//------------------------------// // Part III - Chapter 6: Coming Clean // Story: Alicornae: The Legend of Starlit Sky // by PortalJumper //------------------------------// Alicornae: The Legend of Starlit Sky Part III - Chapter 6: Coming Clean * * * "I'm not done with you yet, Setting Sun," a distant voice spoke. It sounded like a half-remembered dream, but to Sun it may as well have been a bell ringing with his head inside of it. Everything hurt, from his hooves up to his ears. Half of his skin felt like thick putty hanging off of his muscles and what little he could see from the wagon was half-red from the exploded blood vessels in his left eye. Every jostle of the cart he was in sent a fresh wave of pain through his body, but each wave felt less and less painful the longer he traveled. "You just had to go and blow yourself up, didn't you?" the voice admonished, this time more clearly. "When I said you were worth observing I didn't mean like a blood sport." "Quiet… please…" Sun croaked at the voice. "Oh no you don't, you're not getting out of this that easily," the voice said. "Try not to pass out again, this one's going to sting." A sharp, searing pain erupted from Sun's left eye, hard enough that a scream managed to tear itself from his mangled throat. When the pain ebbed away he found that the half-red effect on his vision was gone, and he got one good look at his surroundings before he slipped back into unconsciousness. He was in the city again, with buildings flying past him. It was sometime past midday, and when he craned his neck forward he saw Rarity. Sweat ran down her head and neck in rivulets large enough to see clearly from his position a few feet away, and her once neatly done mane hung in limp, purple curls. If she was tired he couldn't tell it. A tiny smile cracked through the wounds on his face as he fell back into the black. * * * Rarity blew hard against her hair, trying to get it out of her eyes so she could see the increasingly narrow and winding streets. Her eyes stung with sweat and her hooves and legs had long since fallen numb from exertion, so the last thing she needed was another distraction. Carefully she scanned the numerous side streets and alleys, trying to parse out the one she was looking for. A distinct set of pipes, layered two brass with one steel between them, and a smooth spot worn into the road finally tipped her off. It was too small for the wagon, so she'd have to carry Sun the rest of the way herself. Making sure that nopony was watching her too closely Rarity lifted Sun out of the bloodstained wagon and onto her back. She'd already heard Sun scream from something once, and she didn't need the machines coming down on her for carrying a near-dead stallion on her back like a common grave robber. A familiar door awaited her after taking another right turn at the end of the alley, one painted with a red cross and dotted with a few splotches of blood. Fearing that her legs were going to fall out from under her she cantered to the door and rapped on the rough wood. "Who is it?" a female voice called. "Do you have an appointment?" "Redheart, It's Rarity, open up! It's an emergency!" Rarity called back. A frantic shuffling of hooves was soon followed by the door swinging open to reveal an earth pony nearly as white as her and with a pale pink mane. "Good grief, what happened to you?" Redheart asked. "You look terrible." "It's not me that needs help," Rarity replied as she shoved past. "Get a bed ready, and some burn supplies." Redheart's abode wasn't nearly to the level of Rarity's morgue when it came to medical preparedness, but Redheart was fair and not above taking on a seemingly hopeless case. It was her that had saved Rarity's father after his accident as well as helping Sweetie Belle with any number of childhood illnesses. Rarity swept off a table in Redheart's living room, scattering a few books and bits of junk to the floor while Redheart went upstairs to get some things. She then took Sun's mangled body and laid it out on top, injury side up. Her stomach still turned to look at him, but the wounds looked less gruesome than in the mine. A shriek followed by a clatter of metal drew Rarity's attention to the foot of the stairs and to Redheart. She had a hoof over her mouth and a tray with bandages and a jar of some poultice lay scattered at her hooves. "He was worse earlier, if you can believe it," Rarity said as she beckoned Redheart to the table. "What happened to him?" Redheart asked, shock and fear in every word. "He got caught in a light-gas explosion," Rarity answered tactfully. "He was putting a near dead thestral down when something caused it to combust." "A light-gas explosion?" Redheart retorted. "He should be dead already, especially if it came from a thestral; those things go up like oily rags. Do you know if he used magic on it?" "I think I heard him cast something, but I was too far away to stop him." "But not so far away that you didn't get