//------------------------------// // Wandering Child // Story: A New Fairy Tale // by Marina Stars //------------------------------// Any pony could tell you their favorite way to wake up, be it to the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen, the sound of birdsong as sunlight warms and lights your room, nestled in a cozy blanket till the later hours of the morning, or in the arms of a lover. All you need to do is ask, and surely you’ll receive an answer with a fond smile. No pony, however, would tell you that the best way to wake up in the morning is to be doused by a wave of cold, muddy, street water.  Unfortunately, that was exactly how Rarity woke up in the early hours of the morning when the sky had scarcely been touched by the rising sun: soaked and sore from a night’s rest on the unyielding firmness of a concrete sidewalk. She sat up with a jolt, crying out in surprise. “What the hay!?” She sputtered, scrambling to her hooves and seeking out the cause of her rude awakening.  She saw, speeding down the road and turning a corner, a bright yellow Taxi carriage pulled by a careless driver. Alas, they were too far gone for any complaint to be shared, nor a recommendation they slow down and avoid puddles.  That left the sore and soaked mare to assess the damage. Her white coat was not so white anymore, matting up from the dirt, street water, and overall condition of her sleeping arrangement. Who falls asleep on a sidewalk anyways? She couldn't have found a bench to sleep on? Or… you know, a bed? What had she even been up to last night? Last night… was gone. Not even the barest traces of memories existed. And before that? A whole lot of nothing.  That couldn't be right. The mare took a moment to concentrate, to really focus her mind and search for something. Nothing solid came to mind. Nothing but a name:  Rarity Belle.  “There must be more,” She wondered aloud, walking to the nearest window or reflective surface to attempt to sort herself out. It wasn't too hard. The city was quite… shiny… if not marred by the dirty, crowded roads.  Her mane might have been up in a fancy updo... once upon a time. But it was hard to tell, what with how it more closely resembled a hastily built bird’s nest today. But, the strands of deep purple hair seemed well taken care of if not for the one night of neglect. Makeup highlighted her natural features and, thankfully, held up better than her. Now the dress she wore… that was something else. Though a bit torn at the hem and rumpled from sleeping in it, the gown was exquisite. The bodice was made with a soft white fabric that flowed over the shoulders and into elegant sleeves. The skirt had been composed of layers of purple tulle and shimmering silk and to separate the two pieces, a golden sash had been tied around her waist. The top and the skirt were decorated with hoof stitched embroidery and carefully placed beads. ‘Twas a gown fit for a ball. And the jewelry that she wore matched tastefully to the gold on the gown.  From deep in the back of her mind came the inkling that she had made this. Though she didn't know when, or how, or with what, she felt this must have been her work. The discovery was comforting. At last she could remember something, even if the barest detail. Progress was progress, afterall. She imagined with her mane done up right and a fresh face of makeup the look would have been stunning. Alas, such was not her luck and it was with some hesitation she removed any pins and ornaments from her mane, smoothing it out with her magic. She paid careful attention to how it had been done should she ever wish to recreate something like it-though there wasn't much to go off of. When she finished, her mane fell down past her shoulders in soft and messy waves.  'Not an entirely bad look, if I do say so myself.' She thought with a tiny smile. Rarity paused and looked into her own blue eyes, searching for any knowledge they could give.  “My name is Rarity Belle. I am a seamstress…” Her brow furrowed and she leaned closer to herself. What secrets lay in her eyes? “I think.”  “I live… I live here? Possibly?” Come to think of it, where was ‘here’?  A city, yes.  A big, bustling city. One lit with lights on every corner and building. Even in the early morning there was plenty of light despite the grey sky above. She wondered if the city ever went dark? The sight was overwhelming. She dare say intimidating. For a mare with no memory, no clear path or direction, confined within towering walls of glass and brick, intimidating was the only way to describe it. How would she ever find her way in such a strange and busy place?  Unease and doubt sunk into her chasing away any hope she might have had. "No, no, Rarity, darling," she reprimanded herself trying to chase away the doubt, "We can figure this out. We're nothing if not resourceful. Simply put one hoof in front of the other…" So she did, then forced herself to take another step even as everything moved so quickly around her... She didn't know how long or how far she walked as she tried to make sense of the world around her, but it must have been hours. She could scarcely remember where she started. As if she wasn't already lost before, she was certainly lost now. If she thought the morning was busy, there was no way to describe the late morning, or the afternoon hours of the day but dizzying. Hectic. Chaotic.  