Scent-sational Perfumer Cassia--Book Two, Chapter Eight

“Would you say you care about the fate of this planet?”

The light red pegasus flinched and tugged at her fluffy brown dress as the other mare drew even nearer. With her silvery fur and light purple mane, this older unicorn could’ve easily been a model in her past life. But now, she was Perfumer Rose, the pony destined to save the world…and also destined to be her enemy.

Perfumer Cassia stared at Rose for as long as she could, hoping to find a hint of sympathy in her eyes. But she couldn’t help it. Rose was a warrior who’d been training for Celestia knows how long, and Cassia was only a simple florist. Of course, this match was going to be weighed against her the moment she’d stepped into it.

That’s why she’d always wanted to fight fate and bring Rose to her team of Scent-sational Perfumers, and why she’d saved her from their enemies instead of leaving her to die. Maybe she wasn’t really fit to be a guardian of friendship after all, and every decision she’d ever made had been out of cowardice.

Rose’s gaze weakened her more than any enemy attack ever could, and all she could do was nod as the purple Perfumer asked her question.

“O-of course,” Cassia whispered. “Why wouldn’t I? Surely you don’t want Equus to fall into the Mist of Despair, do you?”

It took every piece of her will to turn her hesitation into accusation. It pained her to think about it, but she knew deep down that Rose wouldn’t be moved by friendship anymore. And, if a Perfumer’s heart had blackened to this point, who was to say they were one at all? Who was to say everything she’d known about Rose wasn’t a lie?

Meanwhile, the other magical filly only chuckled in response.

“You never change, do you, Cassia? You keep going mission by mission until a better one comes along. You never once realize that villains strike the same place twice. You flit your little wings from planet to planet whenever anypony needs you, and leave once you don’t. You doom everypony else to the aftershocks of a second attack. And always, the more you run away, the sooner you die.”

Rose’s face suddenly went blank, as if remembering more apocalypses than anypony could imagine. Perfumers could regenerate only a year after their deaths, good as new and with no memories of their past, but how?

How could Rose have gamed a system not even the gods herself could change?

“That is the story of your past life, and why I work alone.”

“But you need me!” Cassia found herself saying without thinking. “Us! You were captured so easily without a magical team by your side! I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”

The other mare cornered her ever closer, staring into her eyes with pillars of purple flame.

“I have, more times than you can count. All because I rely on you against my better senses. Something needs to change this time, and I have a feeling you won’t. If it means seeing you have to save me again, I’d rather die.”

With a lips curled in a particularly nasty snarl, Rose whispered, “Tell me, do you even care about the ponies you save anymore? Because here’s what I think. Saving the world, and everypony in it, has always just been a power trip to you. And when you run out of ponies, you run to the next place that needs you.”

Fear suddenly blossomed onto Cassia’s face, and the black spires of evil all around only hurt matters even more. Doing such a thing in a villain’s lair, when the two of them could easily be caught yet again, had to mean that Rose had lost all reason. Yet her words bit her in the side nonetheless.

Was she really destined to leave Equus again, if her past self had done it so many times? Was she herself doing the things Rose said without even thinking about them?

“Well, I won’t turn into one of your little pawns. I’ll never let you think I need you, and so you’ll chase me until the end of time. If that’s what it takes to keep you anchored to this disastrous planet, I’ll do it as many times as it takes.”

With that, Rose trotted away, her head held high. But Cassia couldn’t help but wonder: how many times had this same scene unfolded? Was there really a past, or a future, in which the two of them could be allies?

These were the sorts of feelings the purple unicorn always seemed to stir in her: pandemonium, sadness, and very occasionally, longing. She knew she didn’t just look at Rose as somepony to save, whatever her past self did. But what did she see her fellow Perfumer as?

And would Rose, as aloof and elusive as any of the purple-frocked mares in her magical filly stories, ever see her the same way?

Twilight Sparkle, M.D.

Ponyville Hospital, Day 10, early evening

Saving the world, and everypony in it, has always just been a power trip to you.

Way to hit a nerve, Rose. Way to hit a nerve, not just for your little co-star, but for me, too.

As I spend my dinner break reading this weird comic, which seems way too childish for me to have sought out if the pharmacist hadn’t coaxed me into it, I can’t help but feel along with Cassia, and as much as I hate to admit it, it does make me wonder.

