, she could stay here for a long time.

She looked back at the gun. She had intended to check the rooms, but the urgency of the precaution had left her.

What a fine weapon it was. What craftsmanship! And to think that she could simply pull it up... like so, and point... and suddenly the world was changed. What a marvelous invention, that could hold power in such an elegant frame! All one had to do was wield this beauty, and the nasty faces and the leering, hard eyes of those guards would fall and be downcast and terrified. She could feel the hypothetical fear in the air like a timberwolf, and she liked it. Power, what every Lady treasured as a commodity. Power flowing from the mouth of this Griffon artifact.

Rarity yawned, and laid the gun at her hooves. She continued to stare at it, her eyes tracing over every detail.

She wondered what Rainbow was doing, up in the Citadel. Was she struggling to get free? Perhaps right now, she was bound in chains with her wings behind her back...

Not Rainbow. She sighed. Not my Rainbow. She wouldn’t let them pin her wings back. She’d kill them before that, or die herself. Or escape.

But she would still be trapped, and with no one to help her. Rarity felt suddenly powerless again, and no gun could help.

She wanted to cry, and a Lady’s keeping of a stiff upper lip be damned. She was wet. She was cold. She simply could not be expected to do this. She wanted Rainbow back.

Rarity buried her face in her hooves, the gun near her horn, and cried. The warmth of the fire did nothing for her mood.

Rarity knew she was dreaming.

She knew that this was a dream because Rainbow Dash was performing a Sonic Rainboom, her signature move. Young Flyer’s Competition. Oh, yes. She was falling. She’d forgotten.

Rarity opened her mouth and screamed.

Clouds raced by. Her heart was hammering in her throat, and she flailed. Her hooves made contact with something, and she heard a sickening crack. There, above her, were the still forms of the Wonderbolts.

Out cold.

She was still screaming, and now she knew there was no help coming at all. She’d probably doomed her only help.

But there was Rainbow.

Perhaps that was the moment that Rarity first saw her. Rainbow’s face tense with determination, her eyes hard, her mane flowing back, her hooves outstretched. She was about to cry out again for Rainbow, but then the world was cast in color and she felt hooves lift her up.

The alicorn was kind of new, though.

As Rainbow bore her up to safety, she saw the alicorn following closely. The newcomer was beautiful, with a coat of molten gold and a mane like the sun.

And then suddenly, Rainbow and the Wonderbolts were gone, and she was soaring up on wings of her own.

“Rainbow!”

Rarity looked everywhere, panicked. Where was Rainbow? What was this? Yet she didn’t waver from her ascension. The alicorn and she kept the same pace sunwards, and then...

Rarity had always been a heavy sleeper, and she didn’t wake until it was on her back.

She screamed into the night. The fire was out, and she could feel something equine on her, his hooves trying to pin her down. Rarity felt a hot, rancid breath on her cheek and she screamed again.

She thrashed, but her attacker was too strong. She could feel him crushing her, pinning her to the ground.

He was yelling something, but she wasn’t paying attention. She reached out with her magic and found the gun right in front of her. He hadn’t seen it in the dark.

She turned it around, pressed her cheek against the cold floor, and fired.

It was like a cannon right beside her head, shattering her ear drums. She could feel heat and something wet as the fire briefly illuminated the kitchen. The top of her head felt hot, like it was on fire. Her attacker was male—she could hear him screaming. He rolled off, and she heard him rolling and crying in the dark. She kicked at him, screaming again, trying to put as much distance between her attacker and herself as she could.

She thought she heard something else, but the dying stallion’s last cries covered it up. She covered her ears and tried to feel for her pack. Where was she? The flash had ruined her night vision.

Her face was wet. His spit? His blood? Oh. Oh gods... Rarity shook violently, and touched her hoof to her face. She summoned up her little magical light, but it winked in and out with her convulsions of horror.

The hoof was smeared with blood. Crimson stained the off-white of her coat.

The light went out. She scrambled away from the body, hyperventilating and fighting the urge to retch. He was all over her, on her coat, in her mane! He was dead over there, she knew it.

The light stayed dead. She couldn’t see him. She wouldn’t. He was probably torn to shreds, the way the captain had described the “buckshot”...

Rarity crawled a bit and vomited.

It was then that the other hoof came down. She felt something on her again, and before she could stop them, she’d been thrown against the hard wall.

Somepony shone a light in her eyes and blinded her. “Gods, look what she did to ‘im! Got his—”

“Do I look like I care? Just hold on to that gun!”

The stallion who had her against the wall was doing something. She tried to look, but she put a hoof behind her head and she was stuck. It didn’t matter anyway. Rarity felt something cold touch her horn. Something iron.

“No!” She really struggled now, kicking at this stallion. He grunted as she made contact, but Rarity had no leverage and the inhibitor ring slipped over her horn.

It was like an amputation. The warm magic background radiation of her world was gone. She couldn’t even feel her horn anymore.

The stallion laughed, and she had never hated anyone or anything more than she hated him at that moment. Him and his disgusting laugh.

“She’s safe. What was that? Lemme see it.”

Movement behind her, and a low whistle. Sound bounced all around the stone walls of the kitchen, confusing her. The one holding her spoke. “Gods, lookit! Where’d ye get such a thing?”

Rarity refused to answer.

She didn’t see it coming, with the inhibitor leaving her feeling numb and her eyes to the wall. She didn’t even hear his hoof whistling through the air before she felt it on the back of her head. Her face was crushed against the wall, and she went limp. She tried to open her eyes all the way, but her head pounded and she closed them again. Rarity groaned.

“Ah, doesn’t matter. Looks like we found her! Didn’t even have to try.”

“Nope! Description was... pretty accurate. Let ‘er loose, I ain’t seen her yet.”

She felt the pressure on her back evaporate and then the floor coming up to greet her as if she were a thousand miles away. The sound of her own body hitting the floor was like a distant muffled drum. Rarity tried to focus on the mercenaries, but when she saw blood beside her... she knew she’d be out before long. She was done for. No magic, no gun, bleeding all over the ancient house. Alone, with Rainbow far away.

I’ll join her in her imprisonment, at least.

