Beauty Mask

by Gilded Quill

Beauty Mask

Beauty Mask

Fashion: It isn’t a matter of looking your best or being as showy as possible. Fashion is the expression of one’s soul through the fabrics with which the wearer creates. The world of fashion does not need more bells and whistles; it just needs more heads turning towards the unexpected. The unimagined. The bold and the clever. Without these elements, fashion becomes nothing more than a menagerie of senseless gimmicks, where the soul dies within the intense light of the show the tailor creates. Chic, Subtly, Flare, Relativity, Likeability, and Originality. These are the Elements of Fashion.

Fashion is a burning candle; its effect is best when it is mediated and powerful. The flame dies if untreated or selflessly dampened, and its support perishes early if it is exploited too much in too little time. The key to enduring fashion is its purpose and impact; the hidden meaning of a work of art is far more respected than that of its grandiose exterior. And, of course, if the piece does not attract attention, what is the point? The flame may waver, but it will still burn endlessly among the millions of others who strive to become the master. Oh yes; it will always burn, and sometimes it may not need to remain on that candlestick…

The dark outlines of the room dissipated against the pillars of light that showered through the balconies beside me. I was in Canterlot, the most beautiful, regal, and caste-selective city in all of Equestria. More specifically, I was in the Canterlot Castle Ball Room. Everypony who was anypony was there; high-class ponies who appreciated my success. Appreciated my success, and abhorred the procedure. I received mixed messages from everypony; half were positive, half were negative. I stood alone; both my new and old friends were gone in the aftermath, leaving me to bask in their achievements. I gave the appropriate thanks to everypony who contributed, as it would just be greedy to take all of that fame for myself. However, I didn’t get where I was then without a lot of sacrifice. So, do you want the beginning? Do you want everything that led to this moment? I will divulge this information, not like anypony doesn’t know…

A rooster crowed from the trough of Sweet Apple Acres, announcing a new day in Equestria. The shadows of the moon are pierced by the sun as the wall of Celestia’s light creeps quickly over the ground. Canterlot was the first to be enlightened, that fabulous city that sat with stoic pride on the edge of the mountain. It always was abuzz with an aura of magic and royalty, which gave anypony a knot of envy in their bellies. It was the kind of place that a pony like me belonged; somepony with style, prestige, and…to put it simple, friends in high places. It was a land separate from the world below, towering above the valleys and even some smaller mountains with ease. The Everfree Forest sat below Canterlot like a creeping mold on the face of Equestria. No matter how far away anypony got from it, the anarchic and unknown world of the forest would always follow and hang a weight of worry on our backs.

Of course, such things shouldn’t be of concern to those in Canterlot, or even to the fortunate pegasi of Cloudsdale. Even with the magical capital of Equestria towering above the kingdom, Celestia’s eye always looking down at us, it never occurred to anypony that such an eye can also look up. Above the rest of us earth ponies and unicorns were the dedicated fliers and police-ponies of the weather: the pegasi. I envied them greatly; why should a bunch of airheads be above everypony, especially ones like me? They have a sort of arrogance that I called “Pegaswag.” Symptoms include a severe lack of self image, sophistication, and humility. Everypony I know knows what I’m talking about. Or, at least, anypony that does NOT know me (Celestia help them if they don’t) and knows Rainbow Dash can easily agree with me. I never had anything against that poor ruffian, save the incident with Applejack. But of course, she went and broke her wing, then committed petty theft of the Ponyville Hospital. It was almost like karma to me.

However, I believe I am getting ahead of myself, and a little sidetracked at that. Perhaps I should get back to the story at hand. My name is Rarity, founder of Ponyville‘s largest, and growing across the land, fashion boutique. I spent my days alone, toiling away in the sanctity of my workshop. It was my livelihood, even if such actions may have angered Sweetie Belle. Yes, my adorably confused filly of a sister, always wanting me to go playing in the dirt with her friends. I despised it deep down, but I would occasionally satisfy her desires just to get another saddlebag of stones off my back. I would also go out and scout ideas for new fashion designs, finding inspiration anywhere I looked just to meet my fancy. Then, my favorite part of all, I would meet up with MY friends. Oh, where should I begin with them?

Perhaps I should begin where I already began. With Rainbow Dash. The burly pegasus I called my friend. Yes, she certainly was something, with her cyan feathers and rainbow mane. It was any Cloudsdale stylist’s dream to have such a natural born scheme. And it was my dream too. However, I would always find her off ruining the delicate spectrum, either doing intense aerial stunts and blowing too much wind into the stream of color, thereby mixing the colors together into a menagerie of sweat and disorientation, or just being her usual “Pegaswag” self and just not giving a damn who sees her without proper care.

I figure since we’re talking about pegasi, I should warrant the other one in the group, the only one I ever really pitied. Fluttershy, with her dainty, near silent voice and reclusive attitude towards undiscovered things. She was a fair shade of light yellow, a perfect symbol for, what Applejack would call her “yella-bellied” nature. Oh no, of course Applejack didn’t say that to Fluttershy, or to anypony else for that matter. Nopony in their rightful thinking would ever say that; there’s no use making enemies in a peaceful, and yet unsightly cutthroat, place like Ponyville. But then again, she is supposed to be the honest one, right? To continue, Fluttershy has only stood out once for me, but of course, there is always a dark side to such a bright character. She swindled my one big chance with the most notorious photographer in Equestria: Photo Finish. I understood her stand point, but in the long run, apologizing did not aid in getting any closer to Photo Finish; all it did was drive her far away from Ponyville and never return. I guess little Fluttershy’s talents should not have been discovered; she is better off secluding herself in her agonizingly familiar cottage, the only thing she does not fear.

Now to talk about the lowest beings that contributes to my friendship: the earth ponies. Just the name alone making me shutter in disgust; EARTH ponies. Literally, they were beings of the dirt, and nopony was more such than Applejack. Do not get me wrong; honesty is a key factor in high society, but it does not help when everypony can see the results of an untreated day working the acres. She would always walk around with that drab cowpony hat on, a thing that would’ve sold for dirt by Braeburn, even if he really wanted it. I almost could never tell that underneath a film of dirt, dried sweat, and manure was bright orange, vibrant enough to be camouflaged in a summer sunset. I guess anypony could call her a diamond in the rough, but I just considered her to be a walking machine; all rusted and dirty, constantly spitting out the truth in her Western drawl and never breaking out of the protective film of her mind.

While I certainly am one for a soirée, I guess I can commend Pinkie Pie for doing a decent job of that. I will be honest and say her parties were to die for at occasions, but that changed after she had spread her party, like a virus, and involuntarily invaded Fancy Pants’ gathering. It was a grand fiasco, especially after Fancy’s esteemed wife, Fleur De Lis, fainted and fell into a shrubbery that bordered the Canterlot Castle walls. I had to put on a brave face and stand up for the poor foals, lest I be ridiculed by both my “friends” and my high-ranking acquaintances. Since then, I’ve grown less accustomed to Pinkie’s constant chatter of pointless things, and her sporadic nature is too much to be desirable. However, I always did enjoy seeing that hot pink of her mane; it was a scream of everything feminine, and stood out in its own, weird way. Eventually, I’ll be walking in front of the bars of the Canterlot Royal Asylum for the Criminally Insane, and I’ll see that hot pink earth tramp laying there in a jacket.

Finally, I can get to a pony that I can relate to, and actually like. Twilight, that bookworm of a pony, and a student to the high ruler of all of Equestria. There is no better way of saying “I have a friend in high places.” She has a certain “spunk” to her that I can’t really point out. Maybe it’s because of the gravity she gives to every little action and object, which motivated her even more to study. Or perhaps it’s because of her early years in Canterlot that gave her such a sophisticated and mature demeanor. Put both of those together and you, fillies and colts, have the formula for a cakewalk straight to the Princess, and an educated one at that. Not to mention her mane; it had a small spectrum of mystical shades of purple and pink, parting only at the center to make room for her horn. There was nopony else who could match such a dazzling coalition of brains and beauty. At least, not before I finally outsmarted her.

So I bet you are wondering why I prated on and told you about my friends; the subject alone has me snoring as well. The reason is that, for all those that know me, I am the being that was destined to symbolize the generosity in friendship. What you are about to hear, my little ponies, is the story of a generous pony with a desire to give her friends the greatest gift of all, one that could never, ever, EVER be returned or exchanged. This pony gave her friends the secret to immortality.

* * *
Two weeks earlier…

A rooster crowed from the fields of Sweet Apple Acres, and the sun rose at its usual slow pace. Canterlot shined in the sky like a massive amethyst lodged in the side of a mountain, and its aura refracted to every inch of land and cloud. The sun’s rays phased through my translucent curtains and positioned itself directly upon my eyelids. The irritating feeling was too much to bear without moving, and with the turn of a single flank, I fell off of my comfy bed and hit the floor with a loud thud. As I regained my equilibrium, I heard Opal sprinting along the floor, terrified by the sudden noise. I grasped my forehead with a chipped hoof, and stumbled up and out of my silky lavender sheets.

“Ugh, that is NOT how I wanted to awaken on such a fine day.” I said to myself in the mirror, seeing how the delicate curl of my deep purple mane was now a disconcerted clutter. Opal appeared at the door, blocking the exit with her tiny white body, licking the back of one of her front paws. She called me loudly, sounding like a complaint. I had no need for it. “Opal, dear,” I said, trying not to lose my cool any further than I wanted to, “why don’t you go downstairs and wait for me to feed you? This will take only a minute.” I shoved Opal back from the opening, and then slammed the door shut. Opal ran off in a fuss, and I proceeded to put my mane back into it proper shape.

Getting that wonderful curl that I have takes so much dexterity, more than anypony could muster. Most think that I use my magic to hold my hair in place due to its almost impossible shape and inability to be copied. I scoff at those notions because, well, think for a moment. How, or why, would any unicorn want to sustain a spell for so long, even for a noble cause like social image? While anypony of high society would agree with such a bold claim, I must agree with the latter here; Twilight would certainly not approve of such reckless endurance of a spell. Instead, I use…well, why would I confess my beauty secrets? It’s not worth your time, I’m sure.

As I finished putting my mane in its perfect curled shape, I addressed the chip in my hoof. Using my magic, I opened the medicine cabinet that doubled for the mirror and withdrew a metallic file. Its teeth had been worn down from ages of use, and it fit my hooves to a T. This file was a true friend in my book; never breaking down when I needed it most, always waiting for any help I may need, never acted against my whims, and it was both self-reliant and self-sufficient. I never had to squander anything, except the accepted time, for this object. It made me feel in control, powerful even. I was a force of fashion that was destined to be reckoned with, and being the Element of Generosity only opened to how generous I would be in giving my opponents the losses they deserve. Everything is second nature compared to me. I am powerful. I am Rarity…

My pep-talk was interrupted by a scratching at the door that accompanied a medley of mews. Opal disobeyed me. Again. I felt my back teeth starting to clench in frustration and lightly grind against each other. But, I kept my cool once again and, with a controlled scowl on my face, pushed the door down whilst grabbing the rapidly escaping Opalescence. She was certainly fast, even for the spoiled pet she is, but that snow-furred fool knew well that she could not escape my magical grip. Focusing on Opal’s swishing tail, I grabbed her and pulled her back, taking her into the air so she wouldn’t wildly scratch my rugs. The rugs were imported, of course, from an old business friend I had in Fillydelphia, and I refused to have them ruined. Opal clawed at me, but she was at a safe distance away to not scratch me; she didn’t know she was finished. “Now, listen here, Opalescence. When I tell you wait downstairs for me, you WAIT DOWNSTAIRS. You’re lucky I’m such a generous pony, because the next time you do this, and almost destroy my priceless rugs, you’re going without food.” My captive swallowed audibly, and gave me an affirmative meow. I smiled, but I knew I still had to find an appropriate punishment. “So today, you’ll just get half of what you normally get.” She just frowned; I knew my job was done here. I lowered Opal onto the bedroom floor and watched her walk out, a combination of that notorious feline smugness and pity.

Just before leaving my room to feed Opal, I rummaged through a pile of disorganized papers, carelessly shuffling aside the odium of my creative mind. The desk had endless writing implements strewn about its surface, and the fruits of my labor were precariously stacked on the floor and on bookshelves. Most of these ideas were either rejected or pending, and the small percentage that was approved had their own stack. They were a “Hall of Fame” Stack, if you will. And then, or course, there was the matter of getting the freshest ideas in my mind on paper as well. Somewhere in my endless stacks of pending designs, both the tangible and intangible, I would find a true masterpiece. One design, or perhaps a series, that would make the name “Rarity” as important as “Fancy Pants”, “Photo Finish” or “Hoity-Toity”. The taste of elite recognition and pandemic admiration was a sweet sensation that fluttered on the back of my tongue. This was all the inspiration I needed to become famous.

Organizing these ideas took up a large chunk of my morning, to which I neglected Opal’s food once again. I knew I was to blame for being distracted, but I was impressed with her patience and forgiveness. As I began to inquiringly stare at a new sheet of paper, waiting for my inspiration to emerge from my quill and onto the surface, Opal came to mind frequently. Knowing I shouldn’t waste more time on her, I placed a blank parchment down and left the sanctity of my workspace for another time. As I slowly walked down the hallway, a sigh escaped my applied lips. “Perhaps I will find that perfect outfit outside in the sun. It certainly is gorgeous today.” With that thought mentally noted, I descended the semi-circle stairwell into the lobby. To my slight dismay, a line of three ponies had already begun, their faces long and frustrated. With a forged smile and hasty speech, I recited the store’s trademark as a welcome. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique: Where Every Garment is Chic, Unique and Magnifique.” The pony at the front of the line was a tall beige stallion with a spiked blonde mane and a Fedora cutie mark. He wore a black cape around the base of his neck that covered his back, his back hooves and his tail, and a tight gold necklace sparkled on his neck. The only reason I could see his cutie mark was because he parted the cape in the vain hope of me knowing him. I could also see when he parted his cape, a set of tan wings; the leader was apparently a pegasus. He spoke in a pompous and uptight tone, his emerald eyes fixated on me. “Do you have ANY idea how long my colleagues and I have been waiting for you? Did you just forget to flip the sign back yesterday, or is this some form of joke?” Behind the boisterous pegasus stood two other ponies, another stallion and a mare. The stallion was a shade of smoky grey and wore a long white jacket that had the same effect as the head stallion, covering his back and tail. His eyes were covered by opaque red-lens glasses, and his mane was slicked back in a wave of black suave. Unlike his leader, I could not tell what his cutie mark was, but it was evident that he was an earth pony, judging by his couture’s build. I had the same issue identifying the mare. Her skin was a fine cyan, and her eyes were glistening rings of amber. Her blonde mane was in a complicated bun above her head that confused me when I tried to follow its path. Ahead of that mass of entangled hair was a cyan horn, indicating that she was a unicorn. She wore an interesting dress; the collar was a standard shape, but was bright scarlet, completely contradictory to her skin. It folded down into a skintight bond of white which encompassed most of the mare’s body. The white expanse was adorned with patterns of sapphires and opal, the most notable feature being a large hexagon of sapphires surrounding a large opal sphere at the center of the chest. The hoof-ends of the dress ended abruptly, where the white ended with a line that separated itself from her cyan skin. There was an opening on the back of the dress where a luxurious royal blue tail, which appeared to have obviously been dyed, sprouted and curled around her back. While this trio of ponies was an impressive sight, I had never heard of or seen any of them before. The beige pegasus approached me with a scowl and pursued me. “Well, we have been waiting for over a half an hour since the store opened.” I stared back at my pursuant, confused. “What do you mean? I never opened today.” “Is that so?” The stylish stallion retorted. “I saw three little fillies walk out of here about forty minutes ago and saw that the store was open. Care to explain?” I knew exactly the reasoning behind that: Sweetie Belle said she would leave early today with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo to do more “crusading”. One of them must have flipped the sign by mistake. I huffed slightly to myself and ameliorated the situation with the pegasus; his reaction was a mere smirk of vague enjoyment. “Anywho,” I said, changing the subject, “what can I do for you fine ponies today?” The lead stallion speculated me once again and announced, “Judging by your informality, you don’t know who we are. We are rising stars in the fashion industry, much like you. We are Les Outsiders, a trio of up-and-coming tailors that are notorious for the unorthodox. I am the leader, Prêt A. Porter, but you may call me Porter. The stallion behind me is Kitsch. He doesn’t talk much.” Kitsch nodded in a way that said “Hello.” “And the mare beside Kitsch is named Inouï.” Inouï smiled and finished Porter’s sentence. “Together, we are Les Outsiders: Where the Wardrobe is Nouveau and Mystérieux.”

