Rarity looked at the bloodied body that was once a living pony. One moment ago the anger she felt was unlike any she had ever experienced. Now she felt nothing. She simply stood and watched as the life left him. It was not until the growing pool of blood threatened to touch her pristine hooves that she took a step backwards.
Rarity had always been a unicorn that struggled with her anger. As a filly she would throw tantrums which, although not uncommon for young foals, continued well into her adolescent years. When other ponies might have sulked or yelled, she exploded, her small body seething.
These episodes took their toll, both on Rarity’s parents and Rarity herself. The story of how one gets their cutie mark is one that most ponies treasure. For Rarity it acted as a reminder.
It was the eve of the school play; Rarity finished sewing the last thread in the costume she had been revising. Furrowing her brow, she tossed it to the ground, onto a heap where the other failed costumes lay. Rarity’s features contorted and her breathing was increasing pace. A hot vacuum was forming in her stomach. She knew well what this feeling meant.
This time was different. When Rarity pushed her focus towards her horn, it wasn't the sewing machine that was flung across the room, it was herself. Rarity didn't have time to right herself before she felt her horn jerk her body once again. Rarity’s parents paid little mind to the wailing their daughter made as she was pulled through their house; they had long since lost their patience with attempting to quell Rarity’s temper.
Kicking up dust was the only thing that resisting seemed to accomplish. After dragging her hooves and pushing against the magical force driving her Rarity, however opposed, eventually conceded.
Now hovering slightly off the ground, Rarity’s breathing slowed and the fog dispersed in her mind. She wondered why this might be happening. Rarity’s father had told her about unexpected unicorn magic: It never happened without a reason.
Rarity’s heart beat quickly once again. Several other ponies in her class had gotten their cutie marks this year - she was at the perfect age to discover her own. It made perfect sense. Her horn was leading her to the most important moment of her young life, maybe something to do with her love of fashion, maybe her cutie mark, but certainly, her destiny.
Sharp pain shot through Rarity’s body as her head collided with a giant stone. Her horn had stopped moving her and she plopped onto her back on the earth in front of the grey obstacle.
Heat was already bubbling through her core as Rarity rubbed the forming bruise on her forehead. She sat herself upright and opened her eyes to glare at what sit before her. During her reflection she had yet to imagine what might be at her destination, and what she discovered did not impress.
Rarity could feel the fire behind her eyes as she took in the stone her horn had led her to. She wondered for a moment if this was some sort of joke, a prank. Blood rushed to her face; heat radiated from her cheeks. This was no joke.
“A rock? That’s my destiny?” Rarity shrieked as loud as she could muster, letting her overwhelming rage burst from her, “What is your problem, horn? I followed you all the way out here for a rock?”
Rarity gritted her teeth and grunted forcefully. There was no response - from her horn or otherwise. Her rage focused briefly on the object standing defiantly in front of her.
“Dumb rock!”
Her mind was blind; her thoughts were purely devoted to stomping her hooves and thrashing her body around. Fire drove her muscles, and each flex caused the flames to burn hotter.
There was an explosion in the distance. Rarity was trembling so furiously and moving so violently she wouldn't have noticed if not for the startling crack that resounded from the boulder.
The sound jolted her back to reality. The first sight to pierce through the white fog was a spread of sparkles. Rarity focused on the light and the image of a bisected stone encrusted with dozens of flawless gemstones formed in front of her.
Rarity’s chest expanded and contracted as she breathed. Taking in the sight before her, Rarity’s mind calmed and her body relaxed. The rhythm of her chest slowed and her flushed face cooled.
Realization broke through Rarity’s mind and gave way to a smile. Her eyes scanned the beauty of the gemstones and she felt a new warmth within her, a pleasant warmth.
Rarity used her magic to pull each gemstone from the broken stone. Despite its durable appearance, the rock yielded to even Rarity’s meager strength. It didn't take long for her to collect each precious gem from the geode. To her surprise, she was able to levitate every gem all at once with little effort. Overflowing with inspiration she returned to her home and set to work immediately.
Rarity swapped the thread in the sewing machine for a deep blue to match the sapphires she was setting, then a green for the emerald. By the time Rarity had set the last jewel in the last costume, it was time for her to head to the play. She took one last look at her work and beamed with pride. These costumes were perfect. If not perfect, then at the very least they were better than anyone could have expected.