The two mercenaries were earth ponies decked out in black chainmail. The one who’d actually grabbed her was the taller one, dark red with a golden mane and for an absurd moment, her mind thought he was Big Macintosh. The thought made her want to cry. The other stallion was smaller, with a strange gun of his own mounted on his saddle, and a small bit with what she assumed was a trigger. The Captain on the way over had called it a rifle, she remembered. A battle saddle, he’d said with a grin.

They both got their eyeful, as if they were trying to convince themselves that this was the pony who had killed their associate. An unpleasant smile slowly blossomed on the face of the larger stallion, and it made her feel exposed and dirty.

“Been a long time. Since we been back to the Acropolis,” he announced. His partner, surprised out of a reverie, caught the idea rather quickly.

“Long while.”

“They got some more mares in, I hear.”

“That’s far away, though.”

Realization at last dawned on her. Rarity tried to to rise to her hooves to back away or get the ring off or anything. Not that. Anything, anything at all, but that.

They laughed at her as the smaller stallion circled around to the only other door. There was nowhere for her to run, not anymore. Slowly, they closed in, and Rarity’s terror boiled over at last into fury. She would show them. If they thought they would turn her into their plaything, they would experience a rather rude awakening. It was as if all the long line of her defunct house rose up in her at once. She felt like she was on fire. At the moment, I’m thinking a horn where it shouldn’t be, you...

No time for thinking. She was moving, charging the smaller stallion right in front of her. His laughter died on his tongue, and his mouth was still open as two things happened at once.

First, Rarity’s horn bent the chainmail on his shoulder inwards with such force that it snapped, and her horn pierced the flesh at an awkward angle. He howled. The second was that the door behind him exploded inwards and a third stallion jumped on his back with a roar.

The newcomer, the smaller mercenary, and Rarity rolled on the floor in a heap. Rarity managed to slip away, her head aching from the primal charge, and to her joy she found that the inhibitor was halfway off. She pushed at it with her hooves while the other mercenary shouted.

It was off!

When she turned to face him, the larger mercenary was hooflocked with none other than Branch, the earth pony guide she’d left behind at the Wall. She called out to him.

“Branch! Duck!”

He obeyed immediately, leaving his attacker confused and off balance. Rarity picked up the pitcher she’d seen earlier with her renewed magic and swung it at the villain’s face with as much force as she could muster. He sputtered and went down, behind the counter and out of sight.

Her vision in the dark had always been poor; she couldn’t see a thing. Rarity summoned magical light that sat on the edge of her horn.

The smaller mercenary lay still, the destroyed door on top of him. Root was beside him, panting. Branch trotted out of the shadows, a scar over his eye but otherwise fine.

It was Branch that spoke with a smile.

“We couldn’t leave ye, mila—”

She didn’t let him finish. She was on him, hugging him, sobbing into his shoulder. He looked over to his brother with a perplexed look and shook his head.

“So... that feeling I’ve had all this time, that I was being watched?”

“I suppose could be us, aye. Mares have intuition ‘bout such things, least m’goodwife says it’s the truth. I think perhaps it were us, but it could just be the place,” Branch explained.

“Bad place,” his brother agreed between bites of bread.

They’d brought her things up themselves, and offered her bread and some watered wine for her trouble. She’d accepted gratefully, and let them do most of the talking.

From the rooftop, she gained a good view of the Acropolis. The brothers were sure they’d be able to sneak in before the next evening, and she had rejoiced. Or tried to. Whenever joy at seeing Rainbow again flourished, she would hear that rattling whine and the booming sound of gunfire right beside her face. She wouldn’t touch it again. She would rather die; there were things worse than death. At any rate, she feared it more than the mercenaries would now, and attempting to use it would only get her into a confrontation she was sure to lose.

So when they had been busy helping her, she’d thrown the gun into the drains.

It was an empty gesture, really. A quick inventory had uncovered a severe lack of ammunition for the weapon, with only two more shells surviving the water. But she couldn’t bear to keep it even as a tool to bluff with. It scared her.

“But we didn’t make it very far, if ye ken. Honest, we didn’t.”

“Felt awful,” Root chimed in.

“Yes. And I’m glad we turned around and found you!”

She sighed and laid down, looking out over the city. “How did you find me, anyhow? I’m a little worried about that.”

“Smoke. Went up yon chimney and called us from afar. I assume that ye lit a blaze, aye?”

She nodded.

“That’s how. We’d all but lost ye before that.”

“Glad we didn’t.”

“I’m glad you found me as well, gentlecolts. I bore you no ill-will before, and even if I did, ‘twould be all fair between us now. I can’t thank you enough for your bravery.”

Branch smiled, a little embarrassed. “Thankya, it were nothin’.”

“I’d say it was a lot of somethi’s. They all hurt,” whined his brother. Rarity smiled softly as that remark began a silly round of play-argument.

She looked back at the city. A dead city, like a wide graveyard, with the acropolis like some sort of grandiose mausoleum at the center of it all. Only it held the living, and not the dead. Specifically, it held Rainbow Dash in some cell.

With adrenaline gone, she felt exhaustion take over once more. She needed rest for tomorrow; it was the day of Rainbow’s deliverance. Or at least, she hoped.

Rarity shivered. She could still feel eyes on her, but now she rested easier. The colts would keep her safe. It’s just the city, I suppose. It’s getting to me, with its creepy atmosphere.

The city waited as she fell asleep again.

Author's Note

Guns.

All foolishness or mistakes with the gun is me. Necro tried to show me, but I'm still unsure. The gun is called a "blunderbuss" but it's just a Griffon shotgun, basically. A little compact sawed off kind of thing used as a last resort. The Captain who gave it to her figured she needed something that she wouldn't have to aim well.

Rarity is no gunslinger.

IV. I Sought You, For You Were Lovely and My Own

The Acropolis of Jannah was massive.

It was a straight climb, no incline, taller than any building she had ever seen. The walls atop it seemed a world away, and the small caverns and balconies that dotted the outside surface of the mighty plateau seemed unattainable. These natural fortifications dwarfed the pure white of the city’s outer walls, and Rarity felt small.

Making their way here had been easier than she’d expected. Even with patrols, Rarity had just seemed to know where to go. The prospect of avoiding detection had not fazed her a bit.

They had just seemed so familiar. It had all seemed so very familiar.

All morning, as the towering citadel had beckoned, it had tugged on her memory like a colt at his mother’s apron. Had she dreamed of these streets? Had looking out over them as she finally closed her eyes seared them into her memory? She hadn’t paid nearly that much attention.