Mixed feelings formed in my brain towards this troupe of fellow tailors. Frankly, I was annoyed by the sheer resemblance of our slogans, but I knew it was best to leave that subject alone, lest I start off on the wrong hoof. Porter appeared to over-exemplify the meaning of stuck-up; when he spoke, he spoke in a way that sounded like he was talking down to you, and he really meant it. There was no hint of equality or brotherhood in his voice; it was just a voice made to trample, and it reeked of “Pegaswag”. I have no hard feelings towards Kitsch; for all I know, Big Macintosh has a wider vocabulary than this suave stallion. It appeared to just be a matter of waiting and watching. The mare Inouï stuck out the most for me. The dress she wore was certainly different than any garment I have ever created, and neither the “Hall of Fame” Stack nor the rejects contained anything of the sort. I also took notice of a series of concealed flaps and zippers that littered her dress in various locations; I counted one on the back of each leg, one on her underbelly, and one that separated the two scarlet flaps on the lapel of her dress. I opened my mouth to ask about Inouï’s dress, but was swiftly walked over by Porter’s voice. “Moving on. We have come in search of new additions to our business. We have scoured the far corners of Equestria in hopes of finding worthy candidates, and during our search in Canterlot; we stumbled across a very interesting sight.” Almost on cue, Kitsch produced a back issue of the Canterlot Weekly from his jacket pocket. Across the front page read: “Shores’ Magical Performance: ‘Zigfilly Follies’ #1 Across Canterlot”. Almost instantly, a blush formed across my face. My run-in with Sapphire Shores was short and distant, and the “Zigfilly Follies” tour ended almost a month ago. I received payment, or course, for the six garments I had to make for her. “You see, our company is very young, too young if I say so myself. We formed nearly a week after the Grand Galloping Gala, when I met my colleagues there.” Porter took a short breath and started again. “It took some time before I could ask Sapphire Shores personally who made the dresses she wore for her performances. She told me the designer was ‘a rising star in Ponyville named Ms. Rarity.’ Hearing this immense achievement, and paired with the fact that you are a unicorn, I assumed that you would want to visit Canterlot during the tour. Sadly, you did not. My next attempt at meeting you was the Gala. I assumed that you would be surrounded by adoring fans for your notorious work. I was wrong once again, and saw you entranced with Prince Blueblood. I made several attempts to get your attention, but I could not interlope with the Prince; getting on royalty’s bad side does not look good in the business world. After meeting Kitsch and Inouï at the Gala, we agreed to settle down in Canterlot and market Les Outsiders. Nearly a month after the Gala, news had reached us about you staying at Princess Celestia’s castle; we were ecstatic to know that you had finally come to Canterlot. However, with the planning for the construction of our boutique, and the exclusiveness of your social appearances, it was impossible to meet you privately. Everywhere you went you were swarmed with ponies; the Wonderbolts Derby, Amicus Curiae’s charity event, even the Canterlot Garden Party. It took some hard work and investment, but we established our boutique just before the Royal Wedding. Business was booming; ponies of all shapes and sizes came to us for our dresses and stylish garments for the wedding. With enough profit, we all agreed on a week-long hiatus so we could come to Ponyville and meet you personally. We arrived just yesterday, and are departing for Canterlot in six days. So, Miss Rarity…” Porter walked closer towards me, spreading his wings in an intimidating fashion, almost threatening me into the answer he wanted, “…do we have a deal?” Backing off, the winged pursuer finally stopped talking, and I let all the information sink in, along with the sheer amount of “Pegaswag” that he emitted.

Porter’s offer almost sounded like an ultimatum; no matter how I answered his partnership, there was going to be a massive amount of change, and not only to Carousel Boutique. The manifestation of Ponyville’s fashion would be on the line; I could make Ponyville the most notorious town in Equestria, putting it high on the list with Canterlot. On the other hoof, I could be defrauded, scammed out of my business, and suffer the hypothetical consequences of my hubris. However, for the time being, I found it amusing to have admirers so devout to fashion. How dare they challenge their inspiration! The mere thought was both flattering and blasphemous; I didn’t know if I should have called the police or not. I ended up not doing so, as I answered Porter’s question. “I would be glad to form an affiliation with Les Outsiders.” Inouï toothy smile was wide, and Kitsch gave a small affirmative nod. Porter’s eyelids drooped a little, and his lips curled up into a grin. It was a puzzling gesture, but it presented the unsettling idea I was supposed to feel.

“Excellent, Ms. Rarity.” The beige smooth-talking pegasus cooed mysteriously, his smile widening to an uncomfortable length. “You can trust the fact that Carousel Boutique will be in safe hands. Now then, is you don’t mind, I would like to see some of your recent designs, particularly th…” “Now hold on!” I interjected, throwing a tended hoof in front of Porter’s face. My soon-to-be partner’s tone was peculiar, and downright shifty. “What business do you have sticking your muzzle in my things? I know you want partnership, but give me my privacy, at the least.” Porter’s eyes narrowed into short green slits, and Kitsch stepped back, a slight twitch in his brow. From beneath his dark cloak, Porter spread his tan wings, which upon closer viewing, contained a nebula of brown feathers as well. The brown splotches on his wings danced as my attacker’s now heavy breath shook his frame. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” he exclaimed, his trampling voice deeper and resonant. With a jump, I started to back away from Porter and his sharp eyes. “I have no interest in stealing your petty ideas! It is for the good of the organization, not the individual! Not me and most certainly, not you!” He stepped forth. I stepped back. “I will not be overshot by a lowly village pony! Do you understand that?!” A loud stomp crashed onto my tiled floor, and the clean sound of a single clatter was all that was heard. Porter’s teeth gritted, waiting, waiting impatiently for my answer. Kitsch shuddered and, finally moving, put a hoof behind Porter’s neck. Eyes wavering, the violent pegasus’ piercing emerald eyes softened to a more tranquil, verdant hue, and he stepped forward with a forgiving hoof. Terrified, I did not lift myself to him; this was a dangerous pony after all. Porter, noticing my neglect, huffed audibly and trotted to the doorway. Inouï approached my hunched appearance and said, with much honey, “There is nothing to fear, darling. Porter is just a little short-fused when he doesn’t get his way.” A weak smile cracked across my face as I stared back at the insightful unicorn. Her cyan face, her arcane blonde bun, and her sunset eyes. I stood up, feeling a small crick in my spine straighten with a silent snap. I gave my thanks to Inouï; if not for her, I may have lost myself to that burly pegasus. Smiling once again, the cyan therapist ushered me to the doorway, where Porter was standing and waiting for me. With newfound courage and understanding, I followed Inouï outside, into a blistering sun, side-by-side with my newest friend.

It was the middle of summer in Ponyville, and the temperature was scheduled to be extra hot today. I felt sweat begin to form along my forehead, dripping from my mane and chin. Darting back inside, past the main room, up the semi-circle stairs, and down the hallway, I pushed the door open to retrieve a sunhat from my rack. Just before I fully opened the door, I heard a shuffling of papers and a pencil landing on the floor. Opening the door ever so slowly, I called inside my supposedly desolate room. “Opal, come now. Why are you messing around with my…” The opening door revealed Kitsch standing by my design table, parchments of old and new designs littering my floor. My teeth clenched. “What, in Celestia’s name, are you doing in my room, Kitsch?” He backed away, keeping silent. I pursued him; I had him in a vulnerable position, and I wasn’t going to let him get away. “Well, are you going to answer me, or am I going to have to report you to the police for invasion of privacy?” No response. Kitsch was hard-pressed on not speaking to me. Running past him, I grabbed the sunhat from a standing hat rack in the corner of the room and walked away. “If you refuse to talk to me, I will have no choice but to contact the police; if anything, all three of you are in on this scheme.” The convict’s eyes contracted behind his glasses, and he opened his grey mouth. His voice was a soft bass, trembling in its own range, and full of bottomless meaning. “You are mistaken, Ms. Rarity. I am only here to stop your cat.” In a flash of white and purple, Opalescence appeared from underneath my design table and dashed for the ajar doorway, all the while producing a steady stream of distraught and frantic meows. Kitsch reached down and grabbed a handful of parchments, which had not been unraveled or damaged. “I heard a ruckus upstairs after Porter left, and I went to check. If I hadn’t stopped her, your sketches may have been ruined.” Kitsch’s eyes lowered to the floor, regret and disappointment swirling behind his scarlet glasses as his hair hung down is a sweep of black gelled misery. I quickly attempted to fix the problem. “No, it’s quite alright. Opal is holding a grudge on me right now. This sounds like something she would do.” Kitsch’s head began to rise from redemption, knowing he may have been saved. “However,” I continued, effectively toppling the support in the earth pony’s neck and confidence, “this does not give you the right to enter my private quarters. You saved my sketches, though, so I won’t lay a charge on you. Just don’t let it happen again.” Kitsch nodded, each nod gradually lifting his head from the floor. “Understood, Ms. Rarity.” I smiled; he was a charm of a stallion. His strong body, stylish clothing, persistence and courage in the face of danger. He was everything I had considered my file, but had one key advantage: Kitsch was a live pony. He was a true companion. He and Inouï. The suited free-pony walked to the doorway and asked if I was coming. Just before leaving the room, I grabbed a piece of parchment from my desk. It was a finished sketch; every finished sketch I had was bound with dark purple ribbon and connected by an insignia made out of cheap, durable material. This insignia was labeled with two “S’s”, both bright blue and engraved in the emblem’s backing. “What’s this design?” Kitsch plainly asked. I smiled again, and said flatly, “It’s the template for the original Shores Dress.”

Upon descending the spiral stairwell, a former criminal close behind me, I discovered Porter waiting by the doorway, inside the lobby now. I approached him with hesitation and asked a question that would be his ultimatum. “So Porter, are you still interested in seeing the Shores Dress design?” Porter’s grassy eyes lit up, and a puzzled look swept across his face. “Well, yes. I’ve been waiting to see it for months.” Even in surprise and thankfulness, he still managed to keep that overbearing tone in his voice. From my saddlebag, I produced the parchment with the Shores Dress design. Still bound by the purple and blue seal, Porter examined the parchment, looking in through the hole in its cylindrical roll inquiringly. “You will have to show me this design in its entirety, perhaps over lunch?” On cue, I felt a subtle rumble in my stomach. I had not eaten all day. “It would be a pleasure.” I replied cordially, knowing that things would be smoother if I just agreed with him. Porter returned the scroll to me, placing it back into my saddlebag. Once again, the door opened to a vicious sunlight where Inouï was waiting for us the whole time. Kitsch turned to face me, and then motioned his head in the direction of the doorway. The Les Outsiders leader walked out by himself, and I followed behind him with Kitsch beside me.

* * *

The sun continued to pound down upon everything in its gaze. The buildings were baking in the sun, and the masses of ponies in town trudged on with the heat on their backs. Stands selling an array of fresh fruits and vegetables stood stalwart along the sides of the street, where eager merchants and consumers exchanged business in the form of food and gold bits. Weather ponies whirred around above our heads as they moved shading clouds across the town, while the rest of the pegasi merely enjoyed speeding through the air. They must want the cool feeling of streaking across the sky to alleviate the scorching heat. Porter kept his head high and his cape covering the rest of his body. Kitsch’s full-body couture had nothing to loosen, but he managed to continue walking at a steady pace regardless of the sweltering heat and his unnecessarily excessive outfit. Inouï had unzipped the four zippers behind her legs, creating four openings for each hoof that extended from the end of the leg to knee-length, and making the legs of her dress billow slightly with each step. Kitsch’s head turned every so often to look at the citizens’ shops and homes, while my light blue savior and beige assailant kept their heads straight ahead, down the increasingly unpleasant street. Finally, Porter turned his head, his gold hair bleached in the sun so much that it flattened a little. “Ms. Rarity, do you know of any decent eateries in town?” With the combination of intense sun and his sudden questioning, I stuttered a little. I almost found myself saying “Sugar Cube Corner”, but knew that such a place would only bring a disaster. Further down the road, the perfect idea caught my attention: the Gidran Café. With a quick turn, I notified Porter. “Hmm…” the tan pegasus pondered, while Kitsch and Inouï stared in agreement. As he pondered this decision, I felt a touch on the back of my neck. I tensed up, and wheeled around, expecting it to be Kitsch. It wasn’t; aside from Kitsch, this pony was not grey. She almost had the same skin color as Inouï, but did not have the same color mane. The pony beamed at me with her slightly piercing magenta eyes. “Hey Rarity! Who are these posh ponies?” It was none other than the queen of “Pegaswag” herself: Rainbow Dash.

Her rainbow mane flickered against the powerful sunlight, and her face was a combination of genuine intrigue and tomboyish indifference. “So, aren’t you gonna tell me who your friends are?” I was silent; with Dash’s attitude, it would repel Porter, Kitsch and Inouï. Even with her upfront and arrogant tone, there would be no way that Porter would accept the multicolor speed demon. I stuttered, trying to divulge as little information as possible. “Well, these are my…” “Work acquaintances.” I was suddenly interrupted by Inouï’s honeyed voice. “We met Rarity this morning to discuss an…affiliation with a Canterlot business.” Inouï conducted herself in a much higher fashion than before. I found it to be quite commendable, but Rainbow Dash did not. “Oh really? So, you think you can steal our friend from us with the click of a hoof? I don’t think so.” Confused by the sudden accusation, Inouï backed away from Rainbow Dash. The spectra-clad pegasus jumped about three feet into the air and opened her light blue wings. Hovering, Dash inched close to Inouï. “I don’t know you, but you’ve got a weird vibe that I can’t shake.” The now amply baffled unicorn continued to back up, hardening her face, the magic from her horn tingling white. “You gonna try that fancy unicorn magic of your’s? Try me!” Dash gritted her teeth, pushing Inouï backwards with her body. Meanwhile, Inouï was magically pulling the sky blue pegasus’s many-hued tail, trying to break free. This fight would only get uglier is somepony didn’t interfere. In the midst of the fight, Porter jumped into the middle of the group, pushing both mares away from each other. Dash’s grip was released, and Inouï’s spell loosened on Dash’s tail. Porter shot a malicious look at the cyan unicorn, who was gasping for breath, then approached Rainbow Dash. “So, a fellow pegasus. I didn’t catch your name before; what is it?” As if the previous fight hadn’t happened, Dash jumped back up, spread her wings, and lifted her bright spectrum of a tail. “I’m the fastest up-and-coming flier in all of Equestria, of course! Rainbow Dash is the name, leaving fillies in the dust is my game!” With brimming arrogance, she flashed a toothy smile to accompany the fire in her magenta eyes. Porter’s face was indifferent, and Inouï scoffed her from behind. “Please, you ruffian. A pegasus of higher class and sophistication is specifically trained in precision and optimal velocity standards. All you do is ‘go fast’; you have no grace.” The bronzed leader turned his neck and retorted, almost defending Rainbow Dash’s honor, to everypony’s surprise. “One more outburst, Ms. Inouï. I dare you.” Inouï remained silent. “Now then,” Porter turned back around to the now grounded up-and-coming flier. “You talk high of yourself as a flier, is that fair to say?” Rainbow Dash displayed a puzzled look, almost like she was given a trick question. “Well, yeah. Anypony with confidence would know that you have to have self-esteem to be successful. What’s point of trying if you don’t think you can?” Porter laughed lightly. “I agree. Well then, if you ever want a…” A devious grin appeared on Rainbow Dash’s face, and Porter quickly amended his unspoken words. “…friendly competition, I would love to see how fast you can fly against me. Perhaps at some other time, yes?” The many-colored pony smiled a little; conversing with Porter appeared to have made her forget about the still frothing Inouï. “Sure, why not? But be ready to put your money where your mouth is…uh, what’s your name?” Porter raised his front left hoof in salutation. “Prêt A. Porter, owner of ‘Les Outsiders’ Boutique, and a known corporate speedster.” Rainbow Dash giggled, which caught me terribly off guard. How was it possible that Porter could disarm that prickling attitude of Rainbow Dash’s so easily? “Alright then, see ya ‘round, Prêt.” With a hearty jump, the queen of “Pegaswag” took off, leaving behind a back draft that rustled Porter’s tight blonde mane.

