Act 1- Part 2- Flight to Canterlot
If you’re going to do it then get on with it.”
“Do what?”
“Kill me.”
The stallion wriggled on the ground, he couldn’t move. His body was lacerated, he wouldn’t survive.
“I’m not going to.”
“It doesn’t matter,” the stallion sighed. “I’m dead anyway.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
---
“Uhh, bread loaves...” Rarity mumbled from inside her dream. She had returned to her boutique after Rainbow modeled the dress, the pegasus had resisted at first but given in when Rarity offered to stich her a new Wonderbolts costume. She had worked all day long, dress after dress, and had settled sown for some well-earned rest afterwards. She was now curled up comfortably inside her favorite blanket, her sleeping mask firmly clamped over her eyes. Being asleep she didn’t hear the faint click of the window opening, or the slight sizzle of unicorn magic levitating an object.
“Blueblood you deserve to get punished… You naughty little foal…” she giggled to herself, turning over once again, and right out of the bed.
“Mwah!” She screamed, flailing about while on the floor. She giggled again when she realized what had happened. She pulled herself to her hooves, using a crackle of magic to clear the dust from her coat. The glow of her horn dimly illuminated the room, which to her shock, held the same unicorn from earlier that day. She screamed and backpedaled, knocking over several mannequins. Her horn’s light went out and the room was cast into darkness.
Her horn’s light went out and the room was cast into darkness…
Rarity breathed heavily, her chest heaving, her ears fluttering. All was completely silent, then she heard him shuffle forward. She backed up more, right into a wall. She stopped breathing, hoping he would be able to find her in the darkness. Several tense seconds passed, perhaps she had imagined him, it would certainly be possible with the stress from earlier today. That line of thought was shattered when the attacker pinned her to the wall by the shoulders, she tried wriggling out but was completely immobilized. She panicked and cast a light spell, accidentally putting too much power into it and making a blinding glare. The attacker yelled and pulled away, momentarily blinded by the attack, Rarity took advantage of this and roughly bucked him to the floor. Her horn lit up once again and she levitated a sewing machine from its place in her room, she shoved it forward quickly, braining the assassin.
She grabbed his tail with magic while still thwacking him with the machine, tossing him into a window. He impacted harshly as it shattered, casting him out of her room in a hail of glass shards. She dashed over to the window, peering out into the night. She could just see him as he disappeared around a street corner. Rarity dragged herself back to bed, casting a restoration spell on the window as she went. She didn’t bother getting back under the blankets, she would shiver with or without them.
“That’s it,” she told herself. “I’m going to Canterlot tomorrow and getting help from the Princesses. This is just too much for one poor mare.”
---
Rarity re-checked her saddlebags. It had been awhile since she had visited Canterlot and she wanted to make sure she packed the essentials. Satisfied she turned for one last look at her boutique, how it stood glimmering in the morning sun, beautiful and eternal. Eternal up to the point that the paint flaked off and the wood rotted. She shook her head, clearing it of the somber thought. She didn’t need to think of inevitable things right after two attempts on her life.
Rarity had left a message for Sweetie Belle, telling her she might be gone for a few days. The filly would be annoyed that she hadn’t had any previous warnings of her sister’s departure, but would surely forget about before it became an issue. It was just the way child’s mind worked. She started to trot her way through Ponyville, saying hello to the occasional early-waker. For the most part the streets of Ponyville were deserted, as was the norm at this point in time. If she didn’t want to catch the early-train she would still be curled up in her blanket, in the warm embrace of dreamy oblivion.
She spotted the hospital as she neared the train station. Should she go in and see if that stallion from yesterday was okay? The answer was given to her by the clock tower, which rang several times, signaling the time she was supposed to be at the station. She broke into a gallop, drawing up at the station just as the train did, barely making the deadline. She walked up to the ticket booth, with the intentions to purchase round-trip tickets to Canterlot.
“Hello Miss Rarity,” welcomed the booth owner. He was a light brown stallion with an unruly dark brown mane. His cutie mark was of a clock, giving hint to his talent of keeping the trains on time.
“Hello Mr. Hooves,” Rarity greeted back. “How is Ditzy?”
“Oh she’s fine. Won the town lottery if you can believe, won just enough to pay off the damages.”
“That’s fantastic darling, I imagine she won’t be pulling many more night shifts. Or you for that matter.” Rarity beamed at the news, maybe her mail would be delivered on time from now on, now that the wall-eyed pegasus could get some sleep.
“No, no more of that. I expect round-trip tickets to Canterlot? 6 bits please.”
Rarity smiled, the booth-runner and she had come to an understanding that the only tickets she purchased were one to Canterlot. It certainly made purchases go faster.
“Yes please, and say hello to Ditzy for me. She simply doesn’t come by the boutique often enough.”
The stallion chuckled nervously a bit, accepting the bits from Rarity and giving her her ticket.
“I don’t think that would be best, remember the porcupine incident?”
It was Rarity’s turn to be a bit embarrassed.
“As long as she doesn’t bring her mail bags with her it should be fine.”
The two friends said goodbye as Rarity moved onto the train. It still amazed her that the metal monstrosity had such wonderfully furbished insides. Delicate gold chandeliers were evenly spaced inside the cabin, supporting a great number of white candles, all enchanted so they wouldn’t drip. Cushy red carpets padded the floors, giving a delightful spring to anypony’s step; booths with leather backed chairs were aligned along either side, providing adequate sitting space. The windows offered a wide view the outside, which would be stunning once they got up to full speed.
Rarity stored her bags in a compartment, lying down inside one of the booths. It would be several minutes before the train took off, giving her time to fall asleep. The door hissed with air-pressure as it opened once again. Rarity lazily cracked open an eye, curious as to who would be joining her on the journey.
A bulky stallion got aboard, his light brown coat and blue horseshoes cutie mark clueing her in to his identity.
“Caramel?” she asked, surprised to see him on the train. To her knowledge the only time he had ridden before was to visit his sister in Appaloosa.
“Oh, hey Rarity, didn’t expect to see you on. Going to Canterlot too I suppose.” He responded, surprise showing on his face.
“Well yes, I’m going to ask the Princess about the assassin attack. But why are you on dear? I thought you would be helping the Apple family on the farm?” She didn’t let him know of the second attack, the work pony would only be needlessly alarmed.
“I believe I can answer that.” Said a white pony, stepping gingerly into the cabin, it was Greyscale, Rarity noted, shocked.
“Caramel here insisted that a wounded gentleman such as myself shouldn’t travel alone. And so I insisted that I purchase both of out tickets and that he stay at my family mansion. The mare who runs his business was kind enough to let him off for the week. I believe Applejack was her name?” He looked to Caramel, who nodded his assurance.
“Uncanny, I’m going to Canterlot also. Funny how fate decides to work.”
Greyscale laughed, once again leaning against Caramel. Rarity noticed that his sibling Fleur had done the same with Fancypants. Maybe it was a quirk of the family to drape themselves off of large stallions.
“I hardly think it’s fate my dear. Simple coincidence is more apt for the situation.” He let out a short laugh.
“But I must agree, uncanny how our paths cross.”