The Gem

“So, I have come up with a few variations of the base tune and some changes to the lyrics," said Rarity, shuffling her hoof-scribbled sheet music in front of her sister. “I think you will like them.”

“O-okay...” stammered Sweetie Belle.

“I know I am not half the musician you are, but you have taken my song and made it into something else. I even found myself humming your version the other day. After having such a lovely song play through my head, I decided to make some choice changes.” Rarity smiled, beaming with pride. “Oh, isn’t this fun? Two sisters in the troughs of creation, the embrace of inspiration—standing atop a palette of colour,” she said, letting herself trail off in thought.

Sweetie Belle sniffled, wiping her eyes.

“Darling, is there something wrong? We don’t have to sing if you don’t want to.”

“N-no, I want to.” She broke down even further, despite efforts to stifle her sobs. “It’s just—I really love you sometimes. Like a whole lot.” Sweetie Belle surprised her sister with a sudden, loving embrace. “Thank you so much for singing with me...”

In the candlelight, the minotaur slammed the counter again. His iron palm cracked the glass casing and splintered the wooden supports.

He laughed, and beneath that laughter belied a menacing spite for his customer. All Rarity wanted to know was how much a little rock cost and this venerable, and admittedly terrifying, antique collector just laughed in spitefulness. If he wasn’t a combination of pure muscle, sharpened horns, and unrelenting malice, she would have been quite offended, put off even. However, he was all those things. And him being all those things had caused her to decide, quite lucidly, to forget her own birthday out of complete fear.

This was the last time she took Twilight Sparkle on a shopping trip.

When Rarity thought ‘shopping trip’, she imagined fashion boutiques aligned with dresses of bold patterns and colours. There would be trendy necklaces set upon glowing, white displays. Mirrors would be used to accent and expand the piece. There would be proper lighting and sanitation.

And agreeable sales representatives.

And sanitation.

But no, Rarity was not on that type of shopping trip. She was in some run-down, dusty, old antique store being belittled by a minotaur for making the horribly misinformed decision of trying to shop, and, while the decor and owner were troubling in themselves, it was mostly the dust that did her in.

There was something to be said about the magnitude of the dust in store; it was over-exaggerated. Rarity was not the kind of pony to use such a phrase lightly either. The term exaggerate meant ‘in excess’, and to overdo it was excessive excess. That made the entire statement, "over exaggerated", redundant, but when she saw that a caked-on layer of dust had become dusty itself, she gave up on reason. She was going to describe the dusty dust to be excessively excessive and nopony was going to stop her.

She liked to consider herself an agile, graceful pony that could sidestep any of these growing dust habitats with ease.

...in proper lighting.

She had noticed the dismal candlelight, which reached about chest high on her, the second she walked in. What she hadn’t noticed was that beneath the blanket of darkness was what could best described as ‘endless piles of useless junk’—this minotaur was a hoarder.

As she had walked through the store, Rarity was sure that each thing she unknowingly bumped into on the floor was some priceless artifact with a fascinating history, but at this point in time, she really didn’t care. They were leaving dust smears on her pristine coat.

Terrified, dirty, and more than a little peeved, Rarity watched as the monster store owner came down from his laughing fit.

“One does not simply buy a soul gem,” snarled the minotaur.

By this point in time Rarity had degenerated into a complete, shaking coward, mumbling one terrified, run-on babble after another. The minotaur growled at her and she jumped reflexively with a small squeal. He chuckled.

This was definitely the last shopping trip she’d ever take Twilight on.

Speaking of that unicorn, where was she? Rarity knew that she was off looking at the books he’d collected, but knowing where she was wasn’t the real issue. The issue was, why wasn’t she saving Rarity from this monster?

What was taking her so long? Twilight could read a dozen books in a day. How long could it take her to just browse a small shelf of them? Thinking again, Twilight probably got sucked into the first book she picked.

The minotaur half-growled, half-barked at Rarity again, reminding her that she should resume being terrified and cease contemplating her friend’s reading speed. She squeaked. Rarity looked in dread at the beast, her eyes becoming misty as though she were being sentenced to death.

“I’m guessing you want to trade me some arbitrary amount of bits for it?” he growled from his throat, ending the tense silence.

That was the general idea of selling something—currency for product, but Rarity saw a dilemma. A soul gem was obviously something special, and it could be the case that they aren’t usually traded for bits. Rarity couldn’t imagine what else it would be traded for, but then again, she didn’t know magic. Now, she could say ‘yes’ and admit to knowing nothing about soul gems. That would paint her as a vain, ignorant collector. Or she could say ‘no’ and indirectly waste the owner’s time. There was also the possibility that she was imagining this dilemma and that the minotaur could have anger management issues he was trying to get over, but that would have been far too reasonable.

The minotaur was silent as he awaited her answer. She wanted to look away, but his golden eyes locked her in place. She became lost in them, those two burning, amber pools with just a hint of red around the pupil. Rarity didn’t remember it later, but she had nodded, saying ‘yes’, and affirming that she wanted to buy the soul gem with bits. She also didn’t remember the teardrops that fell from her cheeks.

The two sparkling drops fell quickly to the floor, only catching a flash of the twinkling candlelight.

The owner grinned wickedly.

“Thirty bits—take it and never bring it back here.”

Immediately, Rarity scrambled to levitate her coin purse from her saddlebags, but fumbled the buckle a few times, flopping the straps around. Even after getting it open, she still struggled to finish her transaction.

The minotaur heard the curious clanking of metal against glass come from below. Peering over the counter he saw her coin purse tap lightly against the glass over and over again like a confused bird hitting a window. Rarity had become so incoherent that even basic levitation was beyond her. Eventually, she managed to fly the coins onto the table, spilling them out in front of him. The bag, still in her magical grasp, dragged across the counter and plunged into the darkness thereafter.

He glanced over the gold, mentally accounting for her debt. She had overpaid him by ten bits, but he didn’t mind. He retrieved the garnet soul gem from the case and waited for her to take it from him.

By this point Rarity’s mind had gone completely blank in fear. She saw her prize pinched between the minotaur’s pointed and index finger. The maroon stone twinkled in the light and all she had to do to leave was levitate it from his grip.

