Tapestry: A World Apart

by Star Scraper

Ch.20: Sweet Sister

Rarity sat up in a sleeping bag, coughing violently. Her eyes watered and stung. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision at the same time her body heaved uncontrollably. She felt a warm body beside her and a hoof patting her back. Every breath she took to cough or heave caused another wave of agony that made her chest burn and forced her to wretch even more.

After a wretched minute that felt as horrible as it sounded, she could finally start blinking enough tears out of her eyes to see. Her breath was still raspy and pained, and her throat scratched and sore under her warm fire ruby, but the coughing finally stopped. As it did, she felt an intense, pinching pain on her right forehoof, and something wrapping it as well.

Somepony had been holding some cloth in front of her mouth to catch the black, red and silvery phlegm she'd been coughing up. She closed her eyes and averted her sight from the disgusting mess to keep from throwing up.

Her cloak and socks were gone. She felt her fire ruby across her chest, a thick, wooly and wet but warm sleeping bag from her waist down, and a towel tied around her waist like a loincloth or diaper. Some pegasus was sitting next to her, helping hold her up.

Am I camping? Did I wet my sleeping bag?! It smelled more like sweat, and the towel didn't feel thoroughly soaked – only damp like the sleeping bag. Then she stiffened as she remembered what'd happened to her last.

Did I die and wake up as a foal?!

If this is what they feel like no wonder they cry so much... She quickly brushed the wild question away as she heard the pony holding her. “Oh, you're doing so well, we're so glad to have you around,” a sweet, gentle, feminine voice chimed, wiping her cold sweat away with a rag. “You're safe here, and oh so lucky to be alive!”

There was something strange about her voice she couldn't place – like an odd echo, or a mirage but of sound. Something nagged her about it, but she hardly had time to think of it. She looked at the mare, but saw only a blurry smudge as she continued to blink clear her watery eyes.

“Y-yes, but who are-” Rarity croaked as she tried rubbing her eyes, but broke into another fit of coughing.

“Take it easy, miss. You've been through a lot.” She felt the hoof pat her back gently as the cloth re-appeared in her vision. The voice had the strange effect again.

After the coughing ended and the mare pulled the cloth away again, she finally rubbed her vision clear with the back of her left hoof. Looking down, she saw her pained right hoof was bandaged. She looked to her side to see the pony helping her.

“Nurse Redheart?” she asked, using a much gentler voice this time. Her throat held. Weren't you an Earth Pony?

"No,” she shook her head, “I'm Gratitude, Private First Class, Adherent medic. We're here to help.” Her voice still had the strange effect. Rarity listened to it more intently – it really struck hard when she'd said her name.

She looked forward to check her surroundings. She was in a tent barely tall enough to sit up in. A tiny lantern hung next to her head, providing a gentle, warm glow. Most of the floor was taken with thick blankets and warm clothing, some bags of supplies, and two rifles sat along the edges

As she looked to her right, she saw out of the corner of her eye that a stallion in some plain pants and shirt sat a yard behind her. But a small, white unicorn to her right grabbed her attention with a curly, blush pink and periwinkle purple mane. She looked at her, wide-eyed, taking a solid second to believe her own eyes as she looked at the young mare's olive green eyes. She was at least a decade older than she remembered, and she – as well as everypony else in the tent – was unusually thick-furred, but she definitely looked just like her.

“This is Sergeant Courageous Fate,” Gratitude continued, pointing to the stallion sitting at the end of the tent. The strange effect with her voice hit especially hard on the name. “And this is -”

Rarity felt her heart freeze. “S-Sweetie Belle!?”

The young mare who looked like her sister spoke up with Sweetie Belle's familiar voice, “That – that sounds like a name. But that's not my name,” - she shook her head - “but – are you not Grandeur, then?” she asked. “But you look just like her! But she also didn't speak Delphinian...”

Her voice had the strange effect as well – and that's when she realized what the effect was – she had never before heard a word they were saying, but she somehow knew the language they were speaking.

But her determination to identify the filly would hardly be delayed by something as petty as a linguistic spell. “I – I may describe myself as, ahem” - she cleared her throat, fighting back more coughs - “grand, but my name is Rarity,” she explained, her voice shaky, raspy and broken. Her expression was uncertain. She sat on a tipping point in-between disbelief and desperation for her sister to be alive.

