Chapter Six: The Truth
By Thanqol
At this point in my narrative, the reader is surely forming an uncharitable opinion of me. Here we have, you surely say, a brash young Pegasus who has served alongside Griffons and Hippogryphs, who has caused thunderstorms over Zebrica, who has broken the sound barrier in her early days - who is, surely, the epitome of coolness. And yet, you proceed with your observations, here she is indulging in the most girlish and dweebish behaviour imaginable alongside a girlish dweeb by the name of Rarity. Surely there is a contradiction, you observe, and begin to doubt if my 'cool' credentials were ever genuine.
To a degree, I must concede the point, but I remind the reader to keep in mind the circumstances. I had spent many weeks with Rarity by this point with only the most minor concessions to her ways, which I assure you is no easy feat. Secondly, the old injury to my wing kept me from entertaining my regular hobbies. Thirdly, the sheer adrenaline of the chase and the drive to apprehend this vile trickster made a concession to fashion more palatable than I would have been. Finally, I defy anypony who would judge me for caving in to Rarity without having been on the receiving end of her manipulations.
So, when I resume the narrative on the note of Rarity squeezing me into an extremely girly dress, I beg the reader not to think less of me.
Ahem.
"And now just a little bit of eyeliner to finish the effect," Rarity was saying.
Actually, I have decided it is for the best if I skip my narrative ahead just a little.
"There! What do you think?" Rarity said, turning the mirror around to face me.
For a moment, I thought she had showed me one of her posters or a particularly large piece of design art. It was many long moments before I realized the gleaming pegasus in that mirror was me. My mane had been straightened - at the cost of the lives of many brave combs - and tied back into a magnificent ponytail, and yet my fringe remained as rough and wild as if I had just been flying through a storm. I was wearing a necklace with amethyst grapes and a toga design of sky blue and rainbow fabric, fluffed with clouds near the edges. It was lighter than air, so light that it didn't seem to weigh me down or impair my movement or my wings, so light that I suspected more than a little magic in its construction.
I am not a pony who knows anything about fashion, this I confess freely. And yet, I thought that in that dress, in that moment, I looked good.
"Do you like it?" Rarity pressed, breaking me out of my reverie.
"I am... amazed," I confessed, "The last thing I looked remotely presentable in was my uniform."
"Oh! You absolutely must show me at some point!" Rarity said, looking delighted. As she spoke her own dress began to assemble itself around her with a glowing magical display. It would have been an impressive transformation sequence if she hadn't spent the entire time talking about military uniforms and the dressmakers who had both designed them and designed dresses based off military designs.
"Indeed, Rarity," I said, "But we must hurry; the show starts soon!"
"Oh, of course!" said she, looking as if she was about to gallop for the door but remembering her dress and exiting in a stately walk. We hailed a carriage and were transported swiftly towards the Guggenhorse Museum. As usual, Rarity continued to ramble, but my thoughts were elsewhere.
"And you're sure the criminal will make her appearance here?" I interrupted a, no doubt fascinating, lecture about Sky Pirate influences on pre-modern designs.
"Oh, why yes. She has been spooked, and twice, and if there's one common thread in pony nature it's that when a pony is spooked they make poor decisions." Rarity said, "She will be here tonight. I will know her when I see her."
"How can you be so confident?" I said, "I mean, I have nothing but respect for your skills, but how do you know for sure?"
Rarity gave a small smile, but she said nothing.
We arrived, and began to walk towards the gate of the museum. Ponies lining the red carpet turned their heads to stare at Rarity. I didn't presume to think that any of them would be looking at me; I was clearly a simple soldier, no matter what I was dressed in. The doorpony didn't dare ask the name of Rarity and unhooked the line to let her in. We strode into the huge circular chamber. Immediately, my eyes went to Hoity Toity, who was sitting on the top floor, gazing down on the dancing ponies below him, eyes unreadable behind his reflective violet glasses.