I curse these stupid sorts of feelings even as they come into my head—why should I care if it’s a power trip or not? Ponies get saved either way, and I certainly don’t run away from my responsibilities like Cassia apparently does. Gosh, her past self is such an idiot. If I was Rose, I would’ve cut with the lecture and punched herself straight in the—

Oh, for the love of all things holy, I’m actually having an existential crisis over a magical filly manga instead of getting ready for work. What even is my life right now?

With that dismaying question in mind, I turn my attention towards something even more important, something that, in hindsight, should’ve been extremely obvious. I add up the facts like a subpar detective in a dollar-store novel: Redheart likes rose scent the best, Rose herself was getting pretty close to Cassia, everypony in this town seems to want the two of us to end up together…

With a sigh of annoyance, I’m beginning to wonder if Fluttershy was a bigger mastermind than I thought, and as I ponder this, I accidentally say a few of my strange little questions out loud.

“So Rose must be Redheart, then…”

“Really? She seems a ton more like Healer Midnight to me.”

I swear, just hearing the answer makes me jump six feet in the air. As soon as my fear reflex eases up, I’m able to tell that somepony had been reading over my shoulder all this time. Yet another obvious thing I should’ve noticed, and yet somehow didn’t. Have I always been this dense?

Seeing the bewildered look in my eyes, Redheart adds, “You know, from Beautiful Healers? The magical manga that’s been sweeping Nippon for, what, the last ten years now?”

It’s almost hilarious how she thinks I’m all confused because I don’t know what she’s talking about. Because ponies definitely sneak up on their coworkers on a regular basis. But like I said, almost.

“Actually, she does seem a bit too high-strung to be a pure Midnight rip-off. So come to think of it, she’s probably got a bit of Healer Chance in her, too. It certainly makes her more interesting that way.”

She’s talking to a wall in every sense of the word. Not only is she doing so in the usual sense, but at the moment, she’s literally facing one, and I hate myself for finding humor in the sort of corny joke Ponyvillians would go wild over. In any case, I start waving my hoof in front of her face to get her back to her usual Redheart, and out of whatever weird fanfilly phase she’s in.

In any other circumstance, I would absolutely hate to do this, as it’d be far easier to just let her rant and move on. But this is the first time she’s been willing to talk to me in three days, and I have to know what was up with the letter in that book. As hard as I try not to think about it, it always comes up, even though I know it’s probably a plant. I tell myself every day that surely Fluttershy would’ve had a book like that, and bringing it over would’ve been yet another ingenious way to get us closer together. But somehow, part of me almost wants it to be Redheart’s work, for some stupid, inexplicable reason.

Either way, it goes against the mare she usually is, which means I have to confront it eventually. From the few days I’ve been here, I know that her acting out of character is usually a bad sign, either for me or for the entire city. So I press on and distract her the manga as much as I can.

“But really, I don’t mind you comparing me to Midnight,” she goes on, her voice sounding more noticeably flirty than before. “She’s my absolute favorite character, so that’s the best compliment you could give me. And to think, if you would’ve said that when we first met, maybe we wouldn’t be at each other’s throats so much…”

“MIDNIGHT!”

I practically facepalm at myself the minute I realize what I yelled. At least, by the time I’m through having her explain everything to me, she’ll probably forget my slip-up.

“I—I MEAN REDHEART! I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”

For somepony who’s probably yelled at her fair share of patients, Doctor Redheart actually looks pretty scared to be on the receiving end. However, she regains her composure just as soon as she loses it, and suddenly, her usual annoyed stare is back on her face.

“I thought we were already talking,” she mutters. “And if anypony asks, I just wanted to read Fluttershy’s comic. Getting close to you was just a consequence of that, so don’t get too excited.”

As much as everything seems back to normal, I can’t help but get the impression that she’s laying it on a bit thick today. Something seems off about the way she engages me, from her threatening stance to her insults themselves. Today, it almost seems like the regular Redheart is just an act, and the sickeningly kind and energetic shtick she does for the patients is real. Either way, I can’t shake the feeling that something about the mare is empty somehow, and may not be returning anytime soon.

For some reason, the pain of knowing that is almost too much, even if she is my rival.

“It’s about the letter,” I ask hesitantly, trying to use my most sincere tone. “Were you really the one who wrote it?”

Just like usual, for one distant moment, her face is neutral, shocked even. But the minute she realizes I’m the enemy yet again, anger twists onto every part of her.

“Of course. Why? You think I’d never want to help you? That this rivalry doesn’t go completely off the table when there are lives at risk?”

