The Ghost Of You

by MadMan

Scarlet

Rarity begrudgingly opened her eyes. It was still dark, and very few ponies were awake yet. Looking up, Rarity guessed that it was an hour or two until dawn. She wanted to go back to sleep, but she knew that she couldn't. She had been lucky to get as much sleep as she had. She didn't sleep well anymore.

Most wouldn't have been surprised. They would say that it was expected to have trouble sleeping when your home had been invaded, and other sympathetic things. But it wasn't Axion, the invasion, or even the recent retreat that the entirety of Ponyville had done. No, it was something a little more personal.

Rarity grabbed Whispering Wind's armour from where it had spent the night, on the ground right next to her. She had cleaned it up and repaired it as much as possible, and it was quite serviceable. She liked using it. Not only was it very useful, but she felt that when she wore it, he was still there. Still whispering kind words, little pieces of advice, that in any other setting or subject, would have been very sweet. But he had been teaching her to kill, and no matter how nicely he said it, it was still a bit gruesome, however well he meant it. Rarity felt that his advice had helped keep her alive.

At least partially.

Rarity checked to make sure that all her arrows were present, then set off. The camp was still quiet, most ponies still sleeping off the long march just behind them. She noticed a few lingering eyes, but ignored them. They didn't understand. Reaching the edge of the camp, Rarity only had to share a glance with the perimeter sentry and he let her pass. She walked into the darkness.

She walked until the camp was far out of sight. Finding a clearing that satisfied her, Rarity stopped. The arrows levitated out of her quiver and stabbed themselves into the ground to her side, all except one. That one, she leveled out and pointed ahead. A large tree stood a good distance off, barely visible in the gloom. Rarity focused on the trunk until nothing else existed. The arrow shot off into the darkness.

Thwack.

The sound of metal biting wood echoed dully through the trees, and Rarity smiled. Lifting another arrow, she repeated the process.

Thwack.

Another target down. The next one followed more quickly.

Thwack.

Now that she was sighting in, the arrows came nonstop.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.Thwack.

Seizing a moment of boldness, Rarity lifted two arrows at once, sending one off a moment before the other.

Thwack-thwack.

She paused a moment, slightly surprised that both had found the target. Her smile grew wider as she grabbed seven more arrows, sending them off in rapid succession.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack.

Rarity scowled. She heard only six impacts. Casting a light at the tip of her horn, she walked towards the tree, intending on finding the wayward projectile. While not being prohibitively expensive or difficult to make, they were certainly valuable, and wasting the smithy's time while he had better things to be making would be selfish on her part.

Reaching the tree she had been aiming at, Rarity had to pause and admire her work. None of the arrows were more than head height, and only two were lower than her torso. Mostly kill shots, made in the dark at a good distance. Rarity had a small surge of pride as she continued past the tree, scanning the ground ahead.

She found the arrow, and began walking back to her spot. She was intending on getting in as much practice as she could while the camp was stationary. There was no telling if or when they would have to move or fight again, and Rarity was going to do everything she could to protect those she cared about.

Rarity grabbed the spears embedded in the tree as she walked past, wrenching them out of the bark with slightly more force than was strictly necessary, but she barely noticed. It was happening again. Her mind began to twist. Rarity was back at the spot she had been standing at previously, but as she looked around, she didn't see any trees. She looked in the direction that her target tree had been, but she couldn't see it. The forest around her had disappeared.

All she could see was the battlefield, and each tree had become one of those creatures from Axion's army, except much more massive. They towered over Rarity, mouths agape to display fearsome fangs. Soft growls reached her ears, and Rarity began to tremble, feeling the first vestiges of fear. But before she was crippled by terror, Rarity remembered that she was no longer the mare she was before, and she was armed. The creatures began to charge, but they couldn't move nearly as fast as Rarity's magic.

The first spear found the creature directly in front of her in the chest. It coughed blood, thick and black, before falling. The others didn't seem to notice, but they began to when the arrows pierced their body. They had Rarity surrounded, but that just meant she could throw in every direction. The four in front, dead. Two to the right, dead. Three to the left, then another on the right. Spinning around, she sent arrows into the eyes of the four who had hoped to sneak up on her.

Spinning around again, Rarity found herself looking up at the largest of them all. He loomed over her, saliva dripping from his curved fangs. Despite the fact that most ponies would have run away crying, Rarity hesitated only for a moment. A larger enemy meant a larger target. She hefted all the arrows she had left, and with a fearsome battle cry, sent all ten of them straight into it's throat. They ripped through flesh and bone, and the creature's eyes were wide with surprise when the head landed in front of Rarity, a moment before the body collapsed, spasming and spurting blood from the severed neck.

The field now silent, Rarity closed her eyes and hung her head. She knew that this was a vision, a hallucination, but that didn't make it any less real to her. She kept seeing the battle, kept reliving it, over and over. Each time it grew in severity. Even though it was just a vision, Rarity didn't want to find out what would happen should she let one of them kill her. But that wasn't what scared Rarity.

Opening her eyes, Rarity summoned a magical mirror as tall as she was. The mirror showed her a mare, tall and regal. Her coat was a glossy grey of polished metal, her eyes a beautiful sky blue. Her mane and tail were billowing and voluptuous, dark purple with a wide white streak. Rarity loved her image as much as it scared her. She wondered if she looked like this to everypony else, or if this was a part of her hallucinations as well. She hoped not, she could design some excellent armour for this body.

Dispelling the mirror, Rarity closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She felt her heartbeat slow, and felt the madness leave her head, when she opened her eyes, she was in the forest as proper. The sun was just beginning to rise, and Rarity was able to look around and see that all her arrows had been embedded in the trees around her. Two had gone so deep that they broke when she tried to remove them, but she retrieved the rest. Digging the two metal tips out of the trunks, Rarity put her backpiece on and put the arrows in the quivers. She turned and headed back to camp, leaving several slightly destroyed trees behind.

Author's Note:

Okay, I had the image for Rarity's "transformation" pretty close to this before I ever realized it was a thing. I just changed mine a bit into this because, well, she's such a beautiful character.

I had no idea there was a real Nightmare Rarity in the comics, so don't expect any similarities other than her looks.

On that note, I am so totally going to go read those comics. Such a badass design, I must know more.

Comments

[Astarea]

Rarity - Generous with death.