What is Left

by OnionPie

2. Tea

The kitchen was immense. Silverware glinted beside gilded porcelain on high shelves. Dimming twilight shone through wide windows. A clock ticked on the wall. Rarity looked tiny in all that space, working a teapot on a stove.

I stared at her from where I sat by a table. My head was hurting again, and I felt dizzy. Everything was too bright.

Rarity turned to lift a tea bag and winced when she put pressure on her bandaged leg.

I stood up, my chair screeching against the floor.

Rarity looked at me. “No. Please. I’m fine.”

I slowly sank back into the chair.

Rarity stood still over the steaming teapot. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

I looked down. "I didn't either."

She began assembling cups and other items on a silver tray. “You’ve grown.”

“A little, I guess.”

“You’ll be as tall as me at this rate.” She walked over to my table with the tray, not quite succeeding in masking the pain on her face when she walked on her bad leg. “Here you go.” She poured steaming water into a cup and set it down before me.

I looked down at the cup as Rarity seated herself across from me.

“Go ahead,” she said. “It’s lemon.”

“I don’t… like tea.”

“Oh,” Rarity said. “Of course. How foolish of me to forget.” She put my cup back on the tray and began to rise. “I’ll bring you something else.”

“No,” I said, louder than I had intended. “Just… stop for a moment.”

Rarity sat back down.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “How can you be so calm?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You almost killed yourself.”

Rarity looked away.

“Why the fuck would you even do something like that?”

Rarity flinched. “Don’t… use that word. It’s repulsive.”

I stared at her. “What is wrong with you?” I asked. “You have everything. You’re supposed to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

My mouth fell open. “How can you be so—”

“Will you just ask for the money already?”

I choked up.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Money?” Rarity stared down at her teacup. “Why else would you come crawling back?”

My heart dropped. Words and insults fled my mind.

“I need to get ready.” Rarity dropped her spoon in her cup and rose from her chair. “I’m late for a gathering.”

I blinked. “Wait, what? You’re going to a party? Now? Are you insane?”

“It’s not a party. It’s a gathering—a late night one. I’m expected to host the ceremony in the town square.”

“The town square? But—”

Rarity took two steps, yelped, and collapsed on the floor.

I hurried over to help her.

“Don’t touch me!” Rarity snapped. She stood up on her own, trembling.

“You’re not going anywhere like this,” I said.

“I wasn’t going to.” Rarity turned away from me. “But then you had to come and ruin everything, just like you always do.”

My jaw dropped. “I saved your life, you ungrateful—”

Rarity disappeared through a door.

I stormed after her.

The room beyond the door was too big to be called a closet. Dresses hung in a row on a rack. Three tall mirrors stood together in a corner. Colorful shoes and hats lined high shelves.

Rarity picked out a dark-blue dress from the rack.

“If you don’t want me here, fine,” I said. “Just give me my money and you’ll never see me again.”

“No.”

“It’s my money!”

“Then why are you asking me for it?”

“You stole it!”

“Stole it?” Rarity looked at me. “Is that what you think I did?”

“What else would you call it?”

“Inheritance.”

“Half of it was mine!”

“You read her will.” Rarity held the blue dress in front of herself, looking in a mirror. “If mom thought you were responsible enough to handle that kind of money, she wouldn’t have left you out.”

I opened my mouth to yell at her about how I hadn’t done anything wrong, but stopped myself. They had had plenty of reason to leave me out of their will. I probably would have drank myself to death or gambled it away or spent it all on dust.

Rarity put the dress on, turning this way and that as she studied herself in a mirror.

Something on the rack caught my eye. I walked up to it and pulled out a familiar dress, holding it before me in my magic. It was white silk with gold lace, simpler than most, but still beautiful.

I ran my hoof over the soft fabric. “Is this…?”

Rarity glanced at me in the mirror. “Mom’s, yes.” She had already combed her long, damp mane into elegant waves.

