//------------------------------// // Act I: Rainbow Flash // Story: 16 // by AlwaysDressesInStyle //------------------------------// Gaitlinburg: twelve years, ten months, and twenty days ago Ring! Recess, finally. Equestrian is so boring. I speak good already, why do I need to learn fancy words? Most of the other unicorns gathered on the side of the playground to ‘practice’ their magic. Really, all they were doing was showing off to each other. My horn sparked at the thought, a common occurrence. I had little interest in magic, so I hadn’t even learned the basic spells. Like school, magic was just a distraction, and my horn was just unnecessary weight. I already know what I want to be when I grow up. My cutie mark hasn’t come in, yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I don’t need to waste time on things that aren’t important. I joined a group consisting mostly of earth ponies and a few pegasi, and some of them groaned as soon as they saw me coming. It was good-natured though, an acknowledgment that they’d already lost. A few colts seemed to think they had a chance, and one of them grinned at me and volunteered to race me first. “To the tree and back. First one across the line wins.” As if either of us needed the rules explained to us – all of us had run the course so many times we ran it in our sleep. I stared at the line in the dirt, and crouched down into a starting position. My overconfident opponent mirrored my pose, and with a stomp of hooves from the starter, we were off and running. Heart pounding, grass under my hooves, wind in my mane, I had three lengths on him by the time I got to the tree, and I’d already rounded it before he got to it. He gave up at the tree, but I didn’t. Quitters never win. If I want to be the fastest runner in Equestria, I can’t back off just because my opponent does. I thoroughly trounced all comers, as usual. I really need better competition. I sighed. Recess was over, and it was time to head back to class. Mrs. Bobtail droned on and I tuned her out. It took all my energy not to fall asleep in class – that would certainly get me into trouble. “Rainbow Flash.” Ugh, she’s calling on me and I didn’t even hear the question. “If you have two apples, and I give you three more, what do you have?” “Lunch.” The class cracked up and Mrs. Bobtail gave me a look that only teachers and mothers could manage. A look that said my sorry flank was hers. “See me after school.” The bell sounded at three o’clock, and I tried to join my classmates in vacating the building, but found my path blocked by Mrs. Bobtail. My plan to slip out with everypony else thwarted, I looked up at the old nag. “Rainbow.” “Mrs. Bobtail.” “You’re failing everything but gym. You can’t do basic math, you can barely write anything, and having somepony read to you is not reading. It’s obvious that you’re not taking your studies seriously. I know you’re planning on being a great athlete, but that means nothing if you don’t get an education. Let’s say you beat the odds and become one of Equestria’s top athletes. If you can’t write, how are you going to sign autographs? How will you write a best-selling autobiography? If you can’t add or subtract, how will you manage your money? If you can’t read and you play a team sport, how will you read the playbook?” I had no answer to that. Those were all valid points I hadn’t considered. “What if the worst happens? You break a leg in training and miss your chance to go to the big leagues. Then what? You have no practical skills to fall back on.” My heart sank. That was my worst nightmare. “You’re going to stay every day after school until we get your grades up to where they belong. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Bobtail.” Gaitlinburg: twelve years, two months, and eighteen days ago Even without practicing after school, I had remained the school’s fastest runner by a wide margin. With a lot of help from Mrs. Bobtail, I managed to pass kindergarten. First grade was a new start, and I refused to make the same mistake again. This time around I took my schooling seriously so I could focus on what I really wanted to do after school. The local athletic club had a track team, and while I was way too young to be an official member, Coach Bay had no problem letting me train with the team. I was faster than some of the adults, spurring some of them to train harder, and others to drop out completely. Nopony wanted to be beaten by a kid. Many of the ponies at the club were preparing for the Equestria Games, hoping to represent Gaitlinburg in front of a national audience. I wouldn’t be eligible for another dozen years or so, but earning a few gold medals was my dream. Someday. “Rainbow!” “Coach!” I nuzzled him. “What’s first?” He chuckled. “I wish everypony else on the team was as enthusiastic as you are. Let’s start with warm-ups. Two laps around the track at a trot. Don’t let me catch you galloping.” I groaned. “But warming up is boring!” “You don’t want to hurt yourself out there.” He stomped a hoof. “Now get going!” “Yes, coach!” The sun was shining down on me, and I enjoyed the warmth on my flanks as I trotted the lazy laps. It took all my will not to burst into a gallop. It was mid-autumn, but the Running of the Leaves was still a few weeks away, and temperatures had yet to plunge dramatically. After two easy laps I hadn’t even broken a sweat, but that wouldn’t last once everypony else showed up and we started training for real. When I was done, I moved on to stretches, knowing well that Coach Bay wouldn’t let me get a head start on practice. Ugh, where is everypony? “Rainbow! Team meeting in the club.” I groaned. Meetings are a waste of time. We run. There’s not all that much need for discussion. I galloped to the building, making up for the lost practice time as best I could. “Surprise!” I stopped in my tracks and looked around. Streamers, balloons, a massive cake… I was just here an hour ago. It wasn’t decorated then. “Get your hooves up, party’s starting out right now. Everypony, everypony get down. Time to make a wish, better make it right now. It’s been a year and today’s your birthday party. Make a wish, it’s your birthday! Make a wish, it’s your birthday party.” “My birthday’s not ‘til tomorrow.” Country Roads placed a party hat on my head and I gave up protesting. It was obvious we weren’t going to spend any time training. They’d even gotten me presents: water bottles, t-shirts, headbands, and more – all branded with the club’s logo. Not that I minded; I was proud to be part of the club and my parents rarely bought me any of their merchandise. We had cake, potato chips, ice cream, and all manner of sweets and snacks that had no business being served in an athletic club. I didn’t get any training in for the day aside from my warm-up and stretches. The sugar rush had died down by the time the party wrapped up, and Coach Bay was insistent that running after eating so heavily was a bad idea. I was so tired that I couldn’t even walk home. My friends didn’t want to stop the party, and it got late and my eyelids started getting heavy. I nestled on her back as Country Roads took me home, back to the place I belonged. Gaitlinburg: twelve years, two months, and seventeen days ago I woke up early the next morning and went for a jog. Between the previous evening’s activities and today’s planned agenda, I knew I needed to squeeze in some running time. A casual jog wasn’t my preferred speed, but I didn’t want to upset my tummy. I shouldn’t have eaten so much cake. My legs feel like weights. Gaitlinburg is a tourist trap. I reminded myself that the city boasts more wedding chapels than any other city in Equestria, save Las Pegasus. Gaitlinburg was also a fraction of the size of the other city, which led to the curious arrangement of the city’s downtown. Restaurant, wedding chapel, movie theater, wedding chapel, Royal Guard station, wedding chapel… You couldn’t pass more than two buildings without one of them being a chapel. It meant that I couldn’t really run, or even jog, in my neighborhood. I’d be tripping over ponies and getting underhoof at the most inopportune times. I knew that from experience. So I power walked to the park, and once there I set off on my jog. It was a crisp fall day, and there was a biting chill to the air. It was better weather for flat out galloping, to help keep from overheating, but it would do for a jog. I pulled my favorite scarf around my neck – all the colors of the rainbow, I always felt like I was dressed in style whenever I wore it. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my birthday than running, but I knew that my party guests had no interest in such an activity. So I had to get it out of my system early. I still felt full from the previous day, and it made my workout harder. I had to push through and overcome my stomachache. I wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop me from being the fastest runner in Equestria. Even if I limited my top speed to a trot, I spent two hours at the pace. If I couldn’t focus on speed, I’d work on building endurance. I lost myself in the colors of autumn as I ran. The park’s trail was only five miles long and I covered it repeatedly in those two hours. It gave me time to pick out the prettiest tree in the park – an oak that had half-turned and had a near rainbow of green, yellow, and red leaves. That, in turn, reminded me that the Running of the Leaves was a little more than a month away. I’d been running the course for years, and had long since memorized it. This year my parents had finally decided I was old enough to compete, even if I didn’t have my cutie mark just yet. I was hoping it would come in before then, of course, but I’d be running regardless. Mrs. Bobtail’s nagging hadn’t been wasted on me. My horn glowed and I opened my saddlebags. I’d started taking magic lessons as seriously as schoolwork. I was still too shaky to levitate my canteen out of my bag, but at least the flap was out of the way. Someday I’d be able to drink on the run. It’s funny how once the practical applications of learning magic became obvious, learning it became more appealing. Just think, if I’d started practicing when everypony else did, I’d be levitating things by now. I paused at the pretty oak to gulp down water. A tapping sound caught my attention, and I lifted my head to look in the branches of the tree to find a woodpecker pecking away at it. I chuckled. Well, not every creature can appreciate the aesthetics the way ponies can. I practiced levitating my canteen back into my saddlebag. I could do it, just not while I was moving. It didn’t hurt that I’d drained it, so it was also lighter than it had been a few moments earlier. Once it was safely tucked away, I continued my trot around the park. Three more laps. I’m out of water, so I can’t go past that. Normally I’d bring more water with me, but I needed to force myself to be home by eleven. I needed time to take a bath and make myself pretty before my party. I almost hated to admit how relaxing the trotting was. Normally when I traversed this path, my hooves flung clods of dirt as I thundered around the park in a never-ending quest to beat my best time. Maybe I’ll start doing a warm-up lap and a cooldown lap at a trot. The slower pace had given me the opportunity to observe things I normally missed, nor had it terrified the local wildlife. No birds had yet to fly off, startled, nor had rabbits or squirrels dashed away from my noisy approach. Two more laps. On this circuit, I challenged myself to spot at least a dozen different types of birds. Blue jay. Cardinal. Sparrow. Crow. Falcon. Goldfinch. Quail! Almost missed that one. Too busy watching the sky instead of the bushes. Oriole. I looked as I passed the colorful oak, but the woodpecker was gone, so I couldn’t count it. Just need four more. As I closed in on the finish line, I spotted a swift, bringing my final total to only nine. Disappointed, I started my final lap with no particular challenge in mind. I heard familiar tapping, and there was that pesky woodpecker again. Where were you last lap? I stuck my tongue out at the bird as I passed. Exercise finished, I trotted home. Building stamina wasn’t as thrilling as working on my speed, but just as necessary. Even the fastest runner can’t win a race if she doesn’t finish. Once home, I drew a bath and slipped into the hot water, letting the heat ease the pain in my sore muscles, the scent of the raspberry bath bomb I’d dropped in tickling my nose. The radio on the window sill was playing some sentimental sappy ballad. Sapphire Shores maybe? Coloratura? Songbird Serenade? Today’s pop songs all sound the same to me. Give me classical music any day. I stayed in the tub until the water started cooling, then showered to clean off. You know, everyone has this horrible misconception that I’m a tomboy, just because I like athletics. I like dressing up too! Like almost every filly, I like feeling pretty and special. I wish everypony would understand that. Most fillies and colts my age hated baths, let alone showers, but a piping hot bath was the closest I could get to a spa treatment at home to relax my muscles. As for following it with a shower, soaking in a bath might be relaxing, but you end up laying in all the filth washed off your own body. Considering the sweat I’d accumulated while trotting, that water was nasty. Of course I wanted to wash it off. Once I dried off I put on my favorite dress – I always dress in style on my birthday. I managed to make it downstairs before the guests started arriving, even if my hair was still a little damp. Sweetie Blue was the first to arrive, and she flopped on the couch next to me. An aspiring baker, she was the only one in our class with a cutie mark. I was, like everypony else in class, jealous when she got hers first, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that I already knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. That meant was only a matter of time before I earned my mark too. Sweetie had left a present on the table by the door – something I’d open later, during the party, but as we sat on the couch she pulled a muffin out of her saddlebag. I drooled a little as the scents of bananas and nuts battled for superiority. “I know you’re probably planning on having cake later, but I really wanted to make you something special for your birthday. Something that comes from the heart instead of the store.” I nuzzled her, then bit into the scrumptious treat. Still warm – she must’ve just finished baking it before coming over. It was just as tasty as it smelled, and she smiled as I savored every last bite. Something tells me I’m not running tomorrow either. Totally worth it. Mom had extended invitations to everypony in my class, though there were a few that I’d been hoping wouldn’t attend. Those hopes were dashed when they walked in. Together. Hardwood, and her ever-present shadow, Milk Toast. It wasn’t that I disliked either of them. If they were bullies, I’d have put my hoof down. Instead, they tended toward troublemaking, often sweeping up the rest of us in their mischief. Having them here, in my house, worried me. It feels a little like inviting a lion in, and then pouring ketchup over myself and everyone I love. The rest of the guests arrived in turn and the party began in earnest. The piñata shaped like Grogar from Gusty The Great was smashed to pieces in short order, and the candy inside was consumed just as quickly. Then we played pin the tail on the princess, before it was time for cake. My parents had gone all-out, getting a giant ice cream cake for the occasion. Even with a dozen of my classmates, we’d only managed to polish off less than half of the cake. I looked forward to finishing it off a slice at a time over the next few weeks. Then I opened presents and we played some more games. By then it was evening, and we all retired to my room. It wasn’t a school night, and most of my friends were staying over for a slumber party. Unfortunately, that included Hardwood and Milk Toast. Once we were upstairs and away from the prying eyes of my parents, Hardwood placed a soda bottle on the floor and announced the next activity: spin the bottle. Most of the fillies looked excited by that prospect, while I could see the colts nervously eying the door, except for one pegasus who was instead looking toward the window as his own escape route. The fillies had all taken seats, including me. We were watching the colts to see if any of them would be brave enough to sit down, or if they’d try fleeing. “I’m in.” Cauliflower Sprout sat down between two fillies. Of course, it didn’t matter where he would’ve chosen to sit in the circle. As the first colt to join us, he would’ve been between two fillies regardless. One by one the rest of the colts took seats as well. “Birthday girl goes first!” Thanks for putting me on the spot, Hardwood. I spun the bottle, not really caring who it selected for me. I didn’t have any crushes on my classmates. It was a little amusing to see who I’d have to kiss once it stopped spinning. Irony of ironies, it pointed straight at Hardwood. So I kissed her, right on the lips. Ha! I bet you regret picking this game now! “Well, Hardwood, your turn. I hope the bottle picks a better kisser for you than the one I got stuck with.” Some of my classmates chuckled at that, but Hardwood was uncharacteristically quiet. She spun the bottle, almost absently. It landed on Milk Toast, who looked quite enthused at that prospect. By the time the game was over, I think almost everypony had kissed everypony else at least once. My take away from that was that Sweetie Blue was the best kisser in our class. Though that may have been mostly because her lips tasted like cupcakes. Gaitlinburg: twelve years, two months, and ten days ago I’d been sluggish all week, and at first I blamed it on overindulging on sweets and treats on my birthday. But that couldn’t explain why my muscles were sore. I felt exhausted, and it was a struggle just to move my legs. Pain is just weakness leaving the body. I forced myself onward, inwardly embarrassed at my laziness. A few days of a less intense workout routine and I fall apart. How pathetic! I pushed myself down my favorite trail, but I couldn’t make it. Running was impossible, and even just walking had become difficult. Worse, I could barely breathe. Gaitlinburg: twelve years, two months, and nine days ago I blinked. I must’ve passed out while running. Where am I? The last thing I could remember was being on the trail, but now I was in a bed… curiously not my own. “Don’t move.” I didn’t recognize the voice, which was all the more reason not to obey it. That proved more difficult than I’d imagined, as my body refused to obey my commands. “Rainbow Flash? I’m Dr. Gentle