Thirty Minutes of Fabulosity

by Esle Ynopemos

23: Reset [Dark] [Sad]

((Prompt: There is a conversation happening, but your character can only see it take place.))

'We have to do it.' That was what the purple one said. Or maybe 'We have to go through with it.' Rarity wasn't completely certain. Her lips moved, but there was no sound.

There was never any sound here. Just a dark gray sky above and a blasted, barren plain below. She might have expected wind to at least keep her company, but even the air itself stayed damnably silent. The only signs of life she had seen since awaking was herself, and the flickering images streaming out of the glowing memory crystal embedded into the ground.

The orange pony stepped forward shaking her head, like she did every time the image repeated. Her lips were the hardest to read. Rarity assumed the mare must have an accent of some kind. The only word she could glean from her was 'sacrifice.' Given the context, she assumed the orange one was opposed to sacrificing one of their own.

The image flickered and lapsed into static for a minute. The first time it had done it, Rarity's heart had stopped, as she thought even this much companionship, no more than silent ghosts from a magic crystal, were now lost to her. But the static was part of the recording. She knew it would come back into clarity again.

When it did, the yellow mare had her face buried in her hooves, sobbing. The orange one stood next to her, stroking her back with a hoof.

The rainbow-maned one spoke next. Asking something about 'another way.' The purple one's response to this made her very angry. Her hoof lashed out and smacked the purple one in the chin. In a fraction of a second, the orange pony was on the rainbow one, pinning her to the ground. The look in her eye, though, made it seem like she was half-tempted to just let her have at it.

Now it was the pink one's turn. For some reason Rarity could not fathom, it hurt her heart to see the pink mare so still. She gestured with both hooves at the six of them. Rarity believed her lips formed the words, 'all go together.'

The purple one rubbed her jaw and shook her head. She raised a single hoof in the air. Whatever her plan was, it could only work on a single pony, no more.

Chaos erupted as the six mares began arguing with one another. The rainbow-maned pony was on the verge of an all-out brawl with the orange one, and the pink and purple ponies now sat on either side of the yellow one.

Finally, the white pony stepped forward. She looked just like Rarity. She could almost hear her voice as her lips formed the words: 'I'll do it. I'll go.'

The others seemed to protest for a while, but the white one eventually seemed to persuade them. After some discussion that was lost on Rarity, the others formed a circle around her, donning strange jeweled pendants. The white one also wore a pendant, but the purple one had some kind of tiara instead.

The white pony asked the purple one a question, pointing to her head. The purple one nodded, and produced a crystal, just like the one that projected the image now, save for the massive crack that Rarity had in the side of hers. The purple one gave it to the white one, who cradled it in her hooves like it was a foal.

All six of them wore grim expressions as the purple one's horn lit up. Each of their pendants ignited in a dazzling light that hurt to look at, even through the recording. As the light grew brighter, it focused into beams that surrounded the white pony in the center.

And then there was nothing. The recording ended there. After a few minutes, Rarity knew it would start over from the beginning again.

She ran her hoof across the jagged gash in the crystal. If the white pony in the recording was her, then why didn't she remember any of the conversation? And what could they have possibly sent her here to do? There was nothing, absolutely nothing in this barren wasteland. No night, no day, no sounds, no movement.

Rarity shivered, and curled up next to the memory crystal as though she expected it to give off warmth. She was so very alone.