The mostly-blank paper, decorated with barely a quarter of a new dress design, stared back at Rarity as she sat in the lobby of the boutique. In the few days since her so-called friends all blew up at each other, every time she'd take her quill and try to get started creating again, any and all desire or ideas she may have had vanished in seconds, leaving her scowling at the parchment and eventually tossing the utensil aside in disgust. She hadn't felt so uninspired and apathetic in a long, long while – and last time it was over a stallion. As if it wasn't bad enough that business had been beyond lousy ever since those nasty rumors got around town. Without customers, however, what was the point of designing anything new?
Before she could stomp her way into the kitchen for another glass of wine, there was a knock at the door. Now what? Couldn't everypony just leave her alone to wallow or at least eat the lunch she was going to be making in a little while? Plus, considering how little she had prettied herself up in the last couple days, she couldn't be sure who'd be more horrified by her appearance – herself or her guests. Quickly straightening her mane as best she could, she sauntered to the door and opened it only to gasp at her visitors and their thick accents.
"Hey, Rarity! We're back from vacation!"
"Oh, dearie, it's so good to see you! How've you been?"
They each exchanged a hug with their flummoxed daughter as they let themselves in. "Err, welcome back, Mother...Father." Rarity closed the door behind them, fumbling for the right words in her head to properly express the anger she suddenly felt boiling up. How could they just walk on in and act all nonchalant after leading her on some wild goose chase which almost got her killed?! Granted, it was by pure chance that she happened upon some muggers, but that wasn't the point!
She stared through them in disbelief and disgust as they gabbed on and on, back and forth, about some of the sights they saw on their months long vacation. Eventually, Cookie Crumbles paused upon seeing her daughter's disinterested face. "Rarity? Honey, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to see us."
Behind her furious, curling lips, her teeth ground together. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't hold her tongue. "Happy? Oh, maybe if you hadn't asked me to come see you in Manehattan only to find out you weren't there after getting attacked by a group of ruffians barely after stepping off the train, I may be a little more happy to see you!"
Mid-stride, the couple ground to a screeching halt.
"Wait, what?"
"Attacked in Manehattan? Honey, are you okay?! What were you doing up there?"
"I'm fine, thanks to Coco Pommel...and with no thanks to who I thought were my friends," Rarity snarled. "Why did you send me that postcard?! Why play such a...a s-sick joke on your own daughter?!"
Cookie and Hondo glanced wide-eyed at each other, both at a total loss.
"But, we never sent you one from there."
Hondo added, "Yeah, the last one we sent out was about a week and a half ago from Japon."
"Is that a fact?"
Glaring hard, the designer pointed toward the kitchen. It took a second, but eventually, her parents complied and led the way. Once by the table, Rarity brushed past them and stomped her way to the little ceramic basket she kept her letters and other various bits of mail, including said greetings from tourist towns. At front of it all, though, she had kept the catalyst that seemingly started her woes and snatched it up with her magic, floating it right into her parents' faces.
Cookie took the small card in her hoof and stared at the correspondence. Strange, it looked like hers – nearly exactly like hers. She glanced up at the corner where the stamp was and noted the post date. Lifting a brow, she muttered, "What in the world? Where did you get this?"
"What, does the signature not tell you?" she growled.
"But, sweetie...we didn't go to Manehattan this time."
"Then where is that from?!"
"Baby, you know we keep all the receipts we get when we go on these long trips to make sure everything matches our next bank statement. You know this!" Hondo mentioned. "Would you like to come back home and go through all our receipts? We don't have any from Manehattan."
"But...you..." Her folks shrugged and shook their heads, not sure what else to tell her. She rolled her bright blue eyes. "Oh, wonderful. I suppose now my own parents are going to think I'm a liar or...o-or stark, raving mad or something too just like everypony else has for the last several weeks."
"Rarity, what are you talking about?" Cookie asked.
