//------------------------------//
// Carousel 
// Story: Purity 
// by LightStriker 
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	Rarity admired the blueprint spread out on the wooden workbench in front of her. Her short experience as a designer was just enough for her to be able to appreciate the quality of this plan, even if it wasn't her branch of art at all. A famous pony once said that perfection was impossible, but a designer's job was to spend his life trying to reach it. She had started to see glimpses of what perfection could be in the design of her dresses, and how far she was from reaching it. In truth, the massive gap between her current abilities and that mental goal was sometimes frightening and encouraging her at the same time.

Although she had no training in architecture, she could see a lifetime of hard work towards perfection in the papers in front of her. They breathed experience, control and the mastering of an art form. She could only hope to reach such levels when she would be the age of their author. Rarity smiled and looked over her shoulder when she recognized the distinct gait of the brown earth pony trotting towards her. Nopony could figure out how old he really was from his energetic bouncing steps. His short silver mane had traces of the original pitch black color, but it was just long enough that they would freely flow in the wind. His square lines and rigid posture hinted at a life of physical work. He was a very old stallion who managed to keep the heart of a colt.

"Still looking at those silly doodles?" he asked with a friendly smile.

She smiled back. "Are you sure it's alright for you to help me rebuild my shop?"

Of course he knew what she was talking about, but he feigned ignorance pretending to think with a hoof on his jaw. "Oh! You mean the designer guild?" he said and blew a raspberry. "Those lazy aristocrats can eat a bale of hay for all I care."

"Be serious for a moment uncle Clé," she pleaded. She wasn't related to him in any form, but for her he was part of the family. "I would hate if it was giving you troubles."

Clé de Voûte, master architect, laughed at the idea. "They could try," he pouted. "It could be fun, but they won't. I'm currently designing and constructing a dozen buildings all over Equestria. Contracts for almost a quarter of a billion bits! I doubt any of those paper-pushers will do anything about it. They couldn't absorb the economical impact even if they wanted to," he said with pride. "Did you know I was supposed to retire five years ago? And yet this year my company received more contracts then ever before."

Rarity ignored the attempt at changing the topic. She pointed at the blueprint, which half a dozen construction ponies were currently working to implement at the spot her old shop used to stand. "How much? You still haven't told me your price."

"Nothing!" he said while shaking his head. Seeing she was about to argue, he raised a hoof to interrupted her. "And it's not open to negotiation," he finished with a look that didn't leave place for objection. He stood at her side. "I heard you became the bearer of the Element of Generosity?" he whispered.

"Not that it's any secret..."

"... but you still have a lot to learn about it," he finished. She gave him a confused look. "The Elements choose well. I'm sure your parents are very proud. You and your family are some of the most generous ponies I've met." He looked away. "And I've been in the receiving end of that generosity more than once in the past four or five decades. However, you should know that generosity is not a one-way street, being generous inspires generosity in others. Learning to gracefully receive it when in need is also an important skill," he explained, dead serious.

"I was about your age, when I made a terrible mistake," he started. Rarity didn't interrupt him even though she had heard that story more times than she could remember. "It was my second... or third contract and the investors found a loophole. They managed to remove their funding while I would still have to do the work. I was left on the road, forced to sell my home to pay for the construction. I was at a point where I was sure my career was over; who would accept to work with a pony who had nothing left?" He snorted. "That's when your grandfather invited me for a meal."

He looked at her. "You know, back then, I came very close to refusing his offer. Even if I was down for the count, I still had my pride, no matter how misplaced it was. A complete stranger welcoming me in his home? I didn't know him and I had no need for his pity. But... When you haven't eaten for a week, things aren't that simple."

"So, you accepted?" Rarity asked knowing full well the answer.

"I accepted," he replied. "I didn't understand why he did it. He had to take care of five foals already! He was already working overtime in some nameless factory. The last thing he needed was another mouth to feed!" He nodded at the memory. "A decade later I managed to get an answer out of him as to why he did it. He simply said that he saw potential in me, and that he hated nothing more than wasted potential." He stared at Rarity. "I guess I got this flaw from him," he said with a wink.

His stoic stance faltered. "So, how terrible are they?" he asked pointing at the workbench with a large smile.

"They are amazing."

"Non-sense!" he shouted playfully. "If I had a year or two to design those they would be a hundred times better!" 

