After losing her sister, Rarity buries herself in her work. Just as lost, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, armed with a personal Ogres & Oubliette's module, try to help the seamstress open more than just her boutique.
After losing her sister, Rarity buries herself in her work.
Just as lost, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, armed with a personal Ogres & Oubliette's module, try to help the seamstress open more than just her boutique.
❄ Trigger Warnings: death, homophobia (implicit, explicit, slurs) ❄ An intimate epic written for FanOfMostEverything's Imposing Sovereigns II. ❄ Loosely inspired by the stage play of the same name by Qui Nguyen. ❄New adventurers beware! Spoilers lurk in the comments. ❄ Story is complete and is the silver medalist. ❄ Royal Canterlot Library featured. Highly Recommended by Present Perfect. Review by cleverpun. WHYRTY - PaulAsaran
Rarity hated prom season. This year more than ever.
It was Sweetie Belle's senior year. As usual, flocks of innocent youths would rush to her boutique, inquire about a custom tailored dress, balk at the price, and run off to another business. Thankfully, the small number of actual commissions was enough to keep her busy and her shop running a few more months.
She spent the morning discussing designs with her client over tea. A father and daughter, both dressed in fabrics Rarity could only dream of using herself. A part of her cringed as she noticed the tacky dollar sign lapel pin and garish tie.
The daughter was just as gaudy, wearing a tiara that Rarity sincerely hoped was just costume jewelry. Though she was familiar with who the girl was.
The seamstress fought the rising bile in her throat as she recalled painful memories. She swallowed it with a bit of chamomile. This is a job, she reminded herself, taking in the warmth. You need the money.
"The parcel with the requested materials will arrive no later than eight tomorrow morning," the man said. Rarity glanced at his hairy knuckles, then at the class ring on his left hand. "The value of the — are you even listening?"
"You wanted me open the boutique early and receive the parcel," she summarized. She leaned forwards and took his hands into hers, tensing at their warmth. She put on her winning smile. "Are you by chance wearing a Canterlot High class ring?"
A smile cracked his stony face. "Why, yes. I suppose I have been a tad sentimental for my alma mater lately. It made me—"
"The man who I am today," the daughter continued, her eyes wandering the boutique. "Spare me the lecture. It's bad enough you're making me go there."
"It builds character," he countered. "A little public school never hurt anyone."
"I also attended Canterlot High myself," Rarity said. She leaned back in her seat.
"See?" the father asked, tilting his head.
The girl rolled her eyes, her gaze landing on a framed photograph. She stared down at her shoes. "She's your sister, huh?"
Rarity nodded. "Yes."
"I didn't know her, but she seemed nice."
Liar. Rarity fought the urge to cancel the meeting outright. Perhaps she could even spill her tea on the dress sketches.
Unfortunately, she already took the deposit and used it to pay her rent. She wouldn't have agreed to it had she known her client was her sister's bully. However, what's done was done, and she would be kicking herself over it.
The girl continued to study everything in the boutique, greedily taking in sights that Rarity didn't want her to have. Everything came to a halt when her gaze landed on a simple silver dress in the storefront.
"How much is the one on the display?" asked the girl. "It's the most beautiful gown I've ever seen."
The Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse had been reclaimed by nature. Apple Bloom had to borrow one of her older brother's hunting knives to take it back from the encroaching forces. However, spending the afternoon cutting the branches with Scootaloo was worth it to get a little bit of her childhood back.
Prom was coming fast and then grad night and then graduation. It seemed like everything moved too quickly. They hadn't even decided their majors. Scootaloo wasn't even sure she was going to pursue a higher education. A half-hearted verbal commit to Canterlot Community College didn't amount to much. It made her mom happy that she had a full ride at least.
The treehouse was always a safe retreat from the world, where one could get lost for days or even weeks in an adventure only to come out just in time for dinner. Maybe there would be some stability waiting for them.
Maybe she'd be waiting for us in there.
Apple Bloom forced the door open and coughed at the dust. Light was scarce. Branches covered the windows, letting them know that it wasn't for them anymore.
