//------------------------------// // Chapter 27: Severed // Story: To Serve In Hell // by CoffeeMinion //------------------------------// Consciousness intruded into Rarity’s groggy reverie. As time stretched on, she began to remember bits and pieces from her run-in with the group of ponies who’d set upon her at the Archive. Considering the battle that had played out around her, as well as the presumed loss of poor Moondancer, it struck her as a pleasant surprise that she was still alive to feel anything at all. “W… Where am I?” Rarity croaked. She tried to raise a hoof to touch her mouth, but neither of her forelegs would move. A sensation of pain seemed to focus on those forelegs. Her head lolled down, and her stinging eyes regarded an elaborate combination of chains, shackles, and ropes that held her in place on a chair. She reached for her magic instinctively, but it was gone. She furrowed and raised her eyebrows, trying—eventually succeeding—at feeling another anti-magic ring clasped against the base of her horn. She continued tilting her head back, and squinted as she looked directly up into what appeared to be a single mage-light bulb in a fixture overhead. The surrounding room was black, though; the light revealed little save for Rarity herself and the bonds that held her. “Seneschal Rarity,” said a mare’s voice from somewhere, in tones that were strong and gruff. Rarity recognized it as belonging to the grey earth pony with green eyes who’d been present when she was taken. “I’m sorry about the precautions. Some couldn’t be avoided. Others… well, not everypony’s sure whose side you’re on.” Rarity grimaced. Beyond the discomfort and danger of her circumstances, she felt drained. It was more than simply from her attempted escape from the Archive, or from whatever specific means had been used to subdue her; about that, she had little recollection. It was a deeper weariness, and one that defied her ability to name. “I’m tired,” she said, mentally cursing her own simplistic speech. “I bet,” Gruff Voice said. “You came pretty close to fighting your way free of the gang that was moving in on the Archive. Not everypony who came out to get you was so lucky.” “I’m… sorry for your loss,” Rarity drawled. “But who are you, and why did you send ponies to capture me in the first place?” “Why don’t we start with what brought you to the Archive?” A shot of adrenaline rekindled Rarity’s awareness. She thought back on her evasion of the shadowy stallion, and her pursuit of Moondancer, which ultimately led to encountering him again. She cringed once more at the thought of her botched attempt to flee with Moondancer. But then her memory arrived at the strange spell that had changed her cutie mark, and at the Alicorn—no, the unicorn who had been the Alicorn—who cast it. “Before I answer, I wish to know more about the mare who changed my cutie mark.” “Yeah, she said you were pretty taken with her. If you want a chance to meet her again, your best bet’s opening up about your trip to the Archive.” “But what about the mark itself?” Gruff Voice sighed. “The spell is just a precaution. It keeps you from leaving a traceable teleport signature, and it keeps the Nightmare from finding you through your dreams by severing you from your talents.” Rarity’s brow knit. “What do you mean?” There was a pause before Gruff Voice answered: “I’m told that you used to be big into fashion a long time ago. Look at your clothing now. Tell me how it makes you feel.” Rarity shifted as much as she could in her chair, and examined what she could see of her uniform. The rips and streaks of grime upon it were evidence of all the struggles that had brought her to this place. But she felt that if the garment had been whole, it would’ve looked… okay. Neither fashionable nor abominable. She felt no emotional investment whatsoever. It was only as she dwelt within that feeling of indifference, probing it, that she began to realize that it masked another feeling. Something deeper. It was loss. And as she felt it in full, her vision blurred with tears. “Don’t worry, we can give you your cutie mark back,” Gruff Voice said from the darkness. “But first we have some questions.” “Oh Celestia!” Rarity sobbed heavily, thinking of the risks of saying that name only as an afterthought, and letting her breathing be subservient to the tears that wracked her barrel. She shook and groaned freely. The visions of her family meeting their ends returned to her as she cried, and they added fresh peals of misery to her lengthy expression of grief. “Do you want me to get her attention?” asked another voice from the darkness, this one higher—but also quite familiar. “No,” Gruff Voice answered. “Everypony faces this their own way. And weren’t you just supposed to be here to listen?” “Wait a moment,” Rarity said, sniffling. “You’re here as well, aren’t you? The… unicorn who cast this