After waiting a bit too long, the minotaur decided to reach over the counter and place the rock in her bag himself. He gave her a few pseudo-affectionate pats on the head in appreciation of her business and terrified amusement.

Each time the monster touched her, her life flashed before her eyes. She saw all dresses she’d never get to make, all the high-society functions she’d never get to go to, her family, and other requisite meaningful stuff. She also had a box of chocolates at home, and she really, really wanted to eat those—all of them by the end of tomorrow if she could.

By the time Rarity was mentally writing her own eulogy, she was already outside and Twilight was talking at her about something. She was waving a musty old book at Rarity, which wasn’t unusual.

Rarity caught the word ‘diary’ among her friend's distantly perceived rants.

It was good that she was there though. Seeing and remembering that Twilight was a pony that existed had helped to pull Rarity out of her fearful reverie. Now in control of her senses again, she could compose herself.

“"T-Twi... Twilight... j-just stop talking. Give me a moment, please...?!”

Twilight tried to say something, but Rarity held her hoof up, shushing the unicorn. Of all her techniques to regain composure, she opted to use the cleverly named, ‘Take a deep breath and release it in a whiney squeal’ technique.

As she slowly released her breath, she felt her recent memories come back to her. She remembered walking in the store and not seeing the owner, Twilight pranced around making a ruckus, the minotaur stepping out of the shadows in an impossibly creepy way, and Twilight basically interrogating him in regards to his books. He had responded with anger, rudeness and intimidation. Rarity had started crying... something else had happened, and now she was outside with a unicorn who was completely oblivious to the concept of peril. It all made sense, oddly enough.

She turned to face Twilight, who had watched her intently as she exhaled her whiney squeal.

"I apologize for being terse with you, but I needed to compose myself," said Rarity, trotting forcefully back to the main street, chin held up high. "You know, darling. There is an extremely valuable lesson about the appropriate use of voice inflections, volume, and silence for various scenarios that I simply must share with you one day," she scolded.

Twilight blushed sheepishly and followed her friend. Back on the beaten path, Rarity found the heart to grace her friend with a response.

“So, you bought an old diary?”

“Mmmhmm! It’s over seven hundred years old!” Twilight chimed in.

Rarity sat at her kitchen table later that night with her sister, a single lamp’s light shining down on the two. In silence, they worked on their projects for the night. Rarity tentatively fiddled her dull, maroon souvenir, taking some cloth and jeweling wax to it. While the uncut, smooth surfaces could be brought to a shine, the inner prism remained forever cloudy and opaque.

Sweetie Belle sat across the table, quietly drawing with a few crayons. She set down the crayon from her mouth and lazily examined her work.

“So, what does it do? It’s a soul gem, it has to do something amazing, right?” she asked without looking up.

Rarity yet again scrubbed it rather vigorously without result. She lightly gritted her teeth.

“Twilight said she doesn’t know.”

“Yeah, right. Twilight knows everything.”

Rarity narrowed her eyes but remained focused on the gem. “Sweetie Belle, that is not very nice. Twilight wouldn’t lie to me. If she says she doesn’t know, then that means she doesn’t,” asserted Rarity half-heartedly.

“Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s quite alright. I, myself, was surprised by Twilight’s unusual lack of knowledge. She said it was harmless, but to refrain from attempting any complex or unusual spells.”

Sweetie Belle didn’t respond, instead going back to her drawing. They sat in silence. Rarity enjoyed the company of her sister in these quieter moments. Usually, she liked talking and asking Sweetie Belle about her day, but right then the silence was comfortable. A subtle smile crept up her face as she thought to the future. Someday Sweetie Belle would grow up, move out, and never turn back. She’d leave poor Rarity behind, and Rarity would beg for her little sister to come back and spend time with her. She often took these moments for granted, but she knew she’d cherish them when they were gone.

“No matter how much I try, I cannot bring this gem’s sparkle out,” Rarity commented. “I was hoping Twilight may have been misinformed, but she told me that the only way to really get it back to luminosity is by collecting a soul in it. I think she’s right.”

“Maybe that’s all it does. You capture a soul and it gets really sparkly.”

“Perhaps... It is a brilliant gem in itself, but the inside is just so murky.”

“It sounds like you need a soul. Maybe you could go steal Diamond Tiara’s.”

“Sweetie Belle,” she warned. “It’s not very nice to suggest trapping your schoolmates’ souls—no matter how nasty or rude they are.” Rarity scratched her chin. “Yet, if I were to leave one day and come back to see it glimmering, I wouldn’t ask questions.”

Sweetie Belle giggled. “Maybe you can trap yourself in it! Didn’t I ask you one time if you’d trade your soul for the shiniest gem in the world? What did you say again?” She looked up at the corner in feigned thoughtfulness.

Rarity bit her lip and kept her eyes fixed on the rock. “I uh, can’t seem to recall. I couldn’t imagine ever agre—”

“Oh wait, I remember! You said only if it matched your mane or cutie mark.”

Sweetie Belle gave her sister a big toothy grin. Rarity glowered in return.

“Am I not the luckiest pony to have a sister with such a superb memory? Who else would remind me of all my questionable musings?”

“I dunno, Opal?”

“Didn’t one time—” started Rarity. She cut herself off as she saw a tiny glint of light come from the stone out of her peripheral vision.

A few moments later, a brilliant eruption of colour painted the entire room in technicolour. Light spewed like a fountain, arcing up and around them. In the center, Rarity saw the shapes of two ponies closely nuzzling each other. One of them looked at her, and then her stomach, the implied line of its vision piercing her gut. The effect was silent, but in the silence her breathing grew louder. Every deep, full breath she took expanded the line in her stomach into an enlarging circle. She felt the circle come to encompass all of her being.

And then it was over. The light was gone.

Rarity blinked and looked up at Sweetie Belle whose eyes were also glued to the gem.

Sweetie Belle blinked. “Did you see that?”

“I did...”

Rarity considered the many things she could have done at that moment. Screaming at the top of her lungs and tossing the rock out the window held immediate appeal, but something stopped her. It would have made sense for her to be afraid, but she wasn’t for some reason—at least not yet. No, she was curious and fatalistic. It wasn’t everyday that something so magical came into a pony’s possession.

