//------------------------------//
// VI. Ablution 
// Story: The Flight of the Alicorn 
// by Ponydora Prancypants 
//------------------------------//


VI. Ablution


The cocoon of warm blankets encapsulating her, the darkened bedroom, and the muted piano music wafting in through the open door weren’t presenting a concerted argument for Rarity to get out of bed. Instead, it was the jarring tintinnabulation of the bells in the brass clock on the nightstand that finally convinced her to abandon her somnolent wish to sleep through the morning. The race was still on, she reminded herself, and there were only hours left before the start. She had to get up. With effort, she forced her heavy eyelids open and magically threw back the blankets.

When she had finally been able to collapse into bed, tragically no more than five hours ago, Rarity hadn’t had the wherewithal to observe her surroundings very closely. It had been dark, and she had been mentally and physically exhausted. Still lying in bed, now she had the opportunity to look around. Without moving a muscle, she cast her spell about in the darkness, searching for the knob she thought she had noticed by the door when she had first been shown to the room. She found it easily, and soon she heard the whoosh of gas as a dozen sconces lit the bedroom.

Rarity propped her back up against her overstuffed pillows and took in what the light revealed. The first thing she noticed was that she was no longer wearing her dress from the previous day, as it lay draped over a chair in the far corner by the door where she must have thrown it. Though her livelihood as a designer and clothier depended on high society’s proclivity toward wearing apparel, Rarity had to admit that it felt good to be free of it at the moment. She could stretch her limbs through their full range of motion, and feel the smooth interaction of her coat with the soft bedsheets. It also felt good to see her beautiful tail again, lustrous and curled, just as she remembered it. 

The bedroom itself, the only guestroom in Fancypants’ downtown pied-à-terre, was opulent without being overstated. All of the furniture was hoof-carved from dark wood and the two wingback chairs in opposing corners were luxuriously upholstered in a painstakingly embroidered sky blue satin with gold trim. A massive armoire stood to the left of the bed and an oversized vanity occupied the other side of the room. The bed was no larger than Rarity’s own back in Ponyville, but the mattress gave Rarity a taste of what it must feel like for pegasi who could sleep on clouds. For the short time she had to enjoy it, it was the most comfortable sleep she had ever had. Getting out of bed would be a terrible sacrifice. 

Now that she was awake, however, Rarity was forced to confront the events of the previous night. Colonel Tempest had flown into the city and notified both the civil police and the Royal Guard of the tragedy at Blueblood’s castle, and soon the courtyard where the griffon leader had perished was swarming with investigators. Everyone had answered questions, but with no body present and no evidence of foul play beyond the mutterings of the remaining griffon contingent, the ordeal was surprisingly brief. Rarity saw the investigators take samples from the kitchen and various glasses, plates, and serving vessels on the dining table, and then they left. She couldn’t help but think that the investigators were somewhat intimidated by the sheer star power on display at the castle, or they might not have been so reluctant to impose on the guests. 

Of course, there was absolutely no reason to believe that what had happened was anything more than unfortunate timing. The chancellor had been old, and while his appearance proved that he had been through a few scrapes in his day, no one could see how healthy, or unhealthy, he had been on the inside. Rarity had heard the story of a pony who lived to be older than anypony in Equestria, which he attributed to clean living and hard work. He was invited to Canterlot to celebrate his one hundred fiftieth birthday party with Princess Celestia herself, but upon eating the Princess’ rich food, which was so different from the simple raw apples and carrots he normally consumed, he immediately dropped dead. Perhaps the feast, and the stress of the tension between the ponies and griffons, had been too much for the old leader. Whatever the cause, Rarity was sure that it had nothing to do with any of the guests. 

After the police and Guard left, the various teams had gathered together to officially decide whether to press on with the race in the morning. Among those who chose not to abstain, the vote was unanimous in favor of sticking to the original schedule. All of Equestria was waiting with bated breath, after all, and it wouldn’t do to disappoint. Moreover, Fancypants had pointed out, there was no better time than the present to show the world that griffons and ponies could get along, and demonstrate the values of sportsmanship, mutual trust, and fair play. 

Rarity had been one of the abstainers. At this point a large part of her simply wanted to go home. Even if the rest of her simply couldn’t brook disappointing Fancypants and the rest of the elites, it didn’t mean she had to actively vote in favor. She sighed. Given that the race was going to begin today, and soon, she decided that it was time to set her hooves on the ground and face the morning. With great effort and not a little regret, she rolled out of the bed and walked slowly over to the vanity. 