hit with some of the debris," Redheart replied, pointing out a few of Rarity's worse wounds. "We can argue this later," Rarity snapped back, "now we need to work. I thought he was dead for hours but he just started coming around about forty-five minutes ago." Redheart gave a curt nod and set to work, looking Sun over with the eye of a trained professional. Rarity gathered up everything that Redheart had brought down and dropped and set it on a stool next to her. "He's lucky, I'll give him that," Redheart assessed. "These burns are at worst deep second degree, and his face seems relatively intact save for a whole mess of blood. Scalp wounds tend to bleed a lot but aren't too bad in the long run, just messy to clean up." "What do you mean?" Rarity asked. "Part of his skull is caved in, isn't it?" "No, not from what I'm seeing," Redheart answered. "Maybe you were just seeing things?" Rarity moved Redheart out of the way, taking a good look at Sun's head. Sure enough the nurse was right; where she had seen the distinct dent in his head there was now just smooth skin without any sign of the fracture or the heavily bleeding cut that had sprung from it. "That's impossible, there's no way a broken skull healed that quickly," Rarity said in disbelief. "I know what I saw, and what I saw was a dead stallion with a dent you could balance an egg in in his head." Redheart looked back over Sun, palpating his mangled flesh and trying to find signs of what Rarity was talking about. She let out a sharp gasp and drew back at something she felt, and Rarity found herself startled as well. "What? What is it, what did you feel?" "Feel his chest, right around his lower ribs," Redheart said, putting Rarity's hoof onto Sun's chest. His skin felt thick, like firm clay. Rarity could feel his shallow breathing where there had once been none at all, and a rapid heartbeat that had once been silent. Then, as if it had been poised to strike, she felt a sharp crack and popping sound that caused her to let out a squeak of surprise. "You felt it too?" Redheart asked. "Quick, tell me what you feel now." Rarity gingerly laid her hoof back onto Sun's chest, and immediately she could feel a difference. The rib cage had been shattered on his left side in the blast, but she now felt a few of the ribs put back together in his chest. "I think I know where his skull fracture went," Redheart said. "I don't know how, but your friend's body is putting itself back together." Rarity stopped just short of telling Redheart off for her ludicrous assertion, but then remembered her first encounter with Starlit. The mare had taken a bolt of magic through the brain and woken back up a few hours later right as rain. "I need to go, I have a pony I need to talk to," Rarity said, stepping away from the table and heading for the door. Starlit would know what was happening, and there were other ways to get to where she and Pinkie were going in the mine. "Oh no, not on my watch," Redheart ordered. "You are in no fit state to go anywhere. Frankly I'm amazed you even made it here from… say, where were you when this happened?" "That's personal," Rarity answered sharply. "Redheart, you know I love and appreciate you for everything you do here, but I need to leave. I trust you can take care of Sun for me?" "Rarity, I am not letting you leave here," Redheart replied. "You're hurt and you're tired. Look at your hooves." Looking down, Rarity could see the bloodstains she had left on Redheart's floor, as well as the small puddle of blood forming up under her front hooves. Only looking at them was needed to start registering the pain of standing, and she quickly sat down to alleviate it. "You didn't even notice, did you?" Redheart asked pointedly. "Rarity, you're running on pure fight-or-flight right now, and if that falters for even a second you're going to fold like a cheap blanket. Would you rather that happens here where there's a soft bed and some bandages and disinfectant for you, or out in the street where you'll likely die of exhaustion if the machines don't take care of you first?" Looking over her bloodstained hooves, Rarity found the hard truth in her words, as much as she didn't want to. She could already feel parts of her mind growing sluggish, and her legs might as well have been made of lead for as heavy as they felt. "Your bedside manner is atrocious, do you know that?" Rarity asked facetiously. "So I've been told," Redheart answered. "C'mon, lets get you bandaged up and into bed. I'll watch your friend, do what I can for his skin and wait to see how his 'healing' goes." Rarity smiled weakly at Redheart, thankful to have something go right for once. She stood to follow Redheart upstairs but misjudged how quickly she got up. Her vision soon filled with fuzz, followed by a dull thumping sound as her unconscious body hit the floorboards. * * * Even in the blackness of unconsciousness Sun could feel things. He felt bones shift under his skin, muscles knit themselves