"I'm really excited about the Sisterhooves Social this year, Rarity," said Sweetie Belle over breakfast two Saturday mornings later. "It's nice to know that it really is you I'm with."
I grinned faintly. She had told me the story of the first time they had done the Social together, and she had gone through the whole thing thinking her partner was Applejack.
Mom sighed but smiled gently. "I see Candy's been a bad influence on you after all."
I blinked as I set down my fork. "I did what now?"
Mom gave me an amused look. "Having my little sister tease me about past incidents."
I managed a small smile as I lifted the fork again. "Oh, yeah, that."
Sweetie Belle giggled.
Mom tilted her head. "Dear, are you all right?"
I idly pushed around bits of fruit on my plate. It took me a moment to realize Mom was talking to me. "Huh?"
"You seem a bit distracted this morning."
"Oh." I speared a piece of fruit with the fork. "Yeah, I guess. I'm anxious to talk to Doctor Whooves to find out if anything happened that night."
"Is he finally back in town today?" Sweetie asked.
I put the piece of fruit in my mouth and gave it only a few perfunctory chews before swallowing. "I certainly hope so. I hadn't expected him to leave town with Roseluck to see her relatives."
Mom smiled. "Perhaps that's your answer."
I put down the fork with a clatter. "Then why don't I have a cutie mark to show for it? I'm not even quite sure what exactly the talent is or what it means."
"That, perhaps is why you don't have it yet," Mom suggested gently.
"It seems kinda obvious to me," said Sweetie Belle. "You help fix relationships."
"That's what I would tend to think as well," said Mom. "That it expresses itself through repaired clothing is more of a side-effect or metaphor. Much like how my talent is finding gems, but it often expresses itself by other means."
These were all things I had thought of as well. It should be that simple, but something was still missing. "Thanks," I murmured. I reluctantly picked up the fork again. "I guess I'll just have to keep--"
Mom suddenly gasped, her pupils shrinking slightly and her ears flattening as she flinched in her seat.
"Rarity! Your cutie mark!" Sweetie cried.
"Oh, dear," said Mom as she hopped off her chair. Her cutie mark glowed in the same pulsing rhythm I had seen that day I had made my promise about being more open to friendship after the mess with Chrysalis had been resolved.
"You're being summoned by the Map?" I asked.
"Apparently so!" Mom declared. "I must get to the castle at once! I'll be back as soon as know what's going on. Candy, Sweetie, please clean up after breakfast if you would, thank you!"
"Sure thing," I said as she galloped for the door.
Sweetie Belle sighed, her ears drooping. "So much for the Social this year."
"Oh, well, maybe it'll be just like with me, and it's right here in town," I said, though I wasn't really holding out a lot of hope; the last time, the Map sent Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash clear out of the country.
She pushed her plate aside and lay her head on her fore-legs. "I don't suppose you might go with me instead?"
"Sweetie, if you really have nopony else who can take you, I can do it."
She lifted her head. "You sure? I know you said you don't care for that sort of stuff."
I smiled. "Yeah, but Mom didn't want to do it that first time, and she wound up doing it anyway, right?"
"I know, but ... well, it's not going to be the last Social we'll ever have. I just want to make sure you have fun with it as well."
My smile widened. "Well, thank you, I appreciate that. Let's just see what happens." I slid out of the chair. "In the meantime, let's get the table cleared and the dishes cleaned up. Maybe you can come over with me later to see Doctor Whooves."
Sweetie Belle smiled and hopped off her chair. "I really hope this means you're going to get your cutie mark soon, Candy. I so want to be there when it happens."
I grinned as I levitated plates off the table. "So do I, Sweetie."
Sweetie Belle trotted alongside me, bringing the silverware. "Speaking of which, have you had any problems at school because you don't have a cutie mark?"
I managed not to roll my eyes as I remembered what Summer had told me about Stronghoof's "exotic" tastes. I was not about to try to explain that to a filly Sweetie's age. "Not really." Excluding that one incident, that was pretty much the truth. "Maybe a few odd looks, but nopony's ever said anything to me directly."
Sweetie Belle grinned. "Probably because they know you won't take that from them."