“Okay, Rarity, let’s see how you’re holding up.” 

A quick glance in the mirror confirmed what she had feared. Her mane was disheveled and tangled from the fascinator that had been elaborately pinned in it for an entire day, there were puffy bags under her eyes, and the makeup that she had not had the energy to wash off the night before was crusted and cracked. “Oh my, I look more like Scarity than Rarity,” she muttered. There would be no salvaging her mane and face from this dreadful state. She had to get cleaned up. A check of the clock revealed that she had just enough time left to bathe. 

A door within the guestroom led to a private bath, and the instant Rarity stepped inside, she was awestruck. If Fancypants had chosen to decorate the bedroom in a rather subdued fashion, then he had allowed himself to go absolutely wild in the bath. It was a symphony in glass, marble, and polished brass, and though Rarity wasn’t sure the combination was entirely harmonious, it was certainly grand in scope and scale. For one thing, the bathroom was enormous, at least as large as the bedroom itself. One wall was floor to ceiling mirrors, adjacent to which stood carved pedestal sinks in the shape of half-fish, half-pony creatures each holding a bowl in their outstretched hooves. Mirrored cabinets flanked the sculptures, and more mirrors hung above them. If Rarity had wanted to admire herself, which at this moment she most certainly did not, the setup would have been ideal. 

In the middle of the room a door presumably led to the water closet, and the entire remainder of the space was dedicated to bathing. Robes hung on brass hooks and plush towels displaying a monogrammed “F” were neatly folded and stacked. A tub large enough for Rarity to swim a few strokes stood on sturdy cast iron hooves, and even more impressive was the open shower beside it. Shiny brass pipes snaked in and out of the marble, forming a large cage that enclosed three sides of the shower. The pipes were replete with nozzles and jets, dozens of them, far more complicated than anything she seen even at the spa. She had to try it. Despite the complexity of the plumbing, there was only one floor-mounted hoof-pedal engraved with the word “ON,” so Rarity stepped into the enclosure and pressed it.

Instantly, she was standing inside the heart of Canterlot Falls, if the Falls were heated to the perfect steamy, cleansing temperature. Water poured, whirled, cascaded, and jetted down, around, and across her body, massaging her and washing away any hint of uncleanliness. She felt purified, as if the water were giving her a rebirth and a new beginning as it swept away the previous day's dirt and tangles. Rarity closed her eyes and let the torrent carry away the unpleasant memories of the prior evening, her embarrassment at being singled out in front of the crowd, and her horror at the chancellor’s death. She was Rarity the unicorn, after all, and she did belong here. She was a very important pony. She was beautiful, and creative, and intelligent. She had the best mane and tail in Ponyville. She represented the spirit of one of the Elements of Harmony! She could show Fancypants, and the other racers, and all of Equestria, just exactly who she was. 

The Rarity that emerged from the shower, her coat sparkling and her normally curly hair wet and limp but free of tangles, was not the same pony who had entered it. This new Rarity was ready to face the day, and all of Equestria. She toweled off and floated her case of toiletries and cosmetics in from the bedroom. With a little magic and a judicious amount of hairspray, her hair was soon back to its normal gravity-defying bounce and curl, and careful application of makeup left her looking flawless. “Now you look like Rarity,” she said to her reflection in the wall of mirrors. 

Reemerging into the bedroom, she checked the wardrobe and was gratified to see that one of Fancypants’ staff had taken the dresses out of her garment bag and hung them on the rack inside. She had so many wonderful choices to select from for her public appearance at the race, but for now she decided to enjoy the freedom of her own skin and coat just a little while longer. She trotted out of the room and down the staircase outside to the living quarters below. 

“Good morning, my dear, and may I say that you look as fresh as a daisy,” Fancypants said from his breakfast table seat. “Today is the day we’ve all been waiting for.”  Rarity saw that he had several newspapers spread out on the table before him. A phonograph perched on a spindly-legged stand softly played a piano concerto. She also noticed a pot of pressed coffee and an empty cup that Rarity determined must be meant for her. 

“I’m ready,” Rarity replied as she took a seat of her own at the table. “And might I thank you most sincerely for allowing me to stay here last night. I was so tired that I barely even remember leaving the castle, let alone how I came to wake up in that fabulous bed.”