"Whelp," Scootaloo hummed. "This blows."
"Shut up. Give it a chance," Apple Bloom said, pushing through. She kicked over a board game. Its pieces spilled onto the floor. Brushing them aside with the tip of her boot, she made her way to the center of the clubhouse.
"Feel any younger yet?"
"Was it always this small?" The drawl in her voice emphasized her disappointment. "We couldn't have been any smaller than we are now."
"Even then, it still feels..." Scootaloo didn't finish. She looked to the wooden seat sitting near the window. That was her chair.
Apple Bloom rubbed her nose. The dust was getting to her. She went to work, picking up the pieces she had just spilled. "D'ya think she'd be mad that we let the clubhouse get like this?"
"Your sister?" Scootaloo asked. Her breath shortened, and she rubbed her arm. "Oh. She always was the clean one."
With her immediate surroundings free, Apple Bloom began to clear the windows, cutting as much of the tree she could and letting light and air ventilate the club house. The two traded shifts. As one hacked at branches, the other tidied the room.
Eventually, night fell, and the clubhouse began to resemble its former self. However, they left a particular telescope still. It pointed out the window, one that Apple Bloom had delicately freed of branches as to not disturb the telescope.
"I was born under that star."
"Quit lyin', Sweetie Belle."
Apple Bloom bit her cheek and looked through the lens. She found a small, humble constellation waiting for her: Cassiopeia as she came to learn. She remembered her friend's lectures about it all too well.
"We should probably return the telescope," Scootaloo suggested. "It was Rarity's, right?"
"It stays here."
The two fought over it. In their struggles, they broke through the rotted floorboard, uncovering a little leather book.
"Ogres and Oubliettes?” Rarity turned her nose up. “Absolutely not. I appreciate your visit, girls, but I’m much too busy. I will not allow you waste my time with these childish games.”
The two looked at each other, silently arguing through their stares. It seemed their journey would end before it even started. Rarity returned to her work, delicately handling a package on her work desk.
Deciding to try again, Apple Bloom took the lead.
“You just looked like you needed to let loose.” Apple Bloom smiled, but it had no effect.
Rarity let out a haughty laugh. “I assure you, Apple Bloom, that I do not need to ‘let loose.’ And if I did, it would come in a form of a nice bath and some music, not horrifying monsters and grimy dungeons. That was always more of…”
She looked over at the silver dress on display. The girls followed her eyes then looked away. Rarity returned to work, removing a set of expensive fabric rolls from the parcel.
Scootaloo wasn’t all too sure how to approach this interaction herself. She thumbed through the book in her hands, feeling the heavy weight it carried. It wasn’t like she could rely on a dice roll to decide this encounter.
“Just try it one time.” Scootaloo held the book out. “Trust us. We think it’s something that would help.”
“Help with what exactly?” Rarity glanced down at the book. Her eyes widened in recognition. Her breath halted, and she instinctively swiped for it. Scootaloo managed to keep it just out of reach. “I’ve been looking for this! Where ever did you find my sister’s diary?”
Apple Bloom chuckled. “Uh, it’s not her diary.”
“It’s an O&O module.” Scootaloo flipped the book open, showing off the pages filled with charts, numbers, sloppy sketches, and even messier handwriting. “Sweetie Belle wrote it herself.”
“From what we’ve seen, it looks pretty personal.” Apple Bloom ran her hand through her red hair then tugged at her bow. “I don’t think she meant for anyone to even play it.”
Rarity held out her hand. “Scootaloo, may I see it? Please.” Her voice was grainy. It didn’t take long for the two to notice that she was shaking.
“It won’t do any good,” she said, handing over the book. “Unless you know how to play O&O, you’re out of luck.”
They were right. Rarity looked through the book herself and failed to decipher anything meaningful. The only things she could figure out were a few sketches of monsters and the large map taped to the inside of the front cover. Even her sister’s handwriting was difficult to parse.
“Besides, these things are better experienced than read.” Scootaloo took the book and laid it out on the table. “Though, I think we all might learn a bit about her.”