I started the water running in the sink. "Now where did you get that idea?" I said in a mostly bemused voice, but my lips twitched into a small smile.
"Friend of mine at school has an older sister going to Ponyville High," said Sweetie as she grabbed a dish towel. "She said you're getting pretty well-known for telling ponies exactly what you think but without being mean about it."
I gave her a nonplussed look as I added dish soap to the water. "Really?"
Sweetie giggled. "She also said ponies are wondering why you don't have more of a Manehattan accent, since it would just fit you perfectly."
I laughed. "Oh, are they now?"
Sweetie smiled as she plucked a dish from the soapy water and started cleaning it. "I really hope I can be that confident when I go to high school."
I blushed. "Well, thank you, but I don't know if I'd call it confidence. More like trying to stop things from going too fast."
Sweetie tilted her head. "What things?"
I smirked. "Dating, romance, boys."
She scrunched her muzzle. "Ugh. Girly-girl stuff."
"You know what?" I said as she passed the dish to me to rinse. "Maybe I like the occasional spa treatment now and then, but I'm not quite ready to be a, ah, full-on girly-girl yet, either."
Sweetie giggled. "Good. You had me worried for a while."
"I did?"
"Yeah. You've been hanging out with that boy Bright Flame."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, now don't be like Sunny, please. She's a good friend, but she really is a little too boy-crazy sometimes."
Sweetie's pupils shrank as she caught what I had implied by my reply. "Hey, wait, I'm not boy-crazy!"
I grinned and leaned closer to her. "You suuuure?"
Her mouth dropped open. "Wh-what??"
I snorted and jabbed a fore-hoof at her. "Gotcha."
She rolled her eyes. "No fair teasing me like that!"
I giggled. "What are older sisters for?"
Sweetie slowly smiled and giggled as well.
"But, seriously, the only times Bright and I were together it was nothing more than lunch, and we were hitting the books the whole time. Arcane Theorems is proving a bit tough for me, and I'm one of three ponies he's helping tutor. At least one of the others is a filly, too."
"Yeah, but from the way my friend said Sunny talks about it, well, you know."
I groaned. "I know, I know."
I had wondered myself if hanging around Bright would spark anything, but so far, nothing. He was a great friend, and I admired his intellect, but more in the way I admired the same in Twilight. While I had no reason to rush myself, Sunny was insistent we made a "cute couple."
"At least your other filly friends don't go on and on about it," said Sweetie.
"Yeah, there is that." Breaking the ice with other ponies at that party had indeed helped me, but I had since sought out more ponies of my own gender. "Even they agreed that Sunny is a little, um, obsessed."
"Maybe they could talk to her about it."
I had considered that, and they had even offered, but I shook my head. "No, Sunny was my first real friend at school, and she still is. If it gets out of hoof, I'll talk to her myself."
I changed the topic to something more mundane as we finished up with the dishes. I had only just placed the dishtowel back on its holder when Mom burst into the boutique at near full gallop, taking the stairs at a pace she would normally criticize Sweetie or myself for if we dared do it. "Sweetie! Candy! I have good news!" Her gaze fell on Sweetie Belle. "Oh, and, um ... some bad news, I suppose, as well."
"I knew it," Sweetie said in a resigned voice.
I turned towards Mom. "You're going out of town again, I take it?"
She practically beamed. "Yes, I am! And you'll never guess where Applejack and I are going!"
"Applejack was summoned?" said Sweetie. "Okay, now I don't feel quite as bad if Apple Bloom is going to have to sit it out, too."
I turned to her. "Well, I said I would go with you if--"
Mom uttered a joyous squeal. "Applejack and I are going to Manehattan!"
My mouth dropped open, and I simply froze.
Sweetie leaned close to me and whispered, "I don't think you're going with me."
"But, I ... she ..." I sputtered.
"Oh, this is simply fabulous!" said Mom as she trotted around the room. "And we're being summoned to the fashion district, of all places! Perhaps I can impress upon Applejack to expand her horizons with regards to her ensemble while we're there."
My heart raced. Manehattan was the closest I could ever get to seeing my old home again. If only this had happened before school started. If only I didn't feel obligated to take Mom's place at the Social.