back together, organs slide back into place, and every second of it was slow agony. If this was how Starlit had felt when she had died then it was a small miracle that she wasn't half mad by now. "Starting to think coherently now, are we?" Silence said snidely. "I guess that means I fixed your brain hemorrhaging and swelling properly. Do you remember your name?" "I'm… Setting Sun, right?" Sun replied. "Why did you say that like a question?" Silence asked back. "Do you know your name or not?" "My head… my body, everything hurts. Maybe I could be forgiven… for wanting some reassurance," Sun answered. Speaking through his mind was still easier than trying to speak through his mouth, but it felt like someone was rapping a stone on his skull with every word. "To be fair, you are pretty delirious, and the healing process isn't likely to help with that," Silence said. "The good news is that you're in a safe place so I can work faster and better to get you back in shape." Like a clap of thunder a thought crossed Sun's mind, fully formed and pressing on his mind like Silence did. A patch of regrowing skin and the pain thereof threatened to purge it from his mind, but he just barely managed to hang onto it long enough to ask. "Where are Starlit… and Pinkie Pie?" Sun asked desperately. "Safe, for now," Silence answered. "They're both still in the mine, but thankfully the roof hasn't collapsed on them yet. Even if it did, they're close enough to the palace's substructures that they would be safe even from a total tunnel collapse." A wave of relief spread through Sun like a warm blanket, momentarily dulling his pain. As long as Starlit was safe, he had done his work. "How long until… I'm better?" Sun asked. The sooner he was ambulatory, the better it would be. "Well, that depends on your pain threshold, doesn't it?" Silence answered with a dark tone. "If you want to be up and functional before the day's out, I could make that happen at the cost of it being the absolute worst hour of pain you've ever experienced or ever will experience." "You should… be a salespony… with a pitch like that," Sun replied grimly. "Do it." "Are you sure? It'll be blindingly painful," Silence asked. She sounded genuinely shocked for the first time that Sun could recall, though he was sure the smug satisfaction he felt would be short-lived. "I'm sure," Sun answered. The explosion had been one type of painful, the type that crashes over and consumes the body in hurt and brokenness. The pain Sun felt now was entirely different and far worse; it was the pain he knew he could've avoided if he had had more patience and more time. Shattered bones flew beneath his skin to their proper places, his muscles burned and scraped in their mad dash to fit together, and blood spewed from every inch of his marred flesh as it was sloughed off and agonizingly replaced. His entire left side burned with a million tiny pinpricks as nerves grew and experienced fresh pain for the first time, only magnifying his suffering. Sun lasted for all of a minute before slipping back into a dreadful slumber, one made tolerable only by the knowledge that when he awoke again it would be as a whole stallion. * * * While the bed Redheart had provided her was soft and reasonably comfortable, Rarity simply couldn't fall asleep despite two hours of staring at the ceiling. In her brain she knew that she desperately needed the sleep, but too many thoughts and concerns were swirling around in her mind to even court the notion. The wounds on her hooves kept niggling at her as well, though Redheart had done a remarkable job at bandaging and treating them. Gingerly Rarity rose from the bed and crept to Redheart's vanity, taking care not to open the wounds on her hooves. She sat down and grabbed up a hairbrush in her magic, getting to work on pulling the tangles and grime from her mane. As the brush methodically ran across her head Rarity found that some of her idle thoughts were being slowed by the process, giving her enough time to consider them. Rarity thought of Starlit and Pinkie Pie in the tunnel, confused and no doubt terrified Sun and her. She wondered if they'd tried to dig through the cave-in, but brushed it off as preposterous; Pinkie would never let Starlit do something that stupid and endangering. A weary smile crept across her face as she thought of the perennially cheerful Pinkie having to tell off as serious of a mare as Starlit. The fleeting feeling of happiness faded as Rarity's mind drifted to more serious matters. If Sun ever got up he would no doubt have questions about what caused the explosion, and those sorts of questions would lead to answers that would then lead to questions of a far more personal nature. So many questions, and Rarity would have no good answers to any of them. A soft knock on the bedroom door pulled Rarity out of her thoughts, and she put the brush down on the vanity. "Come in," she said. Redheart let herself in, her expression concerned