“Ah, yes, think nothing of it,” Fancypants said. “I think we were all exhausted by the events of last evening, and I can imagine why you must have had an especially trying experience. My stallion Coltsworth practically had to carry you upstairs.”

“I’ll have to thank him, then. I hope I wasn’t too much of a burden for the poor fellow. On another subject, may I ask what you’re reading?”

“You may indeed,” said Fancypants. “To nopony’s surprise, word has reached the press of the unfortunate incident at the duke’s castle, and it’s all over the morning papers. Since there is no story that cannot be sensationalized, the speculations regarding how Chancellor Ninetalons perished are rampant. The one thread of truth that I keep coming across in these stories is that the territorial disagreement with the griffon clans is only going to get worse now. Ninetalons was keeping his side in check.”

“What’s going to happen then?” Rarity asked.

“Nopony can say, I’m afraid. I can tell you one thing that’s already happened, though. Tempest stopped by a moment before you came downstairs to tell me that the Cloudsdale airship has officially pulled out of the race. Apparently they felt they needed to be closer to home in case the political situation worsens over the next several days. I can’t say that I blame them.”

“I suggested to one of them last night that the wisest thing to do at this point might be to request that Princess Celestia intervene, but they have no intention of asking for her to do so,” Rarity said. “They’re afraid the griffons might misperceive any overture from the Princess as threatening. I think that if anyone can fix this mess, the Princess can.”

Fancypants looked up from his newspapers. “I’m inclined to agree with the pegasi, my dear, but for my own reasons.” He sighed deeply. “I have as much faith and trust in the Princesses as anypony, but you must understand that as long as we rely on them to get our country out of every uncomfortable situation, we’ll never advance as a culture. I don’t want ponykind to live like children forever. I must be honest with you, Miss Rarity, I’ve personally petitioned Princess Celestia to let her subjects handle the griffon problem without her or Princess Luna intervening. We’ve already become so dependent on the Princesses that we forgot long ago how to bring about night and day on our own, and I don’t want Equestria to abdicate all of our diplomatic affairs to them as well.”

“What did Princess Celestia say?” Rarity asked, surprised. 

“She agreed with me,” Fancypants replied at once. “She consented to observe passively for the time being, and whole-heartedly supported my plan to use the Alicorn’s Cup as a goodwill gesture. We can show everypony that we can fairly and peacefully compete and coexist with griffons and anyone else as well. After the race a diplomatic mission can be put together to heal any remaining injuries felt by either side. Despite what the papers say, I assure you that these are not yet desperate times.”

“I hope you’re right,” Rarity said.

“So do I,” Fancypants said somberly. Then, his face lit up with a smile. “At any rate, we still have a race to win. In fact, we need to be moving along if we’re going to make the opening ceremony.”

“Oh no, I’m not packed up!” Rarity exclaimed, hopping out of her seat. “I haven’t even picked out my ensemble for today!”

“Ensemble? There’s no need for that!”

Rarity turned toward the voice and saw Windlass walking in through Fancypants’ front door with Elbow Grease following behind. They were both wearing a sort of white zippered jumpsuit with bold red stripes running down the legs. Huge embroidered patches were sewn on over the spot where a pony’s cutie mark would normally be seen, displaying the logo and initials of the Canterlot Steam Engine Company. Windlass used her magic to deposit two bundles of fabric on the breakfast table, and Rarity quickly surmised that they constituted more of the hideous outfits.

“Oh no no no,” Rarity said quickly. “My business depends on my good taste, and I simply can’t be seen in front of all of Canterlot dressed like some sort of maintenance worker.” She turned to Elbow Grease. “No offense.” 

“I completely understand your concerns,” Fancypants said.

“Then I don’t have to wear this?”

“Ahem, well, I would consider a great honor and a personal favor if you would. You see, every team will be racing in uniform. We’ll appear far more professional if we all dress alike.”

“But surely not everypony will be dressed like that,” Rarity complained, gesturing at Windlass and Elbow Grease. “You should have asked me to design something fabulous.”

“Somehow I don’t think big hats and poofy gowns are the most aerodynamic things to wear in a race,” Windlass broke in, sounding annoyed. 

“All I can do is say ‘please,’” Fancypants added.