And yet when she came to a street, she knew it. When she turned at an intersection or crossed through a now barren park, she knew exactly what would be ahead of her. It was if she’d flown over this city and walked its streets her entire life.

And even now, as she stood before the awe-inspiring heart of the once mighty city, a sense of familiarity played with her mind.

Familiarity, unfortunately, did not equal concrete knowledge of how to enter without using the front door.

“There has to be some way,” she insisted. “I’m sure of it.”

“Are ye, now?” Root asked, as he walked behind her, watching for pursuit.

“Absolutely. As I live.”

“Well, as ye live, I’ve not found one yet.” He sniffed irritably.

Rarity sighed for perhaps the hundredth time in the last hour. “Branch... I know it seems strange, but you simply must trust me. I know there’s a way in. It doesn’t matter, anyhow. It’s all quite moot. Unless you wish to try your luck at the front gate.”

Branch grimaced and looked away from her, grumbling.

But how could she explain? There wasn’t any good reason for her surety, really. Just... an impression. That there was one. She’d tried to explain it to him twice already, and both times the burly earth pony had simply looked at her strangely. He probably thinks me mad.

Sometimes I feel that way, in this place. She looked over her shoulder again, and Root cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. She shook her head, as if to say it was nothing, and then went back to searching.

The feeling of being watched never left for long. It wasn’t like the feeling she got when some stallion was eying her futilely from across the cafe, or when someone was looking for her. It was a strange sort of feeling, like somepony was walking beside her, matching every step she made. An alright sort of companionship, just walking. It must be from walking with the brothers.

In a way, it reminded her suddenly of walking with Rainbow after the moon had risen in the sky, down the lonely streets of Ponyville.

Why...? No, Rarity, she warned herself, but it was too late. Her mind was pulled along by nostalgia and homesickness, and the rhythmic beat of her hooves against the cobblestone faded away.

Rarity breathed in the cold night air, and shivered despite her warm apparel. Rainbow chuckled and nuzzled under her chin, and Rarity smiled. She loved the feel of Rainbow’s feathered wings and of her coat, warm no matter what. She let out a happy sigh, and her warm breath showed up as a little fog in front of her.

Her hooves crunched against the snow that was starting to collect in the streets.

“So,” Dash began as they walked into the empty square.

“So,” she responded with a chuckle. She kissed Dash on the cheek, and they stopped to watch the snow fall.

“You’re crazy. I’m doin’ alright, but I’m a pegasus. You don’t have resistance to the cold, Rares.”

Rarity simply continued to smile.

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep, long breath and holding it as she walked. She shouldn’t. She really, really shouldn’t... and yet. But loneliness is hard to fight. She missed Rainbow. It had been so long since she’d heard that voice.

“So why? It’s just snow, Rares.”

“Yes, well, to you maybe,” she sniffed, pretending to be offended. Rainbow rolled her eyes. “But to me, it means a little more! It‘s the first snow! When I was a filly, I loved the snow.”

Rainbow walked forward, right in front of her. That prismatic tail swayed and it was Rarity’s turn to roll her eyes. “Bored, Rainbow Dash, most fearsome of ponies?”

“Most awesome, Rarity. Most awesome. And nah, just movin’ my hooves. I can’t imagine you as a little kid.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I mean... I still lived in Cloudsdale then, probably. But I can just imagine you, little filly Rarity.” She started laughing, her wings flaring as she struggled for breath. Rarity harrumphed.

“Oh... gods. ‘I want my cutie mark to be.... FASHION!’” she cried, changing her voice to sound like a cross between Sweetie’s and Rarity’s. Rarity scowled at her laughing pegasus, but then chuckled.

“I suppose. I was rather eager, as a filly. I worked on costumes for the school plays like my poor little life depended on them!” She recalled feverishly sewing, her control of magic still weak.

“I bet they were awesome,” Rainbow said, and then she smiled that award-winning lopsided grin. She loved that grin, lived for it.

Tears pooled at the edges of her eyes, and she tried to blink them away.

“Branch?”

“Yes, milady?”

“Is there anyway we can stop in a few minutes? I know we can’t be seen, but the tarp is camoflauged, correct?”

“Oh, aye, of course,” he answered, not looking back. “See yon guardhouse? I think we may try to see inside ourselves anyhow just to make sure it’s not what we need. Secret passageways for the guards, if ye ken.”

“Of course,” she echoed, and wiped her eyes with a hoof. They came away wet and she hated it. It was a miracle she hadn’t spent the whole trip crying, really. It had always been a matter of time. Useless, useless, useless. Oh, Rainbow.

Branch led on, but she could care less. She knew there was a way in, that certainty never left her for all of its refusal to explain itself.

“And I’m tellin’ ye, yer bein’ stubborn.”

“Better,” Root responded as he had many times over, doing his best around the tool in his mouth.

Branch sighed, frustrated, and sat. His brother’s professed skills with simple machinery were not showing themselves. Rarity ignored them both, lost in her own thoughts in the other room.

The small guard house built into the side of the cliff had been promising, but as soon as they’d reached the door, Root had heard hoofsteps and so they’d hid. Sure enough, there were patrols about the base. It was luck alone that saved them; there was a long outcropping beside the flat, rectangular building that the patrol had needed to go around. It had bought them time.

And so they’d rushed in blindly. She had hid under the window beside the door, and tried to hold her breath as they trotted by. Every step outside the window had been torture, like she could feel them on her chest and on her stomach, marching.

It was only after the mercenaries had passed out of sight and sound did Branch find the door. It was a new door, and the rather large padlock and chain on its handles were very recent. On top of that, it was situated in the back of the building, where it met the rock, in the rather empty armory. Across the long hall from her, Rarity knew they were working at picking that iron lock. Branch would wander the mostly empty room, staring at the door and the patient Root. He would pretend to inspect the ancient spear racks. He would shuffle listlessly.

Rarity had noted it, but drew no conclusions. She’d retreated further into the waystation,finding a side room. She guessed tiredly that it had once been some sort of office for an officer. Perhaps some middling soldier of Jannah had had a nice desk, a picture of his wife. But her usual imagining of such things would have to wait. She was occupied.

They lay together in the early morning light.

“Twilight’ll be here soon,” Dash said presently, but didn’t move.

