Rarity’s splendiferous work was very much like magic. In fact, it was magic. She worked with confidence and poise all while maintaining a soft touch, and never losing her patience when Flicker didn’t move in just the right way for her. The coat came together in sections, being made of black wool, matte black leather, and black hemp. It was sleek along the body, had a rain cape that covered the croup and hind legs, and the sleeves were a special design that Rarity had that allowed for full flexibility of movement.
Rarity’s sewing was a sight to see, where many seamstresses worked with a single needle, Rarity maintained dozens, all while chatting and never losing track of the conversation. She improvised on the fly, adding pockets to imaginative, unexpected places. Rarity was, perhaps, the finest fashionista of her era, and her career was only just starting.
“Image is everything, darling,” Rarity said while she worked. “Do keep in mind, your co-workers are a big part of that image. If they look good, you look good. There is a lot to be said for working together as a team, and not striking out on your own, leaving them to fend for themselves.”
Nodding, Flicker committed these words to heart. Rarity was an older voice of experience and she was the Element of Generousity. Flicker’s sense of order left him with no choice but to obey her.
“One pony on their own, in a professional environment, that pony is a target. Others will plot and conspire against you with the hopes of replacing you, or using you to climb the ladder of success. But a group of competent friends that present a united front, that work together, and more importantly, they work together to make each other look good, that group is so much harder to approach and overcome. Ladder climbers will find some other way to clamber up to where they wish to be that doesn’t involve so much work.”
Again, these words were committed to memory. Flicker had to make Piper and Hennessy look good somehow. Already, Flicker’s slow, but powerful intelligence began to think of ways to accomplish this, it was a job like any other and any job could be done, and done well, if one broke it down into the simple, most easy to manage pieces.
“It occurs to me that the Rat Catcher’s Guild involves so much more than dealing with rats. I’ve been to some of the soirées that they throw. There are a lot of very influential ponies within the guild and they shape much of our social policy. The nobles are content to give over their middle foals to the guild, as that is the thing to do. It is a sign of prestige among the upper echelons of society to say that one of your sons or daughters works for the guild.”
This was true. Right away, Flicker thought of Moonlit Gambit, from the Gambit family. Moonlit was five years older and was one of the middle foals of his family. The firstborn would get the inheritance of course, because that was the way it was, and Moonlit was expected to provide for his family in other ways. Having a son or a daughter working at the Weeping Sister Hospital, that was a good way to get social prestige, or joining one of Canterlot’s many guilds.
Moonlit and Flicker were evenly matched, often dueled together as sparring partners, and Moonlight was one of the few older apprentices that would willingly talk to Flicker outside of professional obligation and guild business. There was a fencing exam coming up soon and Flicker knew he would be facing Moonlit in open bloody combat.
“The guild takes anypony,” Flicker said in a low voice, “rich or poor. We do not discriminate. Many a poor soul has found themselves among the nobles after a lifetime of service to the guild. We are a society based upon merit and we are technocrats. If you wish to move up in the guild, one must build up a worthwhile skillset or develop a specialised niche that only you can do well.”
“Technocrats.” Rarity said the word and reacted as if she was sipping a fine wine for the first time. “Technocrats. I must say, this is the first time I am hearing this word. It is a word heavy with implications and fraught with meaning.”
“The most qualified are put in charge. We base everything upon merit. We don’t care if you are a prince or a lowly beggar, you will earn your place and your standing in the guild. Nothing is given. In our ranks, anypony can rise to the top, all one has to do is work for it. Become an engineer, become a doctor of some sort, become a scientist, become a wizard, develop a highly technical and specialised skillset that very few ponies can do. Talent is recognised and rewarded. Mediocrity is drummed out and hammered down. Mediocrity is just another form of the plague that cripples society and holds it back. Mister Chandler said that mediocrity is bureaucracy, a coalition of the moronic and the perverse that retards the growth of society, and we technocrats must hold ourselves to a higher standard to allow society to flourish.”
“So, a society that holds you accountable and requires that you educate yourself to advance… fascinating, simply fascinating.” Rarity pulled out an assortment of antique brass buttons, snaps, rivets, and studs. “It becomes easy to see why the nobles use the guild as a sort of finishing school. Do hold still, darling, I’m worried about bumping your side.”
That was easy enough to do. Flicker became a statue and didn’t move. It was the simplest of all commands, yet so many apprentices failed at it.
“And you, what do you plan to do with your future?” Rarity asked.
“Kill rats,” Flicker replied without thought or hesitation. “That’s my skillset. It’s what I do. You can’t see it right now, for obvious reasons, but my cutie mark is a flaming rat.”
“I approve!” Rarity’s voice became shrill. “Filthy, disgusting, horrible little monsters… ugh!”
It was at that moment that Flicker realised that he liked Rarity. He liked her a great deal. Rarity was a wonderful pony, a white pony in Flicker’s black and white world. Ponies placed into the white category, ponies such as Fancy Pants and Fleur Dis Lee, these were ponies to be protected and respected, without question or doubt.
Almost as an afterthought, Flicker realised that he needed to pay, and he and Rarity had never discussed price. Feeling a bit alarmed, he decided that it was time to make a polite inquiry into the cost of his coat, but he wasn’t quite sure how to do that and Doctor Sterling wasn’t here for guidance. Flicker realised that he was on his own, and it unnerved him.