“At least she made some use of her gift. Why couldn’t she leave behind a diary like a normal person?” Rarity sighed. “Alright, girls. Teach me how to play.”
The trio of adventurers sat around Rarity’s desk. The only adult in the room couldn’t help but get cold feet. Would playing a children’s game really change anything? She was just wasting her time. She had dresses to make and clients to satisfy. The set-up alone seemed to be eating up her morning.
Her desk, which was normally filled with fabric and dress sketches, had now been cluttered with sheets of paper and the map of an unknown land named Belle Reve. Rarity inwardly chuckled. It wasn’t all too subtle.
“First things first,” Scootaloo said, grabbing a folded sheet from the book. “We have to make you a character.”
“A character?”
“We’ll be here all day if we start from scratch,” Apple Bloom noted. “She’ll make a good spellcaster. Maybe a mage? We could use a healer.”
Scootaloo scribbled down on a sheet of paper. “Good call. Now for your name.”
“My name’s as good as any,” Rarity said, missing the faux pas of her statement entirely.
“No it ain’t,” Apple Bloom snapped. “You gotta make a character who isn’t you. That’s the whole point of these games. You can be anyone you wanna be.”
“Preferably with a weird and exotic name,” Scootaloo added. “Like Susan or Karen.”
Apple Bloom pushed a sheet of paper with a crude drawing of a knight on it. “I am April Smith, a level twenty two paladin who loves her some ale and a good tavern fight.”
“And I’m the mightiest barbarian ever to wreak havoc on the land,” Scootaloo jumped in and pounded her fist on the table. “Villagers everywhere flee in terror when they hear the dreaded name of the Warrior Brute Scott.”
“Scott?”
“My friends call me Scotters,” Scootaloo said with a smile. “So, what’s your name fellow adventurer?”
Rarity took a moment to consider it. “Renee. It was the name of this heroine in a book I absolutely adored as a child.”
“Stealing ideas from the things you read,” Scootaloo remarked. “Classic.”
Apple Bloom passed over the half finished character sheet with generic but forgiving stats all around. “You are Renee the Enchantress. You’re an elf druid, who prides herself in the rigorous study of magic as well as aesthetics.”
“We can figure out the rest of your backstory later,” Scootaloo said with a hand wave. “Right now, we need to show you how to play the game.”
“Scootaloo's gonna double playin' a DM and her character, okay?” Apple Bloom said. “She’ll describe what’s going on, you say what you’re gonna do, and I’ll walk you through the dice rolls and what they mean.”
Rarity nodded. “That would be appreciated. Thank you.”
Scootaloo cleared her throat. “We begin our campaign in a dense woodland. Your memory is hazy. You don’t recall who you are other than your name and that your pointed ears make you an elf.”
Sweetie Belle pounded her fist against the door. There was no answer. “I know you’re in there. Get out!”
Misty vapors escaped from the bathroom as Rarity opened the door. She wore a crown made of a pristine white towel and a matching dress. She looked down her nose at her younger sister and scowled.
Sweetie Belle rushed past her, slipping under her sibling’s arm and grasping for her toothbrush.
“Aren’t you going to shower?”
“No thyme,” Sweetie said, her mouth full of fluoride. She used her free hand to comb through her hair. “I’m gonna be late.”
“If you didn’t want to wait, you’d wake up earlier,” Rarity chastised, adjusting the towel at her chest. “Heaven knows you need to spend more time on your appearance.”
Incensed, Sweetie Belle leapt at Rarity, tackling her to the ground and pulling at her sister’s wet hair. The two sisters struggled. Globs of toothpaste bathed in spit dribbled onto Rarity’s face with every snarled swear. Rarity fought back with one arm, desperately clinging to keep her towel in place. She dug her nails into her sister’s shoulder.
“Girls, stop it!”
Sweetie was pulled off her sister, restrained by a deceptively powerful set of doughy arms. Rarity lay on the ground, rubbing her stinging cheek.