“You kept her clothes?”

“Dad’s are in a different closet.” Rarity brushed a mascara rod through her lashes. “I never got around to throwing them out.”

“What? You can’t throw their things away.”

“Since when do you care about their things?” Rarity asked. “You didn’t even visit mom in the hospital.”

“That wasn’t my fault. I would have come and seen her if I could. I was busy.”

Rarity stopped applying makeup. “You don’t even remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Rarity didn’t answer.

“Remember what?” I repeated.

“I found you,” Rarity said, looking away from me in the mirror. “Mom asked for you in the hospital, so I went into that disgusting place with those disgusting individuals abusing that disgusting dust. And I found you, dirty and unconscious and…” Rarity looked pained. “It’s a good thing she passed before she got to see you again. I don’t think her heart could have taken it.”

My chest tightened. “I’m clean now.”

Rarity gave a chuckle.

“I mean it,” I said, looking at her through the mirror with a strange pride. “I’m quitting the dust.”

“Like all the other times you said you’ve quit?”

That threw me off.

“You haven’t changed,” Rarity said. “I can see it in your eyes.”

I scowled, drowning my guilt with anger like I always did. “I don’t need to prove anything to you. I just want what’s mine.”

Rarity tightened her dress and slid the sleeves low enough to hide her bandage.

“It’s my money.”

Rarity continued adjusting her dress like I wasn’t even there.

“What, you think you can just ignore me until I go away?”

She didn’t even look at me.

An old and familiar anger burned inside me, rising to an urge to hit her face until it wasn’t pretty anymore. “Fine,” I said. “I’m going to the party with you.”

Rarity looked at me. “You are not.”

“Yes, I am. I’m not letting you do anything stupid until I get my money.”

“I’m not having you embarrass me in front of my guests.”

“Oh, please,” I said. “I know how to act at parties.”

“I told you, this isn’t a party. It’s a gathering.”

“Same thing. Fancy dress code, right? I’ll just borrow one of yours.” I moved to the most expensive-looking dresses on the rack.

Rarity put a hoof on the rack, keeping me from taking one.

“Do you expect me to go naked?” I reached for a red dress.

Rarity held the dress back. “Your type is not welcome there.”

“My type? At least I don’t slash my own leg open, you freak!”

Rarity let go, and a dozen dresses spilled to the floor.

I glared at her. “You’re more messed-up than I am.”

Rarity looked away, silent.

“You’re…” The look of utter defeat on my sister’s face made me pause.

Rarity turned to the door. “I’m late.”

I watched her walk away, guilt welling inside me. I let out a half-sigh, caught up with her, and put a hoof on her shoulder. “Rarity…”

Rarity jerked her shoulder away and glared at me. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that I don’t want you here? You’re poison, Sweetie Belle. You’ve broken the hearts of everyone who’s ever loved you and you don’t even see it.” She looked away. “I can’t deal with you, not again.” She walked out of the wardrobe. “Go back where you came from. There’s nothing for you here.”

I stood still for a moment, too stunned to speak. I followed her out of the wardrobe just as she opened a door to the garden across the kitchen. “But what about my—”

Rarity closed the door behind her, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I screamed and knocked the tea tray to the floor. The clock on the wall ticked through my fast breathing. Nine thirty-four. I only had until midnight to get the money.

I glared at the door Rarity had just walked through. Did she really think she could just walk away and have me disappear without a fight? I went back inside the wardrobe, dug through the dresses on the floor, and lifted up the one belonging to our mother—a simple, white dress with gold lace. Not particularly fancy, but it meant something.

I stepped up to the three mirrors and slid the dress on. The white silk clung tightly to my body, but it fit well enough. I would go to Rarity’s party whether she wanted me to or not, and I’d burn the place to the ground if that’s what it took to get what was mine.