"I don't want to go into it, but the short version is that ponies think I...had relations with somepony I didn't and no one wants to believe me," her ears sagged along with her eyes, "including my...friends." She stomped a hoof hard on the tile floor. "I'm just so furious with them! And yet...I miss them. That probably sounds ridiculous and stupid."
"No, not really. Your friends are good ponies and sometimes friends fight," Hondo said, resting a comforting hoof on her shoulder. "You'll move past it eventually."
"It's been weeks. Plus, a few days ago, we...all kind of had it out with each other. I haven't spoken to any of them since. Haven't seen them either." The unicorn nodded angrily at what the postcard. "It all started soon after I got that horrible thing."
Her mother raised a brow as she skimmed it over once more time. "Whoever sent this really knows how to mimic my hoofwriting, but...there's something missing here. It's how I knew it was a fake right away...well, if I didn't know we didn't write it ourselves, of course."
"What's that?" Rarity asked as she trotted up beside her elder.
Cookie tapped at a small empty space right beside her signed name. "I always leave you a little heart right there whenever I send these to you. This one doesn't have it."
"What do you mean?"
"You've never noticed?" A slew of other, saved cards flew out of their little bin, circling around and into the fashionista's view. Each one that went by, sure enough, had one last small note of love drawn out beside 'Mom', each met with a pointed hoof. "See? Every last one. I'm a bit surprised and, well, a little disappointed that you didn't catch that my heart was missing."
Rarity blinked in stunned disbelief. She was usually so good with details – her clothing line said as much. How did such a small, seemingly insignificant thing slip past her? "I...I guess it just...got lost in the background or...o-or something."
"It was always there, so you eventually stopped seeing for it," her father suggested.
"Maybe." Her blue eyes fell. She could have died from embarrassment right then and there. Instead, she gradually perked back up, as confused as her folks. "But, if you didn't send this, then who did? And why?"
"Did you ask Sweetie Belle?"
"Believe me, her hoofwriting isn't this clean. Besides, why would she want to send me away? She loves spending time with me."
"I don't know," Hondo muttered. "There anypony you know out there who may not be your biggest fan?"
The cards were collected in a light blue aura and carefully replaced. "My friends and I have saved the world a few times. I'm sure we've made some enemies. But I haven't seen anypony acting suspicious around here. Though...we had a large number of ponies moving to town a while...back..."
The mare peered out toward the town through the kitchen window, numerous terrifying possibilities suddenly racing through her mind. She never really got a chance to know any of the newcomers. Could somepony have been stalking her or her friends? Who's to say if any of the newer townsfolk were a little...disturbed or unbalanced? Her stomach turned itself in knots as she thought more and more about it.
"You alright, hon?" Cookie asked.
Rarity bit her lip. "Yes. I-I'll be fine."
As she turned away from the window, a cream-colored unicorn – having already once had an eye on the fashion designer – was already hustling towards a particular pink filly's home with some news firmly on his mind.
-----
Cottontail answered the knock at her door and brought the spy inside. The two took a seat in chairs opposite each other. He wasted no time in getting to the point.
"Rarity's parents are home from their vacation. I saw them stop by Carousel Boutique not a half hour ago."
"Not unexpected. They live here in Ponyville. They were bound to return home some time, and it doesn't change anything. I do appreciate you getting back to me as quickly as you did though."
"They've probably already started asking questions. You know Rarity probably places some of the blame on them for that postcard we wrote."
Cottontail shrugged. "If we're lucky, she'll fly into a fit of rage and stop talking to them completely. Perhaps with enough push, we could force her out of town altogether. Wouldn't that be nice? Her little group is already fractured; splitting them off entirely would just be a bonus."
"So, what do we do now?" the unicorn pondered.
"Assuming Rarity is shaken up all over again about her little...trip, now that her folks are back into the picture, she probably would want somepony she trusts completely to lean on for support – and I know just who that'd be." The youngster craned her neck around the side of the chair and shouted into the house. "Curtain Call! Wake the hell up and get in here!"