Touch. You’re in Gaitlinburg Regional Hospital.” An orchid unicorn materialized in my field of view. I couldn’t see her cutie mark, however, and moving wasn’t really an option. “What happened?” “You collapsed in the park yesterday. I need to ask you some questions. First of all, what do you remember?” I explained everything to the doctor – how I’d overeaten, then struggled to maintain my normal exercise regimen in the days since. Then I told her that most of muscles were sore, and how I’d been having trouble breathing as I continued trying to run. Much to my dismay, I realized that breathing was still hard. “You have poliomyelitis. Or, as it’s known to most ponies, polio.” I gasped. I didn’t know what that was, but it sounded bad. “My next question is very important.” She once more entered my limited line of sight. “Have you kissed anypony in the last three weeks?” I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. “Yes.” “Who?” I blushed even harder as I started listing off the names of most of my classmates. Dr. Touch just looked dumbstruck after the tenth name. “My birthday was last week and we played spin the bottle. I kissed almost everypony there.” “I need a list of everypony who was at your birthday party. Even the ponies you didn’t kiss. This is very important.” I recited the names again, and a nurse copied them all down. Then she left, off to track down everypony who’d been at my party. Nopony was ever going to accuse me of being brilliant, but it didn’t take a genius to realize this disease must be highly contagious. Great, my classmates will forever remember my party as the place they all got sick. My parents were in the room – I could tell they’d spent the night. Mom’s cheeks were stained with dried tears, and Dad looked like he hadn’t slept in three moons. “We’ll be here for you, sweetie,” Dad promised. There was no false promise that everything would be okay. I was thankful that my parents didn’t patronize me, though part of me yearned to hear the words anyway. I couldn’t express my thoughts, however, as I’d used all my energy to list off the ponies who’d been at my party. Breathing shouldn’t be so hard. Even when I’d been galloping flat out for miles I’d never struggled so hard just to breathe. It wasn’t long before I was moved to a different room. There were rows of long metallic tubes and the doctor placed me inside one of them. Then she closed it and I was trapped inside, except for my head and neck, which stuck out one of the ends and rested on a pillow. The tube was tight against my neck – not so tight that I couldn’t breathe, but just tight enough to be uncomfortable. Like the apron they use at the manestylist to keep hair clippings from getting all over. Dr. Touch assured me that was to make it airtight. And then she turned it on and I could breathe again. Or rather, the machine breathed for me. Soft Touch called it an iron lung. It was horrible and wonderful all at the same time. “The bad news is that you aggravated your symptoms by trying to force your exercise routine. The good news is that because you’re in wonderful physical condition, you should be able to beat this in time. Some ponies have to rely on iron lungs for the rest of their lives. With a little luck, you might not need it any more after a few months.” Months?!? I can’t be out of commission for months. I’ll have to start my training from scratch! My muscles will be mushcles. This can’t be happening. Gaitlinburg: eleven years, eleven months, and nineteen days ago Half of my classmates had been infected with polio at my party. None of them had it as badly as I did, though. Only Milk Toast had also required the use of an iron lung, and she’d only needed it for a couple of months. I was the only one still down for the count. The hours dragged by in the hospital. My parents were at work and my classmates were back in school. My only company were the nurses who checked on me periodically. I busied myself with strengthening my magical field. My muscles had atrophied, so I was reliant on my magic to do as much as possible. It was somewhat ironic how I’d gone from not caring about magic at all to practicing it with the fervor I’d once spent on training myself to be a better runner. I concentrated as I levitated half a dozen objects around the hospital room. It required finesse to manipulate so many things simultaneously without dropping any of them. Increased magical proficiency was the only upside to my prolonged hospital stay. I couldn’t see the clock from my vantage point in the iron lung, and I was in a basement with no natural light. I think they did that intentionally so patients couldn’t watch the clock. Time drags by slowly when you can’t move and there’s nopony to talk to. “Well if it isn’t my favorite patient.” I looked up. Which wasn’t hard since that was about the extent of my mobility. A nurse I didn’t recognize was looking down at me. From my vantage point she was upside down. But she was smiling, and her long blonde mane spilled over her face, obscuring most of it. She opened the iron lung and helped me into a wheelchair, then pushed me to the restroom. She waited outside, which I appreciated. Some of the other nurses insisted on accompanying me. I was weak, not completely crippled, and it irritated me when ponies tried to take what little independence I had left from me. Once I was done, I returned to the wheelchair. Instead of immediately wheeling me back to the iron lung like usual, the nurse pointed the wheelchair toward the exit. “I thought maybe you could use a little fresh air, sugar. It’s probably been a while since you were outside.” I nodded. “Thank you.” “No problem, sweetie.” She hummed a little tune, which I vaguely recognized as a popular duet between Kenneigh Rogers and Dolly Hearton. When she reached Dolly’s solo lines I sang along. “I can't live without you if the love was gone…” I caught a hint of amusement in her humming when I started singing, but I didn’t care. I knew I probably wasn’t in tune, but who cared if a little filly could carry a tune. I sang because it felt great to be out of the iron lung, because it felt good to be outside, and it felt good just to be alive. So I sang because I could. The nurse joined me in the duet, singing Kenneigh’s part. “Sail away,” she sang. “Ooh, come sail away with me,” I answered. We turned the corner and she stopped pushing me. I heard some chuckling and I opened my eyes and was shocked to see my parents, my teacher, and all my classmates waiting. “Bet you’re not used to singing Kenneigh’s part, are you, Dolly?” It suddenly dawned on me just who was pushing me when my ‘nurse’ giggled. “She started singing along, so I just adapted accordingly.” “Dolly Hearton?” I turned around to get a better look and gasped. “Oh my gosh! It is you!” Dolly was Gaitlinburg’s most famous resident – she’d had a very successful music career, and had a number of business ventures in the town, including an amusement park I’d been fond of going to back when I had more mobility. “What are you doing here?” “It came to my attention you’d been stuck in the hospital for a while. I figured you could use a little good news. What would you say if I said you could go home today?” “I’d jump for joy.” I sighed as I remembered that was impossible at the moment. “If my legs would let me.” “I’ve made some arrangements for you.” She patted my head. She’d shrugged off the scrubs to reveal an elegant blue dress underneath. Form-fitting, it flattered her figure nicely without being pretentious. Our entourage trotted through Gaitlinburg to my home, where I found my bed had been pushed into a corner to make room for my own personal iron lung. There was also a pile of books, which Dolly assured me would help pass the time and ease the boredom. She promised that when I finished these, there’d be more waiting for me. I thanked her and she nuzzled me. Then she left, as did most of my classmates. My teacher gave me my latest assignments, then also took her leave. That left only Sweetie Bluer, who asked if she could spend the night. I was thrilled to have the company, and my parents quickly agreed. Gaitlinburg: eleven years, one month, and three days ago Mom had quit her job to stay home and take care of me, so I saw her more often. I had her company, and I had a never-ending supply of books to read. I was at the mercy of whatever was sent to me, and not all of the books truly appealed to me. But reading was something to do, and I hoped that with all the variety, I’d eventually discover my special talent. I’d given up on my dream of being Equestria’s fastest runner. It was obvious that I’d be lucky just to walk again someday. That meant finding a new passion. That was easier said than done. I’d always been so focused on just one thing that I’d never developed interest in anything else. I’d even considered my horn merely unnecessary weight for the longest time. But times had changed, and I’d been building my field strength as I now relied on my horn for everything. I’d tried reading some of Starswirl’s works but quickly abandoned them. While magic was a great tool, magical theory wasn’t something that interested me. I had a lot more time on my hooves. At first, Sweetie Blue visited me daily, and she slept over almost every weekend. Then she started skipping days here and there, and I saw her less frequently as the months dragged by and I was still confined to