It had a part to play in this world, and she wanted to know if that part involved her.

Also, it would do nothing for Sweetie Belle’s nerves for her to flip out because of a rock. She might develop a fear of rainbows or fountains if Rarity made too big of a deal about it.

“Well, it was probably nothing,” said Rarity with an unconvincing smile. “Probably just a quirk of a soul gem. If a pony’s soul used to reside in it, I’m sure it must have its own little personality. Nothing to worry about, Sweetie!”

Sweetie Belle nodded slowly before picking the crayon back up and returning to her drawing.

Rarity ripped open the drawer to her nightstand and chucked the rock in it before slamming it back shut. She kept her magical grip on the handle, pushing her back to the drawer. She stared off into space as she contemplated what to do next.

She had a very special protocol for handling situations she didn’t deal with on a daily basis. At some point in time, there would be a ‘flip out’ session consisting of general yelling, screaming, and running in circles. Whether that would be as the situation happened or some time later, that was always the first step. After which, she’d ask Twilight to fix it for her.

Rarity usually stopped after those two steps, because Twilight was a doll about things, most of the time.

Sometimes Twilight refused though, and Rarity would have to resort to step three, blackmailing Twilight with pictures from her Nightmare Night After Party. Somehow Twilight and Rainbow Dash had managed to fall asleep in the same bed, cuddling one another. When they woke up, Twilight blushed, Rainbow freaked out, and Rarity snapped a photo.

As Rarity’s eyes adjusted to the pitch blackness of her room, the sound of her own breathing became loud again. It was unnatural, deafening even. Her head spun and she slumped a little bit against the nightstand. Faint red light began to shine through the cracks of the drawer.

“Twilight said that it only sparkles when a soul is trapped inside it...” she said quietly to herself. There was something sinister about the way those words rolled off her tongue.

Only moments after disorienting her, the rock made its presence known again and Rarity fell into a deeper madness.

The humble nightstand began to grow in the darkness of the room, reaching at least seven feet tall. Long, spindly shadows sprouted up alongside it, surrounding and caging Rarity. She turned around and screamed at the glowing drawer. Rarity felt her heart beating louder and louder. A single bead of sweat ran down her forehead. She wiped it away, baffled.

A lady never breaks out in sweat.

Her vision became distorted. While the red light of the rock stayed the same, everything else turned black and white. It was grainy and speckly like the low quality cinematography from long ago. The effect was complete with screen tears and a dip in the frames-per-second of her natural vision. Keeping very much with the style, her room transformed into an old movie set, silently and instantly.

Twisted imitations replaced everything; her bed, her clothes, her decorations, everything. She let out a silent gasp as she laid her eyes on her cork board photo collage.

They were of someone else.

The ponies in the photos resembled her friends. They were loosely the same colour, and in the same positions, but she knew they weren’t the ponies she knew and loved. What was worse was that their eyes seemed to follow her about her room. Or at least, what used to be her room.

She was no longer in her own room or house. Instead, she was on a cheap movie set, a replica that would fool anyone besides her. The feeling of being lost crept into her heart. She wanted it to stop. The gem wouldn’t let it though. Behind the drawer sealed in red light, it taunted her. It told her that it knew she was there, and that she was afraid.

She was no one to argue either. In the alien room, uncertainty, if not complete paranoia, was the implicit precedent.

“It’s just a silly, diminutive, insignificant rock!” she shouted from beneath the covers of her bed some time later.

Almost as if taken aback by her harsh words, the gem returned the world to normal. She blinked and her room was just as she remembered it. The alien ponies in the pictures were gone. She shifted uncomfortably. Clammy, gross sweat rolled down across her chest and legs. She unwrapped herself from her many blankets. Only then did she realize she had inexplicably crawled into her bed.

“Dearest...” said Rarity. “How did I get up here?” Her uncertainty was compounded with this new positioning.

Ponies don’t just end up somewhere else. Naturally, her mind, like any pony else’s would, searched for an answer. She had either teleported, or forgotten something she shouldn’t have. The first and most reasonable explanation was the soul gem had done something, but she wasn’t willing to admit that yet. Twilight told her it was harmless as long as she didn’t do anything magical to it, and questioning her best friend was simply not an option.

“Rarity, you mustn’t let such silly ideas seed themselves in your mind. Self-fulfilling prophecies are self-fulfilling prophecies are self-fulfilling prophecies,” she repeated to herself. “You let one little glimmer get to you and the next thing you know, you’re making tea and throwing parties for all the voices in your head.” She chuckled nervously.

She probably had one good nerve left before she had a complete meltdown. A knock at her bedroom door nearly tore said nerve from her skull. Rarity screamed, pulling a mound of pillows over her head.

“Rarity?! Are you okay?! I heard you screaming!” exclaimed Sweetie Belle, opening the door.

Rarity peeked out of her small pillow bunker and saw her sister. “Oh, that? That was just uhh... some late-night singing practice!” she lied.

“Really? Can I join?! It’s been forever since we sang together!”

Rarity laughed and twirled her mane. “Oh, it’s far too late, and I think I’m all done for the night. My voice is shot and I’m exhausted from my outing with Twilight.” She feigned a stretch and yawned. “I apologize, but I’d like to sleep now.”

“Oh, okay. Maybe tomorrow then?”

“Singing tomorrow with my little sister? I think that sounds lovely.”

She smiled. “Awesome! Thanks, sis. Love you, good night!”

“Good night, little sister. I love you, too.”

Sweetie Belle closed the door and went back to her room. Rarity looked at the drawer. An unusual exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave. Now that she thought about it, she was probably just seeing things out of mild exhaustion. Her eyelids dropped like rocks, and she passed out.

It was a single, swift, and calculated motion. With over a decade of experience, every tiny muscle and fiber in her foreleg knew its place; a tweak of the hoof here, a leveraging there, and then the curl. After a dab of gel and a few clouds of hair spray, Rarity’s mane sat ready, awaiting her move.

She picked up her brush slowly with a glint in her eye.

