Bringing the Magic Back

by Amaranthine Thought

Chapter 1

The great city of Dawn’s Light had been the pinnacle of unicorn culture for a very long time. With the great white spires of the castle and the gleaming city, untouched by dirt, gleaming as if made from gemstone, the city earned its name well; the city’s splendor was often said to rival the beauty of the dawn itself.

The unicorns within lived lives perfectly set and defined, lives far different than those outside the great wall that bounded the city. Lives of culture, art, and thought; few truly worked within Dawn’s Light.

Rarity was one such unicorn, and she adored almost everything about Dawn’s Light. She adored the unicorns that walked the streets, loved to try and finagle herself up the social ladder, and loved to design and create fashion, always in high demand within Dawn’s Light. And always keeping her dream alive, letting herself hope for the best future she could imagine:

To one day marry the Lord of Dawn’s Light.

A high, possibly impossible, task, but Rarity had already climbed high, and was not about to stop. Her life orbited around her work, both her sustenance and her creative outlet, and around her dream. Little else managed to fit itself in, save for the very few times Rarity let herself relax and just spend a day at the spa.

Except in this particular time. She had just recently received notification that her parents had been involved in some accident and had died, or at least assumed dead; the bodies hadn’t been found, but survival looked bleak enough to have all those who had been involved declared dead. She was left alone in the world.

Thus, as befit the social fashion, she forwent her work and tried to think sad thoughts, for she hadn’t known her parents for quite a few years and only dimly recalled either of them. But it was simply not done for a lady to be unaffected by her parents’ deaths, and thus, she was mourning, and would continue to do so until the common time had passed. Even if she had to fake it.

She had, however, taken a minor liberty to describe the problem in just enough detail to possibly elicit sympathy in a note on her door, kindly telling prospective customers and visitors that she was deeply grieved and unavailable.

She lay in her bed, scented candle lit, silk sheets under her, her nightdress, in and of itself a creative work of hers, on, with tissues nearby, a sad book delicately held before her. Her cat, Opal, a fat and spoiled pinnacle of breeding, laid nearby, wondering why Rarity, who almost never went into her room, was now disturbing the cat’s favorite daytime nap spot.

Her doorbell disturbed her bored thoughts, and she paused, before deciding to ignore it. It was not until it kept ringing and ringing such that it implied it would continue until she answered it that she sighed and got up, Opal nigh instantly leaping into the warm depression where she had just been.

She checked that she looked suitably morose in the mirror and disheveled, or rather, just the right kind of disheveled, for she herself wouldn’t be caught dead actually disheveled. Satisfied, she had to remind herself several times to trudge her way downstairs and not to smile at the door, though even said habitual smile was tested as the doorbell kept ringing. Just who was so determined to meet her that they would ignore her tasteful little sign, and be quite so irritating with her doorbell?

Opening the door, Rarity hesitated, seeing no unicorn there. She almost wondered if she was being pranked by some neighborhood colts or something before her gaze went down.

A little white unicorn filly was staring up at her, next to a couple of suitcases. Her mane and tail were purple and pink, and she seemed both sad, and oddly, sympathetic for some reason. There was something dimly familiar about her as well, though Rarity didn’t know why for a few moments.

Then the idea came to her, though it took a few moments and a general assumption that Rarity found reasonably easy to make, considering the filly’s appearance.

This had to be her younger sister, the one whom Rarity had heard about in some of the few letters she had received from her parents. The familial resemblance was there, and the sympathy was obviously because she already knew about their deaths and felt Rarity felt the same sadness she did (which she didn’t, but she at least looked like she did).

The suitcases’ implication was obvious; her parents were gone and Rarity was the only family left, that she knew of at least, and happened to be a fully mature mare. Her heart bled for the filly, and as she desperately tried to recall if she had ever known her name, said, with proper manner containing some sadness, “Come inside, please. I wasn't expecting you, but I’ll get you a drink while you get comfortable.”

“Thank you, Rarity.” the filly said, her voice subdued and sad. She grabbed a suitcase, and as Rarity moved aside, dragged it inside with her before leaving it in the entry and moving to get onto the couch.

Rarity took the other inside as well, and gently shut the door before going to gather a small cup of water which she gave to the filly before sitting next to her, feeling awkward and trying to imagine some way to talk to the filly without letting on that she really didn’t know anything about her.

“I… don’t really remember you.” the filly said after a moment, showing signs of guilt. “My teacher knew you. She’s the one who dropped me off.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” Rarity said, honestly wanting to see her sister not feel so bad and incredibly thankful that she had given her a wonderful way to excuse her own ignorance. “It is perfectly understandable, I mean, we never actually met at all.” Rarity hesitated a moment, and then half-guessed, half-generalized, “Cutie?”

“Sweetie.”

“Sweetie.” Rarity said, nodding. Then she asked, “Are you here to stay?”

Sweetie shook her head, telling her, “Mrs. Gem dropped me off so I could visit. She said she’d come back.”

Rarity nodded, hiding her relief, and glanced at the suitcases before nodding faintly. “So she’ll be back soon?” Rarity asked, guessing that perhaps Mrs. Gem had come by to see Sweetie settled into a boarding school within Dawn’s Light. She even knew one that was well known for taking in children like Sweetie, and Sweetie had likely been placed there so she could at least be near family. Rarity made up her mind to recall to visit every now and then. Maybe during holidays and the like.