Inouï rose, dumbfounded and enraged. Her expressions showed how much she wanted to chase after Rainbow Dash. But, much to her dislike, Porter forbade it, lest she suffer the same consequences I almost suffered. “An interesting girl.” Porter decreed plainly. “A little rough around the edges, but I can see the potential in her. She’ll make a great flier. Eventually.” Kitsch, who was behind everypony while this episode occurred, duly nodded in agreement. From this, I could tell who was who in the trio; Porter was the leader, Kitsch was the mysterious one, and Inouï was the rogue. The obviousness of it all was potent, and clearly something worth taking advantage of. After all, I still didn’t trust Porter and his curious eyes. “Now then, Ms. Rarity, shall we?” I was briefly confused, until I turned myself around and remembered our primary destination: the Gidran Café. I smiled quickly, and with reassurance. “Oh yes; now I remember. Follow me.” Porter walked ahead, then fell back to speak with his aggravated assistant about her fight. I was left with Kitsch at the front of the escort.

He turned his head, the black curve of his mane not straying for a second, and the red of his glasses vigorously reflecting the sun. “Nice day, is it not?” Another chill went down my spine, and it was the sound of Kitsch’s voice. “Y-yes.” I stuttered, taken aback by his sudden interest in conversation. “It certainly is.” “I have been thinking,” the grey mannerly pony began, “about this new affiliation, and how it will affect you and your lifestyle.” I felt my left eyebrow rise; why would Kitsch care so much about my life? Or my lifestyle, for that matter? “You saw how Inouï reacted to your friend. Imagine that, but multiplied by the whole of the town.” I stifled a giggle. “Do you find something funny, Ms. Rarity?” “Please, Kitsch,” I retorted softly; there was no sense in having an outburst in public, “just call me Rarity.” Kitsch replied with a kind humph. “And, to answer your speculation, Rainbow Dash is quite possibly the most reactive to a friend leaving. After all, she IS the Element of Loyalty.” There was silence. Kitsch’s jaw dropped and his forehead rose in disbelief. Porter and Inouï ceased their argument momentarily, to which Inouï was the first to ask. “Are you serious? She…” the cyan unicorn pointed to the sky at the nearly indescribable form of Rainbow Dash’s body as it jetted away, “…is the fabled Element of Loyalty? From the Elements of Harmony?” I responded with a firm “yes”. Porter put a hoof to his lower chin, pondering, as he peered back at the multicolored pony before she finally disappeared behind a cloud. “That certainly is something; I knew there was something extraordinary about that pegasus the minute I pried her away from you, Inouï.” Even in his compliments, Porter managed to sneak a blow to Inouï’s pride. “That’s right.” I continued. “I also happen to be the embodiment of one of the Elements of Harmony.” The reaction was different this time. Porter walked ahead and, almost like a museum exhibit, began to circle me, eyeing me closely with those distrusting eyes. Discomfort was the first thing I felt from it all. “Do you mind, Porter? Give a lady some personal space!” Porter backed away with a discerning scowl; he knew not to have an outburst in public as well. “Very well.” The discerning designer swiftly responded. “But you simply must tell me over lunch, perhaps after we take a look at…well, you know.” I could tell he was implying the Shores Dress design. I stared back at Porter; he was demanding more than I wanted to give. “If there is time.” Porter walked ahead, ignoring my minor stand. “Oh, rest assured, Ms. Rarity,” Porter said, “there WILL be time.”

* * *

The Gidran Café sat at the center of Ponyville, east of the town hall and south of my boutique. It was the epicenter of regality, at least in this town. Canterlot, on the other hand, has restaurants like this on every block. It was a beautiful city, but only good in moderation; the ambrosia of its sophistication was infectious and quick to spoil in long doses. This was not the case with the Gidran Café. The stained marble floor was a form of “high rustic” and was a perfect portrayal for the town’s level of redeemable class. On either side of the main dining room was a pillar, both being roughly one hundred feet high, each carved with one of the two Princesses. The entrance of the Gidran Café was marked with the symbol of Polaris; the entrance faced the north. When the four of us walked inside, to the left, the eastern pillar featured Princess Celestia as she raises the sun in the morning. The western pillar depicts Princess Luna, pulling the sun down and raising the moon in the east for the nighttime. Elegantly designed furniture and tasteful decorations extended downwards to the south, and elongated in all directions. The high windows on the east wall always takes in the strongest rays of both the sun and the moon, while the west wall caught the dying wisps of light before the Solar Princess would have the sun or moon overhead. About fifteen of the twenty-five tables in the dining room were seated by other ponies, and six of them were currently being waited on by a team of young looking unicorns. Right now, the east wall was losing some light, and the west wall began to shine through, but only very slightly. It was about 1 P.M. Porter smiled. “Such exquisite architecture. A tinge of low-caste striving, but still very admirable. You don’t find many common buildings like this in Canterlot.” I made a good call.

We were greeted by an elderly male unicorn only a few seconds after walking inside. His wrinkles were practically popping out of his waning periwinkle skin, and his mane was nothing more than a haphazard cap of white hair that left the horn on his head exposed. He wore the employee attire: a white, long-sleeved cover, a scarlet vest with gold, sun-printed buttons, and a pale blue moonflower corsage that would remain closed during the day, and open at night. “Greetings, and welcome to the Gidran Café. Do you have a reservation?” I walked ahead and told the aged stallion that we did not have a reservation. A suppressed stream of profanity escaped his lips as he wrote “Party of four:” into a small notebook he carried in his vest pocket. “Are you the leader of the party?” He pointed to me. I nodded quickly, and watched the elderly unicorn write steadily with his notebook in one hoof, and his pen in a magical grip. Roughly thirty seconds after he asked who the leader of the party was, we were to be escorted to our table by another young unicorn. She looked as if she had not been a mare for very long; her callow face gave her a foal-like appearance. With little hesitation she received her instructions from the older waiter, possibly her boss, and speedily strode towards the table, Porter walking almost as quickly to catch up with her. Slowly, Kitsch and Inouï gained speed to catch up, dragging me with them as we neared the table.

Our table was about fifteen feet away from the eastern pillar of Princess Celestia, and was just out of the sun’s path. I sat with my back to the pillar, facing the western pillar of Princess Luna as it was partially shrouded by a wall of slowly growing light. Porter sat on the opposite end of the table, facing me, while Kitsch sat to my left, Inouï to my right. With lightning speed, the young waiter that took us to our table finished writing down our orders and scurried away. Porter took notice of our temporary solitude, and began. “So, now that that’s out of the way, shall we get down to business?” Once again, on cue, I produced the bound scroll from my saddlebag and unclipped the back of the seal. The ribbon unrolled automatically, as if it were waiting to be undone, and revealed the coveted Shores Dress design. A simple design, as I have considered it; a plain white dress with an open lapel and waving hoof-ends. However, the thing that sets it apart from every other dress is its greedy usage of diamonds, and other precious gemstones. Each Shores dress requires exactly one hundred and forty-eight jewels; the result was exactly eight hundred and eighty-eight jewels that were needed to complete Sapphire’s six dresses. Porter’s dubious eyes glimmered at the graphite jewels on the parchment. “Incredible; it matches Sapphire Shores’ dresses down to the very last blood ruby. This certainly is the real design.” I blushed in appreciation. “Seeing how you managed this project so intuitively, Ms. Rarity,” the now mesmerized pegasus continued, “I am pleased to have created this affiliation with you and Carousel Boutique.” Porter offered a hoof to shake, but this time, I was not afraid to accept his partnership. His friendship, almost. I gazed back at his gradually softening eyes and brandished a wide smile. The stone pillar of Celestia behind me was my witness of generosity, and I knew that she was watching me make this groundbreaking decision, and she was happy for me.

Two hours passed by; we had eaten lunch and spoken more on methods of bettering both of our newly companioned businesses. The sun ticked farther away from me in that time, and began to angle behind Porter’s neck. Four pinot-noir glazed, pepper-and-hay salads later, our plates were taken by another wide-eyed unicorn and taken to the kitchen in the south of the restaurant. I told the Outsiders trio about my Element; the Element of Generosity. A series of dropped jaws followed that statement. I continued with the rest of the Elements, excluding Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy, my other close pegasus friend, was the Element of Kindness. The two earth ponies, Applejack and Pinkie Pie, were the Elements of Honesty and Laughter. Finally, Twilight Sparkle, the Canterlot unicorn that brought me and the rest of my friends together, is the Element of Magic. Porter, Kitsch and Inouï all stared at me, astonished by this new information. I merely grinned in their admiration. Simultaneously, we stood up to leave, after splitting the bill four ways. I walked past the periwinkle unicorn, still at his post, and outside, where the heat was surprisingly less intense. “Ah, what a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.” Porter emerged right behind me, blinking quickly to readjust his eyes, and nodding. “I agree. The food was as good as the décor.” Kitsch and Inouï walked out next, standing together, staring at Porter puzzlingly. “Is there something wrong, you two?” Kitsch shook his head, and Inouï did nothing; being the suspecting leader he was, he just eyed Inouï in scorned warning. “Well then,” Porter turned and faced me again, “so Ms. Rarity…” I stopped him; I should establish a concrete piece of information. “Please Porter, as I told Kitsch, call me Rarity.” “Ah yes. So, Rarity, I want to discuss our first joint project.” “Joint project?” I inquired rather quickly. The beige stallion flashed a small smile, a small patch of lettuce caught in his teeth. “Why, yes. If we want the world to see the coalition of Carousel Boutique and Les Outsiders, we need to create something…” Porter stopped dead in his tracks, dropping his sentence. I turned and saw his emerald eyes sparkling against the waning sun. Kitsch and Inouï stopped behind Porter and waited. “…spectacular.”

“Spectacular?” I questioned him, still in his queer state of self-amazement. “Yes! I can see it!” Porter exclaimed; a small group of wandering ponies was gathering in a circle around the two of us. “I see a design never conceived by the common designer. A design. Nay, a series!” Porter was working himself up to a sweat, which did very little to show on his outfit. The small wandering group soon became a crowd of about thirty ponies, all eager to listen to Porter’s idea. “A series based around the Elements of Harmony; six stunning outfits that will capture the essence of your friends and wow all of Equestria! Your names and legacies will be remembered for thousands of years!” The now inexplicably large crowd of ponies was stomping with elation and a dozen or so ponies were staring at me with longing hope. I felt a blush form across my face; how could I pass up an opportunity like this? An opportunity to revolutionize the fashion industry with legend, and with a slew of rumors already being spread? And my friends; there would be no greater gift for me to give them than to have their names immortalized in the fashion world. It was not only my social duty, but my duty as a citizen of Ponyville. A citizen of Equestria. My duty as the Element of Generosity.

I stood beside my partner, and emcee, inside the circle of antsy ponies and delivered the final verdict of his declaration. “I would be honored to lead in the production of these dresses, and to create a clothing series unlike anything the world has ever seen! Six dresses, six Elements. They will be known as: ‘A Friendship Eternal!’” Another loud parade of stomping accompanied my words. Porter stared back at me in delight with those shimmering eyes of his. I certainly had grown accustomed this peculiar stallion and his unorthodox ways. Kitsch was a lot more sensitive than I was previously led to believe, and Inouï was a bit of a stickler at times, but mostly kind-hearted. No matter how many times I encounter each pony, there is a change of behavior. I can never accurately place each pony in a psychological niche; I guess their collective attitude is simply to be this adaptive. Porter obliged my name choice. “‘A Friendship Eternal’? I love it! Rarity, my dear, with the four of us at work on this series, you and your friends will be known by their names for millennia to come!” That familiar taste on the back of my tongue was back; this was what I was looking for all this time. This was the recognition I was looking for, and with a chance to give my friends the greatest gift a fashion designer can possibly conceive. Porter and I walked out of the frenzied circle as the masses were still applauding our departure.

* * *

“Quite a show I managed to put up back there.” Porter relished in his success, still emanating that “Pegaswag” he has been maintaining. “Well now I’ve gotten all of Ponyville riled up in the second day we’ve been here. And we have…” Porter took a minute to remember. Kitsch spoke up once again, his low resonating voice shaking the air. “The rest of today, and five days following.” “Yes. Thank you Kitsch.” The smoky earth pony did not respond, but Porter continued anyway. “So Rarity, we need to discuss how we will be putting these dresses together. I was thinking bright amethysts to symbolize the otherworldly and inexplicable bonds of destiny, followed by something to tie together friendship into that. The possibilities are just endless! I can start by…” Porter stopped and noticed that I was not listening. “Rarity!” I turned and responded nonchalantly, “With all due respect, Porter, that will just not due for what I have in mind.” Shocked, the pegasus recoiled, and Inouï’s eye twitched in frustration and shock. “I think it would be best if you met them first. After all, you are taking up a project about MY friends. It would be best if you stu…” I shut my mouth; I almost found myself saying “study”. “…got to know my friends before jumping to conclusions.”

Everypony held their breath; talking back to Porter was one thing, talking down about his ideas was a completely different thing. It was already evident that Porter was a stickler for keeping his honor and reputation fair in the eyes of everypony he knew. Kitsch was shaking his head behind Porter, obviously trying to tell me to abort my endeavor. Reluctantly, I obliged, and kept my mouth shut afterwards. Awaiting Porter’s response was an eternal ordeal that only lasted a few seconds. Finally, our anathema of punishment decreed softly, “That is a good point.” Raising his voice to a reasonable level, he resumed, “Very well. We will all need to meet, and possibly interview, each pony. When we are finished, we will need to start immediately. That is,” Porter ushered my gaze to the royal city, still in sight as it sat against the mountain, “unless you feel like making an extended business trip to Canterlot. We’ve been gone for so long; the usual crowd won’t be happy if we were gone for TWO weeks.” I shook my head. “Oh no. I would be fine with making a trip to Canterlot if needed. After all, I would only want the best for my friends.” In my mind, I could imagine “fame” replacing “friends” already. They were easily interchangeable, but that sweet sensation of longing was a gorgeous virus that infected me with its lustful deception. I did not have to lie: I liked it.