the iron lung. Part of me wanted to resent her for that, but she’d stuck with me long after the rest of our classmates abandoned me. She had her own life to live, and I couldn’t say I’d have done any differently if the horseshoe had been on the other hoof. Nopony wanted to be stuck with the useless pony in the iron box. Part of me was bitter, but I directed that emotion toward the real source of my problems: polio. The disease that had taken my mobility, my friends, and even my talent from me. Giving up would be the easy thing to do. Equestria would take care of me and I’d never have to work a day in my life. I suppose some ponies would have thrown in the towel, but that wasn’t me. I was used to pushing myself to go even faster. How many times had I urged myself to keep going for just one more mile even when my legs were aching so bad I thought they’d fall off? I refused to give up. Maybe running is a pipe dream, but I swear to Celestia that I will get back to the point where I can walk more than a few wobbly steps. I will get out of this stupid iron lung. I rang the bell my Mom kept in the room to let her know when I needed her. She let me out of the iron lung and I shrugged off her help as I marched defiantly to the bathroom. I can do this. I took slow, determined steps, pausing every few paces to catch my breath. Mom hovered behind me, never interfering, but ready to swoop in at a moment’s notice. Twenty more steps. It took more than five minutes, but I made it to the bathroom without falling down even once. I grabbed a magazine in my aura and flipped it open. One of Mom’s fashion magazines, I laughed at what was passing for current trends. I could design something better than this. I thought back to the elegant dress Dolly Hearton had been wearing when I met her and realized I really could design something that looked better than what I saw in the magazine. My legs were burning, and as badly as I wanted to walk back to my room, I had ideas I wanted to get down on paper. I asked Mom to carry me back to my room and she did so without complaint, praising me for having made it all the way there on my own. Once I was back in my room I put my thoughts to paper and cringed at the results. What I saw in my head wasn’t what I saw on the paper. Just like learning to walk all over again, I was going to need to take baby steps. The first step was going to be learning how to properly draw ponies. I levitated one of my books over and traced a pony from an illustration. For now, I’ll have to cheat… I still wasn’t happy with my dress design when I was done with it. I had a vision in my head that I couldn’t quite translate to the sketch. I didn’t have anything better to do, so I kept practicing. Gaitlinburg: ten years, two months, and eight days ago I’d built up my respiratory muscles to the point where I could spend a few hours out of the iron lung each day. One hour in the morning, and another in the afternoon. I could push that to two in one sitting if I didn’t overexert myself. So I spent two hours every morning sitting at my desk, sketching, and one hour every afternoon building up my leg muscles. For that, I worked with a physical therapist, High Hopes. My therapy with her was radically different from my training from Coach Bay. The key was not to push myself too far. I could walk. Not well, and not for long, but that was what we were trying to fix. I’d had much more luck improving my art. I’d started with tracing, but I’d since gone on to drawing figures from scratch. At first I’d just drawn the same figure I’d traced over and over again. Then I switched to drawing ponies from different angles. I’d keep sketching the same angles over and over again, but with different subjects as the inspiration: various ages, genders, and body types. Once I felt I had a good grip on a particular angle, I moved on to a new one. It helped me envision the outfit; how it would move with the pony wearing it. I found that I really liked dynamic poses – action shots sold me on the design, so hopefully they’d also sell my potential customers on them. Once I felt I had a good enough grip on the design side, I started on the production side. My first few attempts were awful. My next attempts were only slightly less awful. The less said about those monstrosities the better – they haunted my nightmares for weeks. I was thankful Mom had ignored my pleas to buy the good fabric. Instead, I’d ruined only scraps and remnants, and felt better for knowing that I hadn’t wasted anything of value. Mom had taken on a part-time job; one she could work from home so she was available when I needed help. Which was less often than it had been, but still more frequently than I would’ve liked. The doorbell rang and I ignored it – another of Mom’s clients. I did my best to not bother her when she was working directly with somepony, but they were all aware Mom might sometimes need to interrupt their meeting if I needed something. I hated that feeling of weakness. I used to say ‘pain is just weakness leaving the body’ but this was a different kind of weakness. A feeling of helplessness that no amount of training or physical therapy could overcome. I was sketching absentmindedly. I let my mind wander a bit when I was in the zone. I found it helped my inspiration to follow my thoughts. If they were serious thoughts, I tended to sketch more formal attire. Mostly suits for stallions. If they were fun thoughts, I ended up with elegant bridal dresses. Dark thoughts… the less said about my goth phase the better. Since I was feeling scared, I’d gone the formal route and drawn a tuxedo. It was a little dreary though, and I livened it up with some accessories. “Not bad, darling. If it was me, I’d add in a few diamonds, but working with gems is my specialty.” I turned around to face my visitor. Rarity?!? Oh my gosh! The hottest new designer in Equestria? And she’s critiquing my designs! My mind was galloping a mile a minute, but my mouth was muttering gibberish. I must’ve fallen asleep. This has to be a dream – there’s no other way to explain this. “Rarity. Charmed to meet you.” She curtseyed, and I slowly stood up to do the same. “No need to get up on my account, darling.” Her horn glowed and she shuffled through my sketches. “I sense a theme here. Wedding dresses, bridesmaid dresses, and tuxedos. Hopeless romantic?” “Gaitlinburg is the wedding capital of Equestria. I just plan on giving ponies what they need.” “I suppose that makes sense. I commend your business sense – it’ll serve you well in the years to come.” She frowned as she put my sketches down. “How about you show me some of the things you’ve designed just because inspiration hit? Something that isn’t wedding related.” That was a much smaller stack, and I levitated them over to her, hoping she wouldn’t point out the obvious. Rarity’s eye for detail was well-known, so there was no way she was going to miss something so blatantly obvious. “Hmn.” She looked from the sketches to me. “Yes, I do think all of these would look good on you.” I blushed. I’d drawn myself as the model. All of them were supposed to be things I made for myself. Practice before moving on to bigger and better things. If I wasn’t willing to be seen wearing something I’d created, how could I possibly expect anypony else to want to wear my wares? “And the genuine articles, darling?” “Er…” I opened my dresser drawer with my magic and floated a few of my better attempts to her. They were all very much works in progress. She briefly examined them, and to her credit, she didn’t cringe at all. Which was good, because I was cringing enough for the both of us. I watched as she started pulling stitches out of one of my ‘garments’, disassembling the piece to its base components. “Please grab hold of this fabric with your magic, darling. I’m going to resew this, and I want you to feel what I’m doing and how I’m doing it.” She taught me the ins and outs of sewing, or at least as much as she could cram into her visit. I hadn’t wanted to get back in the iron lung, but both Mom and Rarity insisted I do so. Rarity stayed despite my lack of mobility, and even showed me how to adjust my techniques to account for laying on my back instead of sitting or standing. Once she felt I had a good grasp on what she’d taught me, she disassembled another of my practice attempts and had me resew it from scratch several times until she was satisfied with the results. She admitted to being a perfectionist and urged me to always strive for the highest possible standards. When Rarity finally bid me adieu hours later, I felt confident in my abilities for the first time since I was running. My mind was overloaded and I felt both tired and inspired simultaneously. I sketched dresses from my confinement in the iron lung, pressing the paper against the ceiling so as not to push the quill through the paper. Again. Mom sat down on my neglected bed – it had been well over a year since the last time Sweetie Blue had stayed over. I’d repurposed it as a display area for my plush toys. I felt they added a splash of color, and some much needed life, to a room dominated by the metallic cylinder that kept me alive. “Did you enjoy your surprise?” I nodded to the best of my ability. “How did you get Rarity to come here? She’s the hottest designer in Equestria right now!” “She came here on behalf of the Catch-A-Wish Foundation.” Mom ran a hoof through my