“You’re sisters,” their mother lectured. “I’d expect this from a pair of unruly boys.” She sighed. “Rarity, get dressed and drive your sister to school. Sweetie Belle, take a shower.”
The car ride was awkward.
Sweetie Belle silently stewed in the passenger seat. She was up to her knees in discarded trash and dirty clothes. Apparently, Rarity’s vanity did not extend to her car.
She kicked her legs up on the dashboard.
“Feet off,” Rarity snapped, applying a base of concealer over the forming bruise.
The little sister made a face but did what she was told. At least we’re at a red light. She reached for the radio. Rarity slapped her hand away.
With no other real options, she turned to her phone and checked MyStable to kill time. Glancing up, she sneered once she realized her sister was turning into a parking lot. “You said we were going straight to school.”
“We are,” Rarity said, unbuckling her seatbelt and exiting the car. “This is right on the way.”
Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes and stared back at her phone.
SB: I’m gonna be late >:(
Apple Bloom sent back prayer hands emojis.
She went back to her timeline, finding cute videos of kittens, an update from Apple Bloom’s cousin from Manehattan, and a selfie of Rarity and the ridiculously sweet drink she ordered for breakfast. Sweetie Belle gagged. Despite what her name implied, that much sugar sounded disgusting to her.
After an agonizing wait, Rarity reentered the car, carrying a single drink topped with a mountain of whipped cream. Sweetie Belle’s stomach gurgled.
Upon closer inspection, you’re in an orchard. Delicious apples hang high above your reach. On the ground, you spot a figure hugging a tree.
“I guess I’ll check it out,” Renee said. She walked over to the figure and kneeled over the unconscious form. “Wake up!”
The other adventurer stirs. Her only identifying feature is the long crimson hair flowing from her helmet.
“Ugh, my head,” she groaned. “Oh, it’s you.”
“You recognize me?” Renee helped the other adventurer stand.
“We met last night. Name's April.”
You hear a faint noise in the distance. It’s the sound of a horse drawn wagon.
“Let’s follow where it’s coming from,” April suggested.
The two of you track the sound, discovering a well trodden road. You wait as the wagon gets louder, eventually coming into view. It stops right in front of you, and you make out a blonde woman at the reins.
“Howdy. The name’s Abigail,” the farmer greeted, tipping her hat. “I take it ya got lost on yer way back to town? Need a lift?”
“Can we trust her?” April asked.
Make an insight check.
Uh, nine.
Her muscles are built from years of farm work, not combat. You can tell from her eyes that she’s earnest. In fact, she kinda reminds you of your sister.
“We can trust her,” April said with a nod.
The two of you board the wagon. The farmer picks an apple from a tree above her head. She offers it to Renee. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until just now.
I accept the apple.
As you eat, Abigail drones on about her life.
“Normally, Ah’m not one to help adventurers out,” Abigail began, twisting the reins around her wrist. “But my little sister’s one — always runnin’ around gettin’ into trouble an’ such. Ah swear to my sweet Granny Smith that I’ll wring that li’l neck of hers for abandoning the farm.”
My sis does not talk like that.
Does too.
“You get in fights with your sister?” Renee asked.
“All the time,” Abigail answered. “Just last moon, she came around close to death, arm bent the wrong way. Ah nearly finished her off myself for trackin’ mud through the house.”
Wasn’t that the time when you broke your arm, Apple Bloom?
My sis gave me an earful for sure.
That’s what you get for climbing up trees during a rainstorm. Zap apples don’t exist.
They do too, and they’re delicious.
Abigail chuckled. “But, that’s what sisters do. They fight over nothing, but love each other when it matters.”
Before you realize it, you’ve arrived in town. The wagon stops in front of a tavern.
“Best of luck adventurers. Oh!” Abigail reached into her bag and retrieved a small sack of coins. “This should be enough to cover my sister’s tab and a decent breakfast.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” Renee said, accepting the bag. “How can we repay you?”
Abigail smiled. “Just take care of my sis. The helmet’s just for show.”