Rarity did, however. She scooted closer and kissed Rainbow’s cheek before sighing. She loved these lazy mornings when neither of them were working and they could simply sleep in. Sometimes, Dash would play music on her new... whatever it is that thing was called. MPs or some silliness. The new kind. And it was nice. Rarity loved her singing voice, and always took the time to coax her love into singing, when she thought Dash would be amenable.

“It can wait,” she said softly.

“I guess,” Dash said, and once again Rarity was amused at how easy it was to convince Rainbow that being lazy was the best course of action. When choosing between exertion and a nice soft cloud, Rainbow chose a cloud whenever possible.

Rainbow shifted, stretching. “What time is it, Rares?”

Rarity blinked the sleep out of her eyes and sought the alarm clock with her magic. She pulled it over to her face and held it suspended above her for a moment.

“Eight,” she said. “Or so.”

The clock read 8:25 exactly, but she wasn’t going to say that. Twilight would come when she came, and telling Rainbow it was almost half past would just make her want to get up. And Rarity never wanted to move. She never wanted Rainbow to move. Moving meant leaving.

Rainbow closed her eyes again. “Music?”

“Sure.”

She at up with a soft groan, and rested on her haunches. Rarity found the buttons and pushed them still not sure about this new machine. Her old player had been quite fine, thank you. But technology was moving fast. They were building carts now that could move of their own accord, and Luna talked about earth ponies flying.

“I am my mother's only one
It's enough...”

Rarity could hear that song playing even know, the guitar and the soft but steady beat of somepony’s hoof upon the ground. Was that how they did it? She didn’t know.

Branch groaned, and Rarity idly wondered if perhaps he was nervous about another patrol.

“Brother, friend, Eon’s blood! How long does it bloody take ye?”

“Long enough to vex ye,” the other stallion replied, spitting out the lockpick. “Branch, you try. Stop moving.”

Grumbling, the stallion with the ragged mane did just that, sitting on his haunches before the lock, fiddling with it.

Of course, they had asked Rarity if she could, but she’d denied that she was capable. A lie, but one that was necessary. She was in no condition to focus her magic in such a way. Though, that was not to say that she was without the knowledge; far from it. She’d actually learned how to pick locks with magic as a younger mare. How had that come up? Who had taught her? She remembered a nice neighbor in the apartment. Was it the old grandmother down the hall?

She couldn’t remember, it was more than a decade ago. It was simply wonderful, she reflected, how the useful memory of how she managed to pick locks with magic before had deserted her and how Rainbow had set up tents in her mind. Wonderful.

“So, you’re startin’ to like Good Winter?” Rainbow asked, pronouncing it with the proper accent. It was strange hearing the correct sound on her tongue.

“Of course, darling. He is quite calming.”

“Somethin’ like that. What’s keeping Twilight, I wonder?” Rainbow yawned, and looked out the window.

Rarity wished the window was closed. She wished that Rainbow wouldn’t look out it and think about the train or even about flying. Flying carried her way. She might get on the train, and go West with Twilight. Something caught in her throat.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

But a Lady cannot dodge the issue at hoof forever. “I’ll miss you,” she said quietly, wishing Rainbow Dash would’ve spoken at all to give her some indicator of mood. The words sounded awful on her tongue, like admitting she was wrong. They tasted like giving up. It was only for a while, wasn’t it? Three months, hadn’t Twilight said that? She couldn’t remember. She thought so, but... it was too long. She needed her here. Already the bed’s future emptiness weighed her.

“Clothe,” said Branch as he worked. Rarity could hear the clink of metal against metal and tried to imagine the lock in her mind from all those years ago, the one she’d learned on. It was a spell, she knew that, but not an automatic sort of thing. Easy to botch.

That was it! She remembered now, the lock on Professor Amethst’s desk. Control of Magic 101, freshman year. She’d loved getting students to try the lock, knowing it would peak their interests. It had captured Rarity's imagination for sure, helped take her mind off of the loneliness of cold Manehattan, practicing her minute control. She’d used it as a kind of meditation.

How could I forget about that? I never told Rainbow. She’d probably think it was “awesome” or some such, that I could pick locks. Or that I used to.

She stood with a soft groan. Her weary bones complained quietly, but she ignored them as best she could.

Branch cursed and spat the tool out. “Damn it to Tar’trus, but I can’t do it. No idea what ‘bout it, no kennin’ at all.” He looked at his brother apologetically, but Root shook his head.

“If I might try my hoof...?” Rarity said softly. Both earth ponies looked at her, hesitant.

“I thought... ye might be unwell...?” Branch offered,tilting his head.

“Alright,” Root replied, and gestured. His crimson brother caught his eyes, but the big stallion shrugged. Rarity was grateful to him.

She sat before the door iron door and stared at the lock.

Rarity took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to remember the classroom. Professor Amethyst gesturing to the lock with a hoof. A test, or a quiz. Something. Her professor was watching, and she was waiting.

Gingerly, Rarity reached out for the lock with her magic, feeling around it, surprised at how naturally it came to her. It was, of course, Iron, and somewhat resistant to magic. No matter, there were ways around that. She opened her eyes again. Looks similar to the one from her test.

She fashioned a kind of tool in midair, her light blue aura focusing into a rod. It flew straight and true into the lock. The earth ponies looked on in awe, but she ignored them.

It was very similar. She wondered idly, as she shaped her “key”, if perhaps it hadn’t been made in the same Equestrian shops that had created Professor Amethyst’s long ago.

“Yes,” she said softly, smiling. She was close, and the process was all coming back to her. It was trial and error, testing each of the tumblers in turn. One refused to cooperate, and she paused. Oh. Those. She altered her magic, considering a cut from an angle into her key design...

And it fit. She chuckled, and the lock opened. With a tug of her magic, Rarity pulled it and the chain from the door handles. Behind it she found a long stairway leading up, dark except for occasional torches on the walls.

“I’ll be...” Branch said, and she turned to find him agape. She giggled, the sound almost shocking her. It echoed lightly up the dim stairwell. They all stood there, listening to it. Finally, Rarity broke the awkward silence.

“Gentlecolts?” she said, gesturing. “Surely you wouldn’t let a lady head into enemy territory first.”

Branch turned even darker crimson than he already was, and she laughed quietly. She had missed teasing. It had been some time. But he went ahead, and she followed quietly.

They watched the proceedings below with a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination.