If only ...
Sweetie Belle poked me gently. I looked down; she smiled and gestured with a fore-hoof. "Go on," she whispered. "Ask her."
"But what about the Social?" I asked in a quavering voice.
Sweetie shook her head. "It's okay, really. Go ahead."
I smiled my immense appreciation at her and turned just as Mom approached me. "Now, Candy, I need to make haste and get packed as soon as I can, and I--"
"Can you take me with you?" I blurted. "Please?"
Mom sighed, her ears drooping. "Candy, you have school on Monday, and--"
"But this is Saturday!"
"We have no idea how long this will take. It could very well carry us into the week."
I rubbed a hoof through my mane. "Then I miss a day or two of school, big deal."
"But it's important you keep up with--"
"I am keeping up with it!" I cried.
"But I've heard you say your Arcane Theorems class is--"
"And this is important to me. I have to know if it's anything like where I grew up back on my world."
Mom normally hated it when I interrupted her constantly, but now she simply gave me a forlorn look. "And if it takes us more than a day or two?"
I sighed. "Then stick me on a train back home. I just want to visit for a little while. I just want to see it."
Mom stepped closer. "Why are you so insistent on this, dear? I know you've told me before how you miss living in the city, but why now?"
"Honestly? I don't know," I said. "I just feel this pull. I've felt it for a little while now. It was always there from the start, but a lot of that was just getting used to living in a small town. This feels different somehow. Even Sweetie Belle will tell you I've been talking about it a lot with her."
Mom turned her head towards Sweetie, who immediately said, "She's right, Rarity. I think you should take her. I can sit out the Social this year."
"Are you absolutely sure, Sweetie Belle?"
Sweetie smiled and nodded. "Yep, I'm sure. This means a lot to Candy."
Mom turned back to me and slowly smiled. "All right, you can come with us."
I gave my own little squeal and hugged her tightly. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"
"But pack right now and hurry!" said Mom as she broke off the embrace. "We want to catch as early a train as possible, and the next one leaves in twenty minutes. Go!"
Still smiling, I nodded and rushed off.
"All aboard!!"
Mom trotted out ahead of us onto the train platform. "Oh, thank Celestia, we made it just in time!"
Applejack raised an eyebrow, a large trunk balanced on her barrel as she eyed us. "We woulda been here sooner if y'all hadn't wanted ta take everythin' but the kitchen sink."
"Hey, don't look at me," I said, my saddlebags filled to almost bursting. "Most of this is hers."
"Y'know, Rarity, we coulda done without half of this stuff," said Applejack as we stepped on board the train.
Mom made a dismissive noise and waved a fore-hoof as she picked out our seats. "One does not travel to such a place as Manehattan without a proper set of body and hair products to keep one looking their best at all times. Surely you packed something of the sort?"
"Nope. Ain't takin' nothin' more than my toothbrush and my hat. Figger the hotel can provide whatever else I need."
Mom sighed. "Please, do tell me you're kidding, that you wouldn't seriously trust the generic brand names you find at ... actually, strike that, don't tell me. The less I know, the less I'll worry."
I hid a grin behind my hoof as Applejack smirked and winked at me.
I slipped off the saddlebags and stowed them away with some help from Applejack before settling into my seat. I couldn't stop smiling. I never thought I would ever get this chance. My stomach did flutter a bit as I faced the prospect that it would not live up to my expectations. For now, though, the excited anticipation was enough to sustain me.
As I glanced out the window, I realized that this would be the first time I had left Ponyville since coming to Equestria. It brought back the fond memory of vacations with my birth mother. The exact destination in those days never mattered to me, just the fact that I was going somewhere. The travel itself felt more exciting than anything we might do once we got there.
And then there was the anticipation of seeing the familiar again on the return trip.
The whistle blew, and the train lurched forward, a head of steam rising from the engine and billowing overhead. I turned to the others. "So either of you know what this is going to be about?"
"Not a whit," said Applejack. "Jus' the general location in Manehattan."
"What, seriously? The garment district back in my world's version of that city was a sizable bit of real estate."