“Ma’am, about my payment for this coat…”
“No payment required,” Rarity said in a dismissive voice as she made a gesture with her hoof.
“What?” Flicker blinked a few times as his brain tried to process what had just been said.
“I’m going to write all of this off as research and development and as a materials exercise. Twilight will get a bill that she won’t mind paying, I get valuable experience for working with exotic materials, which is something difficult and costly to come by, and you get a nice coat. Everypony goes home happy.”
“Okay.” Flicker tried to think of what to say, and could only come up with one thing. “Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t mention it, my darling colt. I’ve been getting bored with my projects lately, and this was just what I needed, a breath of fresh air and some inspiration. This has given me ideas, and one cannot put a price on how valuable ideas and inspiration are.”
Rarity really was the Element of Generousity, Flicker realised. She was a pillar of equine society, and after a few minutes of intense thought, he aspired to be more like her, deciding that she was worthwhile role-model material, like Mister Chandler or Doctor Sterling. Not only did he have a coat, but now he had a sense of gratitude to keep him warm.
“Almost finished, darling… you do a remarkable job of holding still!”
Where did one buy a fart whistle? Standing just outside of Carousel Boutique, Flicker didn’t know. A toy store perhaps? There was a shop that specialised in prank goods. As he stood there, trying to think of what to do, a group of unicorns passed and he watched them go by. They were lead by a blue mare with a dazzling smile, and at her heels was a little pale, cream coloured colt. Walking just behind was a lemony yellow mare, also smiling, and laughing as well. Bringing up the rear was a pearlescent mare that did not smile, she looked fierce and stern.
An idea germinated in his mind.
“Excuse me, Ma’am…”
The procession of mares and one little colt stopped, with the lemony yellow one bumping into the blue one, and then blushing. Flicker was aware of how he looked, and the pearlescent white mare was sizing him up to see if he might be trouble. Making no sudden moves, Flicker smiled and did his best to look friendly.
“My little sister wants a fart whistle.” Flicker could hear the lemony yellow mare giggling as he continued, “As you have a colt, I thought that you might know where to look for such things.” As Flicker watched, the trio of mares moved into a protective formation around the little colt in their midst, and he had the feeling that he was dealing with overprotective mothers. Three of them. Now was not a time to make sudden moves.
It was the lemony one that replied. “Oh, I don’t think our little guy would play with a fart whistle much, but now I want one—”
“Lemon, don’t even think about it!” the pearlescent mare said in a grumpy sounding deadpan.
“—but I think the best place to look would be Frazzle Dazzle’s Prank Palace.”
“Lemon, why?” the blue mare groaned.
“What’s a fart whistle?” the colt asked, looking owlish with his round eyeglasses.
Flicker shrugged, he didn’t know, all he did know was that his sister wanted one.
“Even if Frazzle doesn’t have them, he’ll know where to look and can tell you where to go.” The lemony mare beamed, buoyed by her own helpfulness, and she ignored the eye rolling and groans of protest coming from her companions. “Best of luck, we must be going.”
“Thank you.” As Flicker watched, the mares departed, surrounding the colt, and the lemony yellow one was giggling as she teased the white one. The blue one said a sharp word to quiet the yellow one, but it was ignored. The exchange was continued and the colt started laughing.
Flicker thought they looked happy together.
Frazzle Dazzle’s Prank Palace was a place of horror that Flicker never wanted to enter ever again. Adjusting his collar, he moved away from the shop in a hurry with his sister’s fart whistle stowed in a pocket. He hoped that his mother would forgive him and it occurred to him that he should get her something nice as well. Now, he had candies to purchase, and he decided that he would get some for Piper and Hennessy as well.
The streets of Ponyville were wide, meandering, and made of dirt for the most part. There was a feeling of openness here, as Ponyville had plenty of room to spread out. As he passed in front of a row of shops, he saw a wooden sign with a big coffee bean on it. Upon spotting it, he veered for the door, knowing what to get his mother and father. Gourmet roast coffee. Perhaps something Canterlot styled, something exotic and different.
It was at that moment that Flicker’s brain smacked him with an important fact. He might have been born and raised in Ponyville, but he was a Canterlot pony now. He was a pony with disposable income, a desire to spend, and he was engaging in conspicuous consumption, something he had learned about in one of his classes about the social behaviours of equines.
He could buy regular coffee from the market or the grocery store, but he was choosing to go into this shop, which would no doubt be very expensive. Flicker became the victim of his own education and had something of a brain meltdown as he understood the why of what he was doing. Was the truffle infused coffee from this shop better than the truffle infused coffee from the market?
Standing in front of the window, he looked in and sniffed the air, which was filled with the heady aroma of toasty-roasty coffee. In the window display, there were signs promising exotic blends from Windia, the Grittish Isles, and other far off locales. Drooling just a little, he thought about all of the wonderful flavours that could be had in here. The hot, moist air from his nose fogged up the window just a little bit as he stood staring at the display.
Would his parents even notice the difference?
After a few seconds of intense thinking, he decided that his parents were worth the difference and as he took a few steps towards the door, Flicker had one final, curious thought about life and its strangeness:
The coffee bean had won the popularity contest, much to the dismay of the lima bean.