Coming this far had been surprisingly easy. The stairs had led to the first floor and to a grand hall filled with mercenaries and strange ponies with hoods and robes. They’d slipped around the side, hiding behind pillars and waiting for chances to move.

Then had come the side door into a series of corridors and more rooms that had once been servant quarters, she assumed. These had been abandoned: no close calls.

The barracks on the third floor had posed a problem; it had been filled with the strange ponies. A few of them were earth ponies, but on further investigation, they’d found them mostly to be zebras. The zebras had sinister looking hoofblades and Rarity had almost gasped aloud at the horrible scars that marred their limbs and faces.

It had been harrowing, trying to find a way around. The hallways around the barracks chamber with its new bedding were occupied by mercenaries and hooded zebras, and in the end only a strange messenger from the floor above had saved them. He’d arrived in the large room while Rarity watched from a doorway in the corner.

His eyes had been red, as if he’d been drinking. His movements were strange, once again almost drunken, but not quite. They were too bizarre for that. He twitched, his ears—his torn, twice pierced ears—seemed to act with a life of their own. As he spoke his guttaral tongue, his teeth ground together. Rarity suspected some sort of drug.

Just like that, though, they’d left.

Unfortunately, Rarity had realized that their only option was to see where the strange zebras were going. If nothing else, they could figure out where D’Jalin was. Maybe they would see Rainbow.

She was so glad that her hopes of seeing Rainbow at this assembly had been thwarted.

The mad zebra was dead; she had no idea why or what he had said, but his “friends” seemed to accept this with wild ecstasy. She hadn’t been able to watch it all. The blood had been too much. Her past misadventure in the dark maze come back to her, and she’d saw Rainbow bloody and mangled again. She’d almost heard the whispers from that place where the sun was silent, telling her it would happen. That it might happen.

He’d danced, while D’jalin had watched in judgement from atop a rather crude throne. His comrades and cut him until he the white between his stripes had become crimson, and then he’d danced. As his hooves beat the ground to the timing of a hastily produced drum, the pooling life on the ground had begun to change.

She’d almost cried out in shock at seeing it. No unicorn was ignorant of this, of course. It was something you read and heard vague rumors about in textbooks.

Blood magic.

It had risen up, danced with him, glowed with magic beyond her reckoning, and then been used up quickly. She could see no purpose in it except the show, but D’Jalin had seemed to sigh and close his eyes.

And then he’d begun to speak, while his disciple had laid there before him, dead on the floor.

She had no words. There were none.

“Lady? Lady Rarity?”

She looked at Root, and knew she must look horrid. Her hooves trembled, and she slumped against the balcony’s solid railing, thankful for its shelter. Her frazzled, sweat-absued mane was in her face, and she tried to brush it away. But her damn hooves kept shaking! Why?

“Yes?” she managed to say with a relatively steady voice.

“I think...” he gulped. “I think we may need to be splittin’ up.”

“What?” she asked, her voice sharp and dangerous.

“I know, I know. But I’ve... been thinking, if ye ken. We’re barely avoidin’ yon eyes of the crazed folk. It’s because we’re all three of us together, bunched up.” He shrugged, suddenly unsure.

“What about the guards? One against many,” the other stallion cut in, frowning.

Rarity nodded. “Yes, and we’re not exactly familiar with the layout.”

“I know, I know,” Branch whispered with a pained grimace. “Just... listen. We need to find yer ladylove quick, kennit? Very quick. Ye saw that, I know ye did.”

She nodded again.

He shivered. “Don’t know any Zebra. Don’t know much about magic. What I do know is that D’Jalin has been sacrificing ponies from the villages. But we’ve started to fight back, and so I guess he’s using homegrown offerin’s.”

“And?” Don’t you dare say it.

Maybe he took the hint, as her eyes bored into his. Regardless, he looked away. “Look... Lady... I mean... I don’t know how to tell ye this, but this is the best idea I have. If we go on like this we’re gonna be caught. You can see that, aye?”

She broke her stare off and looked back down at her hooves. The shaking had stopped.

“Yes, I do see that, Branch. We’re too large a group.” She winced at how the “s” in see hissed as she whispered.

They were silent, thinking. Below them in the assembly hall, D’Jalin had finished speaking. The cultists had begun to disperse. The mercenaries—who had looked almost as horrified as Rarity—were first to leave.

“I hope this isn’t a ‘ladies first’ situation, gentlecolts,” Rarity whispered, trying to break the uneasy silence with a smile.

Branch gave her an attempt at a smile. Root’s reaction was a bit more sincere.

“Not if ye don’t wish to. We could split in two groups.” Root said softly.

“No,” she responded with a shake of her head. “No, that wouldn’t help. We’ll be parted in three ways, and we’ll find Rainbow. The sentiment is appreciated, Root.”

He nodded.

“Rarity, milady... I’m sorry. I don’t like this...” He searched for words, but she gestured with her hoof for him to stop.

“It’s fine. I’ll be brave if you will. Though I wish you two had some of those hoofblades...”

“Ye have yon gun, aye? Surely ye’ll be fine,” Branch whispered. Rarity got the impression it was mostly to convince himself. “We’ll meet back here. It’s out of the way.”

She kept a straight face. No, I don’t. It’s long gone, and Celestia forbid that I should touch such a thing as long as I live. “I shall be quite defended, Branch. You may go with that for peace.”

He nodded.

Rarity was bunched up behind a marble pillar, standing awkwardly on her hindlegs, praying fervently. A few more hoofsteps echoed in the hall, and with each one, she winced.

Soft grumbling. Slowly, her heart pounding, she peeked around the pillar.

There were only two guards here, sitting on the other side of the strange collonaded passageway. She’d gathered that this had been some sort of upper-class market, open to the needs of the nobility in peacetime. These two earth ponies had taken up residence in one of the old establishments, watching the way up to the grand stair.

She’d come out of the door across from their little guard post without an ounce of caution. She’d even been about to comment on it, like an idiot, and then she’d heard those hoofsteps. Stupid, stupid, stupid! And now she was stuck here. She moved and they would see her.

Please, go back in. It’s getting near dinner, is it not? Surely you’re hungry or something.

But they didn’t move. They just sat there and talked.