The duo entered the tavern. It was past noon, yet the inside remained dark. Sketchy patrons lined the walls and the bar at the other side of the room. The barmaid, a woman with fiery hair, looked up from the sleeping figure on her counter and met eyes with the pair.
"Where's my money, April?" called the woman behind the counter.
Even behind her helmet, April's sheepish grin was obvious. She swiped the small bag from Renee and hurried to the counter, dumping it off. "Are we straight, Sloane?"
The barmaid smiled as she counted the shining coins. "Yeah, we're settled."
April's shoulders sank. "Good. We can get started on next month's tab."
The lump on the counter began to stir. "Count me in." It groaned. "You owe me one, April."
Sloane shook her head. "No more drinks until you pay your tab, Scott. You're a mercenary. Just do a job, you lazy brute."
Scott rises. His grin is rogueish as the stubble on his cheeks.
The brute laughed as he stretched. "I'm good for it. When have I ever let you down?"
Sloane raised her brows.
April sat at the bar and gestured for Renee to join her. "Sloanie, Scott, meet my new friend, Renee."
Scott gave her an awkward salute.
Sloane waved. "Pleasure to make your aquantance."
Renee made note of the necklace around Sloane's neck. "Cute charm."
"Thanks," Sloane said, turning around and filling a glass. She passed it to April, who took it in greedily.
"A bowl of today's soup would do me good," April said, wiping her lips. "Want one, Renee? She's a mean cook."
"I'm also a palm reader." Sloane rested her arms on the counter.
"She's the best," Scott said, scratching at his short hair. "It's like she can read into your soul."
"It's a neat party trick." Sloane gestured for her to come closer. "Want one?"
Renee figured it was worth a shot to unravel her own tapestry. She leaned forwards on the counter and held out her hands. Sloane grinned as she removed her gloves.
"Your past?" Sloane asked, circling Renee's right hand with her finger. She did the same with the left. "Or potential?"
"Past." Renee swallowed.
Sloane nodded before tracing the lines on her palm. "Your life line's broken."
"What does it mean?"
"It means, strife, loss, an irreversible change." She looked to the other hand. "Not good. It's present on both palms."
"Am I going to die?"
Sloane laughed.
They met eyes, and a strange light filled Sloane's. Her expression dropped. "You have a sister. There's an near insurmountable gap between you both. It's not too late to reach understanding. Even now."
Scootaloo, can you not?
This is what your sister wrote. There's even a drawing of her palm.
Oh.
Sloane took Renee's other hand, the potential. "I sense adventure in your future. Self discovery. Understanding."
It had been a while since Rarity had gone out. It seemed like everything had changed behind her back. Fashion had changed, music tastes had changed. She felt completely out of place in the outside world.
Sunset Shimmer put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Rarity smiled back. "I'm proud of you for getting out the house."
"Mmhmm." Rarity rubbed at her bare arms. "Although, I do miss the warmth of my bed."
"Don't worry," Sunset said. "We'll be inside in any minute now, and you can rub up on all the guys for warmth. It'll be just like old times."
Rarity giggled, her face flushing red. Tonight would be good for her. Tonight would be fun.
It was not.
Everything was disorienting. The music's pulse had no consistency, switching tempo and rhythm at what seemed like random. The dancing was just as confounding. She didn’t know how to move like the others, so she just awkwardly bounced in place. She wasn't having fun. Right now, she just wanted to go home.
She needed a drink to calm her nerves. Perhaps it would loosen her up just a bit.
Pushing past waves of people, Rarity made her way to the bar. She nearly collapsed on top of it, finding something stable to hold onto while the world kept spinning round.
She felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Thought I lost track of you," Sunset said, smiling as she joined her friend. Rarity smiled back. "What do you need?"
"A shot."
Sunset held up two fingers. A pair of drinks slid in front of them. Rarity didn't hesitate. Sunset followed her friend's lead.
Rarity rolled her neck. She closed her eyes, trying to return to a headspace she hadn't been to in over a year. It would be difficult. However, she wanted nothing more than to take her rightful place as the queen of the dance floor.