In one seamless movement, she dramatically swept her brush upwards, downwards, and outwards. The tension in her mane built like a spring. She held it there for a half second and then let go, letting the upper section of her mane bounce into its trademark style. She then threw the brush to the other hoof and continued the elegance with another grand, sweeping motion and tug. Almost as if by magic, her lower mane bounced into its trademark flawless curl.

In the span of five seconds she accomplished a style that would have taken most mares hours to even attempt. Rarity ended with a stunning pose and caught the eye of the beautiful mare in the bathroom mirror.

“Fabulous.”

She opened the door and released a nauseating blend of a half-dozen body scents and hair sprays, nearly knocking out Sweetie Belle. The foal had been waiting there for almost an hour, towels slung over her back.

"Finally, you're done!" said Sweetie Belle, covering her nose.

Rarity posed. "Yes, I am finished, and looking utterly divine. Please, do not refrain from admiring me.”

"Oh, brothe—" She coughed and choked on the hair product vapours.

"Sister. Oh, sister," she corrected. “Hmm, the look of disgust riddled across your face is giving me inspiration, oddly enough. Sweetie Belle, allow me to indulge, I simply must style your mane today,” said Rarity with sisterly authority.

“Later. I’m doing some crusading today and I’d hate to ruin your hard work on that.” Sweetie Belle scratched at the carpet. “B-but we’re still singing today, right?!”

“Of course we are! And doing each other’s manes it seems. I myself have a few errands to take care of, but later, it’s a date. Perhaps around five today?”

“Okay. Yeah, we’re crusading to Zecora’s today. Scootaloo thinks we can try being sorceresses!”

“Well, that sounds like a smashing time!” Rarity said, heading out the door. “Tell Zecora I said hi!”

Sweetie Belle trailed after her. “Wait, I was hoping you could come with me! At least to Zecora’s hut. We could sing on the way!”

Rarity peered back through the doorway. “Aren’t you going with your friends?”

“They’re probably already there by now.”

Rarity scratched the back of her ear. The last time she went through that tangle, she scuffed her coat and chipped a hoof.

“I erhm—apologize, I can’t,” she lied.

Today, Rarity had many important things to do: she had a Twilight Sparkle to hassle mercilessly about a questionable magic artifact that she had freely let Rarity take home, a Fluttershy to gossip with at the spa, and a house in which to lounge about for a few hours. All of them were too important and enticing to be ruined by a trek through the woods. Also, there were chocolates she needed to eat.

Sweetie Belle looked down.

Rarity gave her a comforting laugh, and bat her hoof at the air. “Oh, don’t worry, the route to Zecora’s is traversed regularly now since she opened her business! There are signs and lanterns for heaven’s sake. You’ll be alright, I promise.”

“Are you sure you can’t come...?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m already running late. I’ll see you later tonight, love,” said Rarity with a warm wink before leaving through the door.

Sweetie Belle cracked a weak smile. “Yeah, okay.”

Rarity banged on the door to Twilight’s library. A few moments later, she met the face of the baby dragon.

“Whoa, hey there, Rarity! Uhh, what brings you around?” he asked, smoothing his scales back and blushing slightly.

“Good morning, Spike! Looking as dashing and scarlet as ever.” She patted him playfully on the head. “Tell me, is Twilight home? I desperately need to talk with her about something.”

“Oh... She’s still sleeping,” he replied, sulking a bit. His hopes to roleplay a pincushion had been clearly dashed.

“But—it’s almost eleven...” Rarity raised a brow. “She couldn’t still be asleep at this hour, could she?”

“Take it up with her.”

Rarity wasn’t the kind of pony to question her friends, but she did suspect something was out of the ordinary. It was late in the day, and Twilight was usually a morning pony. Maybe she had stayed up all night studying and was catching up on missed sleep. Rarity recalled her finding a seven hundred year-old diary, so maybe she had spent all night reading that.

Yet, Twilight always stayed up late to study and hadn't woken up any later.

Rarity heard loud snoring from the depths of the library—it was Twilight. Whatever her reason to sleep in so late, there was no arguing with that. Spike looked up at her, folding his arms.

“Indeed, well I may be around later today, Spike.”

“Fluttershy is also sleeping?” said Rarity in disbelief. It was almost noon now.

Angel nodded his head.

Rarity gave him a cross look. Angel was, most certainly, not her friend. He was an acquaintance if anything, and that meant she could interrogate him mercilessly for information.

“Did she have a particularly late night or something comparable? Fluttershy is almost always up at the crack of dawn caring for you woodland critters.”

He shrugged.

“But we have a spa date! Fluttershy wouldn’t just shrug that off in pursuit of leisure,” Rarity whined. “I demand to see her at once.”

Angel stood his ground, crossing his arms. Something about the way he presented himself was oddly daunting. He managed to block off the entire doorway with his small form.

“Angel, step aside. The poor thing will thank me for getting her up and about. I know it’s a lazy Sunday, but that is no excuse to spend all day sleeping your heart away.”

Rarity managed the courage to trot straight past Angel and into the cottage. He tried to stop her, pulling on her hooves and jumping on her back, but she was able to ignore him.

She walked up to the bedroom.

“Flutter, darling?” she cooed through the door.

No response. She knocked a few times. Angel continued to thump angrily on her back. Rarity didn’t mind it. On the contrary it was actually a little better than the massages at the spa.

His soft, but firm, feet were excellent at kneading the knotted muscles in her back. She’d have to make a note of that for future business prospects—angry bunny massages.

“It’s Rarity. May I come in?”

Still no response. Rarity sighed and opened the door.

Fluttershy was sleeping on her bed, yet Rarity could never say the pegasus ever did anything so simply. She was a work of art, an in-depth study into the form of grace and delicacy. Her buttery coat gleamed as the midday sun poured through the windows. It bloomed yellow light onto the surrounding bedding and furniture. Her mane accentuated every curve and contour of her body, never disturbing any distinct feature. Only a small dollop of hair sat across her forehead, eclipsing one eye. Her form rose and fell ever so slightly as she snored a light, harmonious note. Just seeing her inspired a dress idea for Rarity.

She sighed at the divine scene.

She also sighed as Angel thumped a knot out of her lower back.

