Only One Speck of Dust

by TheMareWhoSaysNi

Chapter 16

Only two more left, the hardest to reach. To catch the little blade planted inside her hind leg, right next to her hoof, Applejack had to fold up more than ever, and it intensified the pain of her other injuries. She did not really have the choice if she wanted to get rid of it.

She spat the projectile which joined the other ones scattered all around her, then tried to snatch the last one. Although the blades were small they had harmed her at many spots all bleeding with a flow more or less abundant. Visibly, none had touched arteries but rather veins… The spell chosen by Rarity yet did not seem to be the kind to preselect which part of the body should get hurt.

It was not really a stroke of luck. It was simply that Applejack had the reflex to protect herself and once she had been knocked on the ground, some of the blades had been driven into other targets – not alive targets.

It was impossible for her not to display a grimace of pain when she finally got rid of the last blade. Her whole body hurt her atrociously and was shaken by spasms she could not control. She was feeling as if she was nothing but an enormous throbbing heart. It was not that she did not want to stay lying here waiting for emergency services to come and take her.

A nearby moan made Applejack understand that her rival was emerging from her unconsciousness. She saw Rarity opening her eyes and feeling strong enough to display a mocking grin.

This whole thing of bewitched blades was very clever. Raw duplicity, typical of the unicorns of her rank who, up from their society elite’s pedestal, made fun of earth ponies and of their physical strength, judged as boorish and useless.

There was no way she would let her prevail over her. It had to be the unicorn who would stay lying on the ground. In order to exchange the roles, for a change. To show them that physical strength, far from being disgraceful, was the missing virtue of those arrogant ponies.

Not without difficulty, she stood back up, and ignoring her shaking legs, limped slightly on the snow seeking something… In the middle of dried blood stains, of pieces of material – wool, cotton and velvet mixed up – a round and brown shape stood out, somehow a bit covered by snow. Applejack blew on it, then dusted the rest with her hooves, before putting her hat back on her head. The inside was wet and sent chills that went through her whole body.

But at least, she had the sensation to be herself again this way.

Rarity had not miss a part of the show. What a sense of… graceless dramatization. It was ridiculous, even. Like straight out of a bad adventure novel. From her place, still too weak to move, she talked to the mare:

“Pshh! It is not worth acting like the “great righter of wrong”. You have no pony to impress since I am your only audience. And frankly, dear… Ugh, not thanks.”

“Well, at least Ah still am able to walk”, Applejack said with a wink.

“Oh yes, you are. You would make a splash in Manehattan with your cripple’s strut.”

Equality. She maybe was just a unicorn practicing fighting as an amateur, launched at the heart of the action for a stallion whom she believed in, yet there was something Rarity considered not to be – the kind to move aside when attacked, even verbally, and to withdraw within herself.

The exact opposite of the True King’s Suitor, in fact.

“D’ya really think yar smarter than anypony else?”

“You’re wrong. I only think I do am smarter than you. Haven’t you realized yet? All your friends probably are dead right now.”

It probably was not true. The orders never had been to kill any of them. Each Servant sent on a mission tonight had as their imperative to harm the more ponies they could and to gather information about their fighting skills. Of course, if two or three of them met their death by the way, this was not considered a major issue yet for now, the True King Prince Blueblood wanted to know who he would have to deal with, and to give The Militia another warning. No pony would be spared. What he prepared was an opened war. Today Ponyville, tomorrow Canterlot. And last but not least, all of Equestria.

But this, Rarity considered that Applejack did not need to know. It was a lot more enjoyable to let her think that, maybe, she was the last survivor of her Council. So her half-victory would not seem too delightful.

For a couple of seconds, her back turned on her, Applejack remained silent. She looked like thinking hard. Or maybe trying to hide tears.

“Imma tell ya somethin”, she started. “Would be best fer ya tis wrong. Otherwise, Ah promise… I’ll get ya fer dat. Ya, yar crappy King and all his minions. I’ll fight til I’ll die but I’ll get ya all to the very last.”

The bound connecting the Members of the Head’s Council was more than plain camaraderie. To accept to get into this Council was to make the oath to protect the city but also to be there for one another. And said members were not any pony. She had grown up with most of them. She knew them by heart. They each had a strong meaning for her. Even Soarin, who had not been there for a very long time. Thanks to him, Rainbow Dash would have a chance to be happy again…

Rarity sighed from weariness, rolling her eyes. It was not even funny. She was lying on the ground without the strength to stand back up and had to listen to the typical Militia’s pony’s speech. Revenge at any cost. Their damn Sacred Law she judged was absurd, daunting.

“You know what? Go away. You make me sick and it could ruin my coat even more.”