"Is that all she's done since we got here?"
"Basically. The lazy twat..." The sound of galloping hooves curtailed Cottontail's insults. Her mother skidded to a halt right beside the chair.
"Y-yes, I'm here! Ready for anything!" she mumbled with a salute.
"Good. I've got a simple job for you, starting tomorrow." The older mare suddenly found herself lifted up, nose to nose with the youth and shaking like a leaf. "And if you find a way to screw this up, you'll be nothing more than a smear on my hoof."
"N-n-no problem! What's on the agenda?"
-----
Several days had gone by since Rarity's folks had returned and she had spilled the beans about the bizarre events that had occurred. The designer had thought about what they said more than once and was left with just as many questions as she had answers. The last couple of days, however, she had decided to stop thinking terribly hard about their talks. It wasn't getting her anywhere, it wasn't helping draw customers in, and, most likely, an answer would come to her when she wasn't thinking about it. That's the way it always worked, no?
The day had crept quietly along with nary a sound from her door or its bell. Several of her creations sat untouched on their racks, begging to be taken home by some lucky patron. Meanwhile, Rarity sat in her inspiration room, again mulling and pondering over a blank parchment with a quill hovering overhead for several straight minutes, not moving an inch. Dragging out a sigh, the mare set the quill down, her ears sagging.
It had been at least a few weeks since she had come up with anything to draw out. Every time she thought she invented something just right, the designs ultimately ended up balled in the trash for one reason or another. How could she be inspired when business was dead as a door nail and she hadn't spoken to those who used to be her friends since they all screamed at each other?
She wiped away a tear that threatened to roll down her cheek before it got going. It would have been difficult to admit it to anyone else, but she missed them. They had argued plenty of times before even though it had never gotten quite so personal. Were any of the others having similar feelings?
Pinkie was likely a wreck. Making friends was almost like a goal in her life, and seeing her closest ones fighting the way they were was undoubtedly causing her to cry herself to sleep. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were probably still fuming. Fluttershy probably was isolating herself with her animals the way she used to. Twilight...considering she had studied the concept of friendship, which eventually allowed her to ascend to princesshood, maybe she was wishing she could give back her wings, believing she had ultimately failed or something. Rarity couldn't quite be sure. No doubt the alicorn was just as confused and upset as everypony else either way.
The sound of a jingling bell downstairs caught her attention, snapping her out of her funk. A customer maybe? That'd be fantastic! She could use the business. She was fairly well off and was in no danger of going under, but the income was still important. She quickly trotted downstairs, putting on a happy smile, only for her hopes to die down just as fast. The visitor was still welcome though.
"Oh. Hello, Sweetie Belle."
"Hi, Rarity!" The little one lunged at her older sister with a big hug. "What's going on?"
"Nothing much. Been quiet as usual around here." Their embrace broke, letting the youth head toward the kitchen. "I thought you'd be off playing with your friends today. Did something happen?"
Sweetie came to a sudden stop and bit her lip out of Rarity's sight. "Err, Apple Bloom had something come up, yeah. She was needed at home."
"Oh. What about Scootaloo?"
"We just...we wanted to go hang out altogether. It wouldn't have felt right without Apple Bloom, so we called it an early day."
"Hm. Fair enough." With a smile, Rarity took the lead to the fridge, correctly figuring what Sweetie Belle was after. "Want a snack or something?"
"Some apple juice would be great, thanks!" she answered, sitting at the table like a good filly.
"Alright." As Rarity grabbed a juice box and floated it to her sister, she joined her and said with a sigh, "I must say, Sweetie, I'm...happy to know that, just because my...friends and I have...grown apart in these last several weeks that you and yours are still going strong. In a way, it...kind of gives me hope that maybe some day we can put our differences aside and try to work through everything, but..." She shifted her eyes away in shame. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't dump this on you."
"What would happen if you...couldn't?"