“Oh, Fluttershy. You will never know how much I envy your subtlety, your delicacy, your grace,” whispered Rarity to herself with a blush. “Your—”

Fluttershy muttered something in her sleep.

“Lu... Luna.”

Rarity’s eyes grew wide.

Being the well-read pony she was, she knew of Princess Luna’s dream walking talent. It was wholly unlikely that Luna was communicating with Fluttershy by medium of a dream at that very moment, but there was certainly a romance to the idea that Rarity couldn’t resist. She liked to pretend her life was a fantasy novel for reasons that still weren't clear to her.

“Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “Please excuse me for intruding. I had no idea I was in the presence of a princess. Carry on.”

Rarity quickly trotted downstairs and vacated the cottage. Angel let a door slam audibly remind her of the rudeness of waltzing into someone's house uninvited.

Rarity considered what had caused everyone to sleep in so late. Either everyone had conspired against her to make her think that sleeping in was the new fad, or sleeping in had become the new fad. Rarity shuddered at the thought of being a ‘morning pony’ from then on.

"Well, everyone else is doing it... and I’d hate to be behind on the times.”

Rarity fluttered her eyes in the light of the late afternoon sun, awaking from a lovely nap. She took a deep breath of her clean, freshly fragranced pillows.

After assuring that her pillows still smelled wonderfully minty, she reached over to her nightstand and picked up her current novel, The Last Dream of the Concubine. It was about a mare who found love in a stallion who only lived in her dreams. It was suitable reading for what had turned out to be a very sleepy day.

Hours passed in minutes as she was drawn ever deeper into the fantasy of the story. Pages flew by, and before she knew it, the sun was almost setting.

Her stomach rumbled. That box of chocolates from an unknown admirer was as delicious as she had hoped for, but now she craved real food. Perhaps Sweetie Belle would have a request for dinner. If not, it would be quiche again.

She trotted to the balcony of the main gallery. “Sweetie Belle?!” she called out through her boutique. “Sweetie, love, what would you like me to cook you for dinner?!”

Silence.

“Sweetie Belle?! Are you here?!”

Rarity tentatively listened for even the slightest peep, but there wasn’t one. She slowly walked around the house, searching in each room. The kitchen, the showroom, and the filly’s own room were all empty. A tinge of worry overtook her, but she quickly dismissed it. Sweetie Belle had probably just gotten distracted.

Rarity let out a sharp sigh and frowned. The afternoon felt wasted now; she hadn’t done anything all day. Duets and singing lessons with Sweetie Belle were going to be her concession to such leisure, but she wouldn’t even get to do that now.

It was almost six. Sweetie Belle was an hour late. Maybe she could still go out and fetch her and make it up to her, but it wasn’t likely. It was a school night, and Sweetie needed to be in bed soon. A little sullen, she went for the door, but not before catching herself in the mirror on the way out.

“Still fabulous,” she said half-heartedly to herself. After bouncing her mane a few times she called out. “Opal, momma’s going out! She’ll be back soon!”

By the time she had reached Sweet Apple Acres, her pace had escalated to a racing gallop. It never took long for Rarity to start imagining the worst possible scenarios. Given the circumstances, those scenarios became dreadful, if not repulsive, rather quickly. Maybe it was her inclination to drama, but images of Sweetie Belle with a broken leg or a prank by Diamond Tiara gone horribly wrong kept surfacing.

Her sister was now two hours late coming home. That wasn’t completely unheard of, but Sweetie Belle was never, ever late for alone time with her big sister. Rarity knew she wasn’t just being conceited either. Sweetie Belle was known to lie impulsively to get days off from school just to spend time with Rarity. She had dropped her friends early upon hearing her big sister had some free time on multiple occasions. Sweetie Belle was borderline obsessed and it was almost becoming problematic.

More importantly, that sort of fanatical drive doesn’t just ‘get distracted.’

Rarity slowed down to a trot as she approached the front door of Sweet Apple Acres. She pounded away at the screen door. If any ponies knew where Sweetie Belle was, it’d be Applejack or her little sister. The clubhouse was close enough, and for some reason, the girls never went over to Scootaloo’s house.

She took a deep breath as she heard Applejack approach from inside. Applejack opened the door, looking genuinely happy, if not a little surprised to see the unicorn.

“Well, howdy, Rare. What brings you ‘round?”

“Good evening, Applejack. I just came by to see if Sweetie Belle is here.”

“Uhh, she ain’t here ‘less she’s hidin’ real good.” Applejack chuckled. “Why?”

“Well, she hasn’t come home yet.”

Immediately, Applejack’s eyes narrowed.

Rarity knew her friend was much more practical pony than herself, and that behind those emerald eyes, she was analyzing. When Applejack had a problem, she fixed it. She didn’t talk about it any more than she needed to, she just dealt with it.

“Hmm, that’s mighty strange, ‘cause Applebloom is here and all,” she said finally.

There was an awkward silence. Rarity saw her friend read the worry that must have been pouring off her face.

“Ya know what? Let me get my sis out here, she’ll know.” Applejack turned her head back inside. “Applebloom!”

Moments later, the foal came scampering in around Applejack’s hooves. “Yeah, sis?”

“Rarity here is lookin’ fer Sweetie Belle. Do ya know where she’s at?”

The moment of truth came all too quickly for Rarity. Somepony should have warned her, told her that she was about to have her life flipped upside down. Applebloom should have said it slower, or quieter—anything to blunt the shock.

“Ah din’t see her all day,” she said honestly.

Rarity gagged while her stomach rose. She felt bile sting the back of her throat, but suppressed the gag, and kept it in her mouth. Her face twisted up in discomfort for a second, but she maintained a smile—for the foal’s sake.

“Rare... where did Sweetie tell you she was goin’ today?” asked Applejack.

“She was supposed to meet us at Zecora’s hut, but she never showed,” interrupted Applebloom.

Applejack locked eyes with Rarity. She saw Applejack stare into her, looking for her reaction. Rarity was sure she found it, as subtlety was not her strong suit right now. Perhaps it was the trembling that gave it away, or her misty, teary eyes. Whatever it was, Applejack responded swiftly.