She felt trapped—no, she was trapped. Stupid, stupid Rarity, walking right out into the open. If she’d kept moving towards the grand stair, she’d have been there by now. These two ruffians would be none the wiser. Rainbow would be closer. But of course she hadn't! She'd frozen up as soon as she'd heard that first step, hadn't made a decision, and now? Stuck.

It was far too typical of her progress through the exhaustingly large citadel. How these ancient ponies had managed to carve out such winding caverns and massive chambers was beyond her. Rarity was sure she’d walked more than a mile easily, and she wasn’t even past the public areas yet.

Root and Branch are probably going to find her first. She watched the hired mare play with her hoofblades, scowling down at them. Yes, they probably would find Rainbow first, and then there would be Rarity, being useless. Out of her element.

Rainbow would be sitting in her cell, miserable, probably chained to the floor or the wall. Her wings were probably bound. Rainbow would never let them do that, would she? But not even her Dash could stay awake and alert forever. She had to face that. It was probably dark. Was she thinking of the maze while she laid there, grounded? Rarity hadn’t stopped thinking about it since the first stairway in the waystation.

One of the mercenaries moved.

Her eyes burned into his back as he trotted through the doorway, pushing the partitioning cloth aside. As soon as it swished back into place, she looked back to his companion. The mare in the barding—earth pony, on the small side with her lance leaning against the wall—shifted and yawned.

Rarity’s hooves felt like they were on fire. Her chest constricted.

She could see Rainbow as if the mare was standing right before her.

It was little known, but still quite true: the House of Belle had been a terror on the field of battle. Loved by the common folk, generous in peace, and peerless in martial prowess. The valor of a thousand unicorns before her boiled in her veins. Somehow, she knew what to do.

It was like somepony entirely different was whispering in her ear. She knew how to cast sound dampening spells; you had to, when Sweetie Belle was your sister and you needed to work. Rarity knew she could land a few good kicks. She’d fought a manticore! She felt a kind of distant surprise at that memory, but yes, she had bucked it in the face, hadn’t she?

The spell was up, slammed on the door in a hurry. It was shoddy, sloppy spellcasting, but it was enough. All she needed was a chance, just a short moment. Twenty seconds of stupidity.

She had a lot of ground to make up in the rescuing department.

Rarity was out from cover, on the bored mare before she could make a noise. With a second spell, she pushed the lance far out of reach. With a third, she threw the mare into the open hallway. With a fourth, her magic beginning to strain and her horn beginning to hurt, she plastered two more walls of silence at either end of the short passageway.

“Granite! Granite, I foun’ her! Gr—” When her voice began to echo, she recognized Rarity’s magic immediately. No help was coming.

The mare rose to her hooves and swung at Rarity. Damn! Hoofblades, small ones. She edged back, trying to maintain her balance.

The snarling earth pony swung again and again, each time her hooves with their serrated, edged spur-like blades coming with inches of Rarity’s face. Finally, she connected. Rarity was too slow, too unbalanced already. Her forehoof connected and then the blade sliced a jagged line across Rarity’s cheek. Rarity cried out in agony, and fell back.

If her eye had been open, she’d have lost it.

Blood ran down her cheek. The wound was deeper than she thought possible. She swore, frightened. The other mare began to gloat and trotted over with a wide grin.

Rarity backed up, trying to rise, but her back was against the cold marble tile and there was nothing she could do...

At least, that’s what it appeared like. The mercenary began to laugh. “That’s what ye get then, lass, tryin’ ta get the ju—”

Rarity bucked her in the face with both hindlegs, and the feel of the laughing mare’s face under her hooves made her sick.

The mercenary dropped like a stone.

Trembling, she got back up and shook herself. She didn’t look at the fallen mare. She focused on the second guard. She could afford to have him behind her when she moved on. She knew what had to be done.

But she didn’t want to. She wanted to run, drop the sound barriers that were already fraying at the edges and just flee. Rarity wanted out. She wanted Rainbow. Gingerly, she touched her face with a hoof. It came away bloody, and her cheek stung where she’d touched it.

But then she grit her teeth. Just do it or don’t. If you’re going to risk him sneaking up on you, make your mind up.

So she did. She left, running for the door that led out into another large chamber, this one more empty than the grand hall. Old tapestries preserved from time by magic hung on the walls, and a small statue of a smiling Alicorn sat proudly and kindly on a pedestal. There were no ponies. There was only the clip-clopping of her own hooves against the marble.

Rarity took a steadying breath as the adrenaline finally began to drain from her limbs, leaving them feeling leaden. There was no choice, exposed as it made her. None at all.

Rarity mounted the stairs.

Author's Note

Edited by randomguy Who Sundered Paradise and also RazedRainbow kept me company in the Gdoc.

The crapfest continues yea verily

Fun fact! Absolution is part of the Songverse and is thus in the same continuity as this story.

Also the song is Bon Iver, which is French apparently for Good Winter. So there you go. Pony Bon Iver

V. I Found You, For You Were Fearless and My Only One

It had gone rather horribly wrong.

Stealing had seemed rather easy, with the aid of magic. She’d skulked behind the pegasus guard, slowly undoing the keys that hung from the side of his saddlebag. They’d come free and how she’d grinned. The locked doors into the makeshift prisons the cultists and their hired muscle had set up wouldn’t stop her now! She’d even managed to get it perfectly with just one eye, the other wrapped in bandages.

Until, with a wicked, toothy smile, the stallion had turned. She nabbed the keys out of the air with her mouth and ran.

Her hooves beat a wild staccato upon the cold tile. The shouts of gleeful pursuit followed. They had her now, they were sure of it. There was nowhere to run. Eventually, they’d outrun her and she’d be theirs. If she hadn’t been hot with effort and fear, she’d have shivered.

She was higher up in the citadel, running along the outside wall. To her right, sunlight poured in, and to her left, the walkway ended and showed a wide open chamber, where a few earth ponies milled about, calling for others to join the chase.

The brothers were nowhere to be found.

Her heart wouldn’t be still; her eyes darted from place to place. There had to be a way out. Ahead was a door and a wall, and she assumed it was a guardhouse. Grateful, she put on another burst of speed and flung open the door with her magic. She raced through.

She closed it behind her and looked around wildly, the keys still in her mouth. There! A stair heading up. She took it, opening the trap door in the ceiling to go up into the next chamber and closing it behind her.

This was a simple hallway with a single colonnade and another set of long, tall windows. There didn’t seem to be anywhere to hide, only doors that would probably lead into old shops or quarters. Closets.