"That, unfortunately, appears to be how the Cutie Map works sometimes, dear," said Mom. "Your case was a bit more straightforward."
Applejack grinned. "Heh, well, findin' her was, but the rest? Not so much."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, thanks," I said in mock indignation.
We all laughed, and it very nearly drowned out a sudden, distant call: "Miss Swirl! Miss Swirl, wait!!"
I turned my head towards the window. "What the ...?!"
Mom and Applejack leaned forward. "Oh, dear, is that Doctor Whooves?" said Mom.
"Um, yeah, it is," I said, mystified.
The familiar brown stallion galloped on the platform alongside the train as it picked up speed, a wide smile stretched across his muzzle. Beside him was Roseluck with just as happy a look on her face.
Applejack smiled. "An' his little marefriend. Gotta admit, they make a cute couple."
Mom chuckled. "They do, don't they? Roseluck is probably the best thing that happened to that somewhat eccentric stallion."
"But why is he ..." I began, trailing off. I sighed and opened the window, the rush of air blowing my mane into immediate disarray. "Doctor, what is it?!" I shouted above the din of chugging engine and rolling wheels.
"I just had to tell you something!" the Doctor said as he started to fall behind when the train picked up speed.
"I did want to talk to you, but I can't right now!" I shouted back.
"I figured it out!" the Doctor cried. "It worked!"
"Huh? What worked?"
"The magic! It was all so simple! It--"
My ears flattened as they rang with the sound of the train whistle as it drowned out the rest of his words. The two ponies skidded to a stop at the end of the platform and soon disappeared from view around the bend of the the train as it went around a curve.
"Close the window, please, before it disturbs your mane even more," said Mom.
I slid the window closed, though most of the damage had been done anyway, and I brushed frizzled hair from my eyes with a hoof.
Mom sighed. "Well, getting your coiffure into proper shape I suppose is one way to pass the time."
"What in tarnation was that all about?" Applejack asked.
Mom smiled. "I might know, but I'll let Candy take it from here."
I blushed. "Er ... well ... I don't know anymore now myself."
"Come again, sugarcube?" Applejack asked.
"Well, I think my talent might be related to fixing relationships, and it has something to do with clothing."
"I'm not sure I follow."
I threw up my fore-hooves. "Join the club. It seems to let me mend damaged clothing perfectly, but it's somehow tied to fixing a relationship."
"I believe the clothing is more symbolic than anything else," Mom said. "Due to your seamstress skills."
Applejack smiled. "Well, now I unnerstand. That sounds like a mighty nice callin'."
"But it's not." I slapped a fore-hoof against my still blank flank. "At least not yet."
"When we get back from Manehattan, I'm sure we can straighten it all out," said Mom.
I looked back out the window again as the outskirts of Ponyville slid from sight, and I sighed softly as twinges of doubt fluttered about in my stomach. Should I have stayed in Ponyville and figured out what was going on with me rather than go on this lark?
Perhaps I would have them stick me on a train back home tomorrow after all. I would have my fill of the city, satisfy my dumb urge, and get back to what I really needed to focus on.
Immense edifices of steel and glass thrust up into a clear blue sky, the bright sun casting long shadows even at midday. How am I here already? Where's Mom? Where's Applejack?
No, there are cars here. Ponies don't have cars. There are HUMANS here. I look down and find I'm a human as well. This is New York City, but what am I doing here? Do I even want to be here anymore? This place is too dangerous! The drug lords will be after me for sure, and ...
... no, wait. This is my old neighborhood.
People rush by, going about their business. Cars roar past on the wide avenue. I can't help but smile. I recognize this street. I walked it countless times between our first tiny apartment -- before she made it big and we moved to the upper west side -- and my mother's bou ... my birth mother's clothing store, the first one she ever opened.
I utter a happy giggle and break into a run, skillfully dodging around the thicket of humanity that moves at its own varying pace and pays little heed to a giddy little girl who wants to see her mother after coming home from school.
I act as if the years have not passed. I may as well be that bubbly little girl, years before everything started to collapse. There is even a bit of a skip in my step as her store appears ahead in a brief gap in the early rush hour tide. I think nothing of the absence of my escort -- my indifferent aunt -- who would normally hold my hand and guide me along. I don't need her, as nothing can hurt me here. Not today.