spell on me?” There was a pause. Rarity thought she heard quick whispering. “I’ve seen this kind of cutie mark before,” Rarity said, trying to press whatever tiny advantage she felt she’d established. “It looks no more natural now on myself than it did on… her. Tell me: did it have a similar effect on her? Removing… who she was?” The unicorn scoffed. “All right, yes, I’m here. But the Cutie Un-Marking spell doesn’t take away who you are. It just hides your special talent—” “Among its other effects,” Gruff Voice said. “But all that’s beside the point. Right now, we need answers.” Rarity swallowed hard. She felt a tremor of fear at the prospect of opening up about what she knew. She couldn’t be sure if these ponies were with the Resistance, or if they might be working for somepony else entirely. She didn’t have a sense of how she could play on her interrogators’ interests and emotions, except that there seemed to be some amount of personal tension between Gruff Voice and the Unseen Unicorn. And so she gradually settled on a course of action that only heightened her unease: twisting the truth to make a more convincing lie. “I think it’s possible to stop the Nightmare once and for all,” she said. Silence reigned. Rarity heard nothing for long moments but her own pulse and breathing. Eventually there was a creak of a pony shifting against the floor. “There are very few things that could do that,” Unseen Unicorn said. “Y… Yes.” Rarity said. “But I believe we have a good chance of obtaining one, and using it.” “Then why didn’t you come forward if you wanted to bring us information like that?” Unseen Unicorn asked. “Surely you could’ve just worked through Lord Rich—” Gruff Voice grunted with annoyance. “Whatever happened to ‘no names,’ Twilight?” Rarity swallowed again. “I might’ve chosen to come forward soon enough, but I couldn’t be sure who I was dealing with. In fact, I’m still not. You mention Lord Rich… but I can’t imagine he’d be happy seeing me in chains.” “It’s necessary,” Twilight said, her voice ringing with conviction. “I did a deep delve of the streets leading to the Archive, and I turned up indicators that you shadowed Moondancer’s path for a while. Who tipped you off to her?” The yellow mare’s name brought a painful memory of watching her beg to be rescued. “And how is Moondancer?” Rarity asked. “She wasn’t part of the mission parameters,” Twilight said. The ensuing moments were too cold; too quiet. “You didn’t leave us with a lot of options when you brought that gang down on the Archive. If you ask me… you’re a risk that’s not worth taking. But maybe you can prove me wrong, if you tell me what you’ve found that can stop the Nightmare.” Rarity flicked her tongue across her lips before saying: “No.” “Excuse me?” “I said no. I may wish to see you succeed in your opposition of the Mistress… but judging by your unwillingness to let your companion even try to rescue poor Moondancer, it seems that our common interest is in no way a guarantee of my own personal safety. I shan’t reveal what all I’ve learned until we’re on more equal footing.” A pause. “You should’ve let me get her, Twilight,” Gruff Voice said. “You know I could’ve.” “You of all ponies should know not to be too optimistic, considering what we might be up against,” Twilight said. “Lady Rarity, right now I only have your word that you want to help us, and vague but sensational hints about what you might know. I’m afraid you’ll need to offer me something more solid before I’ll be willing to trust you.” Rarity thought back on what the stallion had shared with her. A useful detail jumped out. “May I ask, then, how Special Agent Sweetie Drops’ convalescence is proceeding? I’m sure you’ve heard from Lord Rich that I helped bring her to safety from the fire that claimed her home.” Another pause, this one longer than the last. “How do you know that name?” Gruff Voice asked. Rarity suppressed a smile at putting her captors off balance. Her mind struggled to make leaps and connections quickly enough to sustain the momentum that was building. But then she thought of another loose end that had been nagging at her, and she decided to weave it in with the others: Lord Rich’s possible recognition of Sweetie Drops. “I picked it up during my time in Lord Rich’s home,” she said, trying hard to achieve a convincing balance of lies and truth. “I’m… not proud of using our personal relationship to further my own curiosity about the Resistance. But I do have occasion to visit him from time to time, and I have never been blind to the probable nature of his connections. There came a time when I… well, found myself in possession of some correspondence that I likely wasn’t meant to see.” “So you are a spy,” Twilight said. Rarity affected a light chuckle. “Not at all, darling; or perhaps an amateur at best. But while I’ve hesitated to commit myself to the Resistance, I’ve