“This reminds me of Manehattan,” Rarity said.
“What?” Diana yelled.
“I said, this reminds me of Manehattan!” Rarity shouted over the crowd. Ponies pressed at them from all sides, half of them offering pamphlets and trinkets and the other half begging for bits. All of them wanted attention and snapped at each other like piranhas trying to get any scrap they could.
“Help!” Diana squeaked, sounding unlike herself. “Rarity!”
“Oh, get away from her!” Rarity yelled, pushing at the crowd. “Stop-- no, she doesn’t want to buy a knock-off pocketwatch! Get back, I say!”
Rarity ushered Diana away, trying to escape the press of ponies. She pushed through a doorway, leaving them behind. The noise of the herd was cut off the moment the portal closed, leaving them in sudden silence.
“Are you alright?” Rarity asked.
“I will be,” Diana said, starting to calm down. “I hate being crowded like that. So many ponies and voices and dragging my attention in every direction.”
“Take your time,” Rarity said quietly.
“I get claustrophobic and panic,” Diana said. “I apologize. It’s shameful.”
“Nopony is perfect, darling. Nor is it something to be ashamed of. They were terribly rude! Now, where are we?”
Rarity finally had a moment to look at where they’d ended up. The Realm itself wasn’t terribly strange - it was no more foreign than Seasaddle or Neigh Orleans. A hint of strange accent and possibly a new word to learn for a fizzy drink, but Rarity had acclimated to far stranger without a hitch. The room where they were standing was some elaborate entrance hall, full of murals obviously painted by foals, along with pillows and low tables.
A pony cleared his throat, not rudely, just enough to get Rarity’s attention. She looked over to see him sitting at one of the low tables.
“It’s a community center,” he said, standing up. “We watch foals for parents and provide other services. Meals to those in need, a place to sleep for ponies without a roof over their heads.”
Rarity smiled. “I apologize. We’re not ponies in need, we’re just passing through.”
“Nonsense,” the stallion said. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re welcome to be here, even if all you need is a few moments out of the sun and a place to sit.” He motioned to the pillows around the room. “It’s a bit dead today, I apologize.”
“Quiet is perfect right now,” Diana sighed. She found a large cushion and settled down on it in a loaf, wrapping herself in her cloak and obviously trying to block out the world for a few moments.
“Would you like some tea?” the stallion asked.
“That sounds lovely,” Rarity said. “Let me help you with it.” She waved to Diana, but the tall pony didn’t respond. She clearly wanted some solitude and distance. Rarity followed the stallion into a small break room where a kettle was waiting.
“Usually we have more ponies here to help,” the stallion sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a tough week after what happened with our leader.”
“Your leader?” Rarity asked. It had clearly been an invitation to ask.
“Ah, so you hadn’t heard,” the stallion nodded to himself. “I thought you might actually be here because of her. It’s terrible, really. She was one of the best leaders we’d ever had and she had to go and…” He sniffled and shook his head.
“She died,” Rarity surmised.
“Died?” the stallion blinked in surprise. “No, of course not. That would be awful! She became an alicorn. A terrible shame.”
“She… what?!” Rarity squeaked.
“Yes, I know. Our own leader became one of them! After spending years teaching us how we only needed to rely on each other, she had to go and have that happen to her! We were all terribly embarrassed. I’m sure most of the staff will come back, but it’s disheartening. How can anypony take us seriously now?”
“I’m not sure I understand, darling.”
“None of us are sure about anything. I mean, we’re sure about one thing. Alicorns aren’t real, so she obviously decided to try some sort of scam on us.”
“...I’m quite sure they’re real, darling.”
The stallion smiled patiently. “I’m sure you think they are, but they’re not. One simply has to consider the facts. Alicorns are supposedly immortal, right?”
“Yes, they certainly are.”
“Aha! But if they were immortal we’d be swimming in them! Ones from tens of thousands of years ago would be hanging about. Even if there were only one every century or two you’d have a whole city full of them. Since we’re not outnumbered by them, we can be sure they’re not around.”
“I suppose that is one kind of logic,” Rarity admitted. “Unless the alicorns all left to go somewhere else.”
“What, hiding south of the border and waiting for the right moment to jump out?” The stallion chuckled.
“Or much further away,” Rarity suggested. “Where is your former leader?”
“Banished, of course,” the stallion said. “Can’t have a scammer like that around. I’ll have to clean out her office later to make room for the new head of the department. Terrible thing. I have a lot of fond memories but she had to end up trampling them.”