That night, while the foals danced on stage to the small crowd of parents, the gems Rarity had painstakingly set into the costumes shone under the stage lights. Rarity could see the astonishment in the eyes of her teacher, and the crowd. She had found what she was meant to do.
It wasn't until after the show, when one of the fillies who left the stage commented on it, that she found that she had her very own cutie mark. Rarity raced home from the play, she had to tell her parents about what happened.
That evening was filled with excitement and praise for Rarity. She saw her parents beam with pride as she showed off her mark. Rarity beamed as she received compliments and encouragement.
“I’ll be known all across Equestria!” Rarity rambled. “Everypony will want to wear the dresses I make!”
After her parents had gone to bed, Rarity was still bustling with energy despite having been awake since the previous day. She trotted back into the spare room where she did her sewing. Her mind was swimming with ideas for dresses. She still had an assortment of gemstones and she was eager to use them.
Rarity stood in the center of the room and took a deep breath. She contemplated what she should do first and glanced around the room. Her eyes rested on the sewing machine that sat on a table next to the window.
Outside the window was darkness, save for the silver glow of the Moon, still bearing the face of the traitor princess. The pale light illuminated the sewing machine, giving it a ghostly appearance.
Rarity thought back to the evening before. If her horn hadn't acted up in that very moment, she would have thrown the machine to the floor and broken it.
“I… was so mad,” Rarity meekly spoke to herself. “I almost lost my chance at getting my cutie mark… just because I got mad.”
Rarity thought back to when she first found the towering stone, how she lost control of herself. Her eyes cast down to the floor.
“I yelled at my horn,” Rarity muttered, “and that rock… The rock that had all those gems”
Rarity glanced over to the pile of remaining jewels. Her vision was distorted by the tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
Standing alone in the room that suddenly felt so empty, the filly lowered her head and shut her eyes, letting tears drop to the carpet.
Suddenly Rarity felt the weight of her body; her legs crumpled beneath her. She sat quietly sobbing until sleep overtook her.
For over a decade the revelations of that night stuck in the back of Rarity’s mind. She controlled her anger, not the other way around.
It was often difficult for her, but if ever her mind drifted and her vision began to cloud over, the promise she made to herself brought her back. If ever she felt the familiar heat rising in her stomach she would swallow and push it back down. With the sensation centered deep in her body, only burning in a single dense pit, Rarity would clear her mind and ignore the feeling until it vaporized.
With each passing instance, Rarity became more adept at managing her anger. Whatever annoyance or problem she would face, she could quickly overcome her instinctual reaction.
“Welcome to Carousel Boutique!” Rarity called from the back room of her store, having heard the jingle from the bell on the front door. “Where every garment is chic- Sweetie Belle!”
“Gotta go, late for school!” Sweetie Belle ran out the door. Rarity had certainly discovered the mess she had made of Rarity’s work area.
Rarity trotted angrily into the main room of the boutique. She looked around for signs of younger sister when she made eye contact with the colt who had entered her store.
“Oh-” Rarity had forgotten about the sound at the door. She expertly regained her demeanor and began restating her slogan, “Welcome to Carousel Bouti-”
“That’s quite enough,” the slender colt interrupted. “I came here for a reason, and that reason was not to be bombarded by pathetic catch phrases.” The pale green earth pony turned up his nose and sauntered further into the store.
Rarity felt a throbbing in her temples. She noticed her heart rate had increased. She inhaled deeply.
“Sometime today, please?” the pony barked. Rarity wheeled around to face the interruption. He had already stepped up on the platform for his measurements to be taken.
Taking instead a short breath, Rarity pressed on, “You must be Velvet Collar… I wasn't expecting you so early.”
“That’ll be Mr. Collar to you,” Velvet Collar sneered as he extended a foreleg for measuring, “and I was told you’d be ready anytime today, by yourself, if I’m to believe that you’re actually the owner of this place.”
“Well yes,” Rarity’s voice shook briefly before she regained her composure and continued to record the client’s measurements, “but you see I don’t typically open for another half hour, so-”
“Hmph!” Velvet snorted. “There was an open sign out front. Forget to change that did you? What’s the point of having a sign if it’s not accurate?”
Rarity swallowed, letting her mind clear for a moment.
“Well?” Velvet barked. “I asked you a question, didn't I?”
“Ah, right you are. Yes, I’ll have to keep a closer eye on that,” Rarity strained. She could feel the heat in her stomach seep through her body.
“Yes, you will.”