As unfortunate-looking as the outfits were, Rarity had to admit that she was outnumbered by Fancypants and the others, and the proper course of action in such a situation was usually to gracefully admit defeat. 

“Fine, I’ll wear it,” she said exasperatedly. “I’ll go upstairs to pack the rest of my things and change, and I’ll be back in a moment.”

“There’s no need to waste your time packing,” Fancypants said. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re changed, and my staff will see to it that your things are sent along with the rest of our supplies.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you,” Rarity began, “but I’m very particular about my things, and I wouldn’t want to leave anything behind.”

“Have no fear, you have my word as a gentlepony that nothing important will be missed,” Fancypants replied.

“Then I gladly accept your offer,” Rarity said. She took hold of the smaller bundled jumpsuit with her magic and made her way back upstairs to the guest bedroom. Excepting the closest of friends, a lady never changed in front of others; it was inelegant to say the least. Standing in front of the mirrored bathroom wall, she unfolded the jumpsuit, awkwardly squeezed into it, and then zipped herself in from belly to neck. As she had expected, it rendered her lumpen and shapeless, and the stark white color of the garment made her beautiful coat look dull and dingy by comparison. 

“I hereby pronounce myself guilty of fashion treason,” she said to her mirror image. “The sentence is public humiliation, to be carried out at once.” She began to walk back to the group, and as she started it immediately became clear that the stiff, unidentifiable fabric of the garment made an obnoxiously loud sound as it rubbed against itself. “Awful.”

“Splendid!” Fancypants exclaimed as Rarity descended the staircase. He was already wearing his own jumpsuit. The image was so absurd that if he’d been wearing the outfit when she had first met him, Rarity wasn’t sure she would have even recognized the famous mogul from Canterlot. “Now,” he said, “we look like a team.”

“A team of blind ponies,” Rarity whispered, hoping nopony caught her grumbling.

“Colonel Tempest is already moving the ship to the holding area near the start, and so the time has come for us to depart,” Fancypants announced. “Adventure awaits, let us be off!”

With only four, it was technically feasible, if practically uncomfortable, to fit the group in just one of Fancypants’ steam carriages. Moments later, Rarity found herself rumbling toward Canterlot Castle, wearing a ridiculous jumpsuit that accentuated all the wrong places, and uncomfortably close to Elbow Grease, who smelled intensely of pickles, onions, and sweat. At least it was a beautiful day. The pegasus ponies had seen to that.

“I have a confession to make,” Fancypants suddenly spoke up. “When I said that nothing important of yours would be left behind, what I should have said was that we can only take that which is vitally necessary. Accordingly, the airship is being packed with the essentials; namely food and basic toiletries.”

Rarity realized that she had been had. She had been cajoled into wearing this abomination, and then tricked into leaving her things back at the pied-à-terre. Fancypants, the one pony in Canterlot that she could trust, aside from the Princesses of course, had betrayed her. She was furious.

“No! Coltsworth, turn this thing around at once!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, causing the other passengers to cover their ears. Rarity could be persuasive when she had to be, and this was one of those times.

“Belay that!” Fancypants exclaimed. “Miss Rarity, please, I had to get you out of the house so that we could make the opening ceremony in a timely manner. I’m terribly sorry to have to resort to deception, and I realize that it was most unbecoming of me. I never expected you to bring your entire wardrobe here to Canterlot, but since you did I had to find a way to convince you to leave it behind. I decided that there was simply no way to get you to part with your things willingly, even on a temporary basis.”

“Of course not!” Rarity replied hotly. “I am a lady, and I remain so at all times. I cannot simply let myself devolve into some kind of sweaty workpony on account of this race! Now pleae turn around so that I may get my things.”

“We cannot carry the extra weight and remain competitive,” Fancypants stated adamantly. Windlass and Elbow Grease remained taciturn, avoiding the fray at all costs. 

“Then you shall not carry my extra weight,” Rarity said. “Erm, as small an amount as that may be. I’m leaving.”

“Please, Rarity, we absolutely, positively need you with us. Don’t do this for me, but for Equestria,” Fancypants pleaded. “Remember what I said about how important the Cup is for the future, and for peace.”