“Thanks, sis. Now go back inside—me and Rare hafta talk alone,” she said.

Applebloom only caught a hint of the severity of the situation and left them with a puzzled look on her face. Maybe later, they’d tell her, but not then.

Rarity was now on the verge of a mental breakdown, and Applejack could feel it. She led her to a bench on the porch.

“Rare, Ah know that look when Ah see it. Don’t you start gettin’ all crazy, ya hear?” she warned.

Rarity nodded, rocking back and forth, her face twisting up more and more with each passing second.

“Ah think y’all need ta take a couple of deep breaths.”

Rarity tried and expelled a few whimpers. All thoughts were now on her sister, alone and afraid in the Everfree Forest. Her mind gave her no rest as it conjured one horrible, gruesome scene after another. She clenched her eyes at one involving a pack of manticores.

“Swell. So, Sweetie Belle didn’t come home, right?” said Applejack, clarifying the information.

“Correct,” squeaked Rarity through her suppressed whimpers.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“10:30. She was frolicking off to the Everfree Forest.”

Rarity figured that Applejack must have mistaken her sarcasm for something else, because the next thing she said was not comforting in the slightest.

“So, she’s been missin’ for almost ten hours in Everfree? That’s a mighty long time— but Ah’m sure she’s okay!” she corrected.

Hearing the words, ‘ten hours in Everfree,’ cut her last thread to sanity.

Rarity stopped rocking, her mouth slack and her eyes frozen on the ground. "Ten hours...?" she said, her voice low and cracked.

Applejack's eyes shifted back and forth, searching her friend's inert expression. "Rare?" She poked her with a hoof. "Hey, Rarity, are you oka—"

“Oh my goodness, Applejack! I’ve lost my baby sister!” she cried gutturally, clenching her eyes. “It’s all my fault! Applejack! My sister is alone in the Everfree Forest because of me!”

“Whoa there, partner,” she said, going to put her arm around Rarity. “Don’t get ahead of yerself. It ain’t yer fault she’s lost, just calm down.”

Rarity tossed Applejack’s arm off. “Calm down?! How would you feel if Applebloom was off prancing around with a swarm of manticores and bears?! Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“Heavens to Betsy... Rare, it ain’t doin’ no good panickin’ either! Sit back down, we need ta think of a plan so we don’t get any more ponies lost or hurt.”

“Plan?! What plan?! How difficult can it be to search for a lost pony?! As much as I love wasting precious time conversing with a pony on the intricacies of how to scream a name whilst walking through a forest, I have a sister to find!”

“As much as I love yellin’ at ya, we got a filly to find!”

“Yes, I do!”

Rarity stormed off, shouting in the direction of the forest. “Sweetie Belle, sweetums! Rarity’s coming for you!”

Applejack caught up with her and blocked her path.

“Now listen to yerself! Yer not gonna go sweep the forest all by yer lonesome. Last thing we need is somepony else to get lost.”

“Step aside, Applejack! I need to find my sister!”

“Okay, that’s the plan, but ya gotta calm down first. How ‘bout we go round up our friends and start a search party?”

“I don’t need help! It’s my fault, I’ll find her!” Rarity spat. “You’re wasting my time, so get out of my way!”

“Now yer just bein’ ridiculous. Look, I know yer scared, but we gotta get more ponies involved. If we’re gonna find Sweetie Belle, we hafta be organized.”

Rarity huffed and puffed, standing her ground. She didn’t budge, glowering at her friend.

“Rare, go home and see if she’s back. If she is, go tell Twilight. She’ll let the rest of us know,” said Applejack. “If not, stay there and wait fer her. I’m gonna go get the others and we’ll scan the forest lickity split.”

Rarity laughed harshly. “Yes, of course! I shall stay behind while you all search for my sister!”

“Ah’m bein’ serious. Y’all stay behind.”

“Why shouldn’t I be out searching?!” snapped Rarity.

“Somepony’s gotta stay behind in case she comes back. Outta the six of us, you make the most sense.”

Rarity shot daggers at Applejack. Applejack wasn’t the one who needed to find Sweetie Belle. She wasn’t the one who should scoop the helpless filly up and tell her everything was going to be alright, and neither was she the one who should find the body if it came to that. That errand should be Rarity’s and Rarity’s alone.

Applejack kept talking though. “Also, I don’t mean any offense in the slightest, but considerin’ we got Rainbow Dash, myself, and Pinkie, we’re gonna cover a lot of ground fast. Yer not an athlete and if ya can’t keep up, we need to put ya someplace where you’ll do the most good.”

Rarity seethed at the cruel practicality of the farmer. Never more than right now had she wished she’d spent her entire life working on a farm or running in races. Staying home was what prissy little ponies who cared about nothing besides themselves did. Upon realizing that, her breath caught in her throat and her gut lurched. She may have never described herself so perfectly in all her life.

“Applejack, you bring her back to me,” she said finally, defeated and ashamed. “I will never forgive myself if—if...” Her voice trailed off thoughtlessly as she slowly turned and trotted back to town. That trot worked up into a gallop as frustrated tears welled up in her eyes.

“Just make sure ya got some hot cocoa and an hour long hug ready fer her when she gets back!” Applejack called after her.

It had been all her fault. Rarity had the chance to go with Sweetie Belle, she had been asked to go with her, she had been begged to accompany her, and still she didn’t. The guilt felt like sludge sloshing about in her stomach.

As she was galloping home, nausea overcame her. She dashed to a nearby bush to let the guilt make her sick. As she was heaving, she swore to herself that she’d bring her sister back, no matter the cost. She wiped her lip and cursed to herself, her angry, self-loathing tears mixing with her brown, chocolatey bile.

Rarity paced the circular porch of her own house, lapping it endlessly. She tried to keep her eyes trained on every possible avenue Sweetie Belle could arrive from. Total, nauseous panic had gripped the unicorn. She had vomited twice more since she got home, and she still wasn’t done.

Her pace was fast and dizzying. At her speed, every approach could be checked in a few seconds. The spinning got to her and threw her into another dry heaving fit. After nearly passing out, she decided to get a glass of water and check the house for the thirteenth time.