and more than a bit fearful. "Your friend's awake," Redheart said, "and he wants to talk." Rarity's guts twisted into knots at Redheart's statement, but she stood up and started toward the door all the same. Her hooves stung with every step, but thankfully none of the wounds opened back up as she came down the stairs and into Redheart's living room. Sun was seated at the cleared off table, his head in his hooves and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He turned to face Rarity as she came into the room, and both sides of his face were whole. The burgundy fur on the left side looked bright and fresh compared to the dingy, soot-stained right side, but it was whole. "You look like you've been through the wringer," Sun said, "although I'd say you're a fair sight better than I was at the start of all of this." Rarity stared, at a complete loss for words. This stallion had been dead not five hours ago, and yet here he sat making small talk. The feeling was surreal, like she was walking through a dream. "You'd better get off of those hooves, they look pretty bad too," Sun continued. Rarity heeded his warning, if only because he was right. She sat at the table opposite him, taking in every inch of his face as she did. There wasn't a hair out of place, the blood on his body had all vanished, and even his bloodshot eye was shimmering green. Were it not for the scorches and blood on his cloak there would be no evidence at all of what he'd gone through. "Rarity, say something," Sun said. "I'm sorry," she blurted out before she could stop herself. "What for? If it weren't for you, I don't know if I'd have made it out of that mine." "Not for the mine, that wasn't what I meant," Rarity continued, looking down at her hooves. "I haven't been… completely honest with you, with Starlit." The pregnant silence told Rarity all the she needed to know; this was going to be a hard conversation to have. Sun's expression gave her one more bit of knowledge; he was reserving judgement. Given all that had happened between them, it was the best she could hope for. "Redheart, dear, could you give us the room?" Rarity asked, her eyes still firmly fixed on Sun. There was a soft clattering of hooves going up stairs followed by the creak and click of a door shutting. The walls were paper thin in Redheart's makeshift clinic, but the appearance of privacy was better than none at all. "Sun, I'm not completely the pony I said I was," Rarity confessed. "Or, at least, I'm more than what my station would belie." "Rarity, I have just had the worst day that anypony could possibly have, the last hour of which was particularly harrowing," Sun said. "I doubt there's anything you could tell me that would worsen this day for me. Just give it to me straight." Rarity took a shuddering breath to calm herself, fiddling with her bandages idly as she did. "Sun, a close friend of mine is on the Council, and that mine is still operable. I was the overseer of the project, but when I found out what she wanted to do with that mine I quit and was forced into the morgue as punishment. We were all in grave danger by going there, and Starlit and Pinkie Pie still are by virtue of being there." Sun's eyes widened at every sentence, and Rarity was worried that he was going to explode at her again. Minutes passed as Sun processed what she was saying, only for the silence to be broken by a simple question. "Why didn't you tell us?" "I wanted to Sun, truly I did," Rarity hastily answered, "but you've seen what it's like here. If I said one wrong thing to you or Starlit then the machines would be upon us all, and when they discovered Starlit's condition she'd likely be vivisected over and over until they figured out why she can't die. I figured that by keeping my guidance vague, I'd be doing her a service." "Well, we're in private now," Sun said, "so tell me; what is the Council planning to do with that mine?" "It's less the Council and more Starlight Glimmer specifically. There were several members of the Council that were opposed to her plan, damn opposed in fact, but she is… quite tenacious. She decided to take the matter into her own hooves." Rarity was suddenly acutely aware of just how small she was in regards to all of this. Her friend's delusions had given her an inflated sense of self-worth that had lasted long into her career as a mortician's assistant, one that was only now being popped by the reality of her friend's ambition. "Sun, she wants to bring the Night Mare back to life." * * * Pinkie Pie had spent a long while assembling a makeshift grappling hook that would allow Starlit and herself to climb up into the palace, and Starlit was fairly impressed with her efforts. Just a length of rope and a few metal tent stakes heated with light-gas and hammered around to form the hook was all it took make a sturdy grappling hook. "I must say Pinkie, you are quite handy with your hooves," Starlit said, patting her companion on the shoulder. "I know my