She jogged down the hall, opening each door she came to, looking for a hallway or a room she could hide in.

One of them led to a large room, filled with old statues. She ducked into this new place, and closed the doors just as voices began to drift up from out of the guardhouse.

The chamber was strange, with a lower ceiling than she’d expected. The statues were mostly unfinished, and she suspected it had once been the workshop of some craftspony for the monarch.

Outside, she heard voices.

Rarity considered her options. There was a door on the other side, leading to another long colonnaded walk, and a closet with ancient tools hanging in it on racks. One option, really.

She peeked out into the new hall, only to see a stallion coming around the corner to her left. She ducked back in, slumping against the wall with a strangled moan. One option indeed. Never think that again, Rarity. If you get a chance to think anything, that is.

So she retreated into the tool closet and shut the door preserved door with her magic, shivering a little at the strange touch of this place’s enchantment. As it closed, she was plunged into total darkness.

Rarity struggled to control her breathing. It came fast, panicked. She fidgeted, and something cold and metal touched her. She put both hooves over her mouth to hold in the scream of surprise.

She closed her eyes, even though nothing around her was changed, and carefully laid down. Breathe softly... breathe softly... come now, Rarity, you can do this. She didn’t dare try another sound barrier. If they spoke in the statue room, or made any noise at all, it would echo too much. They’d drag her out into the light and she’d be finished.

Or worse. It came to her with little warning—

—and then she was back in the closet, her throat feeling dry.

They’d passed, arguing over who had lost her, and Rarity had trembled as silently as she could manage.

It was deathly silent now, but she had no way of knowing what that meant. There could still be ponies out there, looking for her, just watching. She would open that door and they’d be on her in a heartbeat, hoofblades out. Those awful eyes and those evil grins...

Hoofblades. She worried about the wound on her face. We all have to sacrifice a bit of our beauty eventually, Rarity. But it was hard to accept. She’d wrapped it up as best she could, but there’d been precious little water left in her small canteen to clean the wound.

She was glad that there were no mirrors to be found and no time to look in them. Slowly, she raised her hoof up, but then stopped it short of touching the bandages. What would Rainbow think? Would Rainbow be dismayed? Certainly not as dismayed as Rarity was.

Rarity laid her head down on her hooves and waited.

This was stupid. She was in a closet, for Celestia’s sake. A closet. Rainbow was somewhere on this level of the acropolis, and she was in a damn closet, afraid to come out. Root and Branch had probably already saved Rainbow. Right now, she knew her pegasus was probably asking them where she was. They’d shrug, and she’d know.She’d know that Rarity had been useless all along, hadn’t accomplished it, in the end. That she’d not had the heart to risk.

You came all this way, didn’t you?

Well, yes, but that made it worse. She’d come all this way, over miles and miles. Over an ocean, even, to an entirely new continent. Only to be stopped here right at the end. By challenges less fearsome than the storm in the airship that had borne her, or the long walk from the shore to Jannah.

Rarity, you can’t stay here forever.

Why not? Rainbow could go on without her. She would only burden her, as she always had. Poor, stupid, flightless Rarity with her dresses. She was an anchor. Root and Branch would get Rainbow out.

You’re being stupid. I’m being stupid.

Maybe. She rolled onto her back and stared at nothing in the pitch black.

You love Rainbow, don’t you Rarity? You love her with every little bit of your heart. The thought of living without her leaves you cold. You almost beat up Twilight just for her location. You almost told the Princess of all of Equestria where she could stuff her caution, all for Rainbow.

Love. Love didn’t make her better at fighting and rescuing. And being sneaky.

No, but it helps. Great heart will not be denied.

That was literally the stupidest line she’d ever heard. Where in Equestria had she gotten that? Had she read it somewhere? But stupid or not, she couldn’t stay here forever. She frowned at the darkness above her. Rarity would simply have to leave this closet.

So she stood and scooted closer to the opening. Her shoulders tensed, and she gritted her teeth. With a soft push from her hoof, the door opened and she readied her magic to throw any assailant against the wall.

But there was nopony there. She closed her eyes, and let out a long sigh as tension left her limbs.

The cell had been empty.

The doors had all been opened.

Chaos ruled.

Even without the guards talking in the center of the trampled, dead garden, it wasn’t that hard to tell what had happened here: Root and Branch. Or perhaps—she almost didn’t dare to hope it—Rainbow had found a way out by herself. The prisoners, in short order, had poured out into the halls. She’d seen a few dead ponies around the door, and she’d mourned them as long as she could afford.

Which wasn’t much. The once complacent mercenaries were riled up, an indolent hive of bees driven into fury. Twice she’d avoided detection only by a fraction of a second, ducking into a room just as pursuit turned the corner. There’d be precious little sneaking up left to do. It would be all face to face confrontation now.

Or none. If Rainbow had indeed escaped...

But she could consider that somewhere safer. The stone bench was not quite the safest place for planning. The two mercenaries fidgeted, waiting. For what, she didn’t know.

Rarity peeked around the bench again, just to make sure they hadn’t moved.

One of them was gone, and she froze. The other looked confused, and wandered out of her sight. Where is he? Time to move,Rarity!

She felt something on her back, and a hoof covered her mouth. Her mind went blank with absolute panic, and she bit down on the blue hoof. She kicked at the air.

“Ow! Gods, Rarity, I know you’re happy to see me, but can the whole bitin’ thing wait? Dammit, that hurts. I know how you get sometimes, but...”

She let go and awkwardly turned over so that she lay on her back.

Rainbow, surprised, rolled off. Rarity was on her in a heartbeat, hugging her fiercely. The guards and the citadel around her faded away.

“Rares, hey, whoa there—”

“Rainbow, if you love me, you will shut up and let me kiss you and cry and hopefully not get caught,” Rarity whispered, and Rainbow shut up. And Rarity got her kiss.

“They went off into the other hallway, towards the High Market. That’s what they call it. I’m pretty sure they’ve rounded up at least some of the runaways. Poor fools,” she ended softly, grimacing. “I don’t know how many got off this floor.”

“How did you get out?”

“That can wait,” Rainbow said quickly, standing. “C’mon, back the way you came.”

Oh, right. Guards. Stealth.