always found it quite admirable. I also think it remarkable that you’d seek to construct this… ‘Underground Sun,’ I believe it was called?” Twilight gasped. “I should like to see it someday,” Rarity continued. But her mind made another leap, and she decided to go all in: “Of course, you must know all about that, mustn’t you? After all, you must be the pair of specialists that the letter spoke about.” “Let me put her back under,” Twilight said hastily. “She knows way too much!” “Hold your horses,” Gruff Voice said. “Fact is, she did save Sweetie Drops. She didn’t have to do that, and I’m not the only pony who feels grateful that she did. So thank you, Seneschal Rarity; things like that go a long way around here.” “But did anypony else see the letter?” Twilight asked. “I… yes. Regrettably, it was sussed-out by the Overseer, and even the Nightmare herself had a chance to see it before it was destroyed.” “The Nightmare!” shouted Twilight. “Oh, that’s it; she’s betrayed us all!” “That’s why you’re in Canterlot, isn’t it?” asked Gruff Voice. “She sent you to find us. But you didn’t stick around and press Lord Rich for what he knew… you moved on, toward the Archive. Why?” Rarity hesitated. The awful vision that she’d seen at Filthy’s home returned to her once more, and threatened to disrupt her ability to spin another lie. “I… couldn’t risk staying; it would’ve brought the Overseer’s attention down on Lord Rich if I’d been seen in his midst. And where Sassy has been off chasing Celestia-knows-what sort of featherbrained lead, I’ve been using this chance to seek confirmation of what I’ve learned, as well as trying to fill in the gaps of what I suspect. For instance, of Sweetie Drops’ place in the Resistance, and a few remaining details of how I believe we can put an end to the Nightmare.” “And there it is again,” Twilight said. “I think you know that’s a good way to get our attention, but the question is whether you can back it up with anything useful. Because we’ve had our eyes on you for a long time, Seneschal; you chose to go to work for the Nightmare, and you’ve aided her, and she’s richly compensated you for your trouble. Couple that with the nature of some… recent complications… where you just happen to have turned up nearby? It’s gonna take a lot to convince me you’re on our side.” Rarity took a deep breath as she played her final card: “Many ponies have heard of the Elements of Harmony. But I happen to know where they are, how we can get them, and when we can get them, without drawing the Nightmare’s attention.” “Oh, of course,” Twilight said, her tone sarcastic. “Tell me another one: do you also know where the Nightmare’s locked away the ‘One Last Alicorn’ and the Crystal Heart, too?” “I know nothing about matters of the far North.” Yet a smile flickered across Rarity’s muzzle as the rest of the picture came together in her mind. “Five of the six Elements of Harmony are locked in the Nightmare’s treasure room. I have a friend in the castle who currently holds the keys to it. And the Nightmare has pulled most of her forces away from her castle to pursue this Alicorn and dragon who visited of late. We should be able to slip in without much difficulty, given that my friend has been left in charge of a mere skeleton crew there.” “That sounds too easy,” Gruff Voice said. “She hasn’t told us where the sixth is,” Twilight said. “It’s… in Tartarus.” Rarity struggled to keep her voice from wavering as she spoke the words. “In a cell, down in the lowest reaches.” “That does us little good, then,” Twilight all but seethed. “Yes, but another item present in the treasure room is the Hellshard.” “You’re crazy!” shouted Twilight. “Going down there would be suicide! And that’s assuming we could even get past the Guardian.” Another connection leapt into Rarity’s mind. “Do consider that she seems to be trying to get ponies out of Tartarus, albeit one at a time. I can’t help but think that we might find a different reception from her if we were to open a portal to Tartarus sans Nightmare for once.” “She,” Gruff Voice repeated. “Indeed,” Rarity said. “The account of her femininity came from some research I did. But I’ve also spoken with her myself from time to time as I’ve been present for some of the Nightmare’s banishments, and I believe that she’s benevolent. Perhaps she may have even once been a pony like us?” “This is all too coincidental,” Twilight said slowly. “I can’t believe this much good fortune would simply fall into our laps, at the same time as other things have crawled back into the light.” “Yeah, but I bet you’d love the challenge of corroborating her story,” Gruff Voice said. “Just you and a great big pile of books for as long as you care to spend with ’em?” “I suppose we have some resources here, but it’ll be harder to do a proper job of verifying this without clear access to the Archive,” Twilight said. “We might