Rarity wasn’t completely naive. After the reaction to her being announced as a “heroine of Equestria” at the dinner last night, she found herself wondering whether Fancypants wanted her along more for good public relations and marketing than for the pleasure of her company. His insistence that she wear his branded jumpsuit wasn’t helping convince her otherwise. On the other hoof, if there was the chance that her participation in the regatta could help stave off conflict between ponies and griffons, then that was a worthy reason to continue on. Could it be that the presence of the pony who represented the spirit of the Element of Generosity could make a difference? Rarity’s logical mind questioned whether it could be so, but her vanity argued “yes!” There was also the small matter that her name would be on the tongues of every pony in Equestria who followed the race, many of whom might become inclined to peruse her wares, and most of them would never see her unfortunate attire up close. 

Rarity sighed. “For Equestria, I’ll go along with this.” Equestria, peace, and free publicity, she thought. If Fancypants could have his unspoken agenda, then so could she. Perhaps she could launch a aeronautical-inspired line for next season, based on her experience. 

“There’s the grandstand!” Windlass exclaimed excitedly, gesturing at the carriage window with a hoof. 

Rarity looked and saw that the carriage was about to turn onto the grand concourse that led straight to the main entrance of the Princesses’ palace. To the right of the concourse, looking toward the palace, were the green hills and fields of the palace grounds. To the left was a steep slope leading to a sheer drop to the valley far below. She remembered walking it’s length, full of gleeful anticipation, on the night of last year’s Grand Galloping Gala. Now the scene was completely changed from that night.

An enormous grandstand thirty rows deep or more had been erected on the right side, running the entire length of the concourse from the palace gate to the end of the road, and the stands were already full of ponies. Midway down on the left, Rarity saw a precarious wooden structure of scaffolding, platforms, and stairs, which she recognized as the boarding platform for the teams to take to their airships. The airships themselves were conspicuously absent. A few carriages were parked on the concourse, and Rarity realized these had to belong to the other racers. Opposite the the boarding platform, a large brass band was set up directly in front of the grandstand. A great cheer erupted from the crowd as Fancypants’ steam carriage made the turn onto the concourse after passing through a checkpoint of unicorn Royal Guards. 

By the time the carriage had stopped and Rarity stepped out, the cheering had died down. Suddenly, though, it returned even more enthusiastically than before. As Rarity looked around to spy a reason for the crowd’s fervor, dark shadows flashed overhead. When Rarity looked upward, she couldn’t stop herself from whooping and cheering along with everypony else.

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna zoomed past, flying abreast with what had to be the entire squadron of Wonderbolts; six of the talented fliers in their sharp blue and gold uniforms flanked the Princesses on each side. Rarity had never seen twelve Wonderbolts at once, and had certainly never seen Princess Celestia and her sister flying together, under their own wingpower. The Princesses left the formation and gracefully alighted in a large box at the very top of the grandstand, which was already populated by four Royal Guard pegasi.

“The teams are all here, and so are the Princesses,” Fancypants said, pointing out the obvious. “The Opening Ceremony will begin shortly.” His prediction was nearly instantly confirmed. 

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” a clear stallion's voice rang out over the hubbub of the crowd. Rarity knew that it had to be either a unicorn speaking using magical voice amplification, or some other kind of pony using one of the new enchanted “megaphones.” “I’m Golden Pipes, and on behalf of the Royal Yacht Club of Canterlot, the Canterlot Times, Equestria Today, and of course, our beloved Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, I am pleased to welcome every pony and every visitor from afar to our fair capital city for the fifth ever Alicorn’s Cup regatta.”

As the crowd exploded into cheers once again at the announcer’s introduction, Rarity saw for the first time that a small slice of the grandstand was occupied by griffons, and there were other creatures sprinkled throughout. There was a donkey or a mule far to her left, and there at the top of the grandstands was a small group of zebras. Three hulking buffalo near the front were impossible to miss, and there were probably other non-ponies that Rarity simply couldn’t pick out. 

“And now, let’s all give a cheer for Equestria’s very own Wonderbolts!” As the announcer finished speaking, twelve blue and gold streaks crisscrossed overhead, weaving a tapestry of colored smoke behind them. The crowd cheered and the brass band played a martial tune as the Wonderbolts intersected and then broke apart in all kinds of impossible-seeming patterns, forming stars, diamonds, and even fleur-de-lys patterns in the cloudless sky. 

“According to the instructions I received from the organizers, we need to get up to our spot on the platform while the aerial show is going on,” Fancypants announced over the roar of the crowd. “Let’s go.”