Another shot. Rarity licked her lips and took a deep breath.
Confidence, Rarity. Confidence.
It was simple. She would march down the dance floor and claim the cutest boy she could find. They'd dance together, flirt, and lose track of the night with each other. She’d rest her head on his shoulder and hold onto his big, strong arms. Then, they'd go home together to cap the night off.
All that went out the window the moment she began crying onto said shoulder. They only shared a single drink.
“What’s your problem?”
Rarity felt the makeup run down her cheeks. She pushed off the jerk and crumpled down onto the bar counter, openly sobbing into her arms. She wasn’t ready, and she wasn’t sure if she would be.
“Rarity, are you gonna alright?”
“I’m fine, Sunset,” Rarity said into her arms. She heard rustling. “Do not.”
It was too late, Sunset’s warm hand was on her wrist, and she made out a faint glowing light.
“Get off me!” Rarity pushed her away, noticing the necklace in her friend’s hands. “I’m going home.”
Rarity looked at the book in her hands. Even though she had an O&O session under her belt, the contents still remained elusive. There was a deeper meaning in there somewhere.
Her head was still pounding from last night. The shameful memories intruded her thoughts. She bit her cheek. She would have to send an apology email to Sunset sometime soon. If she could find the time, she could schedule a lunch meeting, preferrably a neutral site like at the little cafe by the park.
Looking down at her planner, she realized there wasn't much time to take a trip downtown. Perhaps she could just make it a working lun—
"Rare." Applejack's voice pulled the designer from her thoughts. "I've been here for five minutes now, and you haven't said a word."
"Oh." Rarity ironed out her dress with her palms. "I apologize. I haven't been thinking straight lately."
"I'd say so." She slathered a healthy helping of apple butter onto a cookie. "You never invite me over."
Rarity forced a laugh."I suppose I could be more inviting." Her tea was a welcome savior, allowing her to recollect her thoughts. "I just wanted to catch up with you. I know we're both busy women."
The farmer nodded. "It was hard to tear myself away from the orchard. Though, my brother can handle it on his own. Apple Bloom's been a big help, too."
"Right." Rarity tapped her fingers against the notebook. "Speaking of, can you thank your sister for bringing me this again? I don't think I could possibly say it enough."
"What is it?"
Rarity pursed her lips. "I suppose it's a storybook my sister wrote. From what I could tell, it's semi-autobiographical. You even make an appearance."
Applejack tilted her head.
"That's, um, actually part of the reason I wanted to speak with you."
"Okay. Shoot."
Rarity licked her lips. "Do you recall a conversation with Sweetie Belle about sisterhood? Perhaps something about fighting?"
Applejack smiled. "Yeah. I think it was around the time I started giving your sis rides to school. She asked if it was normal for sisters to get into fights."
Rarity's nails dug into her palm. "And what did you say?"
"I told her it'd be weird if they didn't." She scratched the back of her head. "But when it mattered we knew we loved each other."
"Like the time Apple Bloom broke her arm."
Applejack laughed. "Did she tell ya that I drove her to the hospital myself? I didn't even have a license at the time."
The pair laughed, and Rarity felt her chest lift for a moment. "Thank you for telling me this."
"You're welcome, Rare. Just know any argument with your sis meant little in the long run. Sisters fight. It's what they do."
"At least you still have yours."
Rarity instantly regretted speaking. She didn't even know where the scathing resentment came from. It was mean spirited. Ruthlessly cold.
"Don't be a stranger, Rarity." Applejack left without another word.
The mall was Rarity’s second home. Thankfully, her little sister shared the same sentiment.
“Mother gave us twenty each,” Rarity said, digging around her bag for her wallet. She held out the cash, and Sweetie Belle jumped up to swipe it. “No videogames.”
The younger sister let out a whine. It didn’t last long as she counted the money. “This is forty.”
“You get my twenty on the condition you buy yourself some nice clothes,” Rarity explained. She grabbed her sister by the wrist and led her to a trendy shop in the corner of the mall. Sweetie Belle dragged her feet.