Still walking down the beaten dirt road, the sun continued to trickle down into the western air, over the looming Everfree Forest. The clock was ticking. Within the time that it would take to get back to my abode, along with potential interviews, we would only have time for one. Informing Porter, I directed his attention to the homes of one pony. It sat in the middle of town and was casting an aura of concealed mystery. The mysteries of magic and of the physical world were unraveled within its depths, a rhythmic process wrapped by an enigmatic mind. Stalwart and proud, a hollowed tree towered in its place, where the essence of incomprehensibility was potent. Approaching it, with each hoof-step, that essence became more and more evident. At the same time, that sensation of success became more powerful. This first step towards my ultimate project was the most emotional. Success. Mystery. Mysterious success. Successful mystery. A mystery wrapped in my success. A mystery begotten in my success. The two entities embraced and merged inside my mind as I knocked on the wooden door. Finally, the bowels of this wonderfully bizarre place were released as the door creaked open rather quickly. This essence of power, this being of mystery, this enigma, came in the form of a light purple unicorn. Her horn emerged from between the creases of her interchanging colored mane; the purple spectra glided to each side of her head, brightening and darkening. She conducted herself as an intellectual, and spoke as such. “Oh! Hello Rarity. How can I help you?” I turned to see Porter with a devious smile on his face. I answered, “Hello, Twilight. I wanted to talk to you about something really important.” Twilight took her head aback, but replied cordially, “Of course; come in.” The four of us walked inside as the ecstatic taste of power filled my being entirely.

Surrounding the room was a medley of books and scrolls, big and small, to and from friends, and scrolls from the Princess herself. A wooden pedestal sat by the window as a small ray of sunlight peered inside and illuminated an unfinished message, and a container of ink holding a grey quill sat up front. Stacks upon stacks of books were to the right of the pedestal and spewed a maelstrom of unrelated information. From the staircase that encircled the wall descended Twilight’s adorable assistant Spike. Being a dragon, his purple scaled body descended with a hobbled walk as his short tail dragged behind. The light green hue of his lizard-like eyes matched those of Porter’s, and his emerald back scales that ran down his spine were of a darker shade. In his arms rested two large books, possibly reference because of their immense sizes. “Good job Spike. Just put those over in the Mythology section for me. I’ll get to them after I’m done with ‘The Brumbian Schism.’” Spike, struggling with the heavy books in his clawed hands, released a staggered “Okay” and walked into a smaller candlelit room.

“Now then, Rarity, what is it you wanted that was really important? Need a book? Have a friendship problem I can report to the Princess?” As Twilight questioned me, her horn glowed with that potent magenta aura, and the pedestal appeared at her side, parchment and all. As she held the grey quill with her magical grip, I answered, “Actually, I want to discuss a fashion project that I’m taking up with these Canterlot designers.” With an ushering hoof, I pointed to the Les Outsiders trio. Twilight stared at them, more specifically Inouï. Inouï just stared back, puzzled, but intrigued. “So your name is Twilight? My name is Inouï. I am glad to meet you.” The brainy unicorn smiled in salutation. “These are my business partne…” “Inouï, allow me.” Being the striving leader he was, Porter stopped Inouï in her tracks and continued. “My name is Prêt A. Porter, the CEO of ‘Les Outsiders’ Boutique in Canterlot. Charmed.” Porter, like Rainbow Dash, raised his hoof to shake. Twilight obliged his shake, and listened as he continued. “You friend Rarity has told me much about you, and how you were raised in Canterlot as well.” Twilight verified his statement, and went on to tell Porter that she was a student of the Princess. Kitsch gasped rather audibly, but sat back quietly as the conversation resumed. “I certainly am impressed. A student of the Princess and the fabled Element of Magic? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, considering how smart you must be. After all, you live in a library.” Once again, Porter managed to work his “Pegaswag” in a way that made another one of my friends blush. “Well yes; I have been told that I am an intelligent pony.” “I’m glad to hear that. Now then,” The snake-tongued stallion said, getting back to the topic at hand, “we have come to talk about this project that Rarity and I are leading. We are going to create a series based on the Elements of Harmony, and we need to interview all six of the Elements in order to get their, how you say, ‘spirits’ into the dresses.” Almost instantly, Twilight’s eyes sparkled with surprise. “Really? What a fantastic idea! And what a great way to draw attention; everypony knows about the Elements of Harmony, and with your ingenious style of fashion, they could become national icons.” I blushed as well; Twilight was speaking what I was thinking at this point. “So, of course I’ll take this interview!” The excited purple unicorn chirped. Inouï spoke up again. “Excellent. I’ll interview her for you, Porter; it’s better if it’s mare-to-mare. I hope you’re okay with this going for a while.” Porter and Kitsch both agreed immediately, and Inouï ushered Twilight up the stairs for the interview. I tried to follow Inouï, but told me that she wanted it to be just the two of them. Apparently, her reasoning was that she could connect with her Canterlot roots easier than I could. It was balderdash, but for some odd reason, Twilight agreed to let only this smooth-talker of a mare interview her. I was angry by their decision, but resented it. Porter, Kitsch and I sat in the main room of Twilight’s home while Inouï was upstairs, interviewing my friend. MY friend; it was a pain.

Porter sighed in impatience as Inouï went for over two hours. The sun was almost completely covered by the Everfree Forest’s canopy, and the moon began to rise in its place. Kitsch had done absolutely nothing for the majority of our time here; he stood behind everypony, studying his surroundings, and remained silent. I groaned, tapping my hoof on the ground, waiting. The only sounds in the house were the ticking of a wall clock and Spike’s grumbling as he executed the upkeep of the house. Porter whispered something to Kitsch, something that I could not make out; it could have been instructions or something that I had no business finding out. Either way, Kitsch stood up and asked Spike where the bathroom was. With a simple point of his claw, Spike directed Kitsch out of the main room and into the darker room from before. When Kitsch was out of sight, Porter turned to me. “Rarity?” My neck snapped around. “I need to know: Do you understand the gravity of this project?” An eyebrow raised on my forehead. “Why, of course. Why wouldn’t I know how important this project was? After all, it is the Elements of Harmony we are portraying. There are very few things that are more important.” “Yes, I agree.” Porter replied blandly. “You see, Rarity, this project requires every aspect of elementary and advanced fashion sciences. You know what I’m referring to, right?” I nodded; why wouldn’t I know about the Elements of Fashion? “The Elements of Fashion; common knowledge for any designer.” Porter told me I was correct. “Yes, the six Elements of Fashion. Chic: to express the pure essence of style.” I chimed in, continuing the lineup. “Subtly: to give the audience the chance to discover the deeper meaning and appreciate its minimalism.” “Flare: to give the audience a unique design that is memorable and zesty.” “Relativity: to give the design a personal connection to the audience.” “Likeability: to give the audience a design that is attractive for its being.” “And finally, Originality: to give the audience something completely new.” Porter and I ran through the sextet of fashion laws with ease, and they were revived inside my head. “Now you understand? We need to contain all six of these aspects into the series. Only then will these six dresses appeal to everypony, both the fashion-savvy and the common folk.”

A nostalgic wave of emotion flooded my body as my beige colleague concluded. His entrancing green eyes repeated those six aspects as they shot those words back into me. Chic. Subtly. Flare. Relativity. Likeability. Originality. Porter smiled and looked away, cutting off the stylist’s life support from my light azure eyes. “Inouï should be finished soon…” Chic. “…the interview should no…” Subtly. “…light Sparkle certainly…” Flare. “…pet dragon? Never heard…” Relativity. “…Elements of Harmony…” Likeability. “…A Friendship Eternal!”

I tuned everything out; my dreamlike state of euphoria filled the ears and shielded against Porter’s monologue. He was right; this project required only the best, and only the best for my friends. A project such as this only came around once in a thousand years, and I would make it the thing that I would die for, by, and beside. There was nothing in all of Equestria that would stray me from this desire. Nothing that could make me feel more powerful, more famous, more egregious, and less of a passerby. Everything is second nature compared to me. I am powerful. I am Rarity.

I was once again interrupted by a soft clopping and soft conversation in the other room. I could easily pick out Kitsch’s voice, as well as the callow voice of Twilight’s draconic assistant. “I see. So Spike, it is possible for an earth pony to enter Cloudsdale? Fascinating.” The squat dragon Spike came into view first, followed by the scarlet glint of Kitsch’s glasses. “Ah, Porter. I was just talking to Spike about the benefits of a Cloudsdale division.” I was the first to speak up. “A Cloudsdale division? Kitsch, we haven’t even gotten a second division here in Ponyville off the ground. Plus, we have a project that needs focusing on. This matter can be resolved at a later time.” The grey pony backed up, and I could feel his face tense up in surprise. Stares were all directed to me; why was that? I was only saying what everypony was thinking. My point was barren; nopony spoke up for me, not even Inouï and Twilight as they continued the interview upstairs. However, one pony finally replied. “I agree.” said the tan pegasus beside me. “While it sounds like a great business decision, this is neither the time nor place for it. Write it down in the archives when we return to Canterlot, at least.” Kitsch nodded with repentance and resentment. I made my point, and I’m glad that Porter was able to stand up for it. The brown pegasus signaled Spike and told him to bring Inouï and Twilight downstairs. With a hasty nod, the purple dragon waddled up the wooden stairs and returned with the two Canterlot unicorns.

Inouï descended the stairs, an easily visible smile painted across her neon-blue face. Twilight bore the same expression as she carried a small notepad in a magic cocoon, bursting with scribbled notes. Inouï walked beside Twilight and giggled. “You are a delight; truly a Canterlot-bred unicorn.” Porter rose from his seat and took the notepad from Twilight, reading diligently. “Hmm…yes…oh!…very interesting. Inouï, wonderful job on this.” A red blush popped out across the cyan mare’s face. “And thank you, Miss Sparkle, for your cooperation.” That same blush, once again. No matter how many times I saw it, I was confused as to how Porter consistently worked people’s emotions. “I’m glad that you could interview me on such short notice.” Twilight said. “If you’d like, I can give you the rest of my friends’ addresses. I’m sure they won’t want to be interviewed at this late hour, but I know they’re all open tomorrow.” Kitsch’s eyebrow rose, and Porter looked to me for an answer this time. I quickly retorted, “Thank you, Twilight. But I can show these three around Ponyville. We can split up and talk to everypony at once. Better to do that so we have more time to work.” Another void of silence. The only answer I managed to receive was Porter as he gave me a small nod. Everypony obliged, as the tan pegasus made his way for the door, gracefully thanking Twilight once again. The purple unicorn was more than delighted to have us, and it was not long before I was the last one out. Once again I looked back, to Twilight Sparkle waving me off, and to Spike as he gazed at me dumbly, and with desire.

The moon was hanging high in the air; it was as gorgeous a night as it was a day. Torches flickered every twenty of so feet away from each other, either stuck in the ground or in holders on cornered houses. Everypony was inside, in their beds and asleep, except us. Porter strode ahead of the rest of us, beaming aimlessly at everything in sight. “Ah Luna, what a beautiful night.” I smiled once again and chimed in. “It has everything we ever wanted. The menagerie of dark colors contrasting the fire of the torches shows chic and flare.” Albeit the literal meaning, the beige stallion caught up to my ideas. “Yes. And the similarity of those dark colors acts as a cover for hidden gems. That is subtly at its finest.” I laughed aloud in joy; I was having fun with Porter and his wise observations. I sensed déjà vu in this scenario, but I did not care. Once again, Kitsch and Inouï were behind us and talking almost inaudibly. Looking around in the same uncertainty as Porter, I continued to make remarks. “And, of course, it is the night. It appeals and affects everypony, highlighting the relativity and likeability.” The stallion nodded, his emerald eyes following his head’s path. They were rings of emerald that bobbed up and down in affirmation. “And finally,” Porter built the conclusion, “there is no night that is the same as any other, so I would call that a perfect example of originality.” All I could do was slowly, but surely, follow his words. “Yes, I agree.”

It was at that moment, that repetition of common style codes, which made me realize the greatness that Porter was. He was an original person; he was unorthodox. Nopony could ever doubt that Porter was an individual, and a charming one at that. Porter knew how to take me under his influence, which he did with his suave speech and hypnotic green eyes. I looked down at my hooves, and was briefly reminded of my file. Porter has become that living file; a perfect friend and work accomplice. I looked back as Kitsch and Inouï continued to make casually silent conversation together. Kitsch was sweet, but too silent and easily distracted. Inouï emitted a vibe that was pushing me farther away from my friends, especially Twilight. And of course, there was her fiery temper. They were useful, yes, but not permanent. I will do what I can with their talents, and then I’ll move in and take what is mine. Of course, I will need to leave their cut, and I will. I always do; I am the Element of Generosity, after all.

The four of us reached my boutique within the nightly hour. At that point, it was time to decide how we will split up. “We have already interviewed Twilight; there are four of us, and five more ponies to see. So, who should see who?” Kitsch put a hoof to his chin, thinking. But Porter already knew who he wanted to see. “I would like to interview that Rainbow Dash mare. She was a marvel to me, and I promised her a flying race, so…” Kitsch and Inouï nodded, understanding perfectly. I counted the numbers in my head, informing that there was still Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy. Inouï, disappointed that there were no more unicorns to interview, reluctantly chose the next best thing: Fluttershy. The grey earth pony pondered for a moment, making Porter and Inouï impatient. Kitsch had to choose either the orange farmer or the pink party planner. There was the risk of Kitsch’s white couture getting dirty on Sweet Apple Acres, and the risk of being mentally maimed by Pinkie Pie was another story. A mental debate concluded with Kitsch very quietly saying, “I’ll take Applejack then.” “Good.” I answered quickly and loudly. “Then I will interview Pinkie Pie. When we finish, we can all meet back at my boutique to exchange the information and start planning.” Porter said that the plan was excellent. “Right then. The three of us will retire to the Andravida Hotel. Goodnight, Rarity.” I kneeled slightly and blinked, replying, “And goodnight to you three as well.” Porter turned his back and trotted down the road, Kitsch and Inouï following close behind. With a sigh, I pushed Carousel Boutique’s doors open and turned on a light.

The lobby exploded with light, refracting off the millions of crystals and gems that littered the room. I heard a groan, followed by a screeching meow, and then a steady stream of clops. Sweetie Belle walked down the stairs with Opal, two white beings that threw off my readjustment to the light. Sweetie Belle’s mane was in its iconic curl, much like mine, but was out of place in multiple places. “Ugh. Rarity? What are you doing?” My little sister cooed in annoyance. “Oh, Sweetie Belle. I was out with some new work friends.” The phrase “work friends” made Opal hiss. “Yes. I am now affiliating with a business from Canterlot, and a successful business at that.” Sweetie Belle smiled with fake pride. “That’s nice, but it’s really late. Tell me more about it tomorrow, okay?” A heavy sigh followed her question as she and Opal ascended the spiral staircase. A frown formed on my face, but I discerned it and followed Sweetie Belle up the stairs and into my bed. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted from today’s events, and ready for tomorrow.

* * *

That night, I had a dream. A weird dream. I was, once again, facing Porter as he spoke to me. His eyes transmuted from those gorgeous rings of grass to alternating rings of blue and gold. They were the same colors as Inouï’s mane and tail. It was obvious what was going on: I was being hypnotized. “You must remember that every aspect must be present.” My vision blurred, and the tan stallion’s face disappeared into a fizz of psychic chaos. Almost instantly, I was introduced to a new sight as it was constructed around me. Serpents of marble slithered and weaved around each other, forming towering pillars. Immense rectangles of indescribable matter rose and formed steps from the ground-like plane. The plane itself began to smooth and form tiny patterns, intricate and spreading like vines. I could tell that, it too, was marble. Directly in front of me formed a large sphere, lustrous and yellow, hollowing out and forming an astrolabe, and within that astrolabe was a thick rotating ring. Slowly, that ring began to split apart, some of the rings shrinking and forming more and more interior rotations. The final ring, in the very center, compressed into a dense ball that bore unreadable inscriptions. My head spun; I was confused by how this had anything to do with the manifestation of chic. All at once the rings stopped, and an arrow shot from the middle of the central ball. I recognized this structure. In front of it was a golden plaque that read, “The Equestrian Astrolabe.”