It didn't sound like she was calling me by a pet name – and this can't possibly be Equestria, still, is it? So why would she be here? But there's Nurse Redheart! Or, some pegasus version of her... Her confusion deepened.

“I'm sorry, it's just – you look just like an older sister I had. I thought maybe you were her...” Even as the filly's ears flopped down, Rarity's face lit up.

The fog of surreality was blown away by excitement. She recognizes me! It must be her!

“I am your older sister!” Rarity cried. She couldn't keep herself from coughing a little more, but she didn't let it interrupt her lunge forward – she grabbed her younger sister in an embrace, tears welling in her eyes more plentifully than the ones that had blinded her earlier. She squeezed her younger sister, her sobs interrupted by coughs, while both kept her from speaking.

The confused filly stiffened for a second, then relaxed and returned the hug just as enthusiastically.

“Oh – uh, careful with the hoof,” the medic gave a little warning. “And try not to over-excite yourself, please.”

“I don't get it. You two are huggin' because you look like sisters you lost?” The stallion said.

Neither stabbing pain in her hoof, linguistic mystery, nor cynical mocking would take this moment away from her. She simply continued to hold Sweetie Belle and cry, rocking her side to side in the embrace, ever so slightly.

“I... also hope they're not just mistaken...” Gratitude carefully added to the stallion's remark.

The tent was cramped enough that there was hardly room for their bodies, never mind any privacy, so the stallion looked off to the side for the sake of their guest in a towel. With their words said, he and the medic felt no need to comment further, even as the embrace lasted.

“D-do you still know the -” Rarity was interrupted by another small batch of coughs.

The medic again held the cloth in front of her mouth for her, folded so past filth was hidden. “Oh, I'm glad you're happy, but I don't know if the excitement is good for you right now, you should take it easy if you can. We'll still be here when our sleep shift is over...”

The fit of coughs escelated until Rarity could hardly breathe, all the while Gratitide patted her back.

Sweetie Belle pulled away to look at her and listen, but still kept a foreleg on Rarity's shoulder. “Do I still know the what...?” she hesitantly asked.

Gratitude shot her a look.

Finally, the coughs subsided. “- the song?” Rarity finally finished croaking.

“What song, Grandeur? Oh I just love to say your name again!” Sweetie's voice was the same one she knew, but also deeper than Rarity remembered it, but it still broke and squealed in her moment of excitement as she gave her sort-of older sister another quick hug.

Rarity spoke gently, “Over the Rainbow... I'm... not Grandeur. And why... calling yourself Snowglade?” She paused, and her eyes went wide as she realized why the names might be off.

“I've never heard that song – and, you said that, but how do you recognize me if you're not Grandeur/Marsa?” Sweetie's confusion deepened.

As Rarity listened intently, she noticed she could even hear the word she didn't know – Marsa. The word meant 'beautiful majesty', and used as a name, made her think 'Grandeur'. But how are they understanding me, then? Did my comment about calling myself 'grand' not even make sense to them? “Uhm...” she paused, putting her good hoof to her throat and soothing it. “Speaking... different languages?” she asked.

“Yep.” Sergeant Courageous answered. “It's magic. Just don't take that necklace off. That's two things that aren't getting off your chest. And don't break it. Only a few exist. From The Abbess of The Adherents, herself.”

She looked down at her neckwear. She hadn't even felt a sapphire necklace sitting over her fire ruby peytral. How many different spells am I under, now? Shifting her focus away from her many pains, she started to sense just how much magic filled the area. She got the impression that there were multiple spells effecting not just her, but the area around her, and more than a few strongly-enchanted items.

He continued, “We'd be happy to explain more, miss Rarity, just as soon as we hear how in the world you wound up with a fire ruby, half-naked, somehow still alive in the downwind of Delphi, years after you vanished hundreds of miles from here.”

She shifted uncomfortably in the damp sleeping bag, wishing she could hide under all the blankets covering the floor from his piercing eyes. And I'd like to know why I'm wearing a towel – loincloth – diaper – THING – and everypony else gets decent clothes! On the other hoof, maybe I don't want to know...

Gratitude was still helping her sit up, and gave her back another pat-pat. “Now, sergeant, I'm not so sure she's ready for that. Whatever happened must have been awful, maybe we should explain ourselves a bit more, first...”

