//------------------------------// // 2019 project - Diamond Sisters - Chapter 2 draft 1 // Story: RoMS' Extravaganza // by RoMS //------------------------------// Rarity opened her eyes. Silence. She was lying in a bed with recently changed linens, alone. She tried to recall the last time she’d had the chance. Not in a long while. The Workers’ house was always busy, cramped and rancid. She looked down at her feet under the covers. She was sweating in the damp, cool air that crawled through the open window. The room was at least on the second floor, she couldn’t hear any distinct walking sounds. Only the plucking of raindrops against the outside wooden parapet gave her a sense of time. The lightning outside lit up the walls and she caught a glimpse of her damage arm. It burned. Messy, rust-colored gauzes wrapped her arm from her elbow down. Only the tips of her fingers were left exposed. Rarity stared at her nails, cleaned of any dirt. “You scared me. So much.”  Rarity gasped when Tempest’s voice rose from the shadow of a corner of the room. Rarity turned her head to the right. Tempest was sitting in a chair next to a tiny nightstand where a dead oil lamp sat. Feeling tears rising, Rarity held her hand over her eyes.  “Do you mind lighting the light, please?” Rarity asked. Tempest did as Rarity brushed a couple of tears from her eyes. The topaze light illuminated Tempest’s face.  “The doctor extracted some gem shards from your hand,” Tempest said, pointing at the small brown napkin folded in her hand.  “They also cleaned your wound with what they had...” “Snips died… because of me,” Rarity blubbered. Tempest didn’t raise a finger. “The bird scared me and I ran away. I’m a coward.” Rarity turned again to look at Tempest. Their eyes never met. Rarity could only hear her friend’s low and heavy breathing. “You didn’t flee,” Tempest said. “Yes, I did,” Rarity heaved. “You always say I can be selfish and oblivious. You’re right. I should have known we weren’t alone in that place. That stupid bird… I could have grabbed Snips and drag him to the hole.” “If it was a monster, you’d have died too,” Tempest rumbled. “Your life is better than none.” Tears wet Rarity’s sheets as she glanced at her bandaged arm. The wound itched. She went to scratch at it but stopped herself short of pulling the gauzes. She stared at the wall facing her bed. “What happened down there?” Tempest  asked, leaning chin up against the back of her chair. “A monster came.” Tempest’s pupils jittered as she seemed to dread what was nothing but a confirmation. Rarity knew she’d seen it. “That wasn’t a monster of stone, flesh or metal,” Tempest recounted. “I saw it., it was more like a mist.” “She talked.” Rarity met Tempest’s frozen look.  “She?” “She used magic. The witch.” Tempest rolled her eyes. “Magic’s a fairy tail. Have you hit your head?” “She did used magic. Believe me.” Rarity rubbed a tear from the corner of her eye. “She did something to Snips. He was bleeding.” “Nothing that a sword or good claw can’t do.” Rarity gripped her chest, her heart beating wildly inside her ribcage. She took several sobbing breaths. “She tossed me like I was a sort of mannequin.” “A what now?” “She never touched me,” Rarity threw her hand out, mimicking the scene. She only met Tempest’s confused expression in return. “She was flying and she chucked me around with her mind.” Tempest set a hand on Rarity’s shoulder. Rarity shuddered. “You don’t trust me?” “I can only speak of what I saw. And you don’t want that tale to be the first thing people hear from you, Rarity.” Tempest gulped hard. “Six people have died so far in the collapse.” A cold knife plunged into Rarity’s heart. She closed her eyes.  “The bossyboots from Canterhigh castle will want a word with you,” Tempest continued, grabbing Rarity by the shoulders. “I needed to let you know. We were several to see the black smoke snake thingy. But the sheriffs weren’t satisfied, at all.” “What do I tell them?” “What you saw.” Rarity sighed. “Nobody will believe me. You don’t.” “I know what I saw,” Tempest repeated with a somber smile, her hand pressing further, painful. “I’m your friend but I wasn’t in there with you. I can’t be here when they’ll interrogate you. My word is worthless.” “The place was old, Tempest. And the statue. It was so beautiful. And the ceiling, encrusted with diamonds.” Rarity caught Tempest’s first earnest smile of the day. “At least we’re making banks on those. Maybe they’ll get you off easy for it.” It dawned on Rarity there would be a trial. There was always one after a collapse or a blast. Tempest had been through several.  “But…” Rarity coughed, clutching at the knot in her belly. “I’m the only one that saw it all. Nobody’ll believe me. The council will just blame a blast and a coal firedamp.” She was screwed. Tempest’s silence told her as much. Her biting her lips was a pressing condemnation–she never did. “Can you…” Rarity begged, retching. “I don’t know how,” Tempest replied, letting go to press her forehead in her palms. “Just do something!” Rarity yelled, throwing her arms out with great pain. “You’re my best frie—” Tempest’s eyes grew wide. Rarity traced Tempest’s stare to her bandaged forearm, and her brain froze.  A sapphire glow pulsed from under the gauzes. Rarity darted her focus to Tempest’s napkin. Its content had spilled over the bed sheets. The fragments of the amethyst that’d exploded in Rarity’s hand in the mine lay about. They glowed the same hue as her arm. “I didn’t do that,” Rarity said, watching with dread as Tempest’s expressions ran from fear to wonder and cluelessness. The door opened with a kick. Rarity froze, Tempest sprung, grabbing onto Rarity’s left arm and pulling it down under the bed sheets. Rarity fought a wince and watched stupefied as Tempest held onto her, locked sitting astride her legs. One of her knees pressed the amethyst shards deep in the mattress. Rarity’s eyes followed Tempest’s as she gawked at a light lapis teenager with silver hair walking in backward with a small cart in tow. “Hello, my name is nurse Trixie,” the white-clad teenager said with a tinge of sass followed by a long-winded angry sigh. She readjusted her cream blouse as she turned. “I will be changing your g— gauzes?” Rarity’s eyes shifted from Tempest to the visitor. She tried to babble a word but sputtered herself into silence. Rarity glanced up at Tempest. “What?” her senior replied. “Do something!” Rarity peeped. “I’m gonna let you finish… outside,” Trixie said, coughing in her hand. Rarity goggled back at the nurse. She felt a blush burning her cheeks. “No that’s not what you think!” “Oh, don’t worry! I’ve seen craz—” Trixie frowned at Tempest. “What’’re you looking at?” Rarity looked up. Tempest hadn’t moved, staring bewildered at Trixie. Rarity followed her gaze and saw the nurse’s necklace. “What?” Trixie said exasperated. The bead dangling on the iron chain teetered an inch or two above Trixie’s chest. It glowed too. “Make it stop,” Rarity heard Tempest breath, never diverting her eyes. Rarity didn’t answer. She was entranced as she watched Trixie seize the bead between her fingers. The teen untied the necklace with her other hand and flicked the bead away. Dragging the chain behind it, the small gem wobbled, suspended in the air by an invisible force. Rarity held her breath. Tempest audibly did too. Rarity cold picture gears mull over behind the teen’s eyes. The room had swiftly fallen to a frightening silence. “Someone’s gotta see this,” Trixie exclaimed, swivelling on her feet. Trixie pushed the cart aside and ran away. “Wait!” Tempest ordered. Trixie was already out as the cart came crashing down in a ear-splitting racket. Tempest lifted her knee, swiping the amethyst shards to hide them under the mattress. She rushed to Rarity’s side and pulled the cover down to reveal the mangled, bandaged and glowing forearm. “What’s that,” she scolded, pointing with an open palm. “Bandages,” Rarity humored. “Ah, shut your mouth,” Tempest burst, swiping Trixie’s necklace off the air as it made its way above the bed. “How you do it?” “I don’t know.” Rarity’s tears came back, her lips shaking.  Rarity scrapped the bandage up, tearing at some early scabs. Tempest winced as the sight of the open wound. The three-diamonds-and-swirl brand pulsed through Rarity’s skin, glowing like sapphire cast under a jeweller’s light.  Sobs wracked Rarity as she watched the light ebb and flow. She could feel the markings throb, a wave of heat that ran deep under her skin. “Make it stop,” Tempest hushed. “Make it go,” Rarity begged. And it went. Rarity felt the pressure drain from under her like emerging out of cold water. Tempest leaned backward to sit at the edge of the bed. They both shared a deep sigh of relief. “You ought to see this, Red Heart,” Trixie said in the hallway leading to the room. “It’s Chief Nurse Red Heart, for you,” an imperious voice thundered in the teen’s stead. Trixie and a pristine white woman at the upper limit of her prime walked into the room. Trixie was jittering, pulling at the chief nurse’s arm ecstatically.  “Her arm was throwing lights!” Rarity diverted her gaze as she felt eyes undress her for any signs. She locked down on her ravaged forearm and the ripped off gauzes lying about. She tasted blood and bile. Red Heart grunted, Rarity looked up. The Chief Nurse set a foot against the toppled cart, inspecting the splayed open content. “I’m done with your antics, Trixie,” the nurse seethed, storming out. “No, I tell you, it really glowed!” “Clean your mess and get back to work! Prep’ the miner up. She’s got company soon.” Trixie held out her hand in the doorway, hoping to drag her boss back. Red Heart’s heavy steps rattled down the hallway and a series of stairs. “You ruined everything,” Trixie scalded Rarity as she snapped around. “For once there was something interesting happening in this boring city.” “Interesting?” Rarity and Tempest stammered together. Rarity backed down after they shared a glance, letting her friend do the talking. “Interesting?” Tempest said, standing up to stroll down the room till she loomed over the sheepish teen. “Do you know what Canterhigh does to witches?” “We…” Trixie gulped. She chuckled slightly, “burn them?” Rarity felt her insides crash down to her feet. She recalled the stories she got to listen in the amphitheater of the Workers’ house. The last witch trials might have had happened a hundred years old, a story of stakes and fires was still recounted by the elders, telling of the grimness of the city’s past civil war. Magic was just a prop, a way to embellish an old story. Rarity had thought so her whole life. She glanced at the brand in her arm. “Yes, we burnt them.” Tempest thundered as she grabbed Trixie by the neck of her blouse. “And I don’t want you to cry monsters and tricks over something like…” “Please, stop.” Rarity lifted her hand to her friend and whimpered as the pulse came back. She started backward, hitting her back against the head of the bed. The light was gone again. Still holding on Trixie, Tempest had followed the commotion. “Do it again, Rarity.” “Do what?” Rarity replied, vacillating. “Just move your arm around, I don’t know.” Wincing as she lifted her left forearm, Rarity traced a semi-circle in the air. Only when she pointed towards an indistinct point at the wall did it light up. “Cool,” Trixie muttered. Tempest slapped the back of the teen’s head. “Hey, how dare you, pauper?” “Keep it up,” Tempest ordered Rarity, shoving Trixie away with a hand. Rarity painfully held her hand in the direction that caused the light.  Tempest strolled back and forth between the wall and her hand. She scraped the wood of the wall as if to look at anything embedded in. Then, she walked outside the door, only to come back. “That must be saying something,” Tempest said. “I don’t wanna burn,” Rarity replied. “Maybe you’re going to explode like smoke and bombs?!” Trixie squeed. She earned Tempest’s glowering stare. “Or not.” Tempest walked back to the chair by the nightstand and slumped, holding her head between her hands. “She be cursed, right?” Rarity gaped at Trixie, “No, I’m not.” “Well!” Trixie unceremoniously walked to the edge of the bed and plopped her butt down the mattress. “I heard about the black smoke! Pretty cool stuff by the way. Apparently you caused some powerful explosion or whatnots. But the sheriffs’ve been pretty active since. There was looting in the town square sinkhole.” “The sinkhole happened in the townsquare?!” Rarity gasped. “Well, duh?” Trixie rolled her eyes. “And everyone saw the statue and stuff. People say it’s from the time before the civil war, or better even… The end of the world! Imagine, a time with clear skies to watch fireworks! I even read about what’s called stars when I was little.” Rarity looked at Trixie with a scowl. That teen had been taught how to read. Tempest and she hadn’t. Rarity had done it herself. Resentment bubbled inside her. “You live on the hills under the castle?” Rarity asked febrilly. “Yes, I do!” Trixie replied with pride. “I’m just here because of community service.” Rarity slightly backed away in surprise. “What does a kid from the high society have to do to get a punition?” Tempest rumbled, mirroring Rarity’s mind. “Oh, I don’t know.” Trixie giggled by herself. “I may have… uh, I, the calm and very studious Trixie, was accused of stealing dynamite to make fireworks.” Tempest groused, setting her head against the chair’s headrest, a hand over her face. “You don’t make fireworks with dynamite.” “What do you know?” Trixie retorted. “She does explosives in the mines,” Rarity quickly said, seeing her friend’s teeth grind behind her hand. “Oh! Well, if not for the sheriffs, I’m sure they’d need you at the mine.” Tempest jumped to her feet. “What about the mine.” “Well, your friend here.” Trixie pointed at Rarity. “She may have killed about six people, but there are about twenty others stuck in the lower levels since yesterday. Red Heart was fussing about it because that’s going to make our job harder when they get them out. Getting woundier or something.” Rarity eyes grew wide. She’d been out for a day. She glanced at Tempest who was now taking in slow and measured breath. “I don’t know why, but the sheriffs have locked down the area around the shaft and sinkhole. No rescue mission.” Trixie shrugged and looked at Rarity. “At least until they’ve had a word with you, I believe.” Tempest tensed, her fists clenched by her side. “I was told to keep you all lively and well,” Trixie continued. “At least till they come.” “You ratted her out,” Tempest spat. “Not at all, I just do what I’ve been