After a moment of thought, the designer shrugged. "I don't know." She fidgeted uncomfortably and quickly changed the subject. "S-so, um...how was school today?"
Sweetie Belle downed a mouthful of juice before answering. "Eh, same as always."
"Heh, yes, I suppose school doesn't really change much from day to day. Probably quite similar to what they were teaching me when I was your age. What about 'Twilight Time' yesterday? How'd that go?" The youngster nearly choked on her drink. "Oh my! Are you alright?"
She managed to reply between coughs, "Yeah! Fine! Twilight Time...um...you mean with...?"
Rarity blinked. "With Twilight, dear."
"Right! Twilight, yeah. Um...it was, I mean...it was okay, I guess."
"Did she teach you anything new?"
Her young stomach was suddenly tying itself in knots. "Err, Rarity, can I be honest with you?"
"Of course you can. What is it?"
"I...I'm not sure if I should be going to this thing anymore."
"What? Why not? You've always loved learning new things from the princess."
It was Sweetie's turn to shrug. "It's just that you guys have hated each other for a little while now. I don't understand why I should have to go hang out with her when you need the love and attention here more."
Rarity rolled her blue eyes. "Listen, even though we're not on speaking terms right now, you can learn a lot more from her than you can from me. She was always far more magically inclined than I could ever hope to be." A smirked trailed across her cheeks. "Feels rather strange paying her a compliment after everything that's happened, but it's true nonetheless. Besides, you couldn't stop gushing last week about your little get-together."
"Yeah, I guess it was pretty cool seeing Scootaloo try out that new flying trick."
Before the conversation could continue, a breath escaped Rarity's lungs. She stared at her sister briefly, completely confused. "W-what do you mean? I thought she couldn't fly."
Sweetie's plump cheeks turned a bright red. "Turns out she was...faking...the whole time."
"What?! Why in the world would she do that?"
"Attention. Sympathy."
"But, that doesn't make...sense."
The nonsensical notions played through her head. She had hung around with Scootaloo plenty of times, and she knew for a fact thanks to Rainbow Dash that the little daredevil couldn't get off the ground. Everypony who knew her at all knew this to be the case. So, why was Sweetie of all ponies lying to her? Any fibs she ever told were childish white lies that she used when she didn't want to get in trouble but knew she was going to anyway. The dressmaker questioningly glanced into her sister's soft green eyes as she gulped down the last of her juice.
"What?" Sweetie asked.
Rarity shook her head and whispered, "N-nothing. I'm going to head back upstairs, see if I can put something down on paper that I can start working on. Care to join me?"
"Sure!" she said, hopping off her chair and leaving it untucked under the table where it's supposed to go. Her juice box sat there, unmoved, as well.
"Ahem," Rarity interjected, causing the filly to halt. She nodded at the mess. It was enough to get the idea across. With a penitent smile, Sweetie hovered it over to the trash can and tossed it in. Another clear of the elder mare's throat stopped Sweetie Belle once more, and a glance at the chair told the story. The filly pushed it in and huffed out the kitchen.
The purple-maned unicorn raised a brow as her younger sister turned a corner and made her way up to the second floor. She didn't remember the last time she had to tell Sweetie to clean up after herself. It had become so ingrained in her head that it was second nature to her by now. A momentary lapse? Possibly, but it didn't seem likely.
But she certainly wasn't acting herself, and she was most certainly lying – badly so – all of a sudden. Why would she feel the need to lie about Scootaloo or Twilight Time? She wanted to confront her about things a little more in-depth, but the last time she tried that, everything completely blew up. She'd prefer not to have that again – especially with her own sister and possibly the rest of her family, if the arguments were eventually to make it their way. She'd have to be cautious.
But first, she got herself a quick glass of water before heading up to her work room. A crazy idea had been concocted.