Rarity put a hoof on her warm fire ruby as she cleared her throat. Her airways still burned and stung like a hundred fresh cuts, and her chest felt little better. And this hard metal surface against my neck can't be helping... Without a thought, she started unclipping the peytral with her magic, preparing to slip it out from under the translating necklace. “Well –”

"Wait -!" "Stop -!" Both Gratitude and Snowglade objected, but it was too late, and the peytral was no longer touching Rarity's chest.

She was cut off by sharp gagging as she felt her lungs, throat, eyes, snout – every sensitive part of her body struck by an unbearable stabbing pain and burning, causing her to writhe in agony.

“Medic!” The sergeant snapped.

“Grandeur!” Sweetie Belle cried, springing up and leaning towards her, putting a hoof back over her shoulder.

Rarity's eyes were wide in shock as she struggled and failed to breathe.

Gratitude quickly caught her with one hoof and the fire ruby with the other and put it back on her.

The pain was instantly numbed again. She took sharp, raspy gasps and massaged her throat with a hoof. The other, bandaged hoof stung and curled around the foreleg Gratitude held the Peytral on with. Her pupils were still shrunken as she shook and her heart raced madly.

“Kind of you to demonstrate, but don't go dyin' on us,” the sergeant commented with relief.

The medic's voice was heavy with worry. “That fire ruby really must be how you survived out in Delphi's downwind. Are you alright? Can you breathe fine, now? Do you feel like you're getting enough air?”

“I – It burns...” Rarity whimpered, her ears folding down.

“I'm sorry, sweetie. But you don't feel like you can't get enough air, do you?”

Rarity shook her head.

“And the dizziness is going away?”

She nodded.

“Can you still see alright?”

She nodded again, still taking shaky, deep breaths as her heart raced.

“Then it'll be alright. Where did you get enchantments like this?” she asked, then quickly added, “We'll be sure to make sure it can work on you! We'd be honored to save a unicorn who needed us – never mind Snowglade's sister! Rarity – Grandeur, whichever it is, you're safe here.” She rubbed her back with the hoof that had clipped the peytral back on.

Rarity's irises relaxed, her wide-eyed shock at the sudden spasm of torment subsiding. But she was still shaking, and it could be heard in her scratched voice. She used words sparingly, often stopping to rest her throat, “I – a dear friend gave it... somewhere far away. I – I still don't... where am I?” She turned to the filly, “Sweetie Belle? Just – just by... another name? But... don't remember... I – I just don't... I can't...” her eyes were no longer looking at anything in particular.

The medic patted her back, pulling her over a little to let Rarity lean on her, “Confusion is a normal effect from smoke inhalation. Never mind all the other fumes in the downwind. It'll clear up soon. And then maybe when your throat's better you can tell us more about how you got here. It's okay, miss, it's okay, it's been an emotional roller coaster since you woke up, with pain, reunion, confusion – just take it easy.”

“Miss Rarity,” the stallion's voice addressed her again, strong and confident. “Do you even know what a downwind of a dome is?” he asked.

She hesitantly shook her head.

He continued, “I don't know what you know about the domes, so let me explain. They're mountain-sized magical barriers that keep the area warm, and let all kinds of filth out but not in. Naturally, the cities inside dump all their industrial fumes and waste across the barrier since it keeps it out, so when the smoke falls back down, the area downwind of and around a dome is full of very toxic smoke and fumes. That's the only reason you weren't found by Vanguard patrols. It's thick and ponies can't see in it, even with search lights. Fortunately, you were very far from the dome, and I guess your gem kept you alive.

“Now, we have tasks before us, and we're not going to abandon them just because you're with us. However, we're in a dangerous place, and you need to do everything we say, and nothing else, understood? You eat, sleep, wake up, drink, relieve yourself, get dressed, get undressed, shut up or speak up – everything on our schedule and as we do. If we're quiet, you be quiet or you could get us all killed, got it? And if you ever hesitate to do what we tell you in the moment we tell you to do it, you could cost us all a lot more than our lives.”

Gratitude shot him a sharp look.

Rarity looked at him wide-eyed.

Snowglade just put a comforting hoof on her sister's side, “It – it's all true.” The injured mare looked at her sister. “I work with these ponies, Grandeur. You can trust us. But we really will do everything we can to keep you safe.”