told,” Trixie rolled her eyes. “That’s what good Canterhigh citizens do, don’t you think?” She pointed at Rarity. “Especially since you’re a witch, and you let a monster loose in the city.” Rarity felt the cold water bucket of realisation being slowly dunked over her head. After a long moment staring at nothing, she looked first at Tempest, who wasn’t focused either, then at Trixie. She’d crossed her arms. “All this monster talk, though it’s cool, is making people angry. Maybe they’re going to string you, Rarity am I right, up for example. They do that sometimes to keep the paupers calm.” “I thought you were oblivious, Rarity,” Tempest said, rubbing the ridge of her nose. “But that kid takes the cake.” Tempest covered the distance to Trixie with three long steps. Trixie had the reflex to flinch away. Tempest’s reach outran Trixie’s attempt. Tempest slapped the back of her head again. “Stupid kid.”  “What do I do?” Rarity said with a sob. “We move.” Tempest walked to the window and glanced down outside in the rain.  “Aren’t you going to give her to the militia?” Trixie asked. She didn’t press further as Tempest raised her hand again, palm opened. “Well, can I come with you?” “Are you dense?” “Eh, oh!” Trixie tut-tutted. “First, I come from a great and powerful family. Have some respect.” She dodged another of Tempest’s hearty head pats. “Second, I’m not gonna stay here and explain to the sheriffs I’ve let you go. I’m making myself your hostage.”  Rarity let got a single guffaw that sent a shiver of pain down her ribcage. The first earnest laugh she’d had in a long while. “And,” Trixie continued, bending ever slightly forward as she wiggled a finger at the many years her senior, “I don’t understand why you’re helping her?” Trixie pointed at Rarity. “You’re gonna throw away your job and life for that whiny woman.” “What,” Rarity stuttered. “I’m not.” Trixie rolled her eyes. She motioned at Tempest. “When the tall gall here wasn’t there yet, you were all sobs and tremors in the bed.” She shook her head. “Talking in your sleep about that woman with golden hair.” “What woman?” Tempest asked. A blush rising on her cheeks, Rarity curled against the head of the bed. “I’ve been having dreams about the same woman for a week now. She doesn’t look as sickly as we are. Pale I mean. The place. The tastes. The sights. It’s all too real. Like I’ve been there before and want to go back.” “Ah, visions!” Trixie said, beaming victory at Tempest. “Told you she’s a witch!” “No, I’m not,” Rarity protested. “That honestly doesn’t help your case,” Tempest finally said, earning a pout from her friend. “Tempest!” “Who’s there?” a strong male voice echoed in the hallway. “That’s the clue,” Trixie said rushing to the doorstep. “Sorry, Sheriff, it seems I’m being taken hostage.” Trixie slapped and locked the door. She took a deep breath, and glanced at Tempest with a crossed look.  “Uhm, they have…” A sword slashed through the top of the door. “You get the hint.” “Help me,” Tempest called. The two swiftly pushed the bed against the door. “Do you know of to hop rooftops?”  “You hurt me, I am the best!” Trixie huffed as if disgraced had fallen her. “Just watch and learn.” She jumped out the window and yelped. “Can you walk?” Tempest asked Rarity.  “Yes, I do,” Rarity muttered. “But where are we going?” “Not here, that’s for sure,” Tempest said as a second sword joined the door hacking. “There’s something more to this story than the telltale says. If we need to clear a misunderstanding, it can’t be done here. Now run.” Rarity carried herself out of bed. Tempest tied the brown napkin around Rarity’s injured arm. Holding on tight, Rarity walked through the window frame with Tempest in her stead. ⇜⇝ “I’m bleeding,” Rarity said with a wince. “Give me your coat,” Tempest ordered Trixie. “I’m gonna bandage her.” “Are you crazy? It soaked in the rain. She’s going to get infected.” Trixie looked down at the wounded arm. “It’s definitely going to get infected. I advise early amputation.” Tempest whacked the underside of Trixie’s head. “If you continue with that, I’m gonna complain to my parents.” Trixie pouted. “And I’m serious. No arm, no weird symbol.” She looked Rarity in the eyes as if she expected her to connect to the conclusion. “Thus no witch.” “I’m not—” Rarity started. “What’s the best second solution?” Tempest cut. Trixie shrugged. “I’ve just been working at the infirmary for like two days. I’m sure rubbing alcohol would help. And clean bandages of course.” Rarity took a deep breath. She’d been wounded before in the mines. Alcohol straight on a cut was painful. She looked down at her injury. That was going to be a bad trip. “Where are we anyway?” Trixie asked, looking around the city skyline. “I can barely see the hills and castle through the fog.” Rarity knew the place. It was the old roof at the top of the Workers’ house. A derelict