As Rarity and the others approached a steep staircase leading up to the top of the boarding platform, she observed the other teams that were present. The griffons, still in their chainmail and helmets and led by the rotund Elector Graywings, flew up to the platform from the ground. Rarity was relieved to see that the other pony squads and Prince Khufu’s team wore jumpsuits not unlike her own. As with her own group, one member of each of the other teams was absent, presumably gone to pilot their airship to the boarding platform at the proper time. The Homespire griffons were gone, as were the pegasi from Cloudsdale, having withdrawn. There was also no sign of Blueblood. Rarity wondered whether he had managed to fix the problems with his ship in the few hours available this morning. 

The ponies surmounted the stairs and arrived at the top of the platform. The wooden structure was precariously high off the ground and alarmingly narrow, and a fall off any side would surely prove disastrous for the wingless competitors. Rarity made a mental note not to flail about and kick any Wonderbolt who should try to save her if she fell. After her near-death experience in Cloudsdale, when the spell that temporarily gave her wings had failed, she had cajoled Twilight Sparkle into teaching her the enchantment for making clouds become solid beneath her hooves. Today, though, there weren’t even any clouds to potentially break her fall. Keeping well clear of the edge, she stood in a line with Fancypants, Windlass, and Elbow Grease and looked out on at the multitude staring back at her.

A series of thuds reverberated across the platform, and Rarity steadied herself as she looked around. The Wonderbolts had finished their show and had landed at even intervals all along the length of the boarding platform. Rarity had seen the Wonderbolts often enough to recognize several of them on sight. That handsome stallion with the wild dark blue mane and the petite mare, Fleetfoot, took up positions closest to her team. 

“And now,” Golden Pipes’ voice boomed, “the time has come to introduce the six airships that will be competing in this famous race across the world, and their brave crews. First, sponsored by the Canterlot Steam Engine Company, the airship Fancy Free!” The band blew a mighty fanfare to punctuate the announcer’s proclamation, but Rarity still didn’t see any airship. Only when the cheering and stomping of hooves reached a new crescendo did she think to look backwards.

Fancy Free slowly rose from behind the boarding platform, climbing vertically from where it had been holding far below. The balloon, in the form of a hulking oceanic leviathan, looked somewhat menacing as it ascended. Finally, the main hull was lifted into sight, its fresh white paint with red detailwork gleaming in the sunlight. Four propellers on short wings added to the sides of the craft were swiveled into a vertical position, allowing the airship much greater vertical control authority than the movable fins they replaced. Colonel Tempest, clad in a jumpsuit that matched the rest of the team, occupied the helm. Rarity watched as he swiveled the propellers and carefully turned the ship so that it was abeam of the platform. At that point the two Wonderbolts standing behind leapt from the platform to help pull the airship the rest of the way in, and secured it with mooring lines. A gangplank was pulled from the platform to rest on the side of the airship, and then secured. 

This was it; time to say goodbye to solid ground for a few days and get ready for a trip across Equestria and beyond. Rarity knew that she had had every chance to refuse, turn around, and go home, yet she hadn’t. Whether it was her love of the spotlight, her need to impress Fancypants and the elites, or her desire to be a part of something that would potentially only come around once in her lifetime, she had decided to forge ahead. The others were already boarding the airship, so she gave one last enthusiastic wave and blew a kiss to the crowd before turning to follow them.

“The Captain of Fancy Free is none other than Canterlot’s own Fancypants!” Golden Pipes’ amplified voice called out. “With him are Colonel Tempest, retired from the Royal Guard; aeronautical engineer Windlass, technician Elbow Grease, and Rarity, president of Ponyville’s Carousel Couture fashion house, personal friend to Princess Celestia, and one of the brave mares who defeated Night Mare Moon and Discord!” 

At least they got the fashion designer part first this time, Rarity thought. Yesterday she might have been embarrassed by such public acclaim. Today, though, after washing away her doubt in Fancypants’ amazing shower, she was ready to embrace this part of her identity. She waved enthusiastically to the applauding crowd. “Here I am, Equestria, Rarity the unicorn!” she mouthed, inaudibly against the background noise of the engine, propellers, stomping hooves, and raised voices.

The announcer called forth each of the other airships in turn, and one by one the vessels rose from below and were anchored to the platform by a pair of Wonderbolts. 