have to try retaking it.” Rarity cleared her throat. “Where is ‘here,’ if you don’t mind my asking?” “Somewhere safe,” Twilight said. Rarity nodded. “Somewhere that you’ve clearly invested time and effort into keeping safe. And somewhere that you were careful to cover your tracks teleporting into…” Her eyebrows climbed. “Is it… here?” “Is what?” “The… Underground Sun.” Rarity’s face brightened. “I would truly enjoy getting to see such a thing—presuming that it’s here?” Twilight grumbled. “I suppose actually seeing it can’t do much more harm at this point. Maybe it’ll even remind you what we’re really fighting for. Just remember, though, it’s gonna be one of the last things you see if your story doesn’t check out.” Rarity sighed with a deep and powerful release of tension. In one fell swoop, the prospect of death at the hooves of unseen ponies had been stricken from her mind, and her mission to deliver the mysterious stallion’s information to the Resistance had succeeded—at least provisionally. “I’m not worried about that, darling. Now please release me, and let’s speak face-to-face.” A horn glowed purple in the darkness. In an instant, Rarity’s bonds snapped, and a set of mage-light sconces along the edge of the room burst into a hearty glow. Rarity squinted at the sudden shock of brightness, and saw that the “room” was more akin to a large, empty, windowless warehouse. She turned her eyes back toward the ponies approaching her. They were indeed the grey earth pony and the purple unicorn who had helped snatch her away from the attackers at the Archive. Rarity rose from the chair and took trembling steps toward Twilight, the purple Alicorn—no, unicorn—who returned a look of furrowed brows and tense curiosity. “You said that you’d seen me before?” Twilight asked. Rarity nodded. “As Celestia is my witness, I spoke with you briefly in the castle, and at the time, you had wings.” “Were you down at the Nightmare’s castle?” asked the gruff-voiced grey earth mare. “No, of course not,” Twilight said. “It’s hard enough finding ponies to cover for me when I’m sleeping or out on operations!” The earth pony frowned, but then raised a hoof. “Here, let me get your inhibitor.” She reached up and removed the metal band from Rarity’s horn, and Rarity felt a small but satisfying surge of magic as she did so. “Name’s Limestone Pie. Thank you again for saving Sweetie Drops… but you’re sure it was Twilight that you saw?” Rarity shook Limestone’s hoof. It was heavy, tough, and felt like it could break solid rock. “Pleased to meet you. Yes, I’m quite sure it was her, as well as a… dragony thing.” She shivered slightly at the thought of the small sauropod whelp trailing in Twilight’s—other Twilight’s—wake. “I only spoke to her briefly, and I fear I wasn’t at my best due to how busy I’ve been, but it was quite a singular experience to get to see another Alicorn besides the Mistress.” “Who else saw her?” Twilight asked. “Oh, everypony. Even the Nightmare. In fact, it was her sudden disappearance that prompted the Nightmare’s expeditionary force to find her.” “Seeing another version of me could imply some kind of temporal or dimensional anomaly,” Twilight said, rubbing at her chin. “‘This world is an anomaly,’” Rarity said slowly. Instantly, both Twilight and Limestone took a step back, raising their brows. “That’s… a Zebraic saying,” Twilight said. Limestone nodded as well. Rarity flicked her tongue across her lips as she studied their inquisitive gazes. “Yes… I heard it from a zebra friend not long before she… was taken. She felt convinced that our world… this world… was never supposed to exist; that something must have gone horribly wrong to create it.” “The Nightmare,” Twilight said, her expression hardening. “I’m not sure it was, though; my zebra friend Zecora introduced herself to my hometown years before the Nightmare came, and… admittedly, gained something of a reputation as an eccentric by asking about things being wrong. But the world simply is what it is, isn’t it? It’s not as if we get to choose the world we live in…” Twilight turned away. “With an attitude like that, it’s no wonder you sold out. The world is nothing but what we make of it now.” She set off toward a long metal door at an end of the warehouse-like structure. Rarity and Limestone exchanged a look before falling in several paces behind her. “Don’t mind her,” Limestone said quietly. “Sometimes she gets… well, she’d call it ‘meticulous’ or ‘detail-oriented,’ but you and me can just call it ‘paranoid.’” “I see. And if I may ask… what did she mean by saying that she needed to have ponies cover for her at times?” Limestone cracked a deep smile. “She keeps the Sun running. Though before you see it, just know that I’m the one who carved the place.” “She does indeed? And you—” They passed through the doorway. Rarity hadn’t noticed the sheer amount of light streaming