Like Cassia, I stand limp in disbelief, seeing a side of Redheart I never thought I would. As easy as it can be to reduce her to some enemy figure, she really does care about her patients enough to shut down every interaction between us. She’s every bit as close to her patients as she is distant from everypony else.

“Would you say you care about the fate of this planet?”

Compared to how she cares, it almost feels like I don’t. But, just like her story counterpart, she doesn’t relent when I stand quietly. If anything, she turns into a volcanic eruption with a cross on its flank.

“If you honestly can’t see that, then maybe you’re the one who’s taking this too far. I wrote that letter because I saw your real heart when you were waiting for Cheerilee to wake up. That was the first time I actually saw you show weakness. I could feel you begging for help, so I did.”

“Because you cared about more than just the patient?” I ask.

Redheart’s emotions are practically fighting for their lives in front of me, as that one question pierces every piece of composure the mare might’ve had. Her face shifts from shock, to annoyance, even to relief. But I know which one she’s going to settle for. The same mask she always comes back to, as if it has her hooked.

“No,” she replies, settling for a smug smirk. “Because I wanted to see you struggle like everypony else. All those other words in there? They were just in case anypony else stumbled on that book. To throw them off long enough for me to prove your perfection was a lie.”

In my silence, I can almost hear something snapping across the room. For all I know, it could be something very real, but now, it just feels like something I shouldn’t be feeling. Sadness. Regret. Loss.

Dare I say, even betrayal.

This isn’t real, I keep telling myself. This isn’t who she really is.

I stay silent anyway.

“Nopony else will ever figure it out, but I did. And every time I ever see you outshine everypony, I’m going to remember the time I brought you down to earth.”

With a particularly sassy swivel, Redheart exits the room, probably onto her next case. After that, I’m not really sure what to expect, if anything.

One thing I don’t expect, though, is tears.

Twilight Sparkle, M.D.

Ponyville Hospital, Day 11, midnight

They aren’t mine.

I search out the entire hospital trying to find the source of the sound. To my knowledge, everypony has left, or should have left, hours ago. Heck, the only reason I’m still here was because I needed to organize my space some more.

The only pony who’d stay this late is one whose face flashes straight into my head, but I still don’t believe it until it’s right in front of me. Redheart, the stone-cold, ice-cold pony who just told me off a few hours ago, is half-asleep and half-crying. Wailing, even, from the looks of it.

I know I shouldn’t snoop, partly because Redheart doesn’t deserve my attention and partly because I’m a civilized pony. But somehow, against my better judgement, two documents on the opposite side of the room catch my eye. One’s open to a certain page, and the other seems to have been printed backwards. Most notably, the open journal page has the words “I couldn’t beat her” followed by endless repetitions of “I’m sorry.” Like a madmare wrote it, almost.

The other oddly printed book has paper sticking out on one page, and I open it up silently and carefully. It’s a comic like the one Fluttershy drew, and the panels show a shadowy villain kicking his henchmare to the curb. Judging from the young unicorn mare’s desperate face and the copious dry tear marks all around her section, it’s clearly meant to be a very emotional and agonizing scene—at least, for ponies who are into these sorts of stories.

Most important of all, however, is the official-looking document that Redheart must’ve used to mark her place. I barely have to read it to know it’s Ponyville Hospital stationery, and the scene she marked was about to become all too relevant.

Doctor Scarlet Redheart,

As you know, your performance ratings have plummeted within the past several months. While we regret to inform you of this fact, Ponyville is a high-danger area, and we feel it would be best for you—and for the entire population—if you moved forward in your medical pursuits. We wish more than anything for you to stay, but seeing as you have been issued several complaints in the areas of bedside manner, professionalism, and have taken numerous absences, you will be moved to our Appleloosa branch in one month’s time. We appreciate your service and wish you the best of luck in your new life.

The Ponyville Hospital Board

I look back and forth between the letter and the story of the henchmare, and only one thought runs through my head.

It’s the only life she’s ever known.

Author's Notes:

Writing Fluttershy's series excerpt was surprisingly fun for me. I've always enjoyed magical girl stuff a ton (and am writing a MG series now, even), so it kinda showed in this part. For translation purposes: Beautiful Healers is Pretty Cure, Healer Chance is Cure Fortune, and Healer Midnight is Cure Moonlight. It's not exactly the same as human Precure, but the characters are similar...and Redheart's love of Midnight is, sadly, based entirely off Moonlight being my fave Cure.

It's a bit more dramatic now with the hospital board's ultimatum, but there'll still be plenty of laughs and tension to go around. Stick around, folks!