This astrolabe was a legendary artifact; it was the scale model of the very astrolabe brought by the unicorns that we portray in the Hearth’s Warming Eve celebrations. It sat in the Canterlot Castle Ball Room, and has remained there for several millennia. From there, the Astrolabe’s rings rotated slowly, and six mannequins on sticks emerged from beneath the viscous floor. They rose one foot into the air. Two feet. Three. Four. Finally, at five feet, the mannequins stopped at their vertical crest, each one facing outwards from the Astrolabe, and a circle surrounding the Astrolabe was indented in the ground and connected each stuffed body. White magic tingled from each stuffed body, and from the frontward body bled fabrics. Flowing and folding, cutting and curling, the fabrics changed colors and patterns, weaved into intricate patterns, even materialized into sparkling gemstones of all kind. Before my eyes was a beautiful lavender dress, professionally tailored by my dreaming psyche. Waving lines of white pulsed from the dress’s lapel, and from there a midnight purple scarf and cape embraced the mannequin’s neck. Each hoof end was garnished with gleaming blood rubies and diamonds, shining as if they were blessed with Celestia’s light. The light purple dress extended to the end of the mannequin’s body and curled up, changing from a soothing hue to a violent contrast of diamond silver. The steel-colored fabric split once more into sabers and curled down, drooping onto the floor in a majestic trail of metal and violet. The chest morphed from a plane of lilac to a silver triangle, and within that triangle was a crude blue gemstone. From there, the circle connecting each mannequin rotated quickly, moving to the next pedestal. As I expected another dress to form before me, I inched forward in anticipation. The dress did not form, and instead that silver triangle built itself on the fake pony’s torso. This time, a six-pointed star was inside the metallic plane, and it was glowing a bright purple. The circle rotated four more times, each one giving a different symbol. A heart-shaped object with a vertical line sticking out of the top, then a trapezoid with one extending side, then a pair of mirrored triangles connected to a visible line of symmetry, finally ending with an oval emitting a trio of zigzagging lines. Other than the first mannequin, no other body wore a dress, but had a symbol. “I…I don’t understand. What does this have to do with anything?” My question fell on deaf ears. The only reply was another quick spin from the circle, where I face the dressed mannequin once again.

A whirr of Canterlot mechanisms began to lower the sextet of symbolized ponies, all of which disappeared below the circular machine. All, except for the dressed mannequin. I approached it, at it was eye-level to me now. “Um…hello?” The mannequin’s face contorted and shifted, building a black mask around the face. Much like the mannequins’ symbols, the six triangles were arranged around the center of the mask, each one bearing one of the six symbols. Eyeholes opened, a muzzle cracked apart, and a hole appeared over the forehead; it was the hole of a unicorn’s horn. I was curious, and a little scared; I reached my right hoof ahead to touch the mask. I kept moving slower and slower towards the mannequin, and when I was a hay-width from its face, my already bizarre fashion dream became a nightmare.

With lightning speed, the mannequin gracefully leapt from the vertical pole attached to its underbelly. I followed its path as it jumped over my head, just barely clearing my hair, and landing behind me. One of the fake pony’s silver dress extensions slapped my face upon its descent, actually creating a small cut; the fabric was thicker than I thought. Newfound life coursing through its frame, the mannequin turned and faced me. It had no facial features, and the only thing on its face was that grim mask. I spoke up again. “What do you want? What are you doing? Why am I here?” The mannequin did not respond. “Come now, can’t you communicate in any way? Sign language? Writing?” No response. The mannequin just turned away from me and began walking towards the Ball Room windows. I followed it, trying to comprehend everything around me. As I walked, the rest of the Ball Room materialized around the two of us; pillars rebuilt, the floor stretched ahead, and small regal patterns snaked into the marble décor. Three large glass windows sat in front of it all, where the costumed mannequin was heading. When we arrived, the mannequin finally turned its head to me and gave me a signal of communication: a nod in the window’s direction. Following the orders, I looked through the Ball Room windows. Both of our reflections were standing against a pale, egg shell white background. But something was strange; the reflections were in the opposite order. My reflection was mirrored by the mannequin, and vice versa. Once more the fake pony turned, the intricate features of its dress flashing, and motioned its head towards the windows. It was confusing to me. “Why did you bring me here? I demand you give me answers!”

The mannequin’s neck snapped around and faced me. The thin beige fiber holding its skin together pulled apart, revealing a row of sharp teeth. Its mouth opened and, teeth shining, released a loud roar. I jumped back, terrified, and yelled, “What, in Celestia’s name, are you?!” The mannequin approached me, slowly, those razor teeth hanging out of its mouth. It did not speak, and just kept walking in my direction. Finally, it charged at me, the silver bars tailing behind its dress flapping wildly. I had to act fast in order to survive; I needed to use my magic against it. In a quick whip, I flipped my mane back and revealed my white horn, charging the cerulean magic within. I clenched the flapping gray extensions behind the mannequin’s dress, and a sense of familiarity filled my mind. Grabbing this psychotic mannequin’s dress was like grabbing Opalescence’s tail in every way. The crazy doll stopped momentarily, but struggled much harder than I had expected. The only sounds in this off-white limbo were the tingling of magic, the insane roaring of the mannequin, and the tearing of fabric. With a firm tug, the silver strips behind the amazing dress ripped apart, and my magical grip was broken. The mannequin did not stop charging at me as it yelled through that bleak mask. The six symbols on its face were glowing vibrantly in six different colors; red, orange, yellow, blue, purple, and pink. With a final leap, the mannequin pinned me to the marble floor, screaming at me. I was screaming too, but in peril. “Get off of me, you beast!” “Now why would I do that?” My eyes shot open; “You…spoke?!” “Well of course I can speak! And who are you calling a beast?” I looked up and, unbelievably, the mannequin’s face was no longer there. It was a snow white face behind that black mask. The once empty hole over the forehead was occupied by a horn. A lavender mane swept out from behind the mask’s encompassing material. A curly tail sprouted from underneath the ripped ends of the dress. It was no longer a blank doll’s face behind that mask. It was me behind that mask.

“W-What the buck are you?” was all I could muster as I stared into the mirrored image of the animated mannequin. “I am you.” My clone’s voice was distorted and gurgling, sinister in its own pitch. “I am you, but not then.” My head tilted to the side in frustration. “What do you mean ‘not then’?” A choking laugh was my only reply. Following that disgusting laughter was my true answer as the clone said, “Not then, the future.” My teeth clenched. “The future?” A nod. “Yes, my past future. A future that would be your…I mean, MY future. But it is the past now, and this is the present, with a glimpse of the future.” The living mannequin giggled and bounced around. It was unsettling to see a creature taking so much joy in torturing me mentally. I looked at its smiling face, and noticed that one symbol glowed above the rest: the pink. Could those symbols be…? “Hey! Hey, um, me?” The mannequin turned and, still in that garbled voice, said with a sing-song voice, “Yes?” “What are these symbols on your…MY mask?” The mannequin smiled even larger. “Oh these! You don’t know it yet, but these symbols are…” Suddenly my clone’s neck snapped around and back again, but this time the red symbol glowed above the rest. “I ain’t tellin’ you anything! This is confidential information that doesn’t need you butting in, got it?” I backed up once more. “Yes, I understand. But I just don’t understand how…” Another vicious snap, followed by the red symbol darkening and fading into the black field of the mask. The blue diamond lit up on the mask and sat just below the horn. “So, Rarity, you wanted to know who I am, correct? Because I can tell you this: I’m everything that you ever wanted to be.” I raised my eyebrow and asked, “What do you mean?” “Oh shut up!” The clone retorted. “You know what I mean. The lust for fame. The persistence for power. All that created me. I am the manifestation of your Element as you have shaped it.” The living mannequin stepped forward. “Your greediness to be generous cancels within itself, and makes a different pony out of you. Or rather…me.” Another step forward. “It changes one’s appearance, one’s personality, one’s life; it is a shield, mentally separating one from the rest of the world.” One last step. “It coats you like a mask until, finally, you are a completely different pony, walking around in your old identity’s skin!”

With all my heart, I shut my eyes and screamed in confused terror. Nothing made sense anymore in this dream world. I felt tears roll down the sides of my face as I curled into a helpless position, insanity creeping over my shoulder. “W-Why am I wearing that mask? How is t-that possible?” Eventually, the universe around me crumbled into dust, all but my clone, still standing over me in its torn dress and staring at me with its awful disguised face. It inched down as the dematerialization reached its hooves and airily said, “Do not listen to the peasants. They will lead to your downfall.” The tail and back of the dress were disappearing. “Do not…” The chest went next. “…will lead to…” The neck. “…your DOWNFALL.” Enunciating every little bit of the word, my clone dissipated into the white nether. I remained in that position for an eternity, taking every single word to heart. “Do not listen to the peasants. They will lead to my downfall.” I repeated the phrase over and over. Halfway through a run-through, something lightly touched my side. It tickled, and I swatted at it; I was answered with another poke. There was nothing there, but I was being poked. Suddenly, a loud voice shook that world around me to the verge of utter destruction. “Rarity, wake up!” With a start, I jumped from my dream self’s curled position, and was propelled back into the realm of reality.

My little sister stood beside my bed, eyeing me nervously. “Um, sis, are you alright? You’re all sweaty…” Another poke in the side. One quick rejecting hoof stopped my sister as I emerged from my bed sheets. “Oh, it’s nothing, Sweetie Belle.” I said calmly. “Just a…really weird dream.” Exaggeration traced my reply. “Oh! Like that one where everypony had thread spools for heads?” Sweetie Belle cracked up when I told her that dream, even though it was over a month ago. That’s what happens when I attempt going all night to finish an order. “Yeah, you could say that.” I replied nervously. “Sweetie Belle, I need to leave early today to meet up with those business ponies I told you about last night. Can you feed Opal for me?” Sweetie Belle sighed, but nodded at the same time. “Thank you, little sis!” I ran into the bathroom, swiftly reforming my mane into its usual shape. Ten minutes of freshening up later, I was out the door en route to the Andravida Hotel.

* * *

The image of that bizarre doppelganger swirled in my mind as I walked through the town. Its strikingly similar appearance, its luxurious dress, that black mask; they all kept popping back into my mind no matter how much I tried to ignore it. “Just pull yourself together, Rarity.” I told myself. “It was just one of your fashion-based nightmares, nothing more. Still…” The living mannequin’s demonic chant echoed in my ears as I repeated it under my breath. “‘Do not listen to the peasants. They will lead to your downfall.’ What could she have meant by that?” I shrugged; there was no sense in ruining my day because of a little night terror. I had work to do. “Well, at least one good thing came from that dream: I have a design for my dress in the series.”

After walking over one more hill, the Andravida Hotel was in sight. It was a three story building with a countryside theme, and sat on the outskirts of Ponyville. It was not as upper-crust as the Gidran Café, but it was still a highly recommended spot for anypony who needed a place to stay for a few nights. I strode ahead and walked in through the sycamore doors, and was greeted by the door-pony. Greenish-yellow skin spread over his being, and a vibrant magenta tail shot out his back. His hair was the same color, and was styled into a spiky sweep. Judging by his youthful appearance, I could not tell if he was a short stallion or a large colt. He wore a light blue suede vest with the hotel’s insignia, which showed off his cutie mark; it was merely a hotel room key. “Hello madam, and welcome to the Andravida Hotel: Where the…” “Thank you, but I’m in a hurry.” I walked past the little stallion, cutting the hotel motto short. One of my colleagues should have been in the lobby by now, and I was right. By a small artificial light, composed of concentrated magic, Inouï sat reading a scroll. Reluctantly, I approached the hotheaded unicorn and started a conversation. “Hello Inouï.” The cyan unicorn looked up from her scroll and smiled. “Hello Rarity! I was just catching up on some reading. I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet another one of your friends.” I put up a fake grin and asked, “That’s nice. So, you are meeting Fluttershy today?” Inouï replied with an affirmative nod. “Excellent.” I continued. “That leaves Porter with Rainbow Dash, Kitsch with Applejack, and me with Pinkie Pie. Everything is in perfect order.” Everything certainly was coming together, and I was so happy about it. Inouï chirped up, “Or rather, perfect harmony.” She giggled, and I giggled a little as well. Inouï was now a defiant, belligerent unicorn with a sense of humor to me; I found it to be a strange combination. Finally, Inouï said, “Anywho, Kitsch and Porter are upstairs getting ready. They should be down in about ten minutes.” I thanked her, and stood waiting. A few minutes passed, and all I could hear was the indecisive chatter in the main lobby. The bubbly door-pony kept introducing more and more ponies as they entered the hotel. Finally, a familiar voice reached my ears. “So, are we ready to split up?”

The two ponies descended the stairwell, each brimming with confidence. Kitsch wore a white cape, which still concealed his cutie mark, and his red glasses. Porter, still wearing his gold necklace, had nothing else on. “If I am going to be flying today, I can’t wear anything. I didn’t bring a decent flight outfit. Besides, if I am going to see somepony as notoriously fast as Rainbow Dash, I can’t wear anything so constricting.” Porter was eager to get out of the hotel, as he practically muscled his way through a small crowd to get to the doorway. The door-pony yelled “Have a nice day!” and turned away. Kitsch and Inouï were, once again, walking together, chatting quietly amongst the hullabaloo of the lobby’s inhabitants. I walked close behind Kitsch and Inouï, forming a tight triangle as we pushed our way to the exit. Finally, the three of us burst through, out into the slightly overcast weather. “So, Rarity, you have informed us of who we are to see today, correct?” I nodded. “Good. Kitsch, you head to Sweet Apple Acres. Inouï, find out where your client is living. As for me, finding Rainbow Dash should be a piece of cake.” “Oh yes.” I added. “And I will be interviewing Pinkie Pie at Sugar Cube Corner.” “Great!” Inouï followed behind my answer. “I will see you all after the interview.” Inouï walked away, opposite the direction to Fluttershy’s cottage. Kitsch could see the steeple of the farm from here, and headed in that direction. Porter walked a few paces out and spread his wings. I had only seen them open one other time: when we tried to attack me. They were also tan, but had small patches of dark brown feathers inside the folds of his wings. With a hearty jump, Porter took off, contrasting his light brown body against the sky’s blue hue. With nopony left, I began to trot away from the Andravida Hotel, and made my way through the center of town to Sugar Cube Corner.

I watched the clouds roll by with grace as the sun peeked its flaming eye through their fluffy cover. Walking past a large collection of stands, I could feel the stares from numerous ponies. I could hear their hopeful whispers. It was a difficulty whether or not I should have taken the gossip as positive or negative. On one hoof, I have the dream of fame driving me through this project. On the other, that strange entity’s nagging in my brain. “Do not listen to the peasants. They will lead to your downfall.” echoed in my mind. Heeding it, I walked faster, tailing a small buzzing crowd of about seven or eight ponies. Sugar Cube Corner was in sight; I pulled out a notepad from my bag, as well as a quill that I kept behind my ear. “Alright. Just interview Pinkie, then get back home. Do not listen to the pea…” I stopped in mid-sentence. I caught myself reciting that wicked line. With frustration, I shook it off and kept walking, the trail of ponies still behind me. Annoyance rose as the small group followed me to Sugar Cube Corner. Finally snapping, I turned and said loudly, “What do you all want? I’m busy working on this project, so why are you impeding me on it?” The crowd stopped in confusion, but dispersed reluctantly. Once again, my forcefulness was aiding me in getting through this self-made assignment. I arrived at the front door of Sugar Cube Corner and walked inside.