mane. “She’s a very kind-hearted pony.” I chuckled. “Mother! Fluttershy’s kindness. Rarity’s generosity.” “Kindness and generosity go hoof in hoof.” She kissed my horn. “Love you, Flashy.” “Love you too, Mom.” Gaitlinburg: nine years, eight months, and twenty-one days ago Mom still hadn’t bought any quality fabric for me, but I’d proven proficient enough with a sewing needle to warrant an upgrade to full sheets of fabric, instead of a mishmash of whatever remnants she could scrounge up cheap. It meant I could finally make a dress. I started with one of my easiest designs and it turned out better than I expected. I would be proud to be seen in public wearing it. If only it was made out of sturdier material. I didn’t have high hopes for its durability, and if I was still as active as I had been when I was younger, there was no way it would survive even a week. But I was a lot slower than I’d once been. I’d continued building up my strength, and I’d reached the point where I only used the iron lung at night while sleeping, and on really bad days. I’d even gone back to school… somewhat. I was only going half days, twice a week. I never thought I’d be excited to go to school, but it was nice to get out of the house and see other ponies again. I’d reconnected with Sweetie Blue, and she walked me home from school every day. She’d even slept over a few times, just like old times. I appreciated the company far more than I could ever express. I really need to do something nice for her. “Mail call!” I looked up from the dress I was working on. I hope it’s the latest issue of Equestria’s Hottest Fashions. Instead it was a rather sizable box. I blinked. I wasn’t expecting any packages. I looked at the return address: Rarity’s Boutique in Ponyville. Oh my gosh! Rarity sent me something! I made short work of the package, revealing several dresses. I recognized the first three – they were my own designs, brought to life by Rarity with her trademark stunning elegance. The rest were all Rarity originals, and I gasped when I realized she’d sent me nearly a dozen of them. There was a letter tucked inside the top dress, and I opened it. Dear Rainbow Flash, I hope this letter finds you well! Forgive me my tardiness, I really wanted to have this ready a month ago, but I’ve been quite busy here, preparing for Fashion Week in Manehattan! This is my first time competing! But enough about me. I hope you don’t mind me beating you to the punch, as it were. Your designs were inspiring, and I couldn’t help myself. I suspect you’ll look absolutely radiant in these dresses. You have quite the eye for detail, darling, and it shows in your work. I’ve included a few Raritys as well, though I apologize that some of them are hoof-me-downs that my little sister, Sweetie Belle, has since outgrown. If you need any assistance tailoring them to fit you, don’t hesitate to contact me and I’ll be over to help as soon as possible. Your friend in fashion, Rarity I looked through the dresses again, though I couldn’t figure out which ones had previously been owned by her little sister. They all looked fantastic. Either her sister hadn’t worn them, or more likely Rarity had refurbished them before sending them my way. Looking at them I felt inspired. Dresses. Sweetie. I’d been looking for something nice I could do for Sweetie Blue. What could possibly be better than a dress designed especially for her? I started sketching. Gaitlinburg: nine years, eight months, and sixteen days ago Sweetie Blue had decided to stay the night, and she arrived as soon as school let out. I was much better company now that I didn’t need to stay in the iron lung. We played board games while she caught me up on the latest gossip from school. I saved my surprise until after we’d had dinner. Once we returned to my room I asked her to grab something from under the bed. She pulled out a box I’d wrapped with my scrap fabric remnants. I no longer needed them, and they were pretty much used up from all my practice attempts. “What’s this?” “A little something for you.” “But it’s not my birthday or Hearth’s Warming.” “Who says I can only give my bestie a present on special occasions? Go on and open it!” It wasn’t long before she revealed a purple and pink dress that worked well with her powder blue coat and two-tone pink hair. “Oh my gosh! It’s beautiful!” “Try it on.” She smiled as she slipped it over her head. She pranced over to the mirror on the back of my bedroom door and twirled slowly, the dress billowing around her. It was slipping off her in spots as she moved, but that didn’t surprise me. I didn’t have Sweetie Blue’s measurements, so I’d intentionally made it loose-fitting. I levitated my sewing supplies over to me. “Let’s make that fit better.” She stood still as I tailored her dress to fit. Once I was satisfied I had her walk across my room like she was strutting on a runway. She paused at the mirror and turned, examining the fitment in the reflection. “How’s your movement?” “Really good. This dress is amazing! Thank you so much!” I blushed. “Thank you for being my friend.” There was a flash of light, and I thought Sweetie had taken a photograph of herself in the dress. “Rainbow! You got your cutie mark! It’s pretty!” I turned to look at my flank. Oh my gosh! I was starting to lose hope that I’d ever get my mark. A rainbow over a sun poking through a cloud. I love it! Sweetie nuzzled me, and I rubbed my muzzle against hers. Gaitlinburg: nine years, four months, and twenty days ago I didn’t have money, but I had time on my hooves. Too much time on my hooves, in all honesty. I wanted to repay Rarity’s generosity, even though I know she would’ve appreciated the fact that I’d paid it forward to Sweetie Blue more. But I really wanted to do something nice for Rarity too. She was a very pretty unicorn – and quite an influential one, too. I’d found myself using the word ‘darling’ more frequently. It wasn’t even intentional on my part, I’d just slipped into the habit and found myself uninterested in breaking it. It became my goal to see her wearing something I’d designed and made myself. I couldn’t afford the best fabrics, but I saved up for months and bought the best within my budget. I didn’t have her measurements, but she was frequently featured on the pages of the fashion magazines I read, so I estimated as best I could from her pictures. She also made herself very accessible to the press, a point I made a mental note to remember in the future for my own career. It meant that she’d been the subject of many interviews, so discovering what she liked and disliked wasn’t difficult at all. I designed the dress accordingly. Dear Rarity, I’m doing well, and I hope you are too! I only use my iron lung at night now. When I’m sleeping, just in case. The doctor says I might not need to use it at all in another couple of years if I keep improving at the same rate. I also got my cutie mark! It’s a rainbow over a sun peeking through the clouds (see return address – I sketched it). That seems appropriate since the sun is finally starting to poke through the clouds that have been my life these past few years. You came into my life during my darkest hours and gave me a gift I can never repay: hope. When I was younger, I was the fastest runner in school and my dream was to win a gold medal in the Equestria Games. We both know that has no chance of happening now. I was wallowing in pity and self-doubt when I started dabbling in fashion. I jumped in with all four hooves, but I wasn’t getting very far with it until you trotted into my life. In a few short hours, you changed my life for the better, and I’ll never forget that. I apologize for the delay in my response. I wanted to have something to send along. I’ve gotten better thanks to your tutelage, and I wanted to share my latest creation with you. You do so much for so many other ponies, I wanted to give you something special. I know what you’re going to say, and I assure you that I’ve already paid your kindness forward. You’re not the first to be surprised with a Rainbow Flash original, nor will you be the last. Sincerely, Rainbow Flash I reread the letter one last time, then placed it in the box, which I sealed up and left for the mailmare to take. Canterlanta: five years, two months, and eleven days ago Once I felt my designs were durable enough, I started donating some of them to the Catch-A-Wish Foundation. It was a way I could give back – maybe someday I’d be famous and could donate time and money to the organization, but until then this was the best I could do. Or so I thought. I received a letter back from them, thanking me for my donation, and asking me to share my story with potential donors. How could I refuse? Sweetie Blue had tagged along for the trip, and she and my parents were sitting in the front row. It was nice to see familiar faces up front in that sea of strangers. I’d never done any public speaking before and I was nervous. I took out the speech I’d written for the occasion. All I have to do is read this and remember to make eye contact with the audience periodically. I can do this. I’ve read and reread these words a hundred times – they’re as good as they’re going to get. “Salutations. My name is Rainbow Flash, and it’s thanks to the donations of ponies like you that I’m able to stand in front of you tonight. Imagine, if you will, being a prisoner. The default mental image is of a dungeon