Rarity frowned while staring at the plans; she didn't ask him anything. She had a hard time imagining how they could be made any better. When she was young, she had visited his workshop a few times. Seeing all those blueprints, she was sure she could draw some as well as them. After all, she was a unicorn and uncle Clé was an earth pony. No doubt she could draw like him with her magic! She could levitate four or five pens at a time and draw very quickly. Reality hit pretty hard when she saw him draw using his mouth and his front hooves. He was drawing many times faster than her, his lines were perfectly straight and always the right length. Even today, while drawing dress templates she was nowhere near his speed or precision. After all, unlike him, her cutie mark was not about drawing blueprints. "I don't see how..."

"Perfection, right?" he asked.

"What?"

"When you look at one of your latest dresses, you automatically see what's wrong with it, how to improve it. Am I right?" he asked with that annoying smile.

"I guess," she replied, unsure where he was going with it.

"I'm sure you do. And you think that one day you will craft a dress in which you won't find things to improve?" he said in a tone a teacher would take.

Rarity finally understood where he was going. "You're telling me it won't happen?"

"Not a chance. I have no doubt one day you will craft a masterpiece for which you will be remembered for centuries to come. You will complete it and ponies will be in awe about it. But while they cheer you on, you will think it's atrocious, seeing mistakes and things to change and to improve on in your next design. Such is the destiny of a true designer, my dear," he explained.

Rarity needed a moment to digest his words, then she pointed again at the plans. "So, this is?"

"A horror, an abomination, no less," he said, his head pointed up and his mouth twisted in disgust. He leaned towards her. "You should see what I'm designing for the Economical Exchange Tower in New Colt; a chef-d'œuvre."

"Until?" she asked with a playful smile.

"Until it's done of course!" he said as dramatically as he could, feigning surprise. "For which, at that point, it will be utterly rubbish."

Rarity smiled at the display. Her friends always said she was putting up quite a show and that she could have been a dramatic actress. Obviously, none of them had ever met Clé, who was at a completely different level. She had no doubt he acted, no matter how slightly, as a role model for her in her youth. Sometimes she wondered if she didn't retain more from him than from her father.

A few weeks ago, after that adventure in Canterlot, she had found a temporary place to stay in Twilight's guest room at the library, ruminating on her future or lack of one. She was sure her career was over. Being expelled from the guild of designers wasn't something anypony could easily overcome. The influence of the guild reached even beyond the borders of Equestria. She had wondered what profession she could perform; selling gems maybe?

Then Fancy Pants came and ordered a dozen dresses from her. She tried to explain to him that her shop was destroyed and that without a proper license from the guild he couldn't sell her creations in his own shops. He shrugged saying that they were for his wife Fleur-de-Lis. He asked to send him a letter when they would be ready, and that he didn't care how long it would take. He even paid in advance. She tried to make him understand, but he wouldn't hear a word.

He was the first of a few more ponies who came to order personal creations. And then Princess Cadance showed up at the library, also placing orders for a list of official events that would take place over the next year in the Empire. A few days later, while reading the newspaper, Rarity almost choked on her coffee. Somehow, the news ponies had learned about the Princess's visit to Ponyville and inquired why she did business with a dishonored designer.

"She made my wedding dress, and it was perfect. I have no say in how the guild handles their decision or their membership, and fortunately for me, they don't have a say in how I dress myself," was her declaration.

With Twilight's agreement, Rarity started to use the basement of the library as a small atelier, working on only one dress at a time due to the space limitation. To her surprise, she found that concentrating on a small number of unique creations was far more rewarding than the quantity she used to produce to supply shops across Equestria. None of her orders had any deadline, so she could put more time in her designs, something she didn't always have the luxury of.

Her career wasn't dead and it had taken a different path, one that she could not ever have predicted. She still wasn't sure if it wasn't for the best.

Then Clé came, with plans already made. Craftsponies were already working on making those blueprints a reality. He then proceeded to completely ignore every word she said. She tried very hard to give him something, anything, in exchange but he was a master at passing over her requests. Multiple times he managed to change the subject of discussion without Rarity even noticing it until it was too late.

“Thank you,” she said and gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

The architect gave her a surprised look which turned into such a large smile that she blushed. "My pleasure."