through it until that moment. But as she stepped out into a short tunnel carved from stone, Rarity was struck speechless by the sheer size of the massive cavern beyond, as well as the huge and impossibly bright orb hanging suspended over its floor. Heat washed over her face, and she was forced to cover her eyes with a hoof to keep the all-pervasive sunlight from blinding her unaccustomed eyes. “Welcome to the Underground Sun,” Limestone said. Rarity lowered her hoof in small distances at a time, trying to soak in any further details of the Sun-washed space. The light itself by far dominated her attention, though. There was a sustaining, perhaps even nurturing, aspect about it that Rarity struggled to grasp at anything other than the most visceral and physical level. She closed her eyes and rose on the tips of her hooves, stretching her face up infinitesimally closer to its glow, smiling as she let the white-yellow light soak through her eyelids. “I… I can’t believe that I’ve survived without this,” Rarity half-whispered. “You shouldn’t have had to,” Twilight said. “But take a look around. See what the world can be like again if we fight for it.” Rarity opened her eyes, studying the space near the entrance to the warehouse. Her jaw fell as she took in the sights of huge green fields of tall, healthy-looking plants. “How…” “Many ponies gathered seeds once they realized what was happening to the planet’s ecology,” Twilight interjected. “It’s taken work to gather even as much as we have, and we’re hopeful that more might still be out there.” “N… no, I mean how—” “Well, we’ve pumped in enough water from the… ah, local water sources to supply the few pegasi we still have with what they need to create a small, semi-functional weather system. Of course, some of us have data to support the idea that it’d be more efficient to just water the plants directly, but it seems to make most ponies happier to do things ‘the old-fashioned way.’” “And we want to make sure ponies don’t lose the skills for weather management forever,” Limestone added. “Y’know, for when we stop the Nightmare, bring Celestia back… and tie up a few other loose ends.” Rarity felt hot tears return to the corners of her eyes. “So much food,” she said quietly. “Think of all the ponies you could feed with this much food…” “We do,” Twilight said, her tone softening ever so slightly. “And we try. Our connections take more than their fair share, but at least our proof of concept here was successful. If we can scale this up, or build more of them, we could really do some good for the world.” Limestone grunted. “Yeah, but as Twilight loves to go on about, the problem is that maintaining something on this scale is pretty tricky for most unicorns.” “My teacher spent a lot of time pushing my limits,” Twilight said quietly. “We’ll deal with her once we’ve finished the Nightmare,” Limestone said, briefly resting a foreleg on Twilight’s withers. “You seem confident,” Rarity observed. “I have to be.” Limestone raised a hoof to shield her eyes as she glanced up at the Underground Sun itself. “I stayed at home while the ponies I loved went to their deaths at the Summer Sun Celebration… and I have to believe there was more of a reason than just spite that led me to do that. I have to. Especially considering…” She closed her eyes, and took a long, trembling breath. “A clear shot at the Elements could change a lot of things,” she said, her voice suddenly unsteady. “That’s assuming what you’ve told us checks out,” Twilight said. “You’ll stay Un-Marked and under guard until we know for sure. But I agree; we can’t risk losing this opportunity, if it’s for real.” “Then by all means, do your research,” Rarity said. She felt a pang of regret that Limestone had also lost loved ones at the Summer Sun Celebration. However, she couldn’t stop herself from reflecting on a recent loss of her own, and found her eyes drawn back toward her own flank. “Though on the subject of academic inquiry, I confess to being curious about the spell that you used to remove my cutie mark?” “The details of the spell are pretty technical… and philosophical,” Twilight said. “Its original purpose was to supposedly bring greater equality to Equestria through the removal of ponies’ unique talents. But its secondary effects are what’s really valuable: severing a pony from that aspect of their selves ends up masking certain ‘markers’ or ‘tracers’ that would make it possible to track them via magical means. That’s why we Un-Mark and use teleport charms when we enter or exit here; we can’t risk either our selves, or our unicorns’ teleportation magic, giving our movements away.” “It also keeps the Nightmare from finding us when we sleep,” Limestone said, wiping her eyes and turning a glance at the equals sign on her own flank. “Or like our old boss out East used to say: ‘You can’t have a nightmare, if you never dream.’”