“Well, talkin’ of which…”

Applejack stepped to the lying unicorn and bent over in order to get back the velvet clothing still hanging at her shoulders. The mare’s own cloak was in shreds from her opponent’s blades and the weather was cold. She would not take the risk to suffer from hypothermia with all the rest. This night had already ruined too many things…

“What are you doing? How dare you robbing me? You are going to spoil my gorgeous piece of work with your stained coat. And so what? Are you going to let me dying from cold with nothing on my back?”

“Yar not goin’ to die from cold, ya still had clothes under the coat. But Ah have nothing on my back. Oh and don’t ya think Ah will let you shoot me in da back.”

“I no longer have blades, anyway…”

Which seemed to mean that she would not have hesitate if she had the opportunity.

However, it was rather strange… Far from holding her dear to her heart, Applejack could neither say she hated her. Rarity had proved to be some stimulating opponent. Not really because of the challenge she represented, which was not very high, but especially for her verbal jousting and her personality that was her complete opposite and so had been refreshing.

Nevertheless, her perception about her did not matter. She was a part of the other faction, the enemies. In fact, during their fight, she had said a lot about their new rival’s plans. Maybe that was intentional, in order to let The Militia know who it would have to deal with. But intentional or not, the facts were here. If she was to be on her way again, Applejack would not hesitate to beat her again, with all her strength and all her might. Personal emotions never existed on the battlefield.

She got away after she made sure that, indeed, Rarity would not try to shoot her in the back, trotting, in no hurry. She had to show the enemy a resolute self-confidence, an almost indestructible strength. The illusion needed to be perfect.

Once far enough, Applejack stopped at the turning point of a small and dark street alley, and she sighed deeply. The truth was that she had lost too much blood. She had stand strong until the very last moment, not to give Rarity satisfaction yet she needed to face the facts. It was impossible for her to even take one more step.

She leaned against a wall, trying to struggle by clenching her teeth. In vain. One second latter, her body fell back on the soft snow, emptied from energy.

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Soarin had flown above the Great Weaver. He had examined the Red Lights, the North Gates, the South Gates. Nowhere had he seen a sign of Rainbow Dash. He had no more luck with Applejack. On the other hand, he had heard various messages sent by Spotters or other Members of the Militia. According to those messages, the city had been particularly restless tonight. And the night was not over yet.

All that was left to inspect was downtown Ponyville – the area known as the White. From what he understood, it was called this way because it was the heart of the city and a heart had to be pure, immaculate. Yet, parted in two by the Briddleless River, poorly lit, it was undoubtedly one of the most depraved neighborhood, right after the Red Lights – where were gathered hostess cabarets, saloons and grinding brothel shacks.

In theory, there was no trace of any of the two mares on the left bank. It could not be. They could not have vanished into thin air. Unless some pony had caught them… But the question to that possibility was “why?”. What was the point about fillynapping them? It would bring no guarantee of winning the fight, the opposite even. All the Members of the Militia, the backup one with them, if not a few important ponies from Canterlot, would try to go and find them. Furthermore, they both would not be very cooperative.

No, they surely were here, somewhere. He had to take a better look, to pay more attention. Their figures would appear on the right bank, of this he wanted to be sure.

During daytime, this part of the city was very lively. A huge market took place every morning on the main square, on weekends entertainers came to distract the inhabitants and there were many activities for the youngest. Prices of cafes and boutiques were affordable. What a shame there were so many thefts at “days”, and so many other crimes at nights.

Soarin wondered whether he had to call the alarm if he ever perceived something dangerous. It was the Spotters’ field, in principle, yet to witness something horrible and not to take action somehow was hard to envisage for him.

The fact that he had seen nothing special yet did not comfort him. At each street corner, he was expecting to see a rainbow mane and a cyan coat standing out in the dark. The more he flew without seeing anything, the more intense the fright clasping his stomach became. If it kept on going this way, his heart would not take this anymore.

A detail finally caught his attention, while he was flying above an apparently uninhabited house. There was a hole in the roof made of tiles, a hole which could only have been caused by a fall. It was rare in Ponyville to transport heavy items by sky. Since the area was very frequented, this common practice of other cities was here regarded as highly dangerous.

Cautiously, he descended in order to observe the hole closely. That was how he noticed the sword in its sheath, in all likelihood snatched away from the rest of its belt, still unstable on the roof. As if possessed by some levitation spell.

Soarin had no problem recognizing Rainbow Dash’s sword. It was easy. Her initials were engraved on the black shaft, and the guard was encrusted with tiny diamonds with the same colors as her Cutie Mark. She was here.

It was not sure that slipping himself inside the hole she had caused was a good idea. Nothing told him he was thin enough and the whole building looked not so resistant.

All along his short flight to the closest window a little lower, the stallion pegasus felt his stomach wringing from the inside, and his heart rate going even faster. Yes, Rainbow Dash was here yet nothing indicated him in which state she was. The place seemed to be silent.