“Do trust us,” the sergeant commanded, “and we'll get you back to Bastion. We're in need of every unicorn we can get, even if they're practically mute and got torn hooves, and especially if they can evade Delphi's air patrols.”

“O-ohkay.” Rarity nodded, her expression finally, but tentatively coming out of panic again. She looked at her bandaged hoof. Slivers of red stained through the bandages where it stung.

“Why don't we do this a bit more of the normal way?” the medic suggested as she started rummaging through a pack next to Rarity, producing a canteen. She held it up in front of their injured guest and Snowglade. “Snowglade, warming spell for our guest?”

“Right away.” Her horn lit up.

Rarity could sense the familiar aura of Sweetie Belle's magic. “I know... that magic!... Sweetie... Not Snowglade.” Ugh, I sound like an absolute barbarian. Or like somepony who's mentally challenged, or a prairie pony...

Sweetie finished casting her spell on the canteen.

“I – but I told you, my name is Snowglade. I – did something mess with your memories? Maybe that gem or the smoke –”

“No, no, we'll worry about your memories later. For now, please just drink up and try to relax a little.” Gratitude offered Rarity the drink. “It's a hard mental task and you're really badly hurt. I'm just glad you're still with us.”

At first, Rarity took a small, dainty sip – but quickly lost her composure as thirst overwhelmed her and her throat's pain, and it turned into a desperate chugging of the warm water. She finished, blushing a little. I... may have lost control there and drank quite a bit, and that may have been a bit unladylike, but speaking of bad manners... “I was dressed... differently.”

“You were black with soot. I didn't even recognize you at first!” Snowglade piped in. “Nopony even believed me at first when I said you were still–”

“We're all just very lucky you survived. What we have on our hooves is a little miracle,” the medic cut off the filly again, markedly interrupting what was sure to be a disturbing description. “Your old clothes are in one of these bags. We didn't have the time or water to wash them, but the socks may be useful once we get the toxins out.”

“Toxins?” she asked, worry edging into her voice.

“Oh, yes...” Gratitude continued carefully. “The downwinds have some very nasty things in them. I really had to wash you off, and Snowglade made a heroic effort exhausting herself with warming spells so I could. But as soon as we could put you in the tent without contaminating it, we did.”

“And...” Rarity shuffled her back legs around, feeling the damp towel again. Maybe I don't want to know...

“Oh, I wasn't sure about your state – but more than that, I thought you'd be sweating those toxins out and getting them on anything you touch, and you did sweat very profusely while you were unconscious. Whatever clothes you're wearing now might be ruined, and we could do away with one of our two towels, but we don't have many clothes to spare.”

“Oh.” Rarity paused. “I'm literally toxic? I hugged Snowglade!” The fatigue on her throat was becoming unbearable, but she asked about her sister, anyways, but immediately felt the consequences. She fought to keep from coughing again, knowing the pain from a cough would drive her to cough even more.

“You might not have sweated it out... You sweated, but the ruby could also take care of it magically or send it to your kidneys – another reason I toweled you – but I honestly didn't know what it'd do. But it looked like you were coughing it out just now.” She gently let Rarity's hoof down, freeing a hoof to grab and look at the rag she'd let her patient cough into. “And even if you were sweating it out – that's why I was wiping your sweat off. Snowglade will be fine. It'd take a lot more than one touch to be very dangerous, anyways. And yeah – looking at the rag again, you're definitely coughing it out. Though maybe that's just what settled in your lungs...” She put the rag back away.

Gratitude continued, “But that friend of yours must be a great wizard. That's some very high-level magic, detoxifying you like that. Maybe even rivaling the translator necklace. As for your hoof, it took a really bad hit, and it looks like you kept running on it, after. That's bad. But maybe me and Snowglade can figure out a way to get the Fire Ruby to heal you, too, if the hoof injury ends up being a serious danger to the safety of the team by slowing us down too much.” Her expression switched to a sympathetic one again. “But I'm just glad you managed to make it out. The hoof is in bad shape, but you'd be in far worse shape if you didn't escape from The Vanguard...”

Rarity looked at her bandaged hoof again. It was a dull, throbbing sort pain now, but very strong. She didn't dare unwrap it to take a look. It was hard to distract herself, but she found as long as she was trying to make sense of the confusing world around her it hurt a little less.