I burst into the store with an enthusiasm that often annoyed my aunt but found delight in my mother, my hair swinging wildly behind me. I keep it long, as Mom loves to style it for me, and I enjoy those long moments with her. Hopefully she'll do it tonight after work. Yet no sooner than I am inside when I skid to a stop within an empty and utterly still store.
I look around in confusion as I brush strands of hair from my face. "Mom?" I call out in a wary voice as my gaze slowly tracks over the sample dresses sitting on mannequins or dangling from hangers, to the completed orders wrapped delicately in thin white paper behind the counter, to the gilded doors of the fitting rooms.
A lump forms in my throat, but I ignore it and step forward. "Mom? You in the back?"
Silence.
I whip my head around. People pass by outside as if the store doesn't exist, ignoring the beautiful clothing sitting in lovingly arranged splendor in the window. I frown and rush around the end of the counter and into the back.
I am at once assaulted by the rich odor of fresh fabrics and dyes. Scraps of cloth and bits of thread littering the floor whirl about as my passing disturbs them. Half-finished dresses and suits lay across tables. Several appear fed halfway into sewing machines. Rank after rank of mannequins, more than could ever possibly have fit in Mom's old store, sit in silently damning array, every last one covered with an incomplete order.
"Mom?" I call out in dismay as I wander about the mannequins. "How ... h-how did you get so far behind?! This is terrible! Do you need help?"
Help?
Why did I ask that? I'm just a little girl. I don't have her skill. I never even showed an interest.
My heart pounds. I am lost in the forest of mannequins. I can't find my way back. I try not to panic as I keep calling for Mom over and over in an increasingly frantic voice. I am finally brought up short when I come to a clearing of sorts. I blink rapidly as I recognize the battered old desk. It is the first desk my mother used for doing paperwork related to the store.
Upon it sits an envelope, sealed with a sticker shaped like a red heart.
I approach the desk cautiously, and my hand trembles as it reaches for the envelope. I turn it over, and my heart lurches. It says simply "To Rachel" in my mother's lovely, flowing script.
I tear the envelope open and tug the elegantly decorated paper within into the light. I open the letter and swallow hard as I read my mother's words:
I have so much to do.
Each creation can be a dream come true.
Then torn asunder 'til threads lay in tatters.
As if none of my effort really matters.I can fix things, but only so far.
And in the end, it still looks marred.
Like the hearts I wish I could renew.
I have so much to do.
I simply stare at the words, dumbfounded. What do they mean? I start to turn the letter over, not expecting anything. I flinch and gasp as the previously blank side now is filled with more eloquently written words:
So much I wished I had done.
And now, I understand, there are truly none.
None who have the time to do their part.
None who have the talent to mend a heart.So many stories remain unheard.
So many hearts remain sundered.
I wished I could have fixed just one.
So much I wished I had done.
"I-I don't understand," I sputter. "I ... wh-what??"
I nearly drop the letter in shock as I look around me. All the dresses and suits are torn and ripped, sometimes to complete shreds. Have they been that way all along and I simply missed it?
I let the hand still holding the letter drop to my side as I am drawn to the nearest of the devastated clothing. My free hand rises, trembling slightly, and alights on the fabric. I stand there for a long moment, as if expecting something to happen. When it does not, I draw back, confused. I feel compelled to look at the letter again.
The words I have just read on the back are gone. I flip it to the front, and new words greet me:
Listen to your heart, Rachel, and don't doubt where it leads you.
I stare at them, some tiny glimmer of understanding struggling to be seen through the miasma of conflicting feelings. I raise a hand to my chest as if to touch my own heart and coax it into revealing what it has to tell me. "I-I'm trying, I r-really am," I say in a plaintive voice as I look up. "All I want is to know what I'm supposed to be--" I gasp as I step forward and catch movement. "MOM!"
I barrel through the mannequins, knocking many of them over. I pant as I race forward towards where I am sure I have seen someone moving. Yet as I arrive, I stop dead and simply stare at a very strange sight.