The kettle whistled. Rarity got an idea at the same moment.
“Perhaps there’s a way I can repay you for the cup of tea, darling.”
“You offered to clean?” Diana asked.
“It’s the office of a pony that became an alicorn,” Rarity said. “It wouldn’t hurt to look. Perhaps there are some clues to how it happened.”
“If the pony became an alicorn at all,” Diana noted. They walked into the small office. It was the kind of place that was common among organized ponies who weren’t quite as obsessive as Twilight Sparkle. Things were neat and fairly clean, aside from a few stacks of files that were either being worked on, referenced, or the pony who was responsible for them simply promised themselves they’d get around to dealing with them soon.
Diana stopped to look at one of the pictures hanging on the wall. It showed a few ponies standing in the wilderness on some kind of camping trip.
“There’s no reason to assume she didn’t,” Rarity said.
“Aside from the fact that everypony here seems to assume she was somehow running a scam,” Diana reminded Rarity. “It is more likely, you know.”
“Of course, but I have to believe we’re here for a reason. It’s not simple random chance that brought us to this office.” Rarity started shuffling papers. “Ah, look at this! It seems like our alicorn was keeping notes.”
She cleared her throat and started to read.
“Dann’s Day, 34th of Spring. Had the recurring dream again. I was standing in a field outside the city, like the camping trips we took last spring. The stars were impossibly bright. I could hear them singing and I could almost make out the words.”
“Should you be reading her diary?” Diana asked.
“If she detailed her ascension it could be vitally important to future generations!” Rarity held up the spiral-bound notebook, waggling it at Diana. “When Twilight Sparkle ascended, she didn’t have time to take notes because she was having several panic attacks at the same time, and I believe Princess Celestia actively discouraged her from saying much later. This could solve the mystery!”
“You think Princess Celestia would have censored her?”
“I think Twilight Sparkle is the kind of pony who would take a gentle suggestion as an absolute and unbreakable order if it came from the right pony,” Rarity clarified. She flipped ahead in the diary and read more. “Here, let me skip a bit, there should be something, ah!--”
“Frey’s Day, 42nd Spring. The stars were in my dream again. I think the doctor was right that I was seeing them just because I was thinking too much about my dreams before going to sleep, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy that I’d have a recurring dream. I’m going to make an effort tomorrow to curl up with a good book and think about something else.”
Diana leaned in to look. “Hmph. Why would a dream bother her so much she’d go to a doctor about it?”
“Not just go to a doctor, but write about it over and over again. She has some days marked on the calendar with stars,” Rarity moved papers to reveal a desk calendar with notes scribbled on it in shorthand.
“Satyr’s Day, 43rd Spring,” Diana read from the journal. “The stars were still in my room when I woke up. They sang to me. I think I am going mad.”
“That would be here,” Rarity noted on the calendar. “The marks stop a few days later. What are the last entries?”
She took the diary back, flipping towards the end.
“46th Sping, I can almost tell what the stars are asking me to do. They want me to follow them and they’re telling me a secret path. I believe this is the way to the heavens for everypony, a way that will lead to happiness and the truth beyond truths. It will finally fix things that have been broken and repair this world’s foundations. I will record what I find for all those to come after me so they can walk the same path!”
“Diana, this is it!” Rarity cried out. She turned the page.
“Nevermind, figured it out,” Rarity read. She frowned and turned the next page to find it blank.
“Figured it out?” Rarity repeated. “That’s all she wrote?!”
Diana snorted with laughter.
“It’s not funny! She could have written anything! Even if she didn’t need it anymore she could have told those to come who were having the same problem! What kind of inconsiderate pony would do this?!”
“Perhaps there’s a reason alicorns aren’t thought of kindly around here.”
“It’s just silly, darling. When I make a dress I take extensive notes and sketch plenty of designs! I want to be ready to manufacture them en masse if-- I mean, when I really come into my own. One has to plan for the future. An immortal should know that better than anypony else! They shouldn’t just write ‘nevermind, figured it out’!”
“We don’t know if she really was an alicorn,” Diana reminded Rarity. “She might have been insane, or doing some sort of scam. The ponies here seem to think it was the latter.”
“Well I hope wherever she is, she’s happy with herself,” Rarity huffs. “I swear. When I become an alicorn -- and I will! -- I will write a detailed guide for others, with… with pictures! And I’ll make it so simple that even Applejack would be able to figure it out if she cared to!”
“A very noble cause,” Diana agreed.
“Now, let’s finish cleaning,” Rarity sighed. “I did promise to help.”