Most of the clothes on the rack were cheaply made and kind of plain, but it was a good start for her fashion impaired sister. Once Sweetie Belle was enlightened, then she could introduce her to the more esoteric concepts of outfit coordination.
“No, not that one.” Rarity snatched a baggy green flannel from her sister’s hands and placed it back on the rack.
Sweetie pouted and ran her hand across the sleeve. “I like it. It looks comfy.”
“Style first, comfort second.”
“That explains why your friend always wears a leather jacket.”
Rarity rolled her eyes as she picked through the clothes hangers, scouting for something that would fit her sister. “How about this?” She held up a powder blue summer dress. “Pair it with a cute belt, some strappy sandals.”
“Nah.”
The older sister clicked her tongue. “Okay.”
Sweetie Belle held up another shirt. “I like this one.”
“A hawaiian shirt? Are you trying to dress like our father?”
“He dresses comfy.”
Rarity shook her head. She continued to drag her sister across the store as she assembled a closet’s worth of outfits. The younger sister spent the better part of the afternoon modeling.
Sweetie Belle threw a crumpled twenty over the dressing room door. “I’m over it! Keep your stupid money. I’m your sister, not a dress up doll.”
A second passed and Rarity slipped a pink and white striped shirt and a hot pink jacket under the door. A wrinkled twenty hung outof the front pocket.
“That one’s cute,” Sweetie Belle admitted.
“I know, right!?”
Sweetie Belle wore it out the store.
The pair took a hard earned break at the foodcourt. Sweetie Belle had scouted a table, and Rarity quickly joined her with a pair of fruity smoothies.
The older sister caught the younger’s gaze focused on a particular store.
“Is something the matter?” Rarity slid a drink in front of her sibling.
Sweetie sighed. “I wanted to buy some cleats.”
“What for?”
“Rainbow Dash suggested trying out for the soccer team,” she answered. “Sounded like fun, until I realized I don’t have enough for them.”
Rarity took a long drink of her smoothie. She reached into her bag and passed over some cash. “Here, go grab us some food. Anywhere with salad options.”
Sweetie nodded as she left the table.
While her sister was gone, Rarity visited the sporting goods store.
A strange force knocked Renee off her feet and into the ground. It shook the wind from her chest, and she coughed. What little air she took in had a bite to it.
Our first battle begins. Roll for initiative.
Twelve.
Eighteen.
Ten. So Rarity starts off...
Renee fired the first cantrip she could think of, throwing a quick bolt of flame up at the assailant. It let out a pained cry, stumbling backwards into the hilt of April's sword. It fell to its knees.
Scott raised his mighty hammer high above his head.
"Wait," the figure pleaded. They stopped. "I'm not the one to kill." Its voice was a cold chill. It pointed to Renee. "She's behind it all. Nature is not yours to toy with, you witch."
"Excuse me?" Renee looked to the others. "You must have me confused with someone else."
The figure stood. Scott tried to restrain it, reaching for its prismatic hair but coming up with only vapors.
"What are you?"
"I'm a sylph. I'm the wind." She balled her hands into fists. "And I'm gonna kick your ass!"
The wind elemental lunges for Renee's neck.
"Why... me...?" Renee gasped through choked breaths.
The sylph smiled. "You challenged me. If you want to control the storm, you have to defeat the stormbringer."
"Lay off her," April said, raising her sword and stepping forwards.
A gust of wind threw April back, sending her flying into a tree.
"This is between me and the witch," the wind spirit snarled. She let go and backed away. The wind spirit had no legs, seemingly floating on a cloud of mist. "Give me your best. I take anything less as an insult."
Rarity rubbed her throat. She gripped her staff tighter as the pair circled each other for combat. Surely, she knew something more complex than a cantrip. Now would be a good time for her to remember any actual combat spells.
So take a look at your character sheet. We just wrote down some low level spells your sister used to use. Pick something you want to open with.
Chaos Bolt?
Your sis loved using that.
Roll 2d8.