or jail cell. Instead, picture your bedroom. The room isn’t the prison, rather it’s your body. Your mind is awake and alert, but the flesh is weak. You can command your legs to move, but they don’t. Even something involuntary, the very act of breathing, becomes difficult. To save you, they put you in a machine that breathes for you. The iron lung looks like a prison, but it’s not. It’s the only thing keeping you alive.” I paused to make sure everypony had the mental image. “I don’t need to imagine it. This was my life for years. I caught polio as a filly, and it’s taken me years to get to the point where I can stand here before you. I don’t use my iron lung much anymore. It’s there when I need it, but I’ve gotten stronger. It’s fortunate that I was physically fit before catching this nasty disease.” The slide projector showed images of my earlier years, when I was an athlete. “This was me before polio. I was a runner, the fastest in my school. I used to train with adults at the athletic club because I was in a different league than the rest of my peers. Pushing myself was what caused my condition to be so much worse than that of my classmates, many of whom caught it at the same time I did. I thought I’d overindulged at my birthday party, and that I just needed to push through and tough it out. It was the worst thing I could have done. I’ll never win a gold medal in the Equestrian Games. I limp and get winded way too easily these days, so my fillyhood dream is dead, taken from me by that cursed disease. I, however, am not. I’m very much alive to stand before you tonight.” Some of the ponies in the audience were crying at my story. I wasn’t – I’d long since shed the last tears I had for my past. “I might not be here right now if not for a lot of ponies coming together in my time of need. To this day I don’t know who found me in the park where I collapsed. That pony is a hero, whoever she or he is. I’d have died on a trail in the woods if not for my mysterious benefactor. I would’ve died in the hospital if not for Dr. Gentle Touch. I would’ve spent years in the hospital if not for my hometown hero, Dolly Hearton. She heard of my plight and bought an iron lung and donated it to my family so I could go home. I was still stuck, but at least I was in my own space. Mom quit her job to take care of me. And in those darkest hours I reinvented myself. I found a new passion, and that’s where the Catch-A-Wish Foundation comes in.” I twirled around on the stage, showing off my dress. “I made the dress I’m wearing tonight. I became interested in fashion as a way to pass the boring days when there wasn’t much else I could do. I don’t know how far I’d have been able to go with it. I’d started sketching out some designs, but I didn’t know the first thing about making dresses, and Mom wasn’t much help. As amazing as she is, Mom’s no seamstress. That was when Rarity showed up unexpectedly. Yes, that Rarity. Element of Generosity and one of Equestria’s hottest designers. I thought I was dreaming, but she came in and donated her time to teach a novice fashionista the ropes. Thanks to her, fashion became my passion. In my dreams, I still gallop around the track faster than anypony else. But my reality is fashion.” I motioned to the side of the stage, and Rarity joined me. “But Rarity’s involvement in my life didn’t end there. A pony as busy as Rarity has stayed in touch with me over the years, helping me when I needed it. How many fillies can say they have a Rarity-designed dress in their closet? I had nearly a dozen. Though I had few places to wear them, that didn’t matter. In those days when I was struggling to learn how to walk all over again, those dresses were my motivation. I’d put one on and walk to my bedroom door, which conveniently had a mirror on the back. I’d twirl around and stare at my reflection and strut right back to my closet like a model.” I wrapped my hooves around Rarity. “Thank you. Thank you, Rarity. And thank you to Catch-A-Wish for bringing this special pony into my life. This is why your donations are so important. An iron lung saved my life, but Catch-A-Wish made it worth living. Thank you for your donations.” I nuzzled Rarity, then walked across the stage to nuzzle the charity’s founders, Star Catcher and Skywishes. Gaitlinburg: four years, three months, and six days ago Rarity was many things: the Element of Generosity, a leading fashionista, and an incredibly shrewd businessmare. From her visits to Gaitlinburg to see me, she’d realized she needed a presence in a town that had this much wedding tourism. Some of that was my influence, and some of that was her own observations. That she’d opened a Carousel Boutique location in my hometown wasn’t a surprise. She’d been grooming me to take a place in her business empire, little by little. The next step was an apprenticeship, and the location conveniently opened just when Rarity determined I was ready. The location was run by Sew-and-So, an orange earth pony with gorgeous pink and purple hair. The fashion field was dominated by unicorns, who had a natural advantage with telekinesis. Earth ponies and pegasi weren’t necessarily uncommon in the profession, but they were limited to hoof-stitch or machine-stitch, and couldn’t do intricate details with magic-stitch like unicorns could. Many ponies dismissed their talents as a result, so when an earth pony or pegasus made it to the top of the profession, it was especially impressive. Gaitlinburg Boutique was the chain’s seventh location, behind the original location in Ponyville, Manehattan, Canterlot, Hope Hollow, Las Pegasus, and Fillydelphia. I wasn’t Rarity’s first protégé, that honor went to a colt by the name of Pistachio, who was apprenticing with Coco Pommel at the Manehattan location. I was also positive I wouldn’t be the last – Rarity had a reputation for generosity that was well-earned. She had a keen eye for talent, and a genuine desire to help ponies reach their dreams. But she wasn’t stupid – her generosity had been taken advantage of more than once. The terms of my apprenticeship were generous… to a point. Rarity’s fashions took center stage – which was fair since she was the owner. Sew-and-So could display her own designs in secondary display areas. My own designs would be in the back, near the discount rack. For a designer of my experience, that was an incredible opportunity. If I wanted to remain with Rarity’s Boutique, I’d graduate to my own store in three years at the conclusion of my tutoring. Possibly the Gaitlinburg location, but that would entirely depend on if Sew-and-So was willing to relocate or not. She had seniority, and hence first choice. If not, then I’d be at the mercy of wherever Rarity was expanding three years hence. If I chose not to remain with Rarity’s, there was a two-year non-compete clause attached. That was the catch in a contract that would be too good to be true otherwise. I’d come out of my apprenticeship with the knowledge needed to succeed, but couldn’t immediately put it to use. It was a fair contract and I had no problems signing it, but I wanted to make my own mark in the world of fashion. I wouldn’t be satisfied with just having my own store, I wanted ponies to brag that they were wearing a Rainbow Flash original. My competitive spirit hadn’t died when I stopped running; it’d just turned to a different outlet. But in order to be the best, I needed to be out from under Rarity’s shadow. At the same time, I owed her everything. It wasn’t like when I was running and I wanted the competition to eat my dust – I wanted to coexist with her. She was my mentor, my benefactor. She’d done so much for me; I’d never forget who’d given me a chance. Could I be happy being a store manager? I had a lot to think about. Thankfully I had plenty of time. Gaitlinburg: three years, six months, and twenty-five days ago The candle flickered in my room as Sweetie Blue and I cuddled in my bed. We’d fallen into a relationship with one another. Neither of us had planned on it, neither of us had even realized we had feelings for one another until the day she was massaging my bad leg. We’d shared the bed together many times over the years, but that was the day she asked if she could snuggle with me. She admitted she felt scared that one day she’d wake up and I wouldn’t, and that she’d feel better if she could feel me breathing. How could I refuse that? Sweetie was snoring softly, her foreleg draped around my barrel. There was a time this probably would’ve killed me – a day when I was so weak a machine had to breathe for me. I was stronger than I had been back then. Now it was a comfort. She was a morning pony, necessitated by her apprenticeship as a baker. My internal clock got out of whack when I was stuck in the iron lung, and I’d long since learned that inspiration didn’t keep normal business hours either. I turned the pages in my fashion magazine, doing my best not to wake my marefriend. The latest issue had jumped on the bandwagon, and had dedicated the entire issue to the newly-announced Earth. There were articles dedicated to human fashion history, current styles, and of course, some enterprising humans had even penned some articles for the issue as well, likely hoping to create demand in Equestria for their work. I repressed a whinny as I thought a pony should go over there and design clothes for them. It was a silly thought, but one that wouldn’t