//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 // Story: Only One Speck of Dust // by TheMareWhoSaysNi //------------------------------// Each time it happened, her body was like taken over by convulsions. She could not control them; the way she could not control all the overwhelming sensations. The heatwave, the sweat, her heart racing. She bit her lower lip and frowned. This time was harder than the last. She arched her back under the pressure. It was almost too much. Almost painful. She wanted to grab something, anything. But there was nothing solid enough around her, except sheets, and she could not move, not with what was going on. Suddenly, it all stopped. As swift as it had begun. Panting, she let herself fall against the mattress, her both fore hooves stretched in front of her. Spitfire felt Knight Shelter stroking her damp mane. He had been watching her all along, while her Acuteness Gift showed, not daring to ask whether he could see with her or not, because the intensity of the vision seemed extreme. It was always an awe-inspiring performance. At the most ill-chosen moments, her pupils dilated, she froze and seemed to be disconnected from the rest of the world, floating in a parallel dimension. Sometimes, she would take his hoof or stroke one of his wings in order to connect him to her, sometimes he was the one taking the initiative. It was possible only because of their bond of love. Without it, Knight would had been able to see nothing and to share nothing neither. When she finally turned around, black circles were hanging around her eyes. Whatever was the vision she had just experienced, it had drained out the least of her strengths, so well that she could not even be standing on all fours. Knight ran a hoof on his wife’s cheek and put some horsehair strands stuck against her coat behind her ears. “I don’t know what it was about, this time… But whatever it was, it looked violent. Sexy yet violent.” Spitfire did not even point out his attempt at being funny. Her husky voice lost some of its character when she was worn out, and what she had seen was undoubtedly in the “oppressive” category. “I would rather not see, Knight… Ponies are going to die. Lots of ponies. Too many ponies, it’s too much. Even for me.” He knew it. In fact, no one ignored it in Ponyville and even, sometimes, in other cities of Equestria. To shed blood never been a problem for her. As a former Member of the Head’s Council, she had had her share of dead and wounded. Each time the Sacred Law had to be applied she had been the one they called. It was said she had a gift for clean and surgical executions. If this vision disturbed her, it was not because of death at each corner, it was not because of the blood or because of how many ponies would succumb under the blades. It was because her Acuteness Gift allowed a door on the future that none could elude. What she saw could not be undone, no matter the chosen method. The dead ones she had seen in the course of the pictures were not any dead ones. She knew some of them very well. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where could she be? The back alleys all were too dark for her to see anything. If that really was a trap, she would not be in the central roads, where the patrons from saloons, cabarets and so-called Company Houses would all see her. It had to be in a secluded spot, away from prying eyes. Rainbow Dash suddenly had a doubt. Maybe a Spotter had called Applejack in order to make her do a task she was the only one able to do. If there were a dead pony already, she could have to preside as Master of Rituals, though she was not the only one available at night. Well, if that was true, why did she not see her? The gruesome feelings she had a little earlier had not left her. The more she flew looking for her best friend; the heavier the weight in her stomach was. Not tonight. Not after she had to break Double Diamond’s neck. She would never recover. Her grief had been years long to heal, it was too soon. Another dearest pony could not be snatched away from her again. Applejack was more than her best friend; she was the sister she never had. Younger, they had been in competition, most often for the sake of a good laugh or for the challenge. These little stupid contests had solidified their complicity. On a full moon night, near a temple dedicated to the Spider God, like the tradition said, they had taken an oath to be recognized as sisters in the eyes of the deity. Sisters bounded by blood. Applejack was her family. As sure as if they had been bore by the same belly. They were almost born on the same day, after all. The gap between them was so small. She did not see. She did not see because it was out of her field of vision, only focused on the search of the orange-coated mare with a golden mane. Hidden behind the snowy foliage, under the flakes falling and gathering on the tiny branches. She felt before she understood. The keen shot buffeting her flesh, right under her Cutie Mark. So intense she lost her balance in the air and crushed against an abandoned house’s roof. Her head collided with the tiles before she could even protect herself, and the hit added to the giddiness caused by her other wound made her pass out. Before she could even realize anything, her body fell and crashed against the concrete floor, in a greyish smoke of dust. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Applejack looked up. A sound had just occurred… Like a thousand glasses shattering. Or maybe not glasses, maybe something more like marble slabs. Something of this kind. Yet the sky looked empty. She had been waiting, for minutes on end, that Mint Diamond appeared but she never did. There supposedly was a dead pony that another pony with bad intentions had abandoned, waiting for her to perform the Sacred Procedures. Without these Procedures, the deceased’s family would never be able to celebrate his Renunciation in dignity. However, when she had arrived, she had found no corpse and no Mint Diamond. Maybe that the cadaver was somewhere else. Maybe she had been looking for help, unable to bring it here alone. Yet she would have warned her in this case, even would have asked her to meet her there. It smelled rather bad and with that strange sound, the doubt remaining in Applejack had vanished away. She had been fooled. She had to leave this place, to meet the others as soon as possible, to tell them to beware. Her hooves rushed forward