* * *

Dusk had blackened to night by the time the road curved into the town square. The vast space didn’t look anything like I remembered. Gone were the old, wooden houses of mismatched shape, color, and size. Structures of brick and mortar now lined the edges of the square, and the dirt had been sealed away by cobbled stone.

But most jarring of all was the looming clock tower at the center of the square, standing in place of where the old town hall had once been. They had barely begun building it when I’d left five years ago. Now it looked old and weathered, as if it had stood there for decades.

I walked into the open space. Rarity had mentioned that the party was somewhere in the town square. My eyes fixed on a particular building at the far end.

Where the surrounding structures were gray stone, this one was white marble, standing half as tall as the great clock tower, with a red carpet running up its curving steps. Rarity couldn’t have made it more obvious where she’d be if she’d written her name on it.

The white fabric of mom’s dress clung to me as I moved among other ponies wandering the square. Most of them carried brightly colored umbrellas on their shoulders. I looked up. Dark clouds were moving in to choke the sky. Maybe a raincoat wasn’t such a bad idea.

My ears pricked up. There was music in the air, faint and distant, but it cut through the dull murmur with life and joy.

I looked around for the source of the music, but couldn’t see much through the mass of ponies moving in the square.

A lance of fire shot up into the air from the base of the clock tower, lighting up the whole square in a slow, orange pulse.

I stopped.

Three acrobats cartwheeled and juggled torches before a small crowd. Fire breathers. They used to perform once a season in Ponyville, and I’d always go watch them when I was a filly.

A street band sat behind them at the base of the clock tower, pounding drums, fiddling violins, and blowing into harmonicas—the kind of music you’d want to jump up on a table and dance to.

I smiled at the nostalgia, but continued on across the square toward the white building. I could come back and throw them a hoofful of bits once I got my money.

I approached the red carpet and took the steps two at a time until I reached the flat space before the entrance.

A stallion in a red suit stood next to the open archway leading into the building, smiling as I approached. “Good evening, miss.”

“Hey.” I moved to walk past him.

The stallion stepped between me and the entrance, all smiles. “May I see your invitation, miss?”

“I don’t need an invitation.” I tried to walk past him again.

He put a hoof on my chest. “I’m afraid I must insist.”

I pushed his hoof away. “And I’m afraid your face needs to be somewhere else.”

“If you do not have an invitation,” he said, keeping his smile, “the common ceremony will be held in the town hall.”

“Do I look like I’m going to some common party? Rarity’s in there, right? She’ll tell you to let me in.”

His inhale suggested irritation, but he spoke calmly. “With all due respect, if Miss Rarity wanted you here, she would have extended you an invitation.”

“Go ask her, then! I’m her sister.”

His smile fell to a frown. “Miss Rarity does not have a sister.”

My heart sank. Had I really been gone that long? Rarity was one of the most famous figures in Equestria. Surely she hadn’t pretended I didn’t exist during her ascent to wealth and fame, had she?

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the doorpony said. “Now, please.”

“Fine.” I turned back toward the steps. “Have it your way, then.” I took a breath, pretended to start walking away, then spun back around and bolted past him.

The doorpony gasped. The side of mom’s dress scratched against his uniform. I stumbled inside and found myself in a well-lit room with walls of veined marble. Ahead of me, an archway opened up to a corridor lined with oil lanterns that grew narrower and narrower until they disappeared into a blur of light.

A mare sat at a desk by the entrance to the corridor. She looked up from some papers, round glasses glinting with the glow of oil lamps. She smiled at me and opened her mouth as if to speak.

“Stop!” the doorpony yelled behind me.

I ran for an open door to the right, hearing the stallion's hooves thunder behind me.

The marble floor turned to carpet in a wood-paneled hallway. Another stallion in the same red uniform appeared around a corner, wincing when I darted past him.

A soft crash sounded behind me. I risked a glance back as I rushed down the corridor. The doorpony had run into the other stallion, both of them sprawling on the floor, cursing and snapping at each other.