None of the lights were on, leaving the house covered in darkness. It wasn’t that she intended to leave them off, but sanity had let her forget such simple things like lighting.

Her voice was hoarse from calling Sweetie Belle’s name as she scoured every room of the boutique in near complete darkness. Rarity didn’t call her name because she couldn’t find Sweetie Belle. She screamed her name, because she couldn’t stop finding her. In her guilt, she imagined things she wished she’d never thought of.

The dark had never been so cruel to her. In her gallery, she saw manticores, in her kitchen, spectres, and in the corner of her sister’s room, glints of steel. She was shaking sick as though she’d downed five pots of coffee and three full sized cakes. Her mind was racing senselessly, blending everything together. She was hyperventilating, and she face was pouring sweat. Her temperature had to of at least reached one-hundred.

Eventually she came to her own door and just stared at it. It only then occurred to her that she hadn’t checked her own room yet. Her instinct was to barge down the door, screaming her sister’s name, but fear held her.

There was something evil about her room. She imagined that behind that door was the villain that had taken her sister from her, and it would kill her just like it killed her sister.

Using the utmost caution and care, she used her magic to distantly open the dreaded door. It swung slowly. The shadows hitting it seemed to lag behind the actual movement, following the door a few seconds after. The subtle effect brought chills to her spine. It felt suicidal to go any closer, but was it worth living knowing she had caused her sister’s death? If anything, she would put a stop to the evil so it could never commit its horrors again.

She fatefully entered the room. Light was present from a lamp on the table, but colour was not. Once again, everything looked gritty, like an old noir film. Specks of black, as if from a film reel, played across her eyes.

Something rustled from under the covers of her bed. “Sweetie Belle?! Darling! Is that you?!” she cried reflexively, stepping towards it.

The rustling stopped. A drawer in the night stand snapped open. Rarity screamed, backing up to the bedroom door that had somehow shut itself.

It had been a mistake to enter her room. She clawed at her door, desperately pulling at the handle, but it was no use. The wood had magically fused to the wall. She turned around to look back at the nightstand.

The soul gem was now on the floor in front of her. It glowed brilliantly amidst the colourless world. In its light, colour and vibrancy seemed to return. In even greater colour, the world space around the rock was brought teeming to life. Never had she wanted so badly to get away from colour.

“What do you want with me?!”

Silence.

She dared not move nor take her eyes off the menacing gem. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, the soul gem was a few feet closer. She went back to clawing at the door furiously.

“Help! Help me! I’m going to die! Please! Somepony! Anypony!”

She began blasting magic at the door. Bolt after bolt connected and exploded, but to no effect. There wasn’t even a scratch. The new entrance was apparently indestructible. She watched colour approach from behind. Her heart rate picked up as panic gave way to pure adrenaline.

“Stupid rock! I have a little sister to save!” she shouted as she bucked, kicked, and blasted the door.

An excited, young voice resonated through the room. “I know! I’m going to help you!” it exclaimed.

Rarity tore her head around to see the soul gem at her hooves. “Who was that?!”

It spoke again, a tinge of worry in its pleasant voice. “It was me, the rock! Is something wrong? Besides the entire ‘my sister is lost’ thing? I ask because you keep yelling.”

Rarity gawked at the voice. With all reason and rationality already thrown out the window, she found herself mostly at odds with its tone, of all things. “Excuse me for being a little terrified and extraordinarily stressed! My sister is out lost in the forest, and now a magical garnet is talking to me! Just what the hay is going on?!”

“Really?! Is that what it looks like? A garnet?” it said, surprised.

“Yes, you’re a gar—Wait, no! Just shut up!” Rarity huffed a quick, thought-clearing breath. “I’m sorry for being short with you, but I’m really not feeling well at the moment!” She thought for a second. “Actually, no, I’m not sorry for being short with you! You are clearly an evil, malicious thing who has something to do with the disappearance of my sister!”

“Rarity, don’t be silly," it said with a laugh. “How do you even know any of that? You’re making baseless assumptions...”

“How do you know my name?!”

“I’m immobile, not deaf. Or blind for that matter,” it said matter-of-factly. “However, I am effectively a rock to you if that makes a difference. Very safe to be around. Watch me rolling menacingly.” It rolled forward, pushing Rarity even harder against the door.

Rarity didn’t know how to respond to its absurdly casual voice. “Very well then! What do you want with me?!”

“I know where your sister is. I’m assuming you want to find her, and I’m trying to tell you I can rescue her. Isn’t that great?”

“Why should I believe you?!”

“Rarity, it’s going to be difficult to converse if you keep yelling.”

“I think I will keep my voice elevated, thank you very much!”

“Really? Rude much? I’d expect somepony so pretty would be a bit nicer,” it said sardonically. “I base that expectation on absolutely nothing logical, but you are being annoying right now.”

“Now you insult me? I think I will take you to my unicorn friend tomorrow to have you disposed of. She’s a very capable magician! You won’t stand a chance!”

It sighed.

“Right... Since I can’t find a nonconfrontational way to put this, I’m just going to say it. If I die, your sister, and maybe you, will also die,” it said flatly.

“And why should I believe that? How do I know you’re not lying out your metaphorical teeth?!”

“Metaphorical? I have real teeth, you just can’t see them!” it protested. “But since we are being philosophical-ish all of a sudden, perhaps a better question: who do you think I am?” resonated the voice from deep inside the gem.

Rarity thought for a second. The soul gem had only recently began to sparkle, and her sister had only recently disappeared. “Wait, S-Sweetie Belle, is that you?” she whispered.

“Uhh, no. My name is Princess Illustrious, and thank you for lowering your voice,” it said sweetly.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Please inform me why I should care.”

“Well again, I know where your sister is. Secondly, and don’t take this the wrong way, but I could probably kill you.” There was a silence as those words sank in. Illustrious clicked her tongue and paused. “So... there is that circumstance.”

Rarity laughed, choking a bit as she did. “Oh, could you now?”

“Yep, see the darkness around us? Without colour, an artist’s soul will slowly die. Yes, that’s me, Princess Illustrious, prohibiting the colour from your world. Hey, how are you?”