leave my head as I continued reading. As soon as I read that almost all humans spend the vast majority of their time clothed, the gears in my head started turning. I could do this. I levitated some paper and a quill and sketched a few humans. Much like my early attempts at drawing ponies, they were weirdly-proportioned. I gave up and returned my paper and quill to the desk. I snuffed the flame on the candle with my magic, then closed my eyes. There’d be plenty of time for practice. Manehattan: sixteen days ago Rarity had left the Ponyville location to former students of hers, Sandbar and Yona. She divided much of her time between the Canterlot and Manhattan locations, and most of the rest of it was spent in Maris, Prance, the center of the fashion world. All the while keeping an eye out for new towns to expand into. Her chain had grown to more than twenty locations, and if I wanted to stay with the company, I’d get the next one: Trottingham. That’s what I’d come to talk to her about. I walked into the shop and Coco Pommel greeted me. It’d been months since we’d last seen one another, and we nuzzled. Six and a half months ago to be exact, for the grand opening of Chicoltgo Boutique, run by Coco’s former apprentice, Pistachio. Rarity was expecting me and I took a seat in her office while I waited for her to finish what she was working on. I gazed around the room as she worked. Her Canterlot office was her ‘home’ office, but she spent nearly as much time in Manehattan. Half-finished sketches lined easels around the room, while three of the walls were adorned with pictures of celebrities wearing her dresses, including Princess Twilight Sparkle. The wall directly behind her desk was a map of the world, with pins in every city that had a location of her chain. Other cities had circles around them, including Trottingham, and that likely meant she was evaluating them for potential locations. As cluttered as the office was, her desk was the opposite. It was empty except for a photo of herself and her sister, Sweetie Belle, and whatever document she was currently in the process of reading. Rarity finally looked up. “Salutations, Rainbow Flash. I apologize for my rudeness, but I was in the middle of reading this document and legalese is rather tricky to negotiate effectively when distracted.” She looked at me and I could see the sadness in her eyes. “You’re here to turn down the Trottingham branch.” I nodded. “Not really a surprise. I’m sorry, Sew-and-So is rather fond of the Gaitlinburg location, and I can’t force her to leave. I suppose I could, but it wouldn’t be right.” “I’m not sure I would’ve stayed on even if she’d taken the relocation offer. You know how ambitious I am.” I hadn’t hidden anything from her. We were in frequent correspondence, and she knew where my dreams were taking me. “Indeed. I can’t fault you for wanting to make your own mark on the world. You have more to prove than most ponies. You’ve been open and honest with me, and I appreciate that.” She sighed. “However, you can’t fault me for wanting to keep you in the fold, as it were. You are quite a talent, after all. Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?” I shook my head. “Then I wish you luck, Rainbow Flash.” “Thank you. I hope we can continue being friends?” “Of course. As your friend, let me say that there will always be a home waiting for you at Carousel Boutique should you ever desire it. As your peer, let me warn you just what you’re getting into.” She gestured to the easel behind me, which was filled with unfinished designs for a fall line. Upon scrutiny the trends depicted appeared to be several years out of date. “This was supposed to be my fall line… three years ago. I may find time to finish it when it comes back into style, fifteen or twenty years hence. As you know, I started in Ponyville. I apprenticed under Ribbon Heart, and took over the boutique when she retired. Unfortunately, Ponyville was a small town back then, a backwoods joke to the sophisticated ponies of Canterlot and Manehattan. Being a small town, Ponyville didn’t have much demand for a dress shop. Weddings, proms, school dances… these were the things that kept me afloat in the early years. Eventually I quite literally bumped into Fancy Pants in Canterlot. Thanks to my connections with Princess Celestia, he took a fancy in me and eventually invested in my business. If not for him, I’d have never been able to expand as quickly, or possibly at all.” She swept her hooves around the room. “These days I spend more time running the business than I do designing. It’s why I rely so much on ponies like Sew-and-So, Coco Pommel, and Sassy Saddles. It’s why I’ve invested in promising young designers like Pistachio and yourself. This is a cutthroat industry. I try to take on as many up-and-comers as I can because there are less scrupulous ponies out there all too willing to take advantage of the talented and naïve. Coco could tell you about her time working for Suri Polomare. I saw firsthoof that it was unpleasant for her. Not only was Suri verbally abusive toward Coco, she also stole my designs. This is what awaits you… in two years. Have you considered your plans for the next few years?” I replied in English. “Yes, I’ve put some thought into this.” She responded in perfect English. “I commend you for thinking outside the box. It’s a risk, but without risk there can be no reward. While I won’t hold you to your non-compete clause on Earth, I will warn you that I’m also looking to expand into that market eventually. However, technically, I’m not currently doing business there and you wouldn’t be competing with me. Please keep in touch. When the time comes, perhaps you’ll be selling my designs in your shops. I think I would quite like to see that.” “You’d let me sell your designs?” “Of course, darling. If you invest in building a network on Earth, it would be foolish of me to do the exact same thing. Instead, we could partner by selling each other’s designs through our own distribution networks. I sincerely hope I haven’t seen the last of your work in my shops.” “Makes two of us.” I smiled. She smiled back. “Very well then. I look forward to seeing the rise of your fashion empire, Miss Flash. Good luck, and should the worst happen, remember there will always be a place for you at Rarity’s Boutique.” Ponyville: Today I blinked away the last remnants of sleep as a bright ray of sunshine played across my face. There was something comforting about waking in the embrace of an earth pony, especially in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar town. I’m going to miss this. I’m going to miss her. There was still time to change my mind, but I had a goal. My childhood dream had been crushed by circumstances out of my control, and I refused to give up on this one too. “You finally awake, sleepyhead?” Sweetie nuzzled me. “Five more minutes. It’s going to be a long time before we see one another again. I want to enjoy this as long as possible.” She kissed my cheek and rested her head on my shoulder as we both watched the clock ticking down on our time together. I’d committed to being gone from Equestria for five years, but Sweetie promised she’d come visit as soon as they opened the portal to tourism. Or she’d join me on Earth if I struck it big in the fashion industry. I had the same deal with her – if she became a successful baker, I’d return the stipend and move back to Equestria. We’d set a lofty financial goal, and if either of us reached it, the other would move. We both knew I had the higher chance of success… and the bigger risk of failure. I sighed as I slipped out from under Sweetie’s leg and levitated the blanket off of us. It was now or never. Such was the price of chasing our dreams. I nuzzled her, then we left our hotel, grabbed some muffins from Sugarcube Corner, and trotted to the portal. There were lots of tearful goodbyes happening all around us – parents bidding adieu to their daughters, coltfriends kissing their fillyfriends goodbye, etc. Our own public display of affection was lost in the crowd. All too soon it was time for me to go for real. Around me I could hear snippets of conversations. Ponies saying goodbye, ponies talking about their plans, ponies gossiping. It was a bit like walking through a train station. Nopony paid me much mind, which was fine by me. While I was planning on making a big splash someday soon, this was neither the time nor place. Only one pony left in line ahead of me. I could vaguely make out Sweetie Blue in the distance. It was hard seeing her through the tears in my eyes. Then I was next, and it was over so quickly. One second I was on Equus, the next I was on Earth. I wasn't sure what I’d been expecting, but I was a bit disappointed by the lack of theatrics. It was as simple as walking from one room to another, although I felt a bit disoriented by the process. A Royal Guard helped me along, clearing room for the next pony to step through and fill the spot I’d just been standing in. As my head stopped spinning, I started examining my surroundings. The forest was similar to the one I’d just left behind, albeit far less spooky. That said, it was the humans I was most fascinated by. I resisted the urge to stare at them. They weren’t gawking at us, so I extended them the same courtesy. I got on the bus, as directed, and sat in the first available window seat. I’d immediately noticed