> A Rare Rain > by Michael Hudson > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A Rare Rain > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The first drops began to come down just as the morning sun’s rays would have touched the great capital; Canterlot. For most, not only was this strange, this was outright infuriating. The elites paid a lot to make sure that they almost only ever saw blue skies, and for such an unscheduled shower to appear was outrageous, at least, to them. One purple parasol though, was quite happy for it, for the rain was a gift. A gift from Celestia herself, so as to say, goodbye. The white mare continued to limp along the streets as the cold sting of the fall shower increased. A small smile crossed her lips as one small bag followed behind her, as well as an urn, both held up by her magic. As she continued, the few ponies outside stayed away in disgust. Despite the quality of the parasol, having been given to her by the princess herself, the look of the mare’s face and her left forehoof disgusted them. And so she soon found herself alone as she descended. To be perfectly honest, it was what she wanted. The last few days had been chaos for Rarity. Between moving into the princess’ guest rooms, to those hounds that doubted her injuries, she had had little time to think. Little time to mourn. Little time to try to plan. She knew better though. No great solution would come from all of this. Rarity had simply lost too much. The thought of her small corner store’s opening day flashed to her mind, and she found herself smiling wider. Three years had gone by so fast. Though, that could have been because of the amount she had to have done in that time. The question of what she would do with her time now flashed through Rarity’s mind. She would of course need to go back to Carousel Boutique, maybe keep Coco around to help with orders, though she doubted that she would want the sweet mare around, at least, at first. All she wanted right now was nothing, to match just how much she still had. A vicious shake removed the pity from Rarity’s mind. She still had herself, and that should be enough. She also had her savings, her skills, and her passion. Even if this slowed her, she would not let this stop her. No, she would rise from the ashes! She would make sure to be back here within a year, maybe even two. A phoenix is what they would call her. Rarity then looked at the urn she put beside her on the bench as she waited for the train. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she immediately started rubbing at them, refusing to submit until she was warm and safe in the train. Just because her constant companion would not be able to rise back from the ashes didn’t mean.... The urn was swiftly brought against her barrel, and she hugged it tight. A single cat’s paw with a diamond embedded below it was all that lightened up the dark, turquoise jar. It was quite nice, and of course, one of Celestia’s many gifts to the mare. She knew she truly had Twilight to thank, but after all the times they had spent with each other, she honestly did try to tell herself that she did all of this out of sympathy for a friend, instead of pity for an aquientance. Her left eye cringed for a moment at the thought of pity and sympathy. A little more of that, and she would not be begging for the loud whistle that she had always found rude to come faster. Another pony to lend a hoof, and she wouldn’t have this stupid urn. A little more care, and none of this tragedy would have happened. A small scooching sound resonated in the air, and Rarity glanced at the other stallion on the bench, who immediately turned towards his paper. It was only now that she realized she had her teeth grit. That she had been on the edge of apoplectic rage. A small chuckle escaped her as she thought of how Rainbow Dash would have teased her for it. Or give her a hug. Or both. The whistle came at the same moment as a small glimmer appeared in the corner of her eye. Glancing over, she noticed the small flicker of a flame as the other pony lit a cigarette. A small smile crossed her lips as she thought of how overjoyed Spikey Wikey would be that she was… The memory of Spike’s letter telling her that he had to go, broke her, The fact that she didn’t even have him. She didn’t have her store. She didn’t have any of her wonderful outfits, nor her accessories. She had even lost her wonderful cat to that wretched lamp. If they had been driving anymore carefully, she would have all of it still. She wouldn’t need the one male who might still lie and tell her she was beautiful right now. For almost a full minute, she simply cried. Rarity had done this the past few nights as well, but this was the first time in public. This was the first time she didn’t care who saw. She needed to let it out. Needed to feel the relief of simply releasing her emotions. The screeching of the track brought this to an end, as she knew she had to move. There simply was no other option. In her small compartment, one of the few things she had refused to let the princess pay for, she laid down, and pulled out one of the few remains of her masterpiece. Of her shop. A shard of a mirror, that could only show half of her face at a time. At first, she saw her normal, beautiful self, but just a few inches to the left, and she could see them. The scars that would force her to remember the flames of that night, and how she wished she had had the rain of today then. But as everypony knows, it rarely rains in a city as perfect, as Canterlot.