He slipped his head through the rectangle devoid of frame and glass, timid, and took a look inside. His heart skipped a beat. There was a pair of boots torn to shreds right where the hole had been made. And blood. There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the walls. Rainbow Dash was turned away from him, huddled up, such as a cyan ball of wool. Not far, a huge and crimson sword lied in the middle of dust and snowflakes. Against the bare wall, there was the apparently dead body of a pony. It was difficult to discern in which state he was. He looked like one of those shambolic paintings Soarin had seen in a Canterlot museum when he was a colt.

Wisely, he took a step and sat at a few inches of the pair of boots. Now he could clearly see Rainbow Dash’s back, slowly rising and falling. Her cloak also was torn into shreds and let her wounds show, some kind of reddish heap gleaming under the weak light from the moon.

The other pony, on the other hand, demonstrated no sign of life. Squinting, his vague shape was easier to comprehend. He might be lying on his side. His muzzle was bloody, large skinned cuts made his slimy and crushed flesh visible. The hemoglobin that had dropped from them was drawing some kind of disgusting patchwork, connecting the wounds together. And his wings… The right one half hung on his back, suspended by a few fleshy filaments.

If he was still alive, that would not be for a long time. And to be honest, if a miracle allowed him to get, he probably would be a vegetable until the end of his life. It was better for him to be dead… For all that, Soarin did not feel sorry for him. Whatever had happened, he surely had deserved it.

“Rainbow Dash?”, he asked softly, taking a step forward.

“Don’t come closer.”

Her voice was quavering. She did not sound like herself.

“But…”

“Don’t come closer. You never know. If what’s inside of me is still here, I might hurt you.”

What was inside of her… Soarin frowned. Such as the situation was for him, she had been trapped, she had to fight, had been harmed and had to respond, admittedly with a lot of violence yet he could not perceive why this fight was any different from other fights.

Obviously, there was an important missing piece in the puzzle.

“I’m sorry, Soarin. I’m sorry I haven’t told you everything. I thought I was able to control it but now I see that I’m not.”

“But… What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

Rainbow Dash tried to stand back up. The energy which had taken over her when she had stopped to keep control of herself had some vicious effects – as soon as it had vanished away, her whole body had seemed to her like made of bubblegum.

Her new attempt was as unsuccessful as the other ones. Moreover, she could feel her wounds again, and they burned and throbbed.

It was useless. She collapsed forward and she had to shield her chin with one of her hooves in order to avoid it to bump into the floor. A spasm came through her and then her whole body started to quiver, from her back to her throat.

She did not like to cry, especially in front of the others. She had the feeling it was like trying to get forced sympathy. When she cried, it was in the secret of her room, hidden under her sheets. The only thing helping her right now was that she was turned away from Soarin and he could not see her face.

Pathetic. That was what she thought about herself. Pathetic for wallowing in self-pity, shedding tears just because she had been overwhelmed and had discharged all her rage inside of her into a felon, into some undesirable pony. As if all those she had willingly crushed and harm until now had had been entitled to get her compassion…

In fact, she was crying as a manifestation of pure self-centeredness. Poor little Rainbow Dash not in terms with her flaws. Pathetic. From start to finish.

She wished she had not given in, but swallowed it all. She wished she had filled her chest and retained her dignity, even through the horror. Yet, it was no use. Her rolling tears did not seem ready to stop and her torrent of words became as uncontrollable as the rage she had felt earlier when she had butchered August Charmer.

“I’ve tried so hard to avoid it. But here he was provoking me, telling me all these things that made me mad. I swear, I couldn’t take it anymore… So I let it come up. The Black Blood.”

Soarin widened his eyes. No pony had told him anything about it, not even Caramel.

The Black Blood, the disease affecting the pegasus race. They were the only ones who could be infected. It was not really common, however, the poison had the characteristic to be hereditary.

He had never met any Black Blood carriers until then but he knew enough about it. It could not be cured, only dominated. When a contaminated pony could not overpower it, the least outburst of anger was likely to trigger it. And who had the misfortune to trigger it, then…

Then this pony would end up like the pegasus whom Soarin did not know. Dreadfully mutilated, disfigured for life, at the best. Dead, at the worst.

“Until now I’ve always managed to suppress it, to push it down my throat. I thought I was able to harness it… I was wrong. I can’t do it; I just can’t do it. I hate that and I hate myself because here I am whining because I’m not able to do one thing and I’m so selfish, thinking only about my little narcissist pony pain… And damn, why can’t I shut the fuck up?!”

This last reply made Soarin understand what it was all about. In reality, she was at the end of her tether, completely worn out. Disappointed by herself too but ultimately, this was not the major piece of information to remember.