Rarity moved behind Velvet Collar to take measurements for his hind legs. She levitated the tape measure to Velvet’s leg and leaned in to read the mark. As she did, her face was met with a light whip as Velvet’s tail brushed against her.
“Ugh!” Rarity recoiled and glared at Velvet’s face. He was looking away, holding his head high.
Velvet craned his head back to look at Rarity. “Is there a problem?” He looked at her, examining her expression before turning back away. Halfway through his turn Rarity caught the slightest glimpse of a smile.
Rarity tried to push everything out of her mind. She was working, doing what she loved. She was recording measurements, and then she would be able to tailor a suit and satisfy another customer.
“About done?” Velvet asked. Rarity was mid-way through the final measurement when he hopped from off the platform. “Good.”
Rarity breathed as deeply as she could manage without sighing audibly. She did her best to smile as she said, “Well, I’ll have your suit tailored in less than two hours. Feel free to leave and explore the rest of Ponyville while you’re here.”
“What?” Velvet scoffed. “As if I’d want to see anything this town could possibly offer. I only came here under a friend’s recommendation. Somepony whose opinions until recently I held was some regard.”
“Wha-” Rarity struggled to find words, her mind was muddied with anger, “If you weren't going to stay in Ponyville other than to get this suit, why not just have me fit it to you?”
“That’s exactly what I was wanting you to do, you dolt!” Velvet Collar barked. His brow was furrowed, but his lips betrayed the slightest hint of a smile.
“T-then why would you have me take your measurements?” Rarity could feel her face becoming flustered. She needed to find time to calm down. “If I’m just going to fit the suit, measurements are completely redundant!”
“Oh, am I to tell you how to do your job now?” Velvet retorted, completely failing at hiding his enjoyment of the scene.
Rarity stood in silence for a moment before breathing, “I’ll go get your suit, then.”
“You do that,” Velvet chortled.
Rarity trotted off stiltedly to the back room. Once she was out of sight, she could feel the power of the fury she was holding in her throat. Rarity buried her face in a pile of fabric next to the door and screamed.
Half-way through the scream, she caught herself. She straightened her posture and repeated the same technique she had always done since she had gotten her cutie mark. She had to take several breaths this time. She recalled some of the first attempts at restraining her anger; this time seemed more challenging than even those times.
Satisfied that her emotions were in check, Rarity continued her business. The suit was resting on a mannequin, ready to be tailored. Rarity sighed and began taking each piece off the stand.
“What’s the holdup back there?” Rarity heard Velvet calling from the front room. “You didn't get lost back there did you?”
“Just a minute!” Rarity called back, biting her lip.
Rarity started to trot out of the back room when her foreleg caught a piece of cloth Sweetie Belle had left on the floor. Losing her concentration and dropping the suit to the floor, Rarity stumbled forward. Her head collided with the nearby table, sending a sharp pain through her skull.
Nothing could make this day worse, Rarity thought to herself.
“Hello?” Velvet shouted. “Are you taking a lunch break or something back there?”
Rarity collected the pieces of the suit and continued her walk back to Velvet Collar. She could feel the pain in her head draw the heat from her core. As much as she resisted, the rage building within her was becoming too much.
“Here is the suit. Put it on, inside-out, and I’ll have it fitted as quickly as possible.” Once again Rarity tried to focus purely on her work.
Velvet Collar looked at the suit and then at Rarity. His eyes went to the red mark on her forehead.
“Ha! Take a fall, did you?” Velvet mocked. “I wouldn't be surprised if that left a scar… hideous.”
Rarity only swallowed hard and pushed the suit to Velvet. He smirked and put it on. Rarity set to work right away, stitching each leg to fit and cutting away the excess fabric with scissors. She could forget the pressure building in her chest as long as she could work. If she could work and he wouldn't interrupt.
The blissful silence was soon broken - Velvet started to whistle. Unable or perhaps unwilling to find something to complain about, he made himself a nuisance in whatever way he could. Each note stung like hot metal against Rarity’s skin.
“E-Excuse me, sir…” Rarity was trembling and spoke through grit teeth.
“I told you, you will address me as ‘Mr. Collar’,” Velvet chided.
Rarity noticed she was losing her control. Each push she gave her anger was met with more and more resistance each time. Her breathing was heavy, but she managed to keep it quiet at least.