Rarity was silent. She had to admit, while the white and blackness was novel right now, it was only because it felt so empty. Living chronically with it would undoubtedly lead to the death of a pony. It wasn’t just a lack of colour, but emotion and inspiration, things she absolutely needed to continue her artistic work and ultimately find happiness.

“Now Rarity, again, I’m not trying to be confrontational, but you’re making me a bit nervous. In all honesty, I’m really super desperate," admitted Illustrious. “I’ve been trying to get out of this rock for seven hundred years, and you’re the last pony in two-hundred of those years to talk to me. Right now, I’m quite literally trembling with excitement because I believe we can help each other out! Not that you can tell, but that’s besides the point.”

“I’m only listening if my sister is part of this.”

“She is, and that’s why I’m so excited. She gives us a reason to work together. We can both work towards the common goal of saving her!” she said excitedly. Rarity could sense a smile growing on Princess Illustrious’ phantom face. “Sorry for pointing out how great it is that your sister is in mortal danger. You may need to give me a second to stop shaking!”

She giggled inanely.

Rarity grit her teeth. Suddenly, it felt like she was dealing with a blushing school filly who’d just been asked to the dance. It clashed with her own dire mood. “Get to the point,” she snapped.

“Right, sorry. Well, first of all, she is alive and well, relatively speaking. I know this because I can feel the inspiration in her soul. She is destined to be an artist and her colour runs deep through me,” explained Illustrious. “I’ve listened to her sing, and I know what she’s going to sound like when she’s older. You won’t believe how much she sings about you. It’s beautiful, really.”

There was no way the stone could have known about Sweetie Belle’s special talent without some sort of magic. Rarity relaxed a little. Her heart still pounded, but it was slowly coming down.

“Where is she and what do you want from me?” said Rarity skeptically.

“She is somewhere very grey at the moment. Her colour holds, but she needs my help to stay alive. I’ll do what I can, but right now I am indisputably inside a rock. Being inside a rock has a way of diminishing a Princess of Expression’s power and influence.”

Rarity was lost in thought. “Correct me if I’m not reading into this right, but you are asking me to find a way to release you from your gem. Thereafter, you’ll do something fantastically magical that will return Sweetie Belle to me?”

“Simply put, yes. And if you don’t, Sweetie Belle will die from the absence of my supportive colour.”

“This is utter madness...” Rarity shook her head. “I’m having an existential impasse with a rock who is blackmailing me with colour blindness and my sister’s life to do something I think I need a license for.”

“Hear it from my perspective. This unicorn’s brilliant little sister somehow passes into my domain. Conveniently, I am able to talk to her older sister, unlike most incidents, offer to save said little sister, and am consequently threatened with death.”

“You’re still blackmailing me.”

“You started making threats and evoked such a response from me. I wanted to have a pleasant conversation. We could have talked about fashion and how to impress stallions,” she said.

Rarity burst out laughing. She nearly keeled over as she slid down the door to her rump. The dry heaving came again, but she continued laughing even though bile burned the back of her sore throat.

“Wh-what’s so funny?” stammered Illustrious.

“Pleasant conversation?! You have questionable ideas about what is or isn’t pleasant in conversation!”

Rarity coughed a bit as she swallowed her sickness.

“I fail to see what is so funny... Would you like to talk about philosophy or maybe cooking?”

Rarity wiped a tear from her eye, a massive smile peeling across her, cold, sweat soaked face. “My, my... I had no idea such intense stress could do this to a pony. I am having a convincingly real conversation with a rock. I’m going to sleep. I’m of no use to anypony right now.”

Illustrious' cheeriness was starting to break down. “I’d really rather be referred to as a pony. I’m not a rock...”

“Darling, you can be whatever your little heart desires, but I’m going to sleep. And then I’m going to head to the doctor as soon as I wake up. Perhaps the psychologist after that!”

“Please, Rarity!” she cried. “You’re the only chance I’ve had in so long!”

Rarity ignored her, getting up and walking past Illustrious to her bed. The rock rolled after her desperately.

“Fine, I don’t even care about me. At least help me save your sister. Even if I don’t get released, let’s save her!” she conceded.

Rarity ignored her again and the rock began sobbing loudly. Rarity laid down and pulled some covers over herself.

“How noble. Pray, for a rock, you create quite a commotion. Keep your voice down to a whisper, please. It’s rude to talk when somepony is trying to sleep.”

She nestled into her bed. Horrible thoughts still surged through her mind, but she could barely even register those anymore.

She was having a seizure and flailing violently on the bed, slipping in and out of consciousness. Her temperature skyrocketed and her heart pounded.

She did this for some time, until she finally came to rest, still and silent, only her shallow, ragged breath alluding to her diminishing vitality. The mercy of sleep was about to take her as she closed her eyes for the night. That’s when she heard a familiar voice.

It was Sweetie Belle, and she was singing.

Somewhere, over the rainbow

Way up high

There’s a land that I heard of

Once in a lullaby

Rarity’s eyes pried open. She cocked her head around, scanning for the source of the music. Her hopes fell as she realized it sounded from the depths of the soul gem.

One day I’ll wish upon a star

And wake up where the clouds are far

Behind me

Rarity stared deeply into the rock, her countless emotions finally realized into one—sadness. She was going to teach Sweetie Belle this exact song today, but never had the chance. It was a song she’d written and never told anypony else about.

When troubles melt like lemon drops

Away above the chimney tops

That’s where you’ll find me

The song healed Rarity. When it was over she was whole again, though crying comfortably. Her gentle sobs broke the bitter silence that followed. The song was cathartic and pure and it brought her back to sanity. She knew what she must do and never deviate from. Sweetie Belle was lost, and her big sister needed to find her.

Colour returned to the room in spurts with each of Rarity’s heaving wails.

“Oh... Sweetie...” she whispered.

“Rarity, as long as I know that song, I know she’s alive. Her colour is so vibrant, and I don’t want to lose it...” said Illustrious softly.

Rarity gave herself a few moments to gather her response.

“Wh-what do I need to do?” she said finally.

Princess Illustrious took a deep breath. “Thank you, Rarity. I promise to do everything in my power to save her. First thing’s first. Go get a mirror." Next Chapter: The Princess Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 30 Minutes