The citrus growers’ airship, Refresh, was an ungainly box with rotating paddles for propulsion, tethered to a large ovoid balloon shaped something like a fat goldfish, but garishly decorated to look like an enormous orange. Every part of the airship that could be covered with representations of citrus fruit, was. 

The Fillydelphia ship, called the Flyer, was as traditional as could be. The balloon was a silvery cylinder stabilized by a quartet of fins, and the hull hanging below resembled an old wooden airsailer. Only the large propellers on either side and the steam chimneys revealed it to be of a modern design. 

The griffons from the northern peaks flew the airship Stiletto, a dagger shaped hull painted red and suspended from sixteen large white balloons roped together in a two-abreast line running parallel to the long axis of the craft. Six small propellers spun on long rotatable wings that emerged near the back of the airship, exactly where the crossguard would be on the ship’s namesake knife. To Rarity’s untrained eye, the airship looked fast and threatening, but far less stable than some of the other designs.

Finally, the ship from Prince Khufu’s deceptively-named Everfree Shipping was appropriately named the Everfree, and was painted in a black and white-striped zebra aesthetic with lightning bolt accents. Though any trace of an aquatic theme was absent, it still bore a superficial resemblance to Fancy Free.

“And now I’ve been informed of an adjustment to the program,” Golden Pipes declared. “Ahem. We have a sponsorship change. The final entrant is no longer sponsored by North Star Shipwrights of Canterlot, but is being privately sponsored by its captain. I give you the final competing craft, the airship Alicorn flown by His Grace, the Duke of Canterlot!”

Rarity waited, but no ship rose from below to take the last spot on the platform. Had Blueblood simply decided he couldn’t compete and given up? At that moment she saw that some of the crowd were pointing to the sky, and she followed their outstretched hooves. There, growing larger by the second, was another airship barrelling toward the palace grounds and leaving a trail of white steam billowing in the air behind it. Rarity had never seen anything like it. 

The Alicorn was somewhat similar in philosophy to Fancy Free and Blueblood’s identical yacht Sacrebleu, but it was worlds different in execution. The balloon was no rounded sea giant, but was instead encased in a beautifully-crafted structural covering that gave it the pointed aerodynamic shape of a speedy billfish. The spear-nosed balloon had its own stabilizing fins and tail that allowed it slice effortlessly through the air while maintaining a steady course. The hull suspended beneath was sleek, smaller in every dimension than Fancy Free and more sharply curved. The ship’s hull was ivory, devoid of any commercial insignia but covered all over in swooping gold accents and curlicues. A sculpted gold alicorn figurehead boldly pointed the way forward from the bow. Unlike Fancy Free, from which the steerable fins had been removed in favor of propellers, the Alicorn retained two large flipper-like fins on either side of the hull for control. Rarity could see that the airship’s primary means of propulsion was a single enormous propeller, wider than the hull itself, that extended directly aft in order to push the ship forward. 

Upon reaching the vicinity of the grandstand, the Alicorn’s control fins all rotated sharply in opposite directions, and the airship canted over into a descending turn so sharp and steep that the hull swung outward on its tethers until it was nearly on its side and completely out from under the balloon. Rarity then watched the ship slow with what seemed like practiced ease and drop into position with the other competitors. She could see Blueblood standing on the airship’s deck, but his face was mostly obscured by thick goggles. He wore no atrocious jumpsuit, but instead a handsomely cut sport jacket. Rarity felt a pang of jealousy. 

“The competitors have arrived!” the announcer declared. “But the race cannot begin until the rules are established. The Alicorn’s Cup is a race across all the known lands, to the very edge of the endless sea and back. The racers will travel a course that will take them through Equestria, over the jungles and swamps in the lands to the south, westward to the ocean shore, and then north to the icy fjords of the untamed northwest. The course then proceeds east to the mountains where the griffons roost, and then straight back here to Canterlot. Most of the race is through Equestria or friendly country, and wherever possible observation balloons have been tethered along the way so that journalists and course monitors can track the progress of the race and the status of the racers. Sometimes, though, the Alicorn’s Cup will take these brave souls so far afield that they must travel through untamed lands, where there is no weather control, and where there are no towns or havens to seek refuge.”

Golden Pipes paused to let the potential hazards of the race sink in. Rarity knew how the race was structured; Fancypants hadn’t hidden that from her at least. She was convinced that three unicorns, a pegasus, and a technically-inclined earth pony couldn’t get into too much trouble, even far from Equestria. She’d been through worse on the ground than they would encounter from the safety of the air. 