“Of course.” Rarity was careful not to let her voice tremble any more than it already had. “Mr. Collar, if you wouldn't mind... Noise is distracting and it’ll only make this take longer…”
“Really now?” Mr. Collar snorted. “I honestly couldn't imagine anypony doing this slower.”
Rarity finished fitting each piece of the suit, a process she normally finds relatively quick, instead felt like sitting on a hot stove-top. Velvet undressed and righted each article of clothing. He put it back on and stepped in front of the tri-fold mirrors to examine the ensemble.
Rarity’s heart was pounding furiously. She was barely coherent, all of her strength was directed towards keeping her rage at bay. The job was almost done, she could finally relax.
“What. Is. That?” Velvet snapped.
Rarity’s eyes shot open, she had been rubbing her temples as Velvet inspected her work. “W-What?” she weakly asked.
“This!” Velvet shoved his left hind leg towards Rarity’s face. “What is this horrible blue spot?”
On the leggings of the suit was a small blotch of blue. Rarity recognized the stain as some of the paint Sweetie Belle had smeared around her work room.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, my younger sister… It’s just craft paint, easily washed right out,” Rarity explained. Another pang of anger shot through her as she remembered the mess she still has to clean. More problems caused by her irresponsible baby-sister.
“This is completely unacceptable!” Velvet Collar shouted. “No, this is less than unacceptable! This is pathetic!”
Rarity simply stood in complete shock. Velvet had raised his voice, but now he was practically screaming at her.
“I intended to wear this suit on my journey home! Now what am I to do? Carry it back?”
The searing force had permeated its way to Rarity’s face. Her cheeks were flushed and her ears burnt.
“I hope you’re ready to never have another customer from Hoofington again! As soon as I’I've returned home I’ll be sure to-”
Rarity couldn't hear another word. The only sound was a high-pitch ringing. A white fog was encroaching the edges of Rarity’s vision. Her eyes darted around, trying to find a spot that was clear. They settled on Velvet’s mouth, still flapping as he continued to shout, his lips, opening and closing, curled into the unmistakable shape of a smile.
Rarity screwed her eyes shut, her entire face contorted with rage. She felt her horn’s magic burst from her. She could hear herself scream. The ringing in her ears had stopped. There was only the sound of her yelling. It was so much different than when she was just a filly. She sounded older, but there was something else. Something Rarity couldn't determine.
Rarity’s scream subsided, but the sound that replaced it was not that of Velvet’s shouts. Instead there was a weak gurgle.
Rarity opened her eyes again and saw the stallion standing before her. His eyes were wide. His mouth was gaping open. Bright red oozed from his throat. Rarity looked to the scissors she had been using to fit the suit. Held in place with the familiar glow of her magic, the scissors were plunged deep into Velvet Collar’s neck.
Rarity dropped her hold on the scissors. As she did, Velvet crumpled to the floor. He flailed his limbs as pain and confusion clouded his mind. His panic caused him to choke on the blood filling his throat, coughing a thick spray of blood from his mouth. He clambered for the blade stuck in him, but clumsily knocked it around, causing his body to spasm with pain. Hooves shaking violently, he managed to grip the scissors. With a firm tug, Velvet dislodged the blood-covered scissors. This only caused more blood to force its way out of his neck, spilling onto the floor of the boutique.
It only took a matter of seconds for Velvet to cease his movements. Frozen on his face was an expression of terror. A deep sanguine smeared across his mouth and around the gushing neck wound stained Velvet’s pale green coat.
Rarity looked at the bloodied body that was once a living pony. One moment ago the anger she felt was unlike any she had ever experienced. Now she felt nothing. She simply stood and watched as the life left him. It was not until the growing pool of blood threatened to touch her pristine hooves that she took a step backwards.
Rapidly the fog that was heavy in Rarity’s mind lifted. She blinked repeatedly as if clearing the sleep from her eyes. She glanced around the room. Everything was exactly as it had always been: curtains decorated the walls, curtains still over the windows from closing shop the night before, stairs leading to the bedrooms on the second floor, the doorway to the back of the store, the tri-fold mirrors, the front door. Nothing had changed besides the mess in the center of the room.
Rarity’s heart sank. Front door. Anypony could walk in at any moment. If there was something to thank Velvet for, it was reminding her about her open sign. Rarity scampered to the door, locking it and flipping the sign.
Rarity looked back to Velvet’s body. She swallowed; her mind raced. No ideas came to her. There was only one thing she decided for certain: nopony could ever find out about this.