There was music in the air, lively and classical, and ponies were dancing, talking, or admiring the paintings. There were a lot of ponies, but the room was huge, giving plenty of space to move about. I scanned each of the four floors in turn, looking for anypony who looked suspicious.
Rarity stepped forwards, flicked her mane, and her horn started to glow. "After me, my dear Rainbow Dash," said she with a smile, and I knew then that she had the scent of the criminal's gemstone.
Making our way through the party was like navigating the lines of a terrible thunderstorm, and only Rarity knew how to fly. Just as we neared the stairs she raised a hoof to stop me and whispered, "No, there is Consul and he is an insufferable boor; we shall be drawn into an endless conversation if we pass by him. We must go around,"
And so we turned and made a circuitous route to the second staircase. Rarity was still following the direction of her horn, but constantly adjust it to avoid those who would draw her into conversation. Just as we reached the top of the first set of stairs Rarity raised a hoof to her lips and pointed across to the other side of the hall.
The old mare in the cloak was standing there. Looking right at us. Then she began to move at a hurried pace up the stairs.
I spread my wings to lunge after her, but Rarity bit my tail and pulled me back. "No, Dash!" she said, "The security pegasai will stop you, and it'll take too long to explain to them! This way!"
Grudgingly, I started to follow Rarity. She was going slowly, far too slowly for my sanity, but I reminded myself of what it was like to be a young filly following a teacher's lead on how to navigate a hurricane, for that was the most apt metaphor for the situation. I smiled as Rarity gave a friendly greeting to a pair of unicorns as she passed them, I nodded politely as we got held up by a talkative old gentlecolt until Rarity was able to extract us by flowing into another conversation. Every time I worried about wasting time I glanced across the hall and saw the old mare trapped in a conversation with some dullard, and my spirits were lifted. We were overtaking her!
This dance of conversations, excuses and departures continued until we reached the top floor, and walked sedately towards Hoity Toity, who was surrounded by security. Evidently he was wise enough to take extra protection after the attacks on his peers. This was my first good look at Hoity Toity, even though I had known of him before I had met Rarity.
They said that he was found at the bottom of the ocean in a fridge, and the first thing he did upon being released was criticise the fisherman's hat. They said that once every ten years he ate a single mouthful of grass to calibrate his criticism appropriately. They called him the Incorruptible, the Classiest, the Stig - all anypony knew for certain was that he went by the name "Hoity Toity".
"Mr. Hoity Toity," Rarity said, and I heard she was slightly out of breath - she was intimidated by this stallion, I realised.
And so was I. There was no telling what was going on behind that mirrored gaze.
In the panic of the moment, I blurted out my warning before he had a chance to address us. "Mr. Toity, I believe somepony is going to attack you tonight."
"I see. Most ponies settle for attacking my senses," Hoity Toity said, glancing down at the ballroom, "I suppose it was a matter of time before they progressed to attacking my person -"
At that moment, the old mare burst up the final set of stairs. I cried, "That's her!" And lunged, throwing my wings open and flying for a high speed tackle. There was an impact as I hit her, and we tumbled head-over-hooves into the wall.
And I heard a terrible ripping sound.
I outright stopped breathing. In that moment, I didn't care about the criminal. I just cared about discovering where I had damaged Rarity's beautiful dress. This, as it turns out, was a terrible mistake.
I was lifted into the air and cast aside. I managed to grab a mouthful of the old mare's cloak as I went, and there was another long rip as I tore it off with me. All throughout the hall there was a gasp.
The criminal, the poisoner, the evildoer - I knew her face. I had seen it in Rarity's picture.
"Twilight Sparkle!"
She shook off the disguise and the illusion that had cloaked her purple fur and revealed her true face; a brilliant purple unicorn, horn crackling with magic, and dressed in - in -
I apologise, even today I find myself struggling to write down details of Twilight's dress. I am not, as I have stated to the point of parody, a fashion pony but this was...