“We are fortunate to have the Wonderbolts as course monitors for the regatta. They will fly ahead and position themselves at the observation balloons, and will catalog the time and positions of the racers as they pass predetermined waypoints. This information will be couriered back to Canterlot as fast as the swiftest news pegasus can fly. The Wonderbolts will also watch for rules violations, and can be contacted should any team wish to report an infraction or withdraw for any reason.”

Golden Pipes went on. “The rules are simple. Each team must pass all of the waypoints and collect proof of doing so. The required proof for each waypoint is different, and is included in the instructions that have been provided to each team this morning. Collisions and any other airship-to-airship contact are forbidden, and will result in immediate disqualification. The first airship crew to cross the finish line in Canterlot with the required evidence of passing each waypoint will be declared the winner, and their names will be forever inscribed on the Alicorn’s Cup.” He paused again before continuing. 

“Competitors, please release your lines and position your airships in the starting area!” 

Rarity hung back as Windlass and the two Wonderbolt escorts untied Fancy Free from the platform. Within seconds, the ship was floating in air, completely disconnected from the land below. The deck vibrated as power was increased to the engine, and soon the airship turned and began to move. On either side the other craft were doing the same. Soon they formed a ragged line abreast, each ship pointed south, away from Canterlot. And toward home, Rarity thought. 

“And now, before the race begins, we have one final speaker. I present to you, Princess Celestia of Equestria!” The crowd applauded, and then hushed at once as the alicorn stood up in her box and began to speak.

“Hello my little ponies,” the Princess began, pouring her mellifluous voice over all assembled. “Welcome guests of all stripes. I want to offer a few final words before the race begins. The Alicorn’s Cup always ushers in momentous occasions. I remember each one quite well. This year, the race celebrates the spread across all the world of a new technological marvel, the reciprocating steam engine. But we should also remember that the race does more than celebrate what has already been achieved. It also points the way toward the future. It represents the opportunity to showcase the best of us; bold spirits, indomitable hearts, and camaraderie between all free creatures. Difficult and tragic events have recently transpired in Canterlot, and there will doubtless be tense moments ahead. Yet we don’t have to let our disagreements define us. I ask you, brave racers, to fly swiftly and fly fairly, and to inspire the world. Show us all that, though the world is changing in ways that even I cannot imagine, it can be change for the better. I expect you to break every record, and for all of you to return home safely.”

Even over a distance of hundreds of pony lengths, Rarity felt that the Princess was looking directly at her as she said the last. Well of course she planned to return home safely. There was hardly any reason to worry, given that she was in obviously capable hooves. 

“And now,” Princess Celestia continued, “I’d like give my sister the honor of starting the race. This is Princess Luna’s first Alicorn’s Cup, so let's make it a good one.”

“Miss Rarity.” Rarity turned as Fancypants tapped her shoulder with a hoof. "I believe we are about to get under way, and I was wondering if you would like to start us off.”

“Why yes!” Rarity affirmed. She had determined to make the most of this adventure at any cost, and what better time to start enjoying herself than right at the beginning?

“Excellent!” Fancypants exclaimed. “When Princess Luna calls for the race to begin, you need to throw that brass lever all the way forward to the stop marked ‘flank speed.’”

“It will be my pleasure, Captain!” Rarity replied, placing a hoof on the thick lever mounted next to the ship’s wheel, which currently rested on a detent marked "idle/full stop." 

“HOW DOTH THIS WORK AGAIN, SISTER?” Princess Luna’s voice boomed across the city of Canterlot, nearly causing Rarity to fall backward in surprise.

“Just say ‘go,’” the elder Princess replied, the conversation fully audible to everypony for miles around.

“INDEED! THE FUN BEGINS IMMEDIATELY! ALL OF YOU GO AT ONCE!” Princess Luna bellowed gleefully. 

“Whahaha!” Rarity gave an excited shout as she thrust the throttle lever all the way forward to its final stop. For the first time in nearly thirty years, the Alicorn’s Cup regatta had begun again. A biting, scouring wind washed over her as the airship accelerated away from the starting area, and as Rarity stared into the wind, her mane flying around her, she thought this might be even better than Fancypants’ marvelous shower. This was living like Rainbow Dash; it was pure unfettered exhilaration. She didn’t even turn around to look as Canterlot fell away behind her.