Obviously, the pony who had attacked her had tried to drive her into a corner, not knowing what would happen then. He probably had not been warned she was a carrier of the Black Blood… It sounded a little like some cruel joke from a tyrant.

If he remembered rightly, Orange Steel had talked about some prince… Of course! No need to rack his brains. A simple lesson of modern history was enough to understand. The Fallen Heir Apparent. It could not be somepony else.

He had earned a reputation that was confirmed, judging by what he had done – to send one of his minions knowing well the mission would fail. In Soarin’s opinion, it was the only answer and not even for a second could he imagine Prince Blueblood ignoring this detail about Rainbow Dash. How did he know, on the other hand, this was a mystery?

He knew he could not leave Rainbow Dash in such a state. It did not look like her. She was always so self-confident… Self-important, even. For a good reason, of course… Far from annoying him, this flaw was a part of what he liked about her, although it was nothing pretty or sweet or maybe because it was not pretty or sweet. He would rather hear her say she was the best, period, than seeing her hold forth about her so-called self-centeredness.

Despite new warnings from her, Soarin stepped closer slowly, very slowly. She found it difficult to quiet down her tears… He was convinced that all it took to dried them up was to help her soothing. No pony could carry such a weigh on the shoulders without a break down.

Maybe there was a part of truth in what she had said. Surely, even. But it was not important. He was not here to judge her. He was here because he had worried and he cared for her.

It was a fact, sometimes he was not very smart. He could make blunders. Yet he knew he had many things to give. He could be her shoulder to cry on, her sympathetic ear. The affection she never dared to ask because of her pride but that in reality she was dying to receive.

As soon as he was by her side, Soarin saw Rainbow Dash looking away. It was not from shame. It was because she felt so vulnerable, and this in front of somepony else. Always, she exhibited her strength with satisfaction and acted like she had no cross to bear, as if weakness had never clasped her between its claws.

He needed to split the armor, to slip under her shell of ice and fire.

If she did not want to meet his glance for now, Soarin would not force her. She could keep on staring at the floor if it helped her to feel more comfortable with his closeness.

All he did was unfolding one of his wings and to put it right above her, as if sheltering her from an imaginary rain. She thrilled, flabbergasted. It was as if she had expected something violent and had been surprised by how gentle he was behaving with her. There was some kind wavering, then the barrier broke.

Tears, once again. Quite unexpectedly, she drew herself closer to him, buried her face inside his neck and cried unceasingly, her body still quivering.

A very wise pony had told her once that tears never came from the weakest ones but from those who had been strong for too long.

Rainbow Dash remembered… Wisdom was what described Time Stellar the best. He had been the opposite of herself. Barely out of teenage years, when they had met, she still was too brash, too swaggering, too reckless, too fierce, too everything. The Academy of Cavalry had not changed her at all. Meanwhile he never had lost his temper, never had raised his voice. He knew how to be firm with the others and with his Council yet never had left the impression of being insulting. Sometimes, she had hated him. Because he had been everything she was not and she loved him.

Yes, his memory still was strong yet little by little she had learned to regard him as a beautiful story with a tragic end but which would always be a landmark in her existence. Deep inside, always, Rainbow Dash had known another stallion would show up and shake up her certitudes about life again.

However, never had she thought it could have been a pony like Soarin. Not that different of what she used to be in some kind of ways yet complete opposite of Time Stellar who himself had been Rainbow Dash’s complete opposite. A pony who was at the same time tough and scared, wise and innocent, strong and weak, thoughtful and spontaneous… Warm. Soothing.

But she was not going to tell him. Tender words still were difficult for her. Less “out of her reach” than in the past yet still a little unattainable. She would probably be able to do it with a bit of time. Like she would be able to overpower this curse, if she could only stop whining and acting “poor me”.

Actions, on the other hand, were a bit easier, especially in a case such as this one, where she was sure no pony would see it and her reputation would not get stained. It would not be August Charmer, supposing that he was still alive, who would go around and tell it to everyone. In fact, the very idea of doing what she was about to do in front of a half-corpse was rather strange. So be it. If she waited to be somewhere else, the magic of the moment would be broken and she would never dare daring again.

Although her tears kept on rolling along her cheeks, she raised both eyes and face towards Soarin who leaned over to look at her, probably expecting her to say something.

He was surprised when she put her lips against hips lips, in a long intent kiss. A little clumsy. But it was the thought that counted.

Like a fool, he kept his eyes opened all along.

Once again, Rainbow Dash looked away, her cheeks crimson of embarrassment. Not the embarrassment of the action itself. The embarrassment of such an action in front of a mutilated body. In front of what could really be a corpse.

Comments

[Dusk_Writer]

You have successfully killed me with the last scene right there.