I grinned, cut a corner, ducked through an ajar door into a dim room, and barged through another into a different hallway. A rich scent filled the air. Warm food. Sounds of chopping, hissing, and occasional shouting drifted through a red door.

A red figure appeared around a corner farther down the hallway. The doorpony’s expression darkened.

I barged through the red door.

Beyond was the biggest kitchen I had ever seen. Ceiling lights glared, bowls and plates clanked and rattled, and ponies in white shouted and cursed at each other as they worked. A nearby chef was cutting onions so recklessly you’d think he wanted to make the whole kitchen cry.

I hid behind a stove, watching the doorpony storm through the kitchen and disappear through another door.

“Miss?” a chef asked, apron stained orange and brown. “You don’t want that pretty dress getting stains in here.”

“Right,” I said, standing up from behind the stove.

“Are you lost?” the chef asked.

“No, no,” I said. “I was just… Where can I find Rarity?”

“The grand hall.” The chef pointed at one of the doors, a different one than my pursuer had gone through. “Through there. Follow the light.”

“Thanks.” I moved through the tight-packed kitchen, weaving between shouting cooks, stacks of plates, and sizzling pans. The door was all steel, and it took some effort to push it open enough for me to peek around the corner.

A wide marble corridor stretched out left and right. Oil lamps shone from both sides of the walls. A short distance to the left, I could see the room I’d first entered through. To my right, the hallway stretched on into a bright light.

I waited another moment to make sure the hallway was empty, then stepped out and walked toward the bright light.

There were paintings on the corridor’s right wall, just like in Rarity’s house. These were bigger, grander, with golden frames—not the simple stuff you’d find at our parents’ house. One was of a sun hiding behind clouds, another of a masked stallion, the next of a theater performer on a stage showered in flowers.

There were many more, all on the wall to my right, stretching on and on. Why didn’t they hang any paintings on the left wall? Seemed like a waste of space to leave half the corridor bare. Maybe it meant something, but it hardly mattered.

I had more important things to worry about, like how I was supposed to convince Rarity to give me the money, or in what gruesome way Chuck-Chuck would kill me if I couldn’t.

One way or another, I had to get that money.

The light at the end swallowed me. I squinted, head pounding at the brightness. My eyes slowly adjusted, and what I saw made my jaw drop.

I stood at the end of a majestic hall of glittering marble. Banners hung between stained glass windows, silverware glinted on tables, and marble pillars, thick as tree trunks, lined the walls. Above it all, five enormous chandeliers burned bright as suns from a dizzyingly high ceiling.

A scattered horde of red-uniformed staff moved about in the hall, carrying plates and cutlery, setting tablecloth and arranging chairs. Four staircases, one tucked in each corner, led up to a gallery overlooking the hall.

The wealth of it all made my blood boil. Had she been living like this while I barely scraped by in the city? She had built her fortune with my money. Half of what she owned should be mine, yet here I was, having to beg for scraps to save my life.

Looked like the party hadn’t started, and the guests had yet to arrive.

My eyes scanned the hall, glancing over servants buzzing about, searching… And there she was, the mare in the dark-blue dress, standing in a group of half a dozen equally overdressed ponies.

My headache rose as I glared at her. I took a breath, stifling the urge to shout profanity at her from across the hall, and walked toward her.

A red-uniformed mare cut across my path, levitating a stack of gold-trimmed plates. She saw me and stepped aside, but not in time. I bumped into her, not hard, but it was enough.

The mare grimaced as the stack of plates wobbled and tilted in the air. Her horn glowed brighter, and the stack of plates stabilized with one teetering on the edge.

I smiled when I heard the plate crash to the floor behind me.

The ponies standing around Rarity turned their heads to me as I approached, and my sister’s expression turned from smile to confusion to utter horror.

Comments

[Ice Star]

This is the only metaphor to describe your story. What have you wrought OnionPie?