way around a whetstone for my farming tools, but I've never really had the gumption to try and shape metal like this." "Oh, it's easy-peasy once you learn to keep away from the glowing parts," Pinkie replied. "Once it gets nice and hot all you really need is something sturdy to whack it against and it'll fold like clay." Pinkie finished fastening the hook apparatus to the rope and gave it a few test tugs to gauge its strength, even having herself and Starlit pull from opposite ends with all their strength. When Pinkie deemed it secure she beckoned Starlit over to the hole in the ceiling and tossed it up. The hook caught against the hole with a satisfying clink, and it held up under Pinkie's test pulls. "Alright, all aboard that's coming aboard!" Pinkie called cheerfully with an exaggerated bow. With a snicker Starlit lit her horn, muttering a holding spell that Twilight had taught her that would cement the hook in place as Pinkie climbed up. "Please, after you, I insist," Starlit replied, with an equally corny bow. "Why thank you, kind madam," Pinkie said, affecting a posh accent as she started up the rope. Starlit couldn't quite quiet the nagging uncertainty at the back of her mind, but Pinkie's joviality was a helpful distraction. It kept her focused on the task at hoof instead of drowning in worry and anxiety. Pinkie scaled the rope with relative ease. Despite having the force of gravity completely acting against her she climbed up the full seven feet in a matter of minutes, looking only slightly winded when she peered back down the hole. "I've got it from this end, so come on up!" Pinkie called down. "Also, try not to look down or your brain will go all woozy." Starlit gave the rope a quick test pull to make sure Pinkie had it, then wrapped her legs around and inch-wormed her way up. She had to use a bit more magic to keep her hooves from slipping, and she very nearly lost her saddlebags before Pinkie helped her over the lip of the hole. Starlit found that she was decidedly more winded than Pinkie. "See? Easy-peasy!" "Maybe for you and your spry muscles," Starlit retorted, "but some of us have carried a child and aren't exactly as fit as we once were." "Oh, excuses, excuses," Pinkie quipped back as she helped Starlit to her hooves. Starlit looked around and found that, much to her relief, she was not in a sewer. In fact, the hallway could conservatively be called opulent; the walls were that same dark blue, stone like material that she'd seen below, perfectly smooth to the touch, and every few feet or so a set of flameless lanterns glowed on each side of the hallway. What truly struck Starlit was the sheer height of the ceiling. It extended up so high that she couldn't make out where it ended. The dizzying height after so long spent underground and with the roof oppressively close felt like she'd walked outside to find the sky was gone. The hallway extended seemingly infinitely behind them, but a few feet ahead was a large door made of wood stained black, a black so deep and cloying it was like staring into a moonless, clouded over night. Being the only real direction they could take unless they wanted to wander aimlessly, Starlit motioned for Pinkie to follow her to the door. Starlit knew immediately that something was wrong. Her amulet began to pulse as she approached the door, growing faster and stronger with each passing foot. She quickly took it off and stashed it away in her bags as she lay a hoof on the door, half expecting to fall through its surface. Instead she found its wooden surface soft, smooth, and slightly warm to the touch. Motioning for Pinkie to stay behind her Starlit carefully opened the door. It made no sound as it moved, not even the slightest creak, save for a barely audible swishing sound. A few feet from the door were sounds of activity that had previously been inaudible, and she took a quick peek inside. The chamber was massive, more so than the hallway that had preceded it, and everywhere she looked were machine-ponies hard at work. Their chassis were a royal purple, and they were busy operating or setting up all manner of complex machinery. A mare with light pink fur and a purple mane streaked with teal was overseeing the machines, and there was something about the way she carried herself that Starlit found familiar. Finally Starlit's eye was drawn to what this flurry of activity was centered around; a massive, translucent crystal cocoon made of obsidian that hovered in mid-air. It's surface gleamed and glinted in the pale blue light of the lanterns as the machines attached all sorts of devices and wires to its surface. Deep within Starlit could parse out a shape, first indistinct but growing more clear as the crystal rotated. It was a pony, with fur as black as night and a mane that flowed like Celestia's and glittered like the night sky. She looked to be asleep or in a trance, but Starlit knew that she had found her quarry. Now the trick was getting her out. * * *