balcony sat hidden between two massive chimneys. The door leading to it had been filled with cement decades ago. Not many people could see it from other houses, and so not many knew about it. Rarity knew thanks to Tempest. She’d brought her there years ago for her first cigarette. And some illegal moonshine tastings. Rarity wouldn’t tell, though. She kept heaving, exhausted by the ladder climb on two legs and one arm. “You two stay here,” Tempest whispered, patting Rarity’s knee. “I’m gonna fetch what you need.” She turned to Trixie. “And you shut your word-hole.” Trixie rolled her eyes and mimicked locking a key between her lips. She threw the imagined key away. Tempest crawled to the ladder and disappeared off the edge. “So, how is it?” Trixie asked. Rarity’s head drooped. “What is how?” “I mean, the mine.” Rarity’s back cracked as she slowly leaned against the concrete wall. She looked up at the rusty corrugated iron porch that protected the balcony from the drumming rain. “How old are you?” “Seventeen, and you?” Rarity hesitated. “Twenty eight.” “Old.” Rarity nodded. She took a deep breath and hunched over to hide her tears in her hands.  “Sheesh, I’m sorry.” Trixie’s blouse scrapped on the bare concrete as she got closer. Rarity felt a pat on her shoulder. “I didn’t know your kind could be so emotional.” “You’re really not helping,” Rarity said, looking up to the teen. “Of everything that could have happened today, everything took the worst possible turn.” “You mean yesterday.” “I let a kid your age died.” A knot welled up in Rarity’s throat. The fact itself was painful to say. “Well, doesn’t that happen like everyday in the mine? I mean, you should be used to it by now.” Nobody was used to it. Miners were a family. And though the city didn’t care, they did. Rarity didn’t answer. A pampered up kid wouldn’t understand. “I’m sorry,” Trixie said. “I didn’t mean to be mean. It’s… my teachers told me the lower city people are… just that they’re not worth much. But there are some cool people there, like your friend. Tempest, right? And gallow birds like you and your magic arm! I didn’t even know anyone could magick around!” Rarity pressed her knees to her chest, wrapping her legs between her arms, and look beyond the roof at the city skyline. “Teachers…” Canterhigh was built in the middle of a depression at the foot of a mountain. Rarity knew that but she'd never see the mountain itself. A fog fermented over the city, making it impossible to see more than two hundred yards in every direction during the best days. From the top of the Worker's house, rarity could only see the many brick buildings where people stacked over each other in overcrowded dormitories. It was a wretched life. It was still better than beyond the wall. Rarity had only seen it a few times. The rempart separated the city from the wilderness, the dead forest. From the monsters. She'd never seen any, but the story infected her with cool shivers every time she thought about it. She’d heard the stories, read the loss reports stamped on the town square walls. She was a miner, but at least she was not a courier or a caravanier to other cities.  Rarity thought of the witch. She could still picture her ragged face under the hooded dress. She shivered. She wondered if she was a monster too. It had been so long since the city had been attacked. Rarity wasn't alive yet at the time. Trixie waved a hand in front of Rarity. "Trixie to weird witch lady, do you see me?" "Ah, cut it," Rarity pestered, pushing the hand away. Rarity huddled her knees closer and watched as the forever rain dripped and drummed along the sheet metal roof of the balcony. The rain soaked everything, dragging any smell to the mud that mulched on the ground.  "So why does you arm glow on and off?" Rarity exhaled. "I am as new to this as you are." "You tell me. You said you've had visions for a week." "Dreams..." "Whatever." Rarity painfully raised her hand and extended her arm out. She winced as her fingers touched the water streaming down the edge of the balcony. "Was it you who cleaned my nails?" Rarity asked. "Well, yeah. Red Heart told me to. I'd have anyway, you were quite nasty, I-" "Thanks." Rarity turned to smile at Trixie.  Trixie’s face lit up. “Even the great and powerful me can make friends in this mudhole, ah! Take that, d—” Rarity’s smile faded as she Trixie became livid, her eyes riveted to the edge of the Workers’ house roof. Rarity turned and froze. A black smoke was crawling up and over, needling with fuzzy tendrils at the metal sheets to get a grip. “I think we’re going to need your girlfriend,” Trixie deadpanned. “She’s not my girlfriend.” The smoke reshaped Two claws slashed. in the metal as if to haul itself. A single cold eye opened in the coal mist. Trixie rolled her eyes. “Something to go on your debt to me by the way. Your tall gall didn’t give my necklace back.”