The word made her shiver. Hope was slipping faster now than ever as she quickly learned she was nothing in the crowd. Everypony had somewhere to be, something to do, even when they didn't. No pony wanted to help her. No pony wanted a thing to doo with her, or anypony else for that matter. Many pushed her away, refusing to answer even the smallest question.  Why? Why in a crowd of thousands was no one willing to show any goodness? Why did she, on a busy street corner, feel so helplessly alone? This city was suffocating. The inhabitants were far from kind. And she was afraid. Eventually she stumbled on what she would call a miracle. A park somewhere in the city. The small open patch of green was relieving to say the least. The ever looming walls parted just for that peaceful plot of land.  It was the sort of place she could just breathe.  So, she rushed to it, nearly tripping over her skirts though she couldn't bring herself to care. She fought back frustrated tears from the awful morning, hoping this could be a place to make sense of things.  As her gallop slowed, she fought to calm her breaths. She wouldn't lose herself in this madness. She had to keep control, despite feeling herself cracking.  As she stepped off the paved sidewalks, she moved to sit at a nearby park bench, huffing as she moved her poofy skirts out of the way.  Better. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a sweet looking elderly stallion passing, a small grin gracing his muzzle. Oh, if anypony would help her, he seemed like a good candidate. If he could slow down to enjoy a walk, he could surely answer a question or two. "Oh, excuse me sir," she called beckoning him over, "I'm sorry to trouble you, but I've had such a rough morning and there hasn't been a single pony to show me any kindness at all. If I could just get a smile and a little bit of help, I would mean the world to me." His grin grew brighter with each word, till it became the smile Rarity needed, putting her at ease. "Oh, you do have a lovely smile, now-" Before she could get any further the stallion grabbed the necklaces hanging around her neck and yanked them off, shocking her as he galloped away. She blinked. "What!?” She all but screeched, standing from the bench, “Stop! Come back! Those are mine!" She tried to give chase but he was too far ahead. Heavens, he was faster than he looked. Meanwhile Rarity was in a ballgown, leaving her out of luck.  "You!" She growled indignantly, her face turning red, "You are not a very nice old stallion!" She huffed after him, her back hoof stomping the grass.  He paid no mind, instead dancing away with his loot.  That was it. That was when she broke and hot, angry tears pooled in her eyes as the hopelessness of this place really set in. She felt so stupid for hoping and trusting. She felt shame for how lost she was. Anger at the fate she’d been given. One word repeated itself as she felt herself colapsing from the inside out: why? Why!? A clap of thunder sounded overhead making her jump. Before she even had time to react, the skies opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour upon her. "Are. You. Kidding me!?" She screeched. Several sets of eyes turned towards her, it was the first time any pony had spared her a second glance, all because she was crumbling. "I hate this city! I hate this day! I thought it couldn't get worse, but no!" She stomped in a newly formed puddle and caught her reflection as it cleared. "I'm lost," her voice broke, as she once again looked into her eyes, red and puffy from emotion. What a sad sight she was.  "I'm alone." Her tears mingled with the rain. She whispered desperately, "I just want to go home… wherever that is..." Rarity sat in the grass, no longer caring about her dress, nor her mane and coat. Forget appearances, no pony cared for them anyways. She'd given up.  It wasn't long before she began to shiver in the downpour, despite wrapping her hooves around herself. This was misery. This was rock bottom. It had to be. She could not think of a lower destination than this. How had she ended up here? Why had she done this to herself? Why this cold, heartless, miserable, city? Were had her memory gone? There was an overwhelming amount of unanswerable questions, enough to make her wish to disappear. She hated this feeling.  Through her wallowing and depressive state she barely registered the approaching hoofsteps behind her. She scarcely felt the gentle hoof that came to rest on her shoulder.  It was the softly spoken words that followed it which finally gained her attention, "You look like you could use some help." Her heart stilled and she turned, scrubbing the tears from her eyes. A petite cream-colored mare with a soft turquoise mane stood before her. In one hoof she held the umbrella while the other rested comfortingly on her back. The mare's eyes were humble but shone with compassion. For a moment she could have sworn she knew those deep teal eyes… but when she blinked again they were a light turquoise. "Yes," she choked, moved by such smple words, "I really, truly could. Thank you," The mare pulled her up off the ground, not caring about how muddy her hooves were. "I'm Coco, by the way. Coco Pommel." Her voice was soft like springtime, putting the unicorn mare at ease.  "It's a pleasure, Coco. I'm Rarity." They shook hooves as a friendly greeting, and Coco noticed just how much Rarity was shivering. "Would you like to get some hot cocoa Rarity? My treat." The unicorn blinked. The mare had known her all of two seconds and... she was offering hot cocoa? What had inspired the simple act of goodness.  "That's very generous of you. I'd hate to impose." "Not at all. You look like you could use it anyways." Rarity dipped her head humbly, "You have no idea what this means to me. Thank you so very much."  With a bright smile Coco brought Rarity under the umbrella. As they walked and talked, it seemed there was some hope for tomorrow. If one good pony existed, perhaps there were more? This was just the act of kindness she needed today.  After a relaxing drink and a friendly conversation, Rarity discovered a kinship with the mare. She found herself discussing the life of a seamstress with details she hadn't realised she’d know till then. She found it easy to speak with the soft-spoken mare. She was so grateful for this one true light in Manehattan. Coco was surprisingly perceptive, insightful even, and Rarity found herself confessing her dilema. Coco, who’d listen compassionately through the whole tale had dragged Rarity back into the rain and to a towering apartment building as soon as their hot chocolate was done. Now, she pushed her way past an old door, flipping on the lights as Rarity followed after. “Welcome to my humble abode,” She sheepishly gestured to the cramped space. A well-loved couch leaned against one wall, a sewing machine and various fabrics occupied her dining table, patterns and books filled several bookshelves in the room. “It’s not much, but it’s mine.” It was homey, if not old and run down. But at least it was a comfortable, well lit and welcoming space.  “I have some spare clothes if you’d like to change.” Coco said, rummaging through some drawers, “A few outfits I wanted to debut but Suri ultimately scrapped.” “Suri?” “Suri Polomare,” Coco sighed, “My boss. Not the nicest pony you’ll meet, but she knows how to work this city. I can’t make it in the fashion industry without a personality like her at my side.” she chuckled nervously, “This city is tough, as you know. Suri knows how to be tougher,” At last she pulled out some simple, loose-fitting clothes, “Well, anyways, these should work for the night. You’re welcome to stay and I can help you find your way around Manehattan tomorrow,” Rarity gratefully accepted the clothes. “Bathroom’s on the left,” Coco motioned to a door, “Go ahead and change,” “Thank you,” She didn't know how many times she’d said it, but she was determined to keep saying it. Coco deserved to be given her gratitude. She was nearly in the bathroom when she stopped, and turned to look back at the other mare.  “Why are you so kind to me?” Surprised, Coco looked at her, tilting her head in confusion, “What do you mean?” “I don't wish to sound ungrateful, I truly am thankful for your help, but you don't know me, we’ve never met. Why are you so kind?” Coco considered the question and offered a humble shrug, “This world is not kind to those who feel lost. Manehattan will tear you apart at every insecurity. Truth is, I’ve been where you are-without the memory loss-and it’s not a fun place to be. I just had a feeling I needed to help you. Perhaps one day you could do the same for somepony else.” Rarity was touched by Coco’s words and found herself remembering beautiful words spoken by a distant voice. “One good deed always inspires another,” “Always,”  Dressed in night clothes and armed with a comfy blanket and pillow, Rarity prepared herself to bed down for the night as Coco finished up her evening’s work.  Rarity had watched in curiosity as the other mare worked with practiced hooves. A thought kept poking into her mind as she thought back to her own talent with a needle and thread, one she couldn't help but discuss. “Coco? What’s it like working for Suri, and making clothes?” The mare tucked away her current project, safely for the night. “It’s hard work, that’s for sure. But looking at all the things I’ve created is reward enough to keep me going. I hope that if I work hard enough I can make a name for myself here.” “A dreamer?” Rarity chuckled wistfully wondering if she too was a dreamer.  “Absolutely.” Coco moved to her bedroom door, pausing as she rested her hoof on the knob, “If you want I could introduce you. You’ve got the skill, it could be enough for you to provide for yourself till you find your path.” “That's… not a bad idea, actually,” Rarity smiled softly, “I wouldn't mind working alongside you,” “Me neither.” Coco laughed, “We’ll talk in the morning, okay. For tonight, get some rest.” Rarity nodded, slipping underneath the blanket, sighing appreciatively at the softness of the couch. It was worlds better than the concrete shed woken up on. Her muscles were already thanking her. After a long day, sleep came easily to her. Her eyes fluttered shut and, as she gave into exhaustion she found herself at peace. It had been far from a good day… really far from it.  But there was hope for tomorrow to be better.  She only hoped one day she could repay Coco Pommel for even the smallest generosity she’d shared.