the tinted windows on the bus, so I had no qualms openly staring out the window once I was safely on the vehicle. Pictures may be worth a thousand words, but they can’t convey how someone moves. Bipeds moved quite differently from quadrupeds. I watched with fascination until the bus started moving. Once we were in transit, there was nothing to see but trees until we made it to the highway, and from then on, I only caught glimpses of humans in their vehicles. Once we got off the freeway, there were pedestrians, and I watched them as best I could from the moving bus. Movement was important – clothing was meant to be worn. My designs would be useless if they impeded movement in any way, which is why I did my best to pay attention. I was so busy paying attention to the people going about their daily routines that I didn’t even notice we’d arrived at the consulate until the bus stopped and ponies started disembarking. Once inside I was in no particular hurry, so I stood by a window watching people outside. I was broken from my reverie by one of the Royal Guards tapping me on the withers. “You’re next, miss.” The waiting room had thinned out significantly in the time I’d been staring out the window at Manhattan. I followed the guard to the duchess’ office. She had a beautiful white coat, very unusual for a thestral. I envisioned an outfit for her, and pulled a piece of paper and a pencil from my saddlebags as I sat across from Ploomette. I sketched the design as she asked me questions, which I answered somewhat absentmindedly. I finally set the pencil down, finished. It was a very rough sketch, but the basic idea was there in front of me. I looked up at the duchess. There was a bright red clown’s nose at the end of her snout. I blinked, and it was still there when I reopened my eyes. Was she wearing that when I got here? I berated myself. I’m so good with spotting little details, how could I miss something so blatantly obvious? “Can I interest you in a snack while we chat, Miss Flash?” The duchess didn’t mention the clown nose, so I didn’t either. Maybe this is a normal thing? It makes sense, we’re all guests in a foreign land, and it would be rude to point out something we think is strange. She’s probably testing me. Thankfully, I was used to ignoring things like that. I’d spent a lot of time around other foals with disabilities in the hospital or at the charity, and I didn’t like it when ponies stared at me, either. Especially when I’d been stuck in the iron lung. “No thank you, duchess. I had some while I was waiting.” “No comments on my nose?” “It’s nice? I guess?” She laughed. “I put it on because you were so distracted earlier. I have to admit, I’m a little surprised you didn’t point it out.” “I spent years of my life in an iron lung. I’ve been around a number of ponies with issues they were born with… or had thrust upon them due to illness or unfortunate circumstances. I’ve been making dresses for fillies on behalf of the Catch-A-Wish Foundation for years. I have to design clothing to accommodate those disabilities. I know from personal experience that nopony wants to be reminded of their problems, so I pretend not to see anything.” “The Catch-A-Wish Foundation?” “Oh yes. It was through their efforts I met my hero, Rarity. I decided to give back once I was back on my hooves and able to. It’s a great charity.” Ploomette gasped. “I’m quite familiar with it. My sister founded it and I’ve personally raised several million bits for their benefit.” Ploomette got out from behind her desk and hugged me. “You look good. Is everything… all right?” I nodded. “It was a long road to recovery and I’ll never achieve my foalhood dream of winning a gold medal in the Equestria Games. I was an exceptionally fast runner as a filly. Then… well, polio. It took years of rehab, but most ponies can’t even tell I was in an iron lung for years.” It’s obvious to me though. I can’t run as fast as I could when I was younger, and I’ve still got a slight limp in my right hind leg, a side effect of being bedridden for years while I was still growing. “What brings you to Earth? Are you perhaps looking for treatment? Humans have nearly wiped out the disease, though there are a few corners of the world where it still claims lives every year.” I shook my head. “I’m as recovered as I can be from it. I haven’t used my iron lung in years.” I flipped my sketch around so she could see it. I’d done a passable job of drawing the guard’s wings, so hopefully Ploomette would be able to recognize her since she was the only thestral I’d seen on Earth so far. Ploomette looked over the drawing. “Searchlight. Come here.” The guard saluted and approached. She looked over the sketch and immediately recognized herself. She gasped and asked, “You drew this since we got in here?” “Inspiration hit and I had to capture it before it was gone. I’m sorry for ignoring you, Duchess.” She’s probably not used to that. “I came here seeking to make a name for myself in the fashion industry. Humans tend to wear far more clothing than ponies do.” Ploomette nodded. “I see. You also realize that with nudity being a taboo in most human cultures, there are already plenty of options out there for those wishing to cover up.” I nodded. “More competition, but also more opportunity.” “I would never discourage a pony from trying for her dreams. But you’re starting from nothing in a cutthroat industry. Have you ever worked with humans before? Have you ever made clothing that would fit a bipedal creature?” I shook my head. “Then I have a suggestion – one from which you can continue your pursuit to take Earth’s fashion world by storm, while having the opportunity to build up your experience first.” She pushed a button on her intercom and one of the doors to her office opened. In strode a unicorn mare with a snowflake cutie mark. “This is Snowcatcher. She has a proposition for you.” “My thought is to pool our resources and open an Equestrian style hotel. You know the type – we live there and cater to the whims of our guests.” “I don’t know anything about hotels. I’ve never even stayed at one before.” I sighed. “It’s hard to travel when you rely on an iron lung to keep you alive. I’m not saying ‘no’, I’m just saying I’m grossly unqualified.” “In the interest of full disclosure, so are the rest of us.” Snowcatcher ran a hoof through her hair. “As far as we were able to determine, Earth doesn’t have anything like it, so it’s technically an untapped market. But it’s also a risk, because we don’t know if humans will accept it. There are deep differences between our cultures. But if enough of us go in on it together, we’ll make it work. If we can’t, we all have our own unique talents, and we can bounce back from any potential setbacks.” “In a worst case scenario, Equestria isn’t going to abandon its citizens. If your venture fails, you can come to me for help. That’s why I’m here. I could certainly assist in finding new employment and lodging, even if the latter is here at the consulate, temporarily.” Ploomette pointed to a poster on the wall, indicating that there was no problem too big, nor too small, to talk to her about. “If we get enough investors, we can buy our property outright. Then at least we have a guaranteed roof over our heads even if our business fails.” I countered Snowcatcher's argument, “Maybe we’d just be better off investing in a house together and finding jobs individually?” Snowcatcher tapped a hoof against her chin. “That’s… plausible.” “A number of other ponies have indicated they plan on sharing expenses that way. The difference is they all knew each other previously, and came here together. Like the consulate – everypony working here is somepony I either knew, or came highly recommended by friends or family. A lot of the ponies here are family members of mine. Cousins, mostly. It keeps us out of the way.” “Duchess?” Ploomette smiled at me. “I call it like I see it, Rainbow. My older sister is in line for the duchy. I’m the expendable heir, unless something happens to Star Catcher. Earth is a great opportunity – this is giving each of us something to call our own. I bring this up because the hotel is something you can call your own. Cohabitating wouldn’t give you that aspect. You’d just be roommates. Then somepony will find a job first, and they’ll feel like they’re picking up the slack while everyone else is just lazing away doing nothing.” I cringed. I could see that happening, all right. “Besides. I think you might want to look at this first, before dismissing the idea.” She slid over a piece of paper and I levitated it off the desk. “These are the ponies you’d be going in on this with.” Snowcatcher, I’d obviously just met, Dewdrop Dazzle, Flitterheart, Sunny Rays, Daisy Dreams… Okay, I know those last two. She must’ve seen my eyes light up at seeing a model on the list of investors, because she immediately dashed my thoughts. “Daisy Dreams has retired to focus on her education.” “Why bring her up?” “Potential conflicts of interest. I need to know if you can live under the same roof with a former model without bugging her constantly.” I nodded. “If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I can respect that.” “Excellent. In that case, are you interested?” That’s the 10,000 bit question. What have I got to lose? The stipend isn’t enough start-up capital to make a go of it on my own. I nodded. “I think I’d like that.”