I stand before what looks like a mirror, but the visage that greets me is nothing like my own reflection. I see a little unicorn, standing no taller than four feet, with oddly lurid colors and huge, expressive eyes staring at me with equal amounts confusion and wonder.
The creature finally smiles and raises a fore-hoof. She places it against the glass, where it ripples upon contact. I step forward, pause, and place my hand to the glass, gasping as it ripples on my side as well, yet the glass remains a barrier. The unicorn seems sad at this, and her eyes shift to the letter still in my other hand. I raise it to my eyes:
And your heart is where acceptance truly lies.
"But, I-I ..." I stutter. "What does this ..."
As I raise my gaze back to the unicorn, she again smiles as if in reassurance and slowly retreats.
"Wait!" I call out, but a fog has already settled over the mirror, the creature vanishing softly within.
Suddenly, a gentle voice echoes, "Candy, dear."
I stumble back, the letter falling from my hands as the fog spreads from the mirror to the room, enveloping me in swirling gray and white as the strange voice sounds again.
"Dear, you need to--"
"--wake up, we're just about there."
"Huh? What?" I muttered in a groggy voice as I blinked rapidly at the afternoon light streaming into the car. I yawned and stretched stiff limbs as I glanced over to Mom and Applejack. "Did I fall asleep?"
"Quite so," said Mom in amusement.
"Ya were out like a light, sugarcube," said Applejack with a grin.
I rubbed my head with a fore-hoof. "Ugh, I almost never do that on a train."
"Are you all right, dear?" said Mom.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Had a kinda weird dream, but ..." I turned my head towards the window and uttered a soft gasp. "Oh, wow, we are here!"
Mom chuckled. "While I normally would have let you get your beauty sleep, I was sure you didn't want to miss this."
I practically plastered my muzzle to the window. The train was making a wide, sweeping turn from south to the east, and the city opened up before me. I tilted my head as I tried to take in what I was seeing, and soon I let out a soft, long breath as my heart ached.
I knew not to expect a skyline like that of modern New York City, but what my eyes beheld seemed so perfectly adapted to the Equestrian mindset that it might as well be New York as seen through a pony lens. The essence of my former home lay here in all sorts of small ways that together comprised a whole which was both startlingly new and achingly familiar. Even the general shape of the city, with a central island of concentrated urban living surrounded by less crowded areas, was so similar that I wondered if I could walk its streets and never get lost.
Applejack leaned over towards the window. "Huh. Never did unnerstand how ponies can live in such a huge place."
I almost laughed. The one difference I could plainly see was that Manehattan did not sprawl anywhere near over the area covered by New York City. It was a city made by ponies for ponies, and not just a human-to-pony translation despite the name. Perhaps that had tempered my excitement a bit, for Mom laid a hoof on my shoulder and asked, "What do you think?"
"I'm ..." I began, but no other words came to me. The first tugs at my heartstrings had subsided. As the city loomed closer, I could see more differences than similarities. Whether that was true or just my mind trying to entertain a worst case scenario, I wasn't sure.
"It's okay, dear," Mom said softly. "If you need more time to form an impression, that's fine."
I turned my head from the window as the train slowed. "Yeah, I kinda do."
"If you wish to trail behind us a bit to just take in the sights, please feel free."
Applejack frowned. "Ain't that gonna be a little dangerous, havin' her hang back like that?"
Mom rolled her eyes. "Oh, Applejack, surely you don't buy into those stories of lawlessness and whatnot in the big cities?"
"Course I don't! Remember, I got relatives in the city myself. I jus' know ponies ain't as friendly in these here places. I don't wanna see her hurt."
I snorted. "Um, Applejack? I grew up in a city like this. I think I can handle ponies being a little less friendly."
Applejack slowly smiled. "Yeah, sometimes I ferget ya were actually raised in a place like this."
Mom smiled. "Really, darling, has it ever occurred to you that perhaps that's part of the friendship problem we've been summoned here to solve?"
"Ya may be right 'bout that, but this is a mighty big place. Hope we can figger it out."
I glanced out the window again as the shadows of buildings passed over the car, my mind turning towards the odd visions in my dream. I suddenly felt like I had something to figure out as well.