Sweetie Belle wasn't waiting long by the time Rarity showed up. Her nose was poking about the half-made dresses hanging from their respective ponyquinns and scrunching in disgust. Setting her drink down by her workstation, Rarity returned to her quill and paper. This time, however, a dress design wasn't the first thing on her mind though she played the part for a few long minutes.
She glanced from the corner of her eye. Sweetie Belle's back was still turned. It was almost as if the tyke was studying the fabrics around the room like she had never seen them before. Rarity ground her teeth behind her lips. She was going to hate herself in the morning for the stunt she was about to pull, but she needed to know.
"Oops!" she cried, knocking her glass over and spilling the water onto the floor. The mare rubbed her forehead. "Ugh, isn't that par for the course lately?"
"You okay?"
"Yes, I'm just...so unfocused these days," she replied as her hoof found her 'tired' eyes. "Here I am acting like a clumsy baffoon. Sweetie, dear, could you conjure me up a wash rag please?"
"I-I don't know how to do that. Want me to run to the bathroom and grab a towel?"
"No, that's alright. Please, go ahead and try. I know you can do it!"
Sweetie Belle cleared her throat and looked away sheepishly. Taking a deep breath, she focused her magics hard, but all the effort and concentration afforded no results.
"Hm. That's alright. I'll go..." The fashionista suddenly bopped herself on the head and chuckled. "Wow, I'd lose my head if it wasn't screwed on. I very nearly forgot that I have something...personal to attend to."
"Oh! I can head home then."
"Oh no no no! Mother and father are...errrr, out. Yes, they went out for dinner tonight. They mentioned it to me earlier."
"Then I can come with you. We can spend all day together!" Sweetie Belle said with a bounce.
"I can't, really. What I can do is–" Rarity internally cringed, "–leave you with Twilight until I return. I shouldn't be terribly long, but I do have to take care of this issue."
"Awww, okay. I hope you're not long. Spending time with you is always fun! But, really, why can't I–?"
"Come now, Sweetie Belle, off we go," the designer interrupted, trotting quickly out of the room. As she expected, Sweetie followed a few steps behind, but not before grunting her disapproval.
-----
Dodging the numerous glares and sideways glances from the Ponyville populace was an impossibility, but Rarity couldn't be concerned about their opinions at the moment. With Sweetie Belle in tow, she cantered through town with a purpose, nearly exhausting the filly as she tried to keep up. Eventually, the two managed to find themselves in front of the large crystalline castle that only recently filled Rarity's mind with such terrible memories of fighting and ostracizing over lies and pure nonsense.
A confident yet still nervous breath steeled her nerves as she reached up to the double doors and knocked. A few minutes passed before a familiar, scaly host answered. His scowl was immediate upon seeing Rarity but was tempered just enough when he saw her sister.
"Hello, Rarity. Sweetie Belle," Spike mumbled. "What can I do for you?"
"Good afternoon, Spike. Would...Twilight be available? I need to speak to her."
"I don't think she wants to see you."
"Please?" she leaned in and whispered. "I know she can't stand me right now, but it's rather urgent. I hope it's not, but..."
He rolled slitted eyes and sighed loudly. The toying and manipulation just never stopped with her, did it? "Give me a minute."
Rarity nodded as he closed the door. Not long after, they reopened thanks to an unamused alicorn. "This had better be good."
"M-may we come in? Please?" the designer pleaded.
Twilight pursed her lips. Against her better judgment, she agreed, but they didn't go in far. "What do you want?"
"Is it alright if Spike were to take Sweetie Belle inside for a few?"
"Y-yeah, sure. Spike?" the princess hollered.
From a nearby study, the dragon appeared. "What's up?"
"Could you go play with Sweetie Belle for a moment? We need to talk."
"Sure." With a claw, he led her down the hall until they were out of sight, giving Rarity one last glare from a distance as they rounded a corner.
"You've really got a lot of nerve showing up here," Twilight growled.
"Will you just stop it and listen to me for a minute?! There's something really...odd going on with Sweetie Belle."