That's two eight sided dice.
Two and Seven.
Pick one.
Uh, two.
Now make an attack roll.
Twenty.
Holy.
Is that good?
You hurl a chaotic mass of energy at the wind spirit. Frost leaves your fingertips. As it connects with the figure's body, you notice its shape begins to harden. The mist takes on a solid form.
Cold raced up the elemental's body. It felt sluggish. In seconds, the cold pinned her arms to her sides, slowly transforming the spirit into a frozen sculpture.
"I knew you were a witch," the sylph said, laughing. Ice began to roll up its neck. "The frost will claim you, too. Not even your sister will be able to help you, Prin—"
Scott shattered the stormbringer with a swing of his hammer.
"We're losing light," he explained. "We can cut through the woods."
“A little help here!” April cried, trying to push the paw of an ursa minor off her chest. The constellation claws threatened to slash her neck.
Hiding in the trees, Renee fired cantrips from a distance. Her frail body left her with little defense. At least she had cover, but she couldn’t risk dying to save April.
“On it!” Scott rushed to the monster, belting out a battle cry as he swung the massive hammer.
Twelve.
The iron hammer connected with the ursa’s leg right at the joint. It roared in pain and began to limp away.
“Chase after it!” Scott ordered, blowing past April and running deeper into the woods. “We could use it’s claws for weapons”
April scrambled after her. “Get back here, ya idiot. You’ll get yourself killed if you run into its mama.”
Renee had no choice but to follow. The trio rushed through the woods, ready to vanquish the lame monster that struggled to escape. Branches crunched, leaves rustled, and mud spattered.
They tracked the ursa minor down to a clearing in the woods. It was curled up into a ball and whimpering. A woman dressed in all white hugged its side. Her long pink hair fell down past her lower back.
"We found its ma," Scott said.
April crossed her arms. "More like the forest's ma."
"Oh, poor baby," the woman cooed, her voice soft and raspy. She gently massaged the exact spot Scott had struck. "What monster did this to you, Mojo?”
The beast turned its head to the trio.
"Sorry for hitting your cub, Lady Frances," said the warrior brute sheepishly. "We swear we're not monsters."
"That thing tried to kill us!" April added.
“I’m sure it wasn’t personal,” the lady said, nuzzling the ursa's fur. "He was just preparing for hibernation."
"Hibernation?" Renee asked. "It's spring."
Frances nodded. "Exactly. With the frost returning so soon, all the creatures in my forest are frightened."
"What do you mean?"
"Can't you feel it in the wind?" Frances asked, walking towards the three. "It's taken on a cold chill lately."
"Where's it coming from?" Renee followed the wind in her hair.
Frances pointed north. "From the castle. I hope your sister is alright."
Renee stepped back. "My sister's behind this?"
I probably should have guessed.
"You're a princess?" Scott asked.
"You look so much like her." Frances took Renee's hands into hers. It felt like a hug. "I just hope she'll listen to you. The queen hasn't had the time to have an audience with me."
Scott gripped his weapon. “Then we'll just march straight to the castle and force her to listen. My hammer is pretty persuasive.”
“Violence won’t be necessary.” Frances' voice was firm.
“We’ll talk to her,” April assured, scowling at Scott. “We’ll leave our weapons at the door.”
"Good." Frances pointed off to the woods ahead. The forest opened a trail for them, clearing on its own. "Stay on the right path, adventurers, and my guidance will bless your travels."
“You picked a great time to visit, Rarity,” Fluttershy said, kneeling down into the grass. “Now’s about the time I let all the animals out to play.”
The little backyard of Everfree Animal Shelter had changed since the last time Rarity had visited. It was more than a shelter at this point. It was a haven for downtrodden critters to find a caring home.
It’s no wonder she found it comforting here.
Rarity let out a yelp as a puppy attacked her legs.
“Mojo, no!” Fluttershy scolded, reaching over and grabbing the pup by the collar on its neck. It pawed at her happily, panting innocently. “Sorry about that, Rarity. He just gets a little antsy