“Well, make yourself at home Sweetie.” Rarity said, getting up. “Do try to feel better, darling. Why not go meet Opal, upstairs? Maybe she’ll help you relax.”

Sweetie nodded and headed that way, Rarity watching her go before again glancing at the suitcases. When was Mrs. Gem coming back anyway? Or was the intent for her and Sweetie to get to know each other for a few days and then pick her up to, perhaps, foster a bond between them?

If so, Rarity decided, she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. The idea of having the filly live with her long term was nigh unthinkable; her life and work was far, far too delicate for such a circumstance. But short term, she wouldn’t mind offering some comfort, understanding, and maybe some good life lessons. She had a few days before she could stop ‘being sad’ anyway.

Soon into those musings, the doorbell once more rang, and Rarity perked up. Maybe that was Mrs. Gem, here to pick Sweetie up already.

Rarity went that way and opened it once more, to find herself looking back at Mrs. Gem, who, despite being older, was still the old grey mare Rarity had known so long ago. She’d gotten glasses sometime in the intervening years as well.

“Mrs. Gem.” Rarity greeted, almost smiling before stopping herself (ladies in mourning do not smile), “Sweetie said you’d be dropping by.”

“Hello Rarity.” Mrs. Gems greeted with little warmth. “How is she doing? She was inconsolable for a few days, but she seemed better after hearing about you.”

“She’s not crying.” Rarity said, finding it easier to not smile at Mrs. Gems; she didn’t even ask after her, which was rude. “I only heard the news recently myself.”

“I do apologize.” Mrs. Gem lied, “But Sweetie Belle needed a home, and I couldn’t find any unicorn else who was family.”

“That’s…” Rarity began, before pausing and asking, “She’s staying?”

“Yes.”

Rarity blinked and then thought rather quickly. “But my home is not a place for a, I mean, I’m in no condition to care for a young filly.” she corrected, assuming an expression of weary sorrow.

“I know.” Mrs. Gems said without indicating what she might know. “But I will be nearby to help.”

“…Really?” Rarity asked, pleasantly surprised.

Mrs. Gems nodded, and explained, “I retired and bought a place here just before this happened. I can help Sweetie get used to the city and help you out if you need anything for her. I can even drop by and check up on her every week or so, maybe more if I have to.”

“I’m… honestly touched.” Rarity said, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to be sad and miserable. “I never would have imagined another unicorn to care so much for my little sister. And I never thought any unicorn would think of me to care for a filly, even if she is family. It will be a pleasure to have Sweetie here.”

Mrs. Gem sighed. “In all honesty Rarity… You were my last choice.”

“…I’m sorry?”

“At least two weeks have to pass before I can enroll Sweetie into the Shining Star Boarding School, and every other option for taking care of Sweetie was untenable.”

“…What are you implying?” Rarity asked, frowning faintly.

“Simply put, if Sweetie hadn’t been so distraught, I wouldn’t have come.” Mrs. Gems said. “I would rather have waited a few weeks, so that the Shining Star boarding school would have begun accepting new residents, but Sweetie was so determined to meet you that I was more or less forced to go with her, lest she go by herself.”

Rarity’s mouth hung open as Mrs. Gems spoke, shocked.

“You’re her only family and she wishes to stay with you for the time being. I expect you to do little more than offer her a place to stay and keep her fed, and if anything, given your antics in your youth, I half expect you to somehow fail even that. Hence why I’m going to be cutting into my well-deserved retirement to make sure she’s still alright and ensure you aren’t mistreating her.”

Rarity’s mouth shut with a click, and a firm glint appeared in her eyes as she lifted her head slightly and near glared at Mrs. Gems, who seemed not to care.

“Mrs. Gems.” Rarity began, her voice hard and cold, “I assure you, I am fully capable of caring for a filly, especially my own dearly loved little sister. In fact, I feel capable enough to say that you can have your ‘well deserved’ retirement and never come back to my stoop.”

“I would,”

“If I see you again, you shall find no welcome.” Rarity interrupted. “Leave. I need nothing you could possibly offer me.”

“If you ever do need anything…” Mrs. Gems said, backing away slightly, showing no indication of surprise at Rarity’s reaction. If anything, Rarity half suspected her of doing this on purpose; so she could ditch Sweetie with her, in a socially acceptable manner, instead of disrupting her own life.

“If I was on fire, and you had the bucket, I would sooner burn to ash.” Rarity bluntly said, deciding that, ploy or not, she wasn't going to let Mrs. Gems have anything more to do with her. “Good day, Mrs. Gems.” she finished, and shut the door with rather more force than was strictly necessary.

Rarity huffed, rather upset over the encounter. She had hated Mrs. Gems in her youth and the old grey mare had only gotten worse it seemed. Rarity thought very not nice nor ladylike things about her as she returned into her home, and only stopped doing so when Sweetie, coming down the stairs, having heard the door shut, asked, “Was that Mrs. Gems?”

“Yes.” Rarity told her, “We talked a bit and everything is just fine.” A moment passed before Rarity gave her a small smile, and said, “Welcome to your new home, Sweetie. I am sure we will get along wonderfully.”

Sweetie gained a small smile herself, though she still seemed a bit down yet. “I’m staying here?” she asked, a little depressed yet, but seeming to enjoy the idea.

“Yes. You are.” Rarity confirmed. “Welcome home, Sweetie.”