at full tilt. Suddenly, her thoughts came back to Double Diamond, to his mutilated flesh between her hooves, this whistling breathe, knowing there was life in this unconscious dead-still body. And then, nothing left. She did not want it to happen to her friends, her soul family. To the pony she loved. What if after it, one lashed out at her mother, her little sister? She would run breathlessly if necessary yet she would never let such things happen. The snowflakes that sometimes fell on the tip of her muzzle or hung at her eyelashes would not make her turn back. Nothing would make her turn back. At least, that was what she thought, until in the course of some narrow street, her road got blocked by a mare unicorn. Applejack braked, and a lump of snow piled up at her hooves in boots. Her hat slipped off her mane before it fell on the soft snow with a “poof” sound. The unicorn in question, she was sure she already had seen her before. Her coat matching the snow falling from the skies, her gorgeous royal purple mane, styled with silky curls. She did not wear a plain cloak to protect her from the cold but a real-velvet coat matching her fur. It was the kind of mare who, usually, never dawdled in such places. The mares of her class stayed at the Great Weaver and only befriended ponies from wealthy families. Whatever it was she was doing here, it did not matter to Applejack. She had other things to do. Friends to meet. Unless… No, it could not be. Mares like her never fought. Under cover in beautiful houses, in pretty and vast bedrooms with flowered tapestries, they improved their education with Knowledge Tutors. Harp, seam, dance and frivolous discussions were their daily life and the quest of a good match to marry was their biggest source of conflict. Mares like her could not have interest into something like fighting. They did not give a care about armies, The Militia or revenge. They would faint in front of a show such as the one of the day before. Yet here she was in front of her. With her mane graciously moving at each of her steps. She trotted toward her, then stopped inches away. She had no wings so in no way could she avoid her. All the more so as, if she really had something against her, she could reappear in front of her with a single magic trick. Somehow, she would have to fight with her. Applejack positioned herself, all four hooves firmly planted inside the snow, ready to charge. “Clear off ma way or Ah flip ya like a pancake in a frying pan!” “Well, this is a fairly refined manner of speaking”, the unicorn said in a very posh way. “Clear off Ah said.” “It is not nice at all to send me back the way you do. First and foremost because I am here especially for you… Applejack.” The latter could not help but opening her eyes wide from surprise. She knew her name… Of course, a lot of ponies knew her name yet since pictures were rather uncommon, most of them ignored what the Angel of Mercy really looked like. If this unicorn knew who she was and said she was here for her, then she no longer had doubts. Whoever she was, she was not just some lost lady. She had to be a part of this mysterious group which none of the Council’s Members had ever heard about. The Unavowed Army. “In fact, I neglected my duties… I am Rarity. The most devoted Servant of the True King, His Highness Blueblood.” Once again, Applejack opened her eyes wide. Prince Blueblood? The Fallen Heir Apparent? It was impossible. He had been banished forever to the place no pony came back from, where it was told the legendary Crystal Empire had been buried. “I can see you are surprised. This is nothing new. You earth ponies are highly uncouth characters”, she said patting one of her curls. “Obviously lacking foresight. But it does not matter…” Rarity elegantly span around, her velvet coat doing the same with grace. Her Cutie Mark – three azure gems – was embroidered on her flank. Sure, the Spider God had an odd sense of humor when it came to assigning Cutie Marks. Herself had three red apples celebrating her strength during the harvestings. Said harvestings which, in the North Shore, only happened during spring, which meant something like three months in a year. And this uptight lady who apparently pretended being able to fight had inherited gems. Once she was done with her little magical trick, the unicorn appeared with what looked like her Cutie Mark between her teeth yet were in fact mini triangular razor blades. She spat it out elegantly and it planted right into the pile of snow at Applejack’s hooves. Immediately, her face toughened. Jaws tight, frowning, some kind of white smoke escaped from her nostrils. As if mimicking some deformed version of Rarity, Applejack spat on the ground and displayed a quick half-smile seeing the unicorn smirking from disgust. “You really are nauseating; do you know that? I am still not surprised, in some kind of way. All it takes is a look at how you do your mane, and this… awful cloak. I wonder who did such shambolic embroideries.” “Hey, don’t ya dare insulting ma mother!” “Darling, I would have adored talking fashion with you since there is nothing that I like more in all Equestria, but I am waiting on in a fabulous party and I am terribly afraid I would be late, so I offer you to get this over with as soon as possible. What is your opinion?” As soon as she was done speaking, a set of mini-blades like the one she had spit in the snow earlier popped out of Rarity’s elegant mane. So this really was her weapon of choice? Cute. It would never stand long in front of the big guns… except if she used her magic to disappear and reappear as she liked, of course. Wound up by the indirect offense done to Melrose, Applejack lifted her cloak with her teeth, giving a glimpse of what she used to knock down her enemies. She grabbed her Lasso and unfolded it at Rarity’s hooves. The rope shone from a particular gleam, unusual for this kind of tools. In fact, it was not any kind of lasso. Thicker, stronger, it also was a redoubtable weapon, enchanted never to miss its target. Incidentally, it immediately coiled such as an enormous snake around Rarity’s real-leather pair of boots. She gasped in surprise. “Let’s make a deal, Princess. Ya don’t use yar magic… Ah won’t use dat. What dya think ‘bout it?” “Alright, no magic, Hillbilly”, she answered under her breath, upset that the item had touched her favorite boots. “Imma goin’ to love messing up yar pretty mane.” “Oh, really? Well, it is on.”