//------------------------------//
// Artifacts 
// Story: Her Eyes Reflect The Stars 
// by Lynwood 
//------------------------------//

The Rarity sat on the floor and cradled the maneband with delicate hooves as if it might crumble into dust if she loved it too harshly. As far as I knew, it might. The thing had been in the village longer than I could say.

"Why does it look so old?" the Rarity asked in a quiet voice. She spoke without looking at me, her eyes still locked on the faded bit of cloth.

I cleared my throat. "It's because it is old," I said. "It's been in the village since I was born."  She didn't respond. "I, um... You should know that it's... been a while since you were last, um, awake."

"...what do you mean?" the Rarity whispered. "I just saw her..."

I tried to swallow the thing that was in my throat. "I don't know when that Fluttershy was here. It's been many years... generations, maybe. I'm sorry."

"No," the Rarity said. "No, that can't be right." 

I shuffled my oversized hooves. "I'm sorry," I repeated lamely.

She hugged the maneband to her chest. "No, you don't understand. I just saw her. I just saw all my friends! It can't have been more than a few hours ago!" The Rarity got to her hooves, still clutching the maneband, as her voice began to quicken. "Is there a post office nearby? Or-or perhaps a dragonflame brazier? I must send a letter to Canterlot at once."

"There is no Canterlot. Not anymore." I said.

"W-what?"

I sighed and held out the little black book. "I think you should look at this, Miss." 

The Rarity stared at me for a moment before sinking back down to the floor. She gently set the maneband down and took the book, opening it to the first page. I watched as her eyes darted back and forth and her face fell.

After a long, uncomfortable few minutes, she spoke. "What is this?" she said in a husky whisper. "Is this true?"

"It's a Journal. Your Journal, in fact, you and the rest of the Six, but you'll have to be more specific," I said. "I don't know what's in there."

Her chuckle was hollow and worn. "My apologies, dear," she said as she lit her horn. "I'm talking about this." She levitated the book around and showed me a blank page.

I set a hoof on the book and gently pushed it back to the Rarity. "You misunderstand. That Journal's enchanted. I can only read the first page."

"The first page?" The Rarity said. Her brow furrowed as she flipped to it. "But that's... just instructions for duplicating it."

"So ponies can help you and your friends fix all of this. With the way that you, um, are, you can't do it on your own. Not without the Journals. Not without help." 

Her head fell. "Then... all that about the isolation rule, those machines, those— those Ashen Children. It's true, then?" Her eyes began to water. "Even the limit?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm sorry."

The Rarity's horn flickered out and the Journal fell to the ground. She scooped the maneband back up and hugged it to her chest, and then she began to cry. 

Without really knowing what I was doing, I sat down next to her and pulled her into a tight hug. After a long while, she caught her breath with a sniffle and leaned back. looking up at me with shimmering eyes. 

"What do I do?"