Rarity stood as well, and they took off down the hallway. She followed Rainbow’s lead, her heart full and her lips curling up into a kind of delirious smile. She’d not expected things to go this way, but she didn’t think she minded.

“To answer... your question,” Rainbow began as their hooves beat the marble in time, “you’d be surprised how much brute force I can put into a good kick. Those weren’t meant to be cells. They were meant to be bedrooms. I guess for servants? I don’t know.”

“Probably...” she said, almost tripping when Rainbow stopped her at an intersection. Cautiously, the pegasus peeked around the corner. Rarity heard her breathing loud in her ears. It was far too loud, and with every breath she could almost imagine somepony hearing it and coming to find the source.

Rainbow turned back to her.

“I had like... weeks to work on it. And they just let me, I guess assuming that the doors would hold. I’m athletic, but I’m smaller than most of them. I may have thrown a few tantrums to convince them I just did that kind of thing,” she whispered. “Coast is clear, I think.”

Rarity smiled. “Smart, Dash. Why now, though?”

She shrugged, and then gestured with her head. Quickly, they crossed the intersection. Rainbow continued talking softly as they trotted down the hall.

“Guards were talking about you being in the citadel, and you know I had to come find you! I mean, how could I not?”

She chuckled. “Oh, Dash! It’s been so long. I cannot wait to get out of this place.”

Rainbow smiled at her. Not quite the award winning smile she loved, but they were also on the run. She’d have plenty of time to get one of those out of her later. All the time in the world, because Celestia knew she’d never let Rainbow leave the house again after this. She laughed despite herself.

They ran in silence. She panted, and her hooves burned, but she was happy. A month of desperate lonely searching had led her to these blessed halls and Rainbow. Rainbow, who for all of her suffering was still strong and smiling.

Captivity had been good to her, surprisingly. Her legs had retained much of their tone and strength, and they were as exquisite as Rarity remembered. Her mane was longer than it had been in Ponyville, but it wasn’t as dirty as Rarity had imagined it would be.

“Where are we headed?” she asked, as Rainbow paused at the entranceway into a new hall. Running through the center was a small pond that Rarity assumed had once been filled with fish. The walls broke from the uniformly white surfaces standard throughout the rest of the citadel.

As with the streets of the inner ring, she was filled with a strange certainty. Oh, these... they must be—

“Well, first, we’re headed here. The old royal suites. This is the—”

“Antechamber, yes. How do you know that?”

Rainbow stopped and stared at her, mouth open. “I... heard it? I mean, I’ve heard some of the names of rooms and stuff. Here and there. Where did you hear that?”

“I... don’t know. I’ll explain it later.”

The feeling of being watched was almost physical. Rarity shivered.

“Anyway, you were saying?” she said, a bit too forcefully.

“Uh... yeah, right. Sorry. From here, we’ll head up until we can reach the top. I’ll fly us down to a higher up building, and—”

Rarity interrupted for the second time as they walked around the pond.

“Dash, you can’t fly me that far! You know your wing is hurt from... you know. Twilight’s wedding. The maze, and the trap?”

She stared blankly at Rarity for a moment before shaking her head. “Right. Right, sorry. Okay, anyway. There’s a few other buildings up there... gods, I’m dumb. I totally forgot. I’m sorry, Rarity.”

“It’s... quite alright,” Rarity responded, tilting her head and looking Dash over. She looked fine, but Rarity hadn’t considered what captivity might have done to her mind. Horribly, the thought of D’Jalin using his magic on Rainbow’s memories came to her and she squelched it in a hurry. They’d find out later, when this was all said and done. Oh, please don’t let it be that. I don’t want that... monster’s hooves in my memories with Dash. Well, our memories.

“It’s alright,” she repeated. “But what will our plan be now?”

Rainbow shuffled forward, still leading. “We can head up, let these fools wander around for a little bit, and then we’ll take another entrance back down into the citadel.”

“Misdirection,” Rarity mused, trying to shake off the suspicion that D’Jalin might have hurt Rainbow in ways she couldn’t see. She was being forgetful, not walking or talking quite like the Rainbow she knew... but she couldn’t bear to think of that madzebra rooting around in her love’s head. Not after what she’d seen him command in that atrium. Not after the dance.

“Rainbow... are you feeling alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Fine.” They left the antechamber and walked through richly dressed chambers. Rarity found them all familiar. Were they similar to her temporary quarters in the palace tower, perhaps? "I'm kind of improvising, here."

As Rainbow led her, Rarity found herself more and more troubled. The feeling of being followed became more and more intense. No longer did the strange knowledge seem like mere similarity. She felt as if she’d walked these very halls, looked at these tapestries. The table in the dining room that she passed... she had eaten at it, she felt certain. She remembered meals down to exactly how much the cook had over seasoned them. Everything.

Rarity didn’t know what it meant.

“Almost there, Rarity,” Rainbow said, grinning back at her. She smiled, glad to have Dash a little more confident. Somepony here had to be! She certainly wasn’t.

She watched Rainbow, the smile lingering on her lips. I’ve never been so happy to see those wings in my life. It’s odd, how you remember things differently than how they really are...

“Here we go!” Rainbow announced with a big grin as they turned yet another corner. There, in front of her, was a small stairway. She looked over at Rainbow skeptically.

“That’s it? Isn’t there supposed to be some species of... Temple or some such up there?”

“Er... yeah?”

“One would think the way to such a temple would be paved with a bit more...” she waved her hoof around. “Grandeur. But I can criticize their choices later. You first.”

Rainbow climbed up ahead of her, and opened the door on the ceiling, looking around. She turned back to Rarity.

“Coast is clear, Rarity!” She called, and disappeared up into whatever structure was above them.

Probably some sort of reliquary. Something felt wrong, but she couldn’t place it. As she climbed the stairs, things rattled about in her brain. As she reached the top step, it finally clicked.

The wing that was injured long ago was too perfect. Her legs were too perfect. The way she talked was too perfect, not careless enough.

“You always call me Rares,” she said dully, staring at the wall in front of her where a mosaic of a familiar alicorn stared back. Behind her, there was a green flash that cast an eerie glow on the wall.

“Nopony’s perfect,” replied a gravelly, foreign voice.

She was thrown forward, something hitting her in the back of the head. The golden alicorn swam before her vision, and as she slumped against the wall and into oblivion, she had the most absurd thought: she recognized the golden pony on the wall.

Author's Note

One more chapter to go