The royal mare rolled her eyes. "This again? Everypony's still out to get you? I thought this was played out by now."
"Look, think what you want about me or what we've said to each other or...or whatever, but...ugh, I need your help with something."
"Why should I give you any?"
"Because it involves her," Rarity fumed, nodded in Sweetie's direction.
Twilight turned away, scowling. She always had a soft spot for the youth. They were innocent, so she always believed. "What is it?"
"Thank you," the fashionista sighed. "Tell me...last week, when she came here for Twilight Time...what all did she learn?"
"She, um, was studying conjuration magic. It's not the easiest magic to master, but some of the more basic things that can be produced are rather simple. Even unicorns with a rudimentary understanding of magic could learn how to conjure things like quills or paper or tissues."
"Or rags and towels?" Rarity suggested.
"That too, yeah. Why?"
"I knew it. Sweetie Belle couldn't stop practicing and demonstrating being able to do such things last week when she stopped by my place. Earlier today, I asked her to create a towel for me to clean up a spill and she acted like she couldn't."
"Maybe she was playing a prank on you," Twilight said.
"No, no, she loved showing off for me last week. But that's not the strangest thing – at least, I don't think it is."
"What do you mean?"
A hint of hesitation almost stopped Rarity in her tracks. What she was about to suggest was probably going to sound ridiculous to Twilight. "She said that Scootaloo was performing flying tricks – and from you, of all ponies. Not from Rainbow Dash, who you'd think would be the one teaching her such things."
"What? You're making this up. She knows Scootaloo can't fly. And...you're right, Rainbow would teach her that, not me."
"But I'm not making this up, that's the thing!" Rarity hissed with a stomp. "When I asked her where she got that idea into her head, she said Scootaloo has been claiming not to be able to fly for the attention!"
"So, then, why would she use her scooter the way that she does? Granted, she probably does enjoy the attention it garners–"
"That's what I'm saying! Something's not adding up, and to top it all off, she said she doesn't want to come to her studies with you and her friends anymore. She couldn't even tell me what she studied yesterday!"
A single, lavender brow was lifted. "We reviewed some of the conjuration magic and then moved onto splitting her focus between more than one object the way...the way you can so well. I've seen you juggle over twenty items at once. That's not easy to do."
The pair turned and gazed down the hall, curious and uncertain. "I don't suppose mind control is terribly common."
"Not unless you enjoy studying forbidden magics," Twilight answered. "And I doubt Discord would have anything to do with it. He's not the same draconequus he used to be."
Rarity narrowed her eyes as a terrible idea came to mind. "Twilight...could I ask you to keep an eye on Sweetie Belle for a short time?"
"Err...I suppose. Why? Where are you going?"
She explained as she headed toward the doors, "Sweetie Belle tends to hang out with her friends after school. She claims that something came up with Apple Bloom and came right to my place instead of going straight home with Mother and Father. There's...something I need to check. I just hope that I'm wrong."
"Wrong with what?"
Rarity paused upon opening the exit. "Missing what was right in front of me."
-----
Why did Sweet Apple Acres have to be so big and cause one to generate so much sweat? Even under the numerous apple trees, it felt like ten saunas you didn't want to be in. Thankfully, Rarity's goal wasn't too far into the enormous farmland.
Wiping her brow clean with a freshly-conjured towel, she came across the small clubhouse built into the heart of one of the larger trees on the estate. She hadn't even started up the first ramp when she could hear chatting and playing from inside. It was a quiet but steady cacophony of noise that required a more direct investigation.
She tip-toed to the wooden door and placed her ear against it, doing her best to focus. It only took a second for her eyes to grow wide. Horrified, she pulled away and stared at the entrance, almost not wanting to look inside. But, she had no choice. She needed to see it for herself.
Gulping down her fear and putting on a pleasant smile, she knocked and opened it up a second later. It took all of her willpower not to gasp out loud.