It looked like she was dressed in a tablecloth. The fabric was so thin and limp it rippled and creased as she moved. It was emblazoned with stars, suns, moons and planets in a garish over-designed pattern. She was wearing a headdress with four antennae-like stars upon it. And for some reason, the purple and black of the dress was matched with teal bows on her chest and tail. There was no co-ordination, none whatsoever.
And she wore a golden tiara - the one nice thing in her outfit - with a bright pink star gemstone set atop it.
And what made it worse, infinitely worse, was the knowledge that Rarity had designed this monster.
After getting over their initial shock, Hoity Toity's security attacked Twilight. And I had seen unicorns in the throes of magic before, but I had never seen anything like this. She jinxed every single one with an original and creative hex, turning one into a pot plant, giving another an outlandishly sized head, and summoning a swarm of small winged fly-like creatures to carry the third out the window. This hardly seemed to slow her down, and she smiled menacingly as she produced a bouquet of blue flowers from behind her. Her eyes were glowing with incandescent white light.
For my part, I was pinned under a pile of glowing purple magical rocks, unable to struggle free, and I could only watch the Unicorn's rampage.
Hoity Toity didn't so much twitch an eye muscle. "My only regret," he said, looking his end in the eyes, "is that I am to be done in by one dressed so utterly hideously."
"YOU!" Twilight shouted, rage lifting her into the air on wings of violet magic, raising the flowers as if she was about to strike him with them. Hoity Toity gazed on impassively.
"STOP!" Shouted Rarity, jumping between the two.
The glowing purple Unicorn stopped in mid blow. Confusion crossed her features. "Stop?"
"You can't do this!" Rarity shouted.
"Did you HEAR what he said?" Twilight said, voice raising and thunder rolling behind her, "He called your dress ugly! They ALL called your dress ugly!"
"AND THEY WERE RIGHT!" Rarity shouted back.
That stopped the purple unicorn in her tracks.
"I'm just standing up for you -" she started, but Rarity, burning with anger, stepped up to her. She seemed so small against the crackling purple mage, but she didn't let so much as a flicker of fear cross her face.
"They all told the truth. They all gave their opinions honestly. And I needed that! Without ponies to tell me when I'm on the wrong track, how will I learn to do better?"
"But you worked so hard!" Twilight cried.
"No matter how hard I work, I can't force anypony to like something they don't like," Rarity said, "And I can't go around attacking them just because they don't like what I like."
Twilight fell into a stunned silence, and Rarity continued.
"It's good you wanted to stand up for me, Twilight, but only if you're protecting me from liars or haters. If somepony has an opinion that's different from yours, you have to understand and accept that and take it on board, and not just assume that they're wrong. And different opinions and genuine criticism help us do better next time. The worst thing you can EVER do to an artist is to tell them they're doing fine when they're screwing up."
The light went out behind Twilight's eyes, and she slowly fell to the floor. Her magic began to undo itself - the pot plant returned to a pony, the inflated head shrunk down with the sound of air being let out of a balloon, and the swarm of insects returned the kidnapped pony and left with a "Sorry for wasting your time, sir." The rocks pinning me also dissipated into thin air.
Twilight was beginning to tear up. "I'm so sorry, Rarity -"
"Don't tell me you're sorry," Rarity said, "Give me your honest opinion."
Twilight stopped in place. She shuffled a little, and eventually said, slowly, "Teal and purple?"
Rarity threw back her head and laughed, loud and melodic, no trace of that anger on her face, "I don't know what I was thinking!"
After a moment, Twilight began laughing as well. I joined in, and shortly thereafter Hoity Toity let out a low chuckle. On his cue, everypony started laughing - an honest, genuine, friendly laughter.
The next day, I was drinking my coffee, and Rarity was working on repairing my dress. I had apologised profusely but she hardly seemed bothered by the damage - indeed, claiming to enjoy the challenge of fixing it.
"Rarity, you must explain your approach to this case to me," I said, as I took a drink.
"Oh, I would be delighted. After we catch the real criminal, of course," said she, as cool as one pleased.
I spit out my drink.