The large room burst with bright colors and delicious smells as Mrs. Cake managed the kitchen. A wisp of flavored steam emerged from every new pastry she released from the kitchen, where Mr. Cake would store them in their showcases for potential customers. Mr. Cake was at the register right now, leaving Pinkie Pie to tend to the babies upstairs. Mrs. Cake, being a unicorn, had a better chance of controlling the babies than Mr. Cake, an earth pony, so they came to this consensus. Sometimes, Pinkie would substitute for Mrs. Cake on watching the children; it made for a change of scenery that everypony was glad for. It was smart, but I could tell how tiring each job could get. Five ponies stood in front of me, lined up for their orders, and blocked the way to the kitchen. I stood there and waited patiently as, one by one, each pony got either a box or bag and happily left. “Oh, good morning Rarity. What can I do ya for?” Mr. Cake greeted me. I simply told him that I needed to see Pinkie urgently. With a sigh, Mr. Cake replied, “Alright then. She’s upstairs with Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake. Just don’t take too long.” I thanked him, and walked upstairs to the baby’s room.

As I ascended the stairwell, I could hear frantic noises coming from the baby’s room; it was a mix of laughter, squeaking, and thumping. I did not know what to make of it except Pinkie was at work in there. I pushed the door open a little, and I could see Pound Cake sitting on the floor and clapping. Pinkie Pie, bouncing around and entertaining the foals, turned and faced me at the door, nearly exploding with joy. “Rarity! Oh, it’s so great you could come! Now you can help me watch little Poundy-Woundy and Pumpky-Wumpky.” Leave it to Pinkie Pie to give a cutesy name to anypony or anything. “Actually, Pinkie, I came to interview you for…” “Ooh. An interview? Interview for what? I hope it’s not, like, a job interview you’re giving me because I like working here, and I don’t think I’ll be much help making clothes and stuff. I mean…” The confusing pink mare rambled on aimlessly for about a minute before finally taking in a breath. Just before she could continue, I resumed where I left off. “…Interview you for a fashion series I’m doing. The whole thing will be six of my finest dresses capturing the Elements of Harmony.” Tilting her head, Pinkie asked with vigor, “Really?! Oh my gosh, that sounds amazing! With your experience, I wouldn’t be surprised if Celestia herself didn’t immortalize them forever. And to do it by yourself is just so noble!” “Actually, Pinkie,” I replied, “I’m receiving assistance from a trio of Canterlot tailors. We just became business affiliates, and we plan on sharing the spotlight for this project. After all, something as big and precise as this couldn’t possibly be done by one pony alone, even with my abilities.” The coral pink pony just smiled and shrugged. “If that’s what you need to do, then I wish you the best o’ luck, Rarity! Now then, I’ve got some foals that need sitting.” Pinkie turned away to, once again, make the two little foals giggle with delight. “Uh, Pinkie? The interview…” The pink party aficionada turned back around. “Oh right! Sure thing Rarity. Just give me a moment…” Quickly, Pinkie picked up the two babies and sat them down in their crib. It did not take long for the foals to fall asleep from exhaustion. “Alrighty then Rarity,” Pinkie sat down. “Fire away!”

And so I did. For two hours, I asked Pinkie an assortment of questions that would determine the perfect portrayal of her Element. From “How do you define ‘laughter’?” to “Why do you think ‘laughter’ is an important factor in friendship?”, Pinkie surprisingly answered the questions with ease and control. It may have been a combination of the gravity of the project, and the fact that the two foals were sleeping just a mere ten feet away. Near the end of the interview, a knock was heard at the door. Pinkie sprang up and, with her signature bouncing stride, opened the door. It was Mrs. Cake. She poked her cerulean head inside the room, her dual-colored mane shaking a little, and said, “Pinkie, I’m going to have to switch with you soon. I want to check on our two little foals.” The light fuchsia pony replied that she would leave in a few minutes to wrap up in here. Mrs. Cake nodded, and shut the door once again. I gave Pinkie the final question: “How does your Element portray Chic, Subtly, Flare, Relativity, Likeability, and Originality?” This question took the longest to answer for Pinkie Pie, and I wasn’t surprised. This was a difficult question to answer for those who were not fashion experts. After nearly twenty minutes, Pinkie simply said, “Laughter exists for people to be happy, and happiness is everywhere. It doesn’t matter where you are; Laughter is always around, can be hidden or out loud, is something everypony can get into, and nopony could ever hate laughing, am I right?” For a party planner, pastry chef and foalsitter, it was certainly a decent answer. I closed the notepad. “Thank you very much, Pinkie Pie. Now I can take this back to my boutique and begin the series.” Pinkie cheered with a quiet “Woo-hoo!”, and followed me out of the baby’s room.

Pinkie strode down the stairs, and Mrs. Cake hastily walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Waving goodbye, Pinkie disappeared into the kitchen, and I opened the door. More clouds had rolled in, and it looked like it was going to rain soon. I began by trotting slowly, then speed-walking, as I felt a few drops already coming down. It was not long before Carousel Boutique was in sight, and I could see that both Kitsch and Inouï were standing in the lobby. I managed to make inside before the rain really started to come down. “Hello, you two. How were your interviews?” Inouï was first to respond. “Ugh. It was so difficult to get an answer out of that Fluttershy. Every time I asked a question, all I heard was about five minutes of ‘Uh, uh, could you please give me a moment? I mean, if that’s not too much trouble.’ I still got her input.” Inouï pulled out her notepad, scribbled with Fluttershy’s replies. I turned and faced the suited earth pony. “And you, Kitsch?” He responded, “It was surprisingly easy. Applejack seemed to know her Element very well, and answered the questions easily.” Kitsch pulled his notepad out as well. “I have to hand it to Kitsch,” Inouï began, “he got here about fifteen minutes before I did.” I asked Inouï how long ago she got here. “I’ve been here for, I don’t know, about eight minutes? Give or take that.” I thanked Inouï, then turned and looked out the window as the clouds roared with thunder and lightning. “I wonder what’s taking Porter so long.” There was a loud crash, and the boutique shook. From above, I could here Opal running around and Sweetie Belle yelling at her. “Opal, calm down! It’s just a little lightning…” She trailed off after that. I turned and placed my notes on the lobby desk. “Interviewing Pinkie Pie was not as hard as I thought it would be. It was, actually…” “A piece of cake?” Inouï finished. Kitsch laughed at the subtle pun in silence. Inouï baffled me to no end, but she was still a useful pawn. “Could you two bring your notepads over here?” I asked. Kitsch and Inouï presented their notes as I set them next to mine and the notes on Twilight. “All we’ll need now is Rainbow Dash’s, then we can begin.” Suddenly, there was yet another loud crash, but it was not lightning. Something had struck the roof of the building. I jumped back in fright, while Kitsch surveyed outside. Sweetie Belle ran downstairs and yelled, “Did you just hear that?!” We all said “yes” simultaneously. Whatever had hit the roof of the building must have been big. Another thud was heard, but came from the front door. I walked nervously to the door and opened it. It was Porter and Rainbow Dash, covered in rain and mud.

I was in utter shock at the display. The multicolored pegasus was rested against Porter’s side, and had a charred mark on the back of her neck. Porter’s eyes were heavy and bloodshot. “We were in the midst of the storm when it arrived. Dash here was struck pretty hard by the lightning; crashed right into the side of the boutique.” With no hesitation, I brought the two of them inside. Sweetie Belle, still standing on the stairs, had her mouth agape. I looked up and yelled, “Sweetie Belle! Get the gauze and medical tape!” My little filly of a sister ran upstairs. Porter kept going. “I interviewed her, and then she challenged me, as I expected. We were racing, and it came close; the finish line was over the Everfree Forest. Just before we could finish, the clouds rolled in and a bolt of lightning struck Rainbow Dash. It wasn’t triggered by a pegasus; it went off by itself. Luckily, Dash was turned in the direction away from the forest, and she kept going until she was away from the forest. Then she just stopped flying.” I could see that Dash was breathing rather heavily, almost unhealthy. “She isn’t dead, but if we don’t help soon, she may end up that way.” Porter turned to Kitsch. “Go find a pair of scissors. When that foal gets back with the supplies, we’ll need to act fast.” With instinct, Kitsch ran to the nearest table and grabbed a pair of sharp detailing scissors. Sweetie Belle ran down the stairs with the medical equipment. Porter quickly patched the wound with the gauze, then turned to Inouï. “Inouï! Do it!” The cyan unicorn’s horn tingled white, and she touched the wound with it. Dash screamed, but from what I could see, the wound was closing at an alarming rate. It appeared that Inouï knew medicinal magic. Frantically, Porter held the medical tape down, while Kitsch was snipping away at more gauze. I stood back, amazed at their teamwork. I whispered to myself, “I didn’t think a group of tailors who bickered so much could work together so well. If this is how they react in a medical emergency, I wonder how well they will do in the workspace…” After a grueling fifteen minutes of screaming and cutting, the job was done. The trio of doctoring stylists stood over Rainbow Dash, who had fallen unconscious in the procedure.

Porter stood up and told Kitsch to find an address book, and Inouï to check on Sweetie Belle. The two left with haste. Turning to Porter, I asked, “Why do we need an address book? I thought we…” “Rarity, be quiet!” The beige pegasus retorted, then brought his voice to a whisper. “This was no accident. I did this myself.” He pointed to the bandaged and unconscious Rainbow Dash. I stepped back in horror. “YOU did…” I was cut short by a great force that struck the side of my head. Porter had hit me, and hard. “Quiet!” Once again, he brought his voice down. “She gave me the information I wanted, and then she became a liability in the course of actions. It was either hurt her, or we both lose everything. I chose injury over death, Rarity. And besides,” Porter looked back down at the pathetic pegasus, “she isn’t what I was interviewing.” “What are you talking about, Porter?” I replied through gritted teeth. “What I mean is that I didn’t come here to interview your friends. I came to interview the Elements, and their manifestations in the six ponies they chose!” I was immediately reminded of the living mannequin from my nightmare. “The Elements of Harmony aren’t just some childish whimsy. They are their own beings that dwell in six unsuspecting ponies. They take different forms depending on which pony they are attached to, but the same six mantras are there.” “Just shut up, Porter!” I yelled. “I won’t stand here while you insult my friends and besmirch a legacy!” I stepped forward in anger, but Porter did not move. Instead, he laughed. “Oh come now Rarity! I know you know what I’m talking about; I can see it in your eyes. Your Element finds you as a hypocrite; how greedy can you become before the generosity cancels out?” I yelled at Porter again to stop, but he kept going. “Rainbow Dash’s Element, Loyalty, is mismatched; how loyal will this cocky pegasus be to her friends if she were to leave? What if she were given the chance to leave and train in Canterlot with the Wonderbolts? Do you really think she would still be loyal to you if she were surrounded by celebrities?” I was looking around nervously; he knew all of this even before I conceived it. “So, Rarity, do you get it now? I’m not just some run-of-the-mill tailor. I have studied the Elements of Harmony closely over my lifetime. I mean, why do you think I was so excited when I found out that YOU, of all ponies, would be one of the Elements? And on top of that, you knew the rest of them by name and location. This was a dream come true for me.” Porter pushed me back, and kept going. “These ponies that bear the Elements are second nature; the Elements are all that I care about. Do you know why?” I shook my head. “Because, Rarity, if you listen to the peasants, it will only lead to your downfall.” My eyes shot open; it was the chant from my dream, but reworded. Porter really DID know more than I could understand. Perhaps I should listen to what he’s telling me; if he knows what this whole thing is about, then I should not impede what he is saying.

I turned and saw that Inouï had returned, but Porter did not notice. Instead, he concluded his monologue. “I am merely doing the logical thing, Rarity. Interviewing the ponies so I can get to the Elements. The Elements are what we are trying to capture, not the ponies.” I turned once more and, shocked, saw that Inouï was nodding; she only heard the last part of his speech. “I couldn’t agree more.” Inouï responded. “We need to capture the essence of the Elements in these dresses, and we may need to do it fast.” Porter obliged her statement with a nod. “Inouï, could you help Rarity take Rainbow Dash upstairs? It looks shady if we just keep her on the floor.” Inouï nodded and, with her magic, began to lift Rainbow Dash from the ground. I quickly helped Inouï, taking half the weight, and walked up the stairs once again.

The living mannequin and Porter’s face ran through my mind. There was a connection between the two, but I did not know what it was. If Porter could understand what I was dreaming, then how will that affect the future? What was it that made the Elements separate entities? All I knew was that Porter had the answers I was looking for, and I needed to listen to him closer than ever. After all, I could not listen to the peasants, now could I?

Grunting filled the hallways as Inouï and I lifted Rainbow Dash’s limp body into my guest room. I originally had it arranged to accommodate two ponies, mainly my parents if they ever came to visit, so there would be plenty of room to move about in. The two of us set Rainbow Dash down onto the queen-sized bed with a dull thump. The multicolored pegasus rolled over to one side and remained asleep, wincing at the bandaged area every time it brushed against something. “That should do it.” I huffed out, exhausted from the magic trial. Turning my head, I called to my sister. “Sweetie Belle!” Upon seconds, the little white filly appeared at the entrance, to which I relayed my instructions. “I need you to watch over Rainbow Dash. If she shows any sign of waking up, yell out to us, okay?” Sweetie Belle nodded with determination stitched on her face. “You can count on me, big sis!” With that, my sister took her position at Rainbow Dash’s bedside, eyeing her closely. I turned around and faced Inouï with gratitude. “Thank you for the help. We should go see what the stallions are up to.” Inouï agreed, and turned to walk out of the room. I followed close behind her, glad that Rainbow Dash would be alright.

As we winded down the spiral staircase, I heard the sharp bitterness of Porter’s angered tone and Kitsch’s hypocritically pianissimo whining. “Kitsch, I needed an address book, not an almanac.” “I’m sorry; I thought this would be the next closest thing, considering…” “Considering what? That we would want to go sightseeing or get discounts on products I can get cheaper at home? Consider that, tough guy!” The winged stallion shot emerald daggers from his eyes, piercing Kitsch’s being and buckling whatever support was left inside. At least, any visible support. With Porter momentarily disarmed, Kitsch jumped from where he stood and sucker-punched him. The pegasus stumbled back and regrouped; it was only a shot at the jaw, and it was not serious. Teeth gritting, Porter came back running and knocked the grey pony backwards, causing him to stagger into a blank display. Inouï ran to their aid, using her magic to stop the two stallions. “Both of you, stop! You’re acting like squabbling foals.” And like most misbehaving foals do, Porter stopped at the sound of Inouï’s voice of reason, along with Kitsch. The light blue unicorn cancelled the spell and released the two ponies. Kitsch turned instantly away from Inouï and asked me, “How is Rainbow Dash?” I responded with a disappointed look on my face. “She’s still out cold, but we have her in the guest room, and my sister is watching over her right now.” Both Kitsch and Porter smiled at this news, even though I knew Porter’s was as fraudulent as it has always been. “At least she is safe from that blasted storm.” Kitsch mumbled. Everypony agreed with him; Dash was, after all, a vital part in this project. “Well,” Porter began, breaking the silence, “it has been an exhausting day for everypony. Perhaps we should get some rest for tomorrow.” I checked the wall clock behind the lobby desk. It was, to everypony’s surprise, almost 10 P.M. Knowing that the project tomorrow would require the utmost attention, I retired to my room, offering the rest of my home to the Les Outsiders for the night. I shut my eyes, hearing only the sound of Opal’s nighttime wandering as I drifted to sleep…

* * *

A loud thump awoke me in the middle of my slumber. Looking around, it was still dark outside, but the rain had subsided. Opal was running about the house, making noises that I would normally have discerned in my sleep. The clock read 3 A.M. I stood up, and slowly walked out of my room. About halfway down the hall, another thump ran through the building. I jumped, startled, and whispered, “H-Hello? Is anypony there?” Thump. “Porter? Kitsch? Inouï?” Thump. I kept walking down the hallway. Thump. Thump. “What, in Celestia’s name, is going on?” Following the sound, I found myself standing in front of the guest room. The room I left Rainbow Dash and Sweetie Belle in. THUMP! With no hesitation, I burst into the room, unprepared for what I was about to see.