“Anyways,” the medic continued, “We should probably get back to sleep. Let the ruby work more and those wounds heal. I'll get you some vegetable soup. You two can get back to sleep.” She nodded to Snowglade and the Sergeant.

“If my ponies are up, I'm up,” he answered.

“I – it's just for soup, right? I don't think I'll be falling asleep while she's awake – I get to finally talk to her again!” Snowglade replied. “...even if she can't talk very much right now... Just being around her – now that I know it's her! - is enough for me.”

Gratitude spoke as she reached in one of the many bags scattered about the edges of the tent, “Well, I'm as eager as everypony else to know how Grand– our guest got here, and what she remembers. But I think we're best off waiting until tomorrow when she's had some time to recover and think more clearly.” She produced a tiny can and a bowl, poured the can in, and began adding some water from a compartment in the bottom of the lantern. “Until then, I imagine you're in need of something to eat, drink – and to relieve yourself. I'll take you through how we handle that out here on the ice sheets. But if you can wait a minute for that, I'd like to get you some penicillin in case something somehow survived all those toxins and could start an infection, and I imagine you'd really like the soup, first.”

“Mmm”, she happily moaned an agreement. There were so many different pains across her body she could hardly recognize it, but since Gratitude poured the can, hunger had taken a front seat. “Perhaps... you explain... while I eat?” she asked. Like explain where we are, what you all are doing – and what that 'Bastion' place is?

Saying you're a medic, a sergeant and 'Snowglade' really doesn't tell me 'who' you are... Her throat hurt too badly, so at first she left her words at a bare, unexplained minimum. But she couldn't help but add, “Bastion?”

Gratitude gave her the bowl of soup, two pills and a spoon. "Those little things will help keep you from getting horrible diseases," the medic explained.

Rarity took them in her magic, took the pills and washed them down with the broth. Despite how much it scratched her throat to swallow, the hot, delicious vegetable soup felt like nothing short of a miracle in her world of pain.

As she ate, Gratitude explained, “Bastion is –" she glanced back at the sergeant, who was looking straight at her, "-it's a place we'll take you when we're done with our tasks. Assuming your health doesn't get worse. But from what Snowglade could tell, the ruby feeds off a reservoir of stored magic, not just your own, and the reservoir looked like it had a few weeks left on it. But if your health does decay... Maybe I could-” she stopped, thinking carefully for a moment before continuing, "... go back with you, while the rest of my team finishes their... tasks. Anyways, we're Ceruleans. That's what ponies from Bastion are called – or, ponies who seek to bring the Cerulean Skies once more, through harmony. Who believe Clover the Clever's journal, and adhere to it to some degree or other."

"Belle?" Rarity asked, looking at the young mare.

"Yep, I joined them. They're the ones who saved our town/shard-state, after all..." Snowglade's voice filled with emotion, "I was inspired by what a hero you were and... I wanted to keep things like that from happening to other towns on the ice sheets/shard-states."

Oh no. She thinks... I was a hero? she gave her a worried, sad look. How do I tell her that wasn't me?

"Did I... do something wrong?" Snowglade asked, mirroring some of Rarity's expression.

The older mare vigorously shook her head. "I just... I didn't..." her throat felt much better after the soup, but she still hesitated.

Gratitude interrupted, “Let's not worry about that, for now. You may still be confused from the fumes, injury, shock, even shell-shock, given your injuries... But once your throat and mind have had some more magic and rest, you can tell us a bit more about how you got here, because as the sergeant said, we're dying to know.”

Rarity felt her ears lower a little. She did feel the fog in her mind, but doubted the morning would make it any easier to explain that she wasn't Grandeur. But as she looked down at the warm soup Gratitude had given her, she realized she'd forgotten to say something. She didn't like the idea of being undressed, washed, diapered - or toweled - and put in a sleeping bag, all while unconscious. But as she saw Snowglade and felt hope for Sweetie Belle flicker again in her chest, she liked the alternative to being treated far worse. So she looked back up at the Redheart-pegasus-lookalike, and gently said, "thank you. For everything."

Gratitude smiled and her eyes shimmered. "You're welcome. This is what I'm here for. And thank you for staying with us. It looked hard, and it's not fully over yet, but it'll be worth it, I promise."