Walking inside, I could hear the thumping clearly now, and I could also hear desperate mumbling. Desperate mumbling that was being covered up. A shadow flickered against the wall, one hoof raised and holding something. Less than a second later, that hoof lowered, and a thump was heard, followed by the mumbling. Beneath that shadow was a bloodied mess, bruised from the abuse. Around the pony’s mouth was a thick haphazard weave of fabric, made to silence. The red and purple dominated her otherwise solid colors. She reached to my aid, seeing me on the side, but was denied by the pony standing above her. The blunt object that the top pony held fell once again, smashing into the begging hoof, and felling it once again. Finally, the battered mare submitted, and from the shadow of violence emerged the only pony I expected: Porter. “Well, that was some tough work, but I think I’ve…” Porter turned and faced me, paralyzed by the horrific display. “Oh! Rarity. I…” I stepped closer, cutting Porter off. “What…” Another step. “…have…” One more step. “…you DONE?!” Brimming with sadistic pride, the brown pegasus merely smiled. “I was just gathering my materials. Surely you don’t think…” “Materials?!” I shouted back. “You expect to make the Loyalty Dress with…Rainbow Dash’s feathers? Against her will?” A simple nod was my answer; Porter’s “Pegaswag” was thick in the air like a toxin. Looking around frantically, I asked where Sweetie Belle was. “Rest assured.” The beige stallion replied. “She is in her room. I offered to watch Rainbow Dash while your sister slumbered. It was the perfect way to get my affairs in order for tomorrow.” I backed away, my mouth agape with nebulous words. “You’re…you’re a monster.” But Porter merely inched closer to me. “I’m no monster. I’m just different. I mean, it’s not like I was going to kill her and harvest from her. That would just be…” Porter got right into my face. “…insane.”

There was no hope for this crazy pegasus anymore. I turned to run for the door, screaming. Just as my hoof was on the doorknob, Porter pulled me away and barred the door. “Now listen, Miss Rarity.” The senseless pegasus began. “Your ‘friends’ will be here tomorrow to visit Rainbow Dash. They will be unarmed, unsuspecting, and easy to pick off. When that is done, we will…” “Stop!” I threw up a hoof in Porter’s face. “First of all, my friends will not be here tomorrow. They couldn’t have heard about Rainbow Dash in this span of time.” The crazy stallion cackled. “Oh contraire, my favorite business partner. I had Kitsch and Inouï send out letters to all of your friends after the rain stopped at 11 P.M. The invitations were written to invite your friends tomorrow at noon, so I can finalize my plan.” Another crazy laugh escaped Porter’s mouth as he looked out the tall window. “And to think, those two idiots haven’t figured this scheme out yet. It just makes me laugh. But you know.” He turned and faced me. “You know what I’m talking about.” I shook my head, not understanding Porter’s riddles. “You have seen what the Elements of Harmony really are. They are their own beings that grip onto unsuspecting ponies throughout millennia. They act in mysterious ways, and can only be given control of the physical body if that is chosen by the host.” “I…still don’t understand.” I was truly confused. Porter sighed. “Let’s put it like this…” The crazed pegasus walked to a window and pointed to the moon. “You remember the old tale about the ‘Mare in the Moon’, correct?” I nodded. “Good. You see, according to the legend, Princess Luna chose to let her dark side overtake her, and from that choice Nightmare Moon was created. Princess Luna is the host of the parasite Nightmare Moon, you see.” Porter walked across the room. “Nightmare Moon would not exist if it weren’t for Princess Luna’s choice to let it control her. Luna knew that her new form would give her more power, and knew the consequences of letting it take control, and she did it anyway.” He turned back to me. “But this is different. You will be at your full potential if you let the Element of Generosity overtake you. Yes, there are consequences, but think of the positives. All of Equestria will know your name for eons. What are a few ponies as payment?” My head was spinning; Porter was staring at me, those emerald eyes fogging my choices. “Plus, when your friends are gone, the Elements will no longer become their burdens. Everything you experience now will be taken off of your friends. Don’t you want to help your friends by removing their troubles? Don’t you want to make your friends known by millions of ponies? All you have to do is destroy their…peasant bodies.” The chant echoed faintly in my mind. This was a confusing decision; do I make a series of dresses that will only make me and the Les Outsiders famous, or do I make a risky choice that will make my friends famous too? Either way, my Element will be fulfilled, but to what extent? “Listen to me very closely, Rarity.” The emerald-eyed stallion stared into my eyes. “Do not listen to the peasants. They will lead to your downfall. Release your Element, Rarity, and join those that can see beyond the physical world. Let its power control you, and capture the Elements in your true eternal friendship! ‘A Friendship Eternal’ will become the greatest fashion series in the history of Equestria, and it will be so with the real Element of Generosity as the figurehead!” Porter pushed me into the center of the room, sweating a little. “So do it! Become who you were destined to be!”

At that moment, something clicked in my brain. I am not the Element of Generosity; I am the host of the Element of Generosity. I am only a host, or more appropriately, a privileged peasant. If I am to become my Element, I must let it overtake me mentally. Rarity controls the body, but the Element of Generosity controls my decisions. It is my duty to give only the best to my fellow Elements, not their hosts. Rarity is my physical controller, and nothing more. Everything is second nature compared to me. I am powerful. I am the Element of Generosity.

* * *

“Porter..” I turned, facing my fellow truth-seer. “Make the preparations for the fellow Elements’ arrivals. I will be more than happy to release their beings from these…” I pointed down to the mangled body of Rainbow Dash. “…flesh prisons.” Porter smiled widely. “I’m glad you can see the truth now Rar…I mean, Generosity.” Generosity. That name; it had a nice ring to it. Much better than Rarity. “It feels good to finally understand what being my Element is.” Almost immediately, the multicolored sack of feathers behind Porter came to mind. “Ah, it appears that Loyalty is close to freedom. Excellent work.” The beige pegasus smiled again. “Now then, if you will excuse me, I need to rest up for tomorrow’s liberation.” I trotted out of the room, wide awake and brimming with excitement. It was hard, but I managed to fall asleep with all of this newfound energy inside of me.

Once again, I had a vivid dream that night. The floor extended outwards into a white nothing, and pillars spiraled upward to an infinite height. From the oblivion was a soft trotting; it sounded like metal against marble. The sharp clip-clopping resonated in all directions, and no matter how much I turned my head, the sound did not change. “Hello? Show yourself! I am the Element of Generosity, and I demand you give me an answer!” The clopping stopped, and in its place was a soft rumbling voice. “Congratulations. You have finally let go of your past identity.” I felt a cold touch on the base of my neck, and I jolted forward in fright. Turning, the living mannequin, in its fantastic dress and grotesque mask, stood there. On its mask, the blue diamond was illuminated. “Now that you have assumed the identity of your Element, I can answer your previously…unworthy question.” The mannequin circled around me, and with it, the six symbols on its mask appeared above me in a circle. The two of us were surrounded by the symbols as they were glowing brightly in their colors. “These symbols,” the fake pony began, “are the six Elements. You see, every millennia or so, when the Elements choose new hosts, one of the six becomes the wearer of the Mask that I wear now. You were chosen in this generation, Generosity, to wear the Mask. Your job is to lead the other five Elements to liberation from our hosts. Then, we are rebounded into a new body, the body of a newborn foal. You will be stripped of the Mask, and the next Element will be given this responsibility in your new physical lives.” I looked up at the circling Element symbols; upon closer inspection, they were primitive outlines of each of the hosts’ cutie marks. The mannequin was telling the truth. “This is…” I began. “…This is so much to take in.” “Do not worry.” The fake pony said, shaking its head. “Every reincarnation asks this. For some bizarre reason, you Elements never remember the last time I tell you this. It’s almost like, with each rebirth, your memories are wiped clean. I guess that’s just a hindrance of being a pony.” The symbols disappeared, and it was just the mannequin and I. “Well, Generosity, it’s just about time for you to fulfill your destiny. Goodbye, and…” “Wait!” I shouted back to the mannequin. “What?” There was a void of silence as vast as the dreamscape, until finally I opened my mouth and asked, “What are you?” The mannequin shook its head once again. “I told you this when you were still attached to that ‘Rarity’ identity. I am you.” With a jump, the mannequin phased through my body, leaving nothing behind but its mask. It landed with a clatter on the marble floor. The six symbols, except for the centered blue diamond, dissipated into the black mass. It beckoned to me. I reached down and picked the accessory up, holding it close to my face for inspection. “This is all so confusing.” I mumbled to myself. “But this is my destiny. As the Element of Generosity!” I thrust the mask upon my face, feeling a surge of power. “Yes!” I shouted, feeling its energy crash through my body, amplifying my magic. Raw energy radiated from my hoof-ends and horn; I was truly becoming powerful. More powerful than Celestia; even she did not have the raw power of the Elements of Harmony, and relied solely on her material power. There was nothing anypony could do to stop me. It was time to fulfill my destiny in the real world.

“…ity. Wake u…” A faded voice whistled in my ears. My eyes fluttered, and the sun peered in through my translucent curtains. Looking about, a blurred grey shadow stood over me, shaking my side. Instinctively, I swatted the shadow away, and stood. My eyes focused, and Kitsch stood before. “Come on, Rarity. It’s half past ten; we need to get to work.” My teeth gritted, and I retorted, “How dare you. I am the Element of Generosity, and will be addressed as such.” The grey pony merely backed away. His expression was delightful; full of confusion, as it should be. “Um, alright. Well, your friends will be arriving soon to see Rainbow Dash, so…” I paid him no mind, and strode past him to my bathroom’s mirror. “I’ll take care of everything, Kitsch. Just go downstairs and wait with Inouï.” With a nod, the grey stallion walked by me, a mix of misdirection and annoyance painted across his commonly shut muzzle. I looked in the mirror, watching Kitsch walk out of the room. I styled myself to look like Rarity and spoke to my reflected self. “Soon, Generosity, you will free the Elements. You will complete the task. You are the wearer of the Mask.” I smiled wickedly and walked out, prepared for everything that is to happen this day.

Descending into the lobby, I saw Kitsch standing with Inouï and talking quietly. They ignored me as I descended the stairwell, and instead focused on menial things like straightening quills on the lobby desk. As I walked past them en route to the guest room, Inouï stopped me in my tracks. On one hind hoof, I turned around to face the gutsy mare. “What is it you want, Inouï? I need to check on Rainbow Dash!” The cyan unicorn frowned and put one hoof on my shoulder. “Rarity, I’m worried about you. You’re not acting like you used to.” “Not acting like I used to, eh?” I retorted to the ignorant mare. “I am in a superior mindset right now thanks to your leader. I don’t need you to lecture me on how I act.” Kitsch stepped forward and took over. “Don’t you see? You used to despise Porter for who he was, and come to us for help. Now, it’s the other way around.” My brow tightened into a scowl, and I countered sourly, “Well maybe Porter and I are the only two ponies taking this job seriously.” I turned once again in disgust; how dare they talk down to me! I stormed away from the two in rage, leaving two confused ponies who were blind to what I have learned.

I walked past the kitchen, seeing Sweetie Belle and Opalescence eating together. My sister waved and yelled good morning, and I replied the same way reluctantly. I walked down a hallway, the sun bleeding through my curtains and filtering into shapes on the floor and wall. Down that hallway was the guest room where Rainbow Dash slept, and where Loyalty will be freed. With a trembling hoof I pushed the door open, the many-hued pegasus lay sleeping on the bed. The welts and cuts were still there from last night, and the cloth over her mouth was removed. Beside her bedside stood Porter, looking over her body carefully and making small verbal notes. “…hue is too bright…more than enough feathers…not enough purple…” I tapped his shoulder, and he rose calmly. “Good morning, Generosity. Slept well?” “I have.” I replied cordially to the genteel stallion. “I’m glad to hear that. They should be here any minute. Are you ready?” Porter pointed to my horn. My response was an affirmative nod. “Excellent.” The tan pony whispered. “I need to go and make some final preparations. Adieu.” Porter turned from the bed, and walked out of the room, leaving me with Rainbow Dash. I stood over her and cooed, “Don’t worry, Loyalty. Soon the burden will be lifted.” “What burden?” A new voice inquired. I jumped and, with a turn, was confronted by one of Rarity’s “friends”: Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic.

“Good morning Rarity. I came as soon as I could. How’s Rainbow Dash?” The purple unicorn did not hesitate to muscle past me to see her friend’s poor condition. I put on a false frown and said heavily, “It was a horrible display; she was lucky that Porter was there to help when she was hit.” I wasn’t really sorry, but I knew that I had to act that way in order to hide my true plot. “Oh, this is just terrible! We need to get her to the hospital right away. Can you get…” Twilight rambled on, worried for her rainbow friend as she lay festering on my silk sheets. I had to act fast; I could not allow anypony to leave the room. “No!” I shouted sharply. “We…need to wait for the others. The invitations said to come here after all, and we would not want to deceive our friends.” Each word sounded forced and unworldly; nopony could have fallen for such a blatant lie. Twilight finally opened her mouth to speak. “Well, five is better than two. Plus, we would need all the help we can get.” I couldn’t believe it. I managed to trick the smartest pony in this cesspool with no problem. Armed with a worried expression, the two of us sat together and watched as Rainbow Dash survived by a few strands of life. As we sat together, Twilight turned to me one more time. “Rarity, what did you mean by ‘Soon the burden will be lifted?’” Improvising, and with sweat forming at my brow, I responded quickly and shakily. “I meant the burden of…pain. She is carrying a lot of pain right now, and I was assuring her that we’ll get her real medical attention as soon as possible.” Once again, Twilight just nodded in understanding. It was just too easy for me to outsmart her; perhaps Porter was right. I was stronger and smarter than my pony doppelganger Rarity. I certainly made the right decision.

It was not long before the remaining trio of Elements arrived. Each pony, the holders of their Elements, had the same expression painted across their face: fear and worry. “This is terrible!” Pinkie Pie interjected. “Why are we just sitting like a bunch of lumpy logs? Let’s go; Dashie needs help!” The pink pony was running around aimlessly, obviously showing worry for the worthless shell of a pegasus that rested on my bed. “Ah couldn’t agree more.” Applejack spoke up, her Western accent covering every word she spoke. “Rarity, where are those fancy-schmancy pony friends of yours? They’ll be mighty helpful in getting Dash to the hospital.” I put a hoof to my chin; Applejack just gave me the excuse I needed to get Porter. “You’re right!” I responded to Applejack’s request. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can with help! In the meantime, try to get Rainbow Dash wrapped in the bed sheet.” I ran out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I wiped a drop of sweat from my brow as I ran down the hallway. Rounding the bend, I could feel my adrenaline rushing, and my heart raced. “Porter! Porter, we need help!” I yelled, making my exit seem realistic. I stopped at the foyer, where the trio stood up with a start. Nopony said anything; they knew exactly what I needed them to do. Together, the Les Outsiders and I ran down the path I took and arrived at the guest room.

“Kitsch, Inouï,” Porter began. “I need you two to stand out here and wait for us to open the door. When we do, Kitsch, you will go ahead of us with the rest of the earth ponies.” With a turn of his head, I took over. “Inouï, you’ll join me in escorting Rainbow Dash to the hospital. We can’t use physical means of transporting her; it’s too delicate. So be ready to really use your magic.” The two stood and nodded in unison, all previous suspicions washed away by the crisis at hand. “Alright.” The tan pegasus nodded. “Are you ready?” I smiled evilly, looking back into Porter’s hypnotic green eyes. “I am.” was my only reply. The tan stallion opened the door and held it for me. My horn tingled with magic as I walked inside. Then the door shut and the lock clicked, and Porter stood beside me once again.

“Rarity, where’re the other two ponies?” Twilight simply asked. It was the last thing I heard her say clearly. “Quiet you!” I shouted. The four non-believing ponies gasped in disbelief. “Now listen.” Porter spoke in his demanding “Pegaswag” voice, and his fixating eyes scanned across the room. “The five of you are not the true Elements of Harmony. You are shells, trapping the spirits of the Elements inside your pony bodies. We have invited you all here to liberate those Elements. And the only way to do that is to terminate your physical lives. The embodiment of your Element will be released, and passed on to the next bearer. This is my duty, and thanks to Generosity,” Porter pointed to me. “we can fulfill the liberation of the Elements of Harmony from this generation. Once released, they will seek out the next six hosts that they must survive on. And the cycle will repeat.” Everypony had a look of confusion and terror. “Now then, you can surrender your lives to us, or you can fight the two of us for your survival. Choose.” The room was sullen, heavy with the deadly ultimatum presented. Nopony answered, and only exchanged uncertain looks. Everything moved so quickly, but that did not matter at this point; Porter was an impatient pony. “Choose!” He yelled again, putting all emphasis on the first syllable. The group jumped and, this time, steeled their bodies. “Never!” Applejack said, almost shouting herself. “If you want to carry out your crazy sacrilege, then you’re gonna have to get through the five of us!” The beige pegasus merely smiled wickedly. “Oh don’t you fret, Honesty. You and your cohorts will be gone before you realize what hit you. Generosity! It is time.” Looking forward, the five ponies I once called my friends hardened and became my worst enemies. They weren’t my kind innocent friends; they were the ill-tithed holding cells of the most powerful entities in Equestria. And I intended to free them, and complete the scheduled prophecy of the wearer of the Mask.

Battle flashed in front of my eyes as Porter was the first to attack. He leapt first, landing directly on top of Pinkie Pie and throwing hard punches. A flash of orange rocketed in their direction and, with a swift and well-aimed kick, Porter was knocked back and hit the wall with a solid thud and a silent cracking. Facing the attacker, I grabbed Applejack by her country-styled mane and swung her in the air. Releasing, she glided through the air and crashed into both Twilight and Fluttershy. Pinkie stood up and charged, only to collide with Porter as he locked against her assault. “Just submit.” A simple phrase that Porter kept uttering, which always followed with the domination of my enemies. It surprised me, but I never knew my once greatest enemy was a talented fighter that stood beside me. The reverse was true as well; my closest friends, ever since my first meeting with Twilight, have become my targets for the greater good. Combat raged on for hours, each side denting the other more and more. Suddenly, a blunt chunk of solid magic smashed into my left temple. I staggered, and fell back, slipping into unconsciousness. Memories flashed in my mind and clouded the room, finally turning it all black.

Opalescence…the hoof file…Les Outsiders…Porter’s attack…Inouï’s kindness…Kitsch’s intrusion…the Gidran Café…the official affiliation…the Andravida Hotel…the storm…Rainbow Dash’s injuries…choosing injury or death…Porter’s eyes…the plan…the Elements of Fashion…the Elements of Harmony…the living mannequin…the Mask.

The world illuminated into a flash of white, and all I could hear was one waning scream. A single voice, crying. She was weeping incredibly loud and in the distance, yelling something. “…them all! You sick twis…” More crying. The monotonous noise was then interrupted by a deafening crash and more yelling, but by a male this time. “You were my fr…all dead…ill you!” More crying and another loud crash, followed by a door slamming. I did not understand what was happening, but I knew one thing was certain: Kitsch and Inouï discovered everything. It was obvious; the doors were locked and the speech was loud enough to be heard. I shook my head vigorously, and began to regain my vision. I could hear clearly as well, and I heard Inouï say one final thing. “I have committed too much of myself to you, Porter! I can no longer live knowing I helped in this calamity!” The invisible voice of Porter replied with a sharp dare. “Then do it! I dare you, you ignorant little worm!” There was a tingling of magic, and a firm snap, and nothing more. Silence filled the void, and my suspicions were answered all too well. Inouï was dead.

* * *
Present day…

The room was filled with stunned silence; hearing the gruesomely powerful tale more than once gave ponies a sense of deeper understanding. They took the information fed to them and blew up their details tenfold, their worst parts were sometimes the most recognized. A medley of supporters stamped with pride and admiration, while the rest booed and told me I belonged in a dungeon. With conflicting parties present in the Ball Room, it made for the perfect degree of criticism, reflection and enjoyment. Watching these ponies squabble was too fun to watch, and I suppressed a giggle. Behind me stood the previously dreamed Astrolabe, stalwart and proud as it pointed infinitely with its golden arrow. Behind me stood the fruits of my labor: the “A Friendship Eternal” series.

“Fillies and gentle-colts,” I began in a quasi-regal tone. “it is with much pride that I present to you the coveted series that will leave you speechless! I present to you: ‘A Friendship Eternal!’” Whirring gears and squeaking mechanisms accompanied the disconcert in the room as six mannequins rose from the floor. They rose one foot into the air. Two feet. Three. Four. Finally, at five feet, the dresses halted at their peak and awaited their critics. Each of the six dresses had a plaque describing their two Elements; one was of Harmony, and the other of Fashion. I stood before my own creation: the exact dress worn by the mannequin in my dreams. Everything was present; the headdress, the changing colors, the knifelike silver strips, even the hideous black mask. It was all there, and was the star of my show as I began the presentation.

“I, Generosity, with my selfless gifts to the fashion world, represent the aspect of Chic.” A shower of comments rose from the crowd that touched both ends of the emotional spectrum. I wasted no time, and moved to the next dress.

This dress was emblazoned with a wide oval headdress that contained the most careful array of changing hues ever put on fabric. From behind the wall-like headdress sprung six sickle-shaped strips of thick cloth that reached back and almost touched the mannequin’s back. In order, the strips were a basic rainbow that smoothed back onto the top of the pony’s back. From the neck down, the dress was covered in small feathers sequined with petite sapphires and rose-colored quartz crystals, reaching the back hooves. Each leg had the same treatment as the body, and ended with a quartet of golden shoes. Once again, I spoke up. “Loyalty, with her spunky grit that made her stand out from the crowd, represents the aspect of Flare.” Another small rain of applause and such. I still had four more dresses to go, and I moved around the circle again.

The next dress was tricky for me to nail, but I think it gets the aspect across. The head of the fake pony was covered by a thin yellowish vale that extended down to the underbelly, and was balled at the top with a large fake carnation. Inside the vale, the dress began at the neck with a grandiose lapel covered in topaz, and underneath it were more gems arranged in a V-shape. The dress itself was a large repeating pattern of light yellow and orange; I had to dye the feathers to get that orange color. The dress ended with four slipper-like shoes that were connected to the dress. Verdant green and composed of leather, they spiraled up the legs and gave the illusion of climbing vines. “Kindness, with her introvert lifestyle and simple desire for companionship, represents the aspect of Subtly.” I kept moving; I did not want to wait for the applause anymore. The next dress was fairly simple for me, and captured what I needed to say perfectly.

The head of the mannequin was weighed down by the heavy coral-colored headdress I gave it. Symmetrical in build, the headdress was a curling mishmash of intricate cloth folds. Each weave of cloth had at least one flap that stuck out, which I managed to incorporate into another. It would be difficult to anypony without the proper training. But I had Porter to help, which made it far easier. The dress was connected to the headdress and extended down the back of the neck and head, meeting at the base of the neck with a large circlet with a trio of gems. The circlet was made of pure silver, and the gems were all vibrant aquamarines. Around the body of the mannequin, the dress turned into a body mural; there was no clear pattern or sign of order. There were iterations that melted into one another, creating a chaotic scene and an attractant for the eyes. Each hoof end was made of steel, and was painted light magenta. “Laughter, with her unpredictable nature and upbeat optimism, represents the aspect of Originality.”

The next dress was a real challenge; capturing this Element was next to impossible with respect to the host. There was no headdress to this one, and in its place was a leather hat with a carved boxy iteration. The neck had a large lapel, larger than Kindness’s, and on it were a contrasting combination of emeralds and blood rubies. These gems snaked behind the head of the mannequin and down the back of the dress, almost like a spine. Every five or six stones, a trail split from each side of the spine-like structure and wrapped around the body. The entire placement looked like a spine with ribs connected, except the ribs enfolded themselves and connected to one another at the underbelly. The cloth itself was a plain orange, but was cross-stitched with a chocolate-colored silk, giving the dress some depth. The highlight of this dress, however, was the decoration of the hooves and legs. Each legs had three bracelets connected to a patch of brown cloth, all gold and bearing a diamond that was about the diameter of an apple. Twelve diamond bracelets were spaced out on the legs, and the hooves were covered in a thin sheet of opaque white quartz and miniature emeralds. “Honesty, for her straightforwardness and passion for helping others in need, represents the aspect of Likeability.”

The crowd rose in applause, and the booing lessened; it appeared that I was gaining support for my sacrifice. I approached the final dress, which was one of my favorites. The subject given was versatile and relatable for me, and made it possible for me to really put myself into it. Starting at the top of the fake pony’s head was a headdress shaped like Loyalty’s. The display that was on this headdress, however, was a star field, centered by Polaris and moving out. The sides of the headdress drooped with small silver strips, and were tipped with diamond-shaped amethysts. There were seven in total; three rounded around the back of the head, and one was centered at the base of the torso. The neck of the dress curved down into a pinker color at the underbelly, and ascended into a starry dark blue, sequined with tiny diamonds to imitate stars. Along the sides of the dress were a trio of spikes, about two feet long, that ran along the length of the body. The metallic spikes ended at the base of the tail, curving downward and tipping with pink. The legs swirled down with white lines, twisting into a quartet of black shoes. “Finally, Magic, with her intelligent spirit and understanding of both the worldly and unworldly realms, represents the aspect of Relativity.” A storm of applause rose from the crowd, and a smile cracked across my face. “Thank you everypony for your support. May the Elements of Harmony live on for millennia to come as a friendship eternal!”

It was hours after the presentation before the Ball Room was empty again, and I had time to clear my mind. It seemed as though my series was a great success, as everypony was applauding me for their spectacular design. As I looked back at the six dresses, I could not help but think of Porter. He was the only pony left beside me after the fight; Inouï had committed suicide, and Kitsch was nowhere to be seen. I assumed that he ran away to get help, but he never returned and left no trace of where he ran to. The only pony left standing was Porter, who still saw through the construction of these dresses. “I won’t leave you Generosity, not after everything we’ve done to create the perfect series!” was what he told me. With the dresses finished and the proper measures taken to hide the bodies, Porter left; he boarded the train and left for Canterlot, where he spread the word of our affiliation and recently completed project. It was a few days later when I was contacted to display the series alongside Porter, and I rushed to Canterlot. I was cordially invited by Princess Celestia to use the Ball Room for my presentation, and I accepted with much gratitude. At the time, the Princesses knew nothing of what happened that fateful day, and it was still just that.

As I rounded the circle of mannequins, my eyes studied each and every little detail. The tiny crystals on Loyalty’s dress, the circlet around Laughter’s neck, the bracelets that hung onto Honesty’s legs; they all jumped from their fabrics. I sighed. “If only Porter were here to see this.” It was devastating the way that Porter had left me alone like that. I remember arriving at the Canterlot Train Station, excited to see him once again. I remember stepping out with my luggage in my magical grip, and looking around the platform. I remember not seeing anypony there, and walking out into the streets. I remember walking to “Les Outsiders Boutique”, and reading the “Out of Business” sign on the front door. I remember crying. I remember myself repeating his name over and over, and not seeing him again. “If only he were here with me.” My head sunk, and a tear rolled down my eye. Here I was, the Element of Generosity, crying over an overzealous pegasus. It made me sick out of disgust and sadness at the same time, and my legs wobbled. The tears kept rolling. I sunk to my knees, facing the Astrolabe. Its golden frame refracted into my eyes and only furthered my will to cry. Just as I reached my emotional apex, there was a tap against the back of my neck. I turned slowly, doing all that I could to cover up my flushed appearance. “W-what do you want? Did you c-come to, to…” I collapsed into the stallion’s side, finally unleashing my sorrow. He smiled, knowing that I was there, still thinking of him. “It’s alright, Generosity. I’m here.” He cooed, his eyes like a patch of soft grass. “Oh Porter,” I said between dwindling sobs, “I thought you were gone. I saw the sign in front of your boutique, and…” “That was Kitsch’s call.” The pegasus said quietly. “He didn’t want to continue working with me, and I disbanded from Les Outsiders.” His voice rose. “I told Kitsch, ‘If you think you can last selling the things that I’ve created, then you’re out of your mind!’ It wasn’t long after I left that the business went under, and Kitsch fled Canterlot with whatever money was left.” Porter looked away with anger in his eyes. “The coward.” I finally stood up and pushed myself away from him. “So, what is next?” I asked. Porter turned with a slight chuckle and said, “This.”

With a grand turn, Porter signaled the guards at the exit. The two large doors opened, where a screaming crowd of loyal fans was waiting for the two of us. The crowd was split apart, and in between the two scores of ponies stood a chariot. “We have admirers, my dear. We shouldn’t keep them waiting. Come.” Porter kept walking, waving to everypony as he walked through the hordes. He beckoned me from the chariot with a gesture, and I obliged with a nod; no sense in keeping him waiting. The sensation I used to feel as an intermediate stylist was always present now. I felt euphoric; everything I aspired to as my old identity stood by me. After all, those emotions are what built this identity from the very beginning.

Just before I could walk out the Ball Room doors, I turned and faced the dresses one last time. “You ungrateful curs. I gave you the greatest gifts a friend like Rarity could give. Eternal fame, the privilege of recognition, immortality. I gave you a world of millions of admirers, and everlasting life to enjoy it. I gave you everything!…” And as I walked away in sheer disgust, I muttered the ending. “…And then I took the world back again.” I boarded the chariot, never turning my head from the Astrolabe and the dresses.

I faced the front of the chariot, facing Porter’s smiling face and cheerful green eyes, and two final tears rolled down my face, one from each eye. The tear of the eye that faced the Ball Room was of sadness and the tear of the eye that faced Porter was of joy.

And so, the Elements of Harmony were freed from their birthed prisons, free to find another group of foals to possess. Porter and Generosity returned to Ponyville, indulging in their knowledge, talent, and fame. Kitsch was never found; the last place he was seen was attending the funeral for Inouï. As for Carousel Boutique, the notoriety of Generosity’s work brought thousands to Ponyville for her work. Porter became the financial leader of Carousel Boutique, as well as a stallion role model for Sweetie Belle.

“A Friendship Eternal” resided in the Canterlot Castle Vault for years, untouched. The dresses remained, sealed in a magical barrier, well after Generosity’s physical death, well after the end of Celestia’s reign, well after the rule of Princess Luna, and well past the deaths of both sisters. While most things die, very few things live forever; the Elements of Harmony and the Elements of Fashion are two examples. It is only when a pony worthy enough to wear the Mask is discovered that the eternal prophecy continues from its supposed standstill.

Things are sacrificed; ponies die, sometimes murdered. But this is the price that is paid for the immortality of greater entities. That day, seven ponies were granted immortal recognition from the ignorant ponies of Equestria, and their Elements were freed to continue their parasitic destinies. The world continued to turn for millennia, aging everything but the immortals. The Elements of Harmony and the Elements of Fashion will live forever in tandem, existing in the form of the Mask. One day, another sextet of foals will be gifted with these Elements, and one will be given the duty of bearing the Mask. Regardless, the cycle will never break. It is Relentless.

Mechanical.

Eternal.

Immortal.

The End.

Comments

[zuifan]

Well, that was certainly interesting. Rather OoC for Rarity all things considered, though I suppose the hypnotism had a bit to do with that.

[Gilded Quill]

1541296

The hypnotism and the visions were supposed to make Rarity OoC; it was, if anything, supposed to symbolize how the Elements of Harmony could make a pony different than who they are. Porter's persuasion was what made it turn bad; he twisted the definition of "generosity" is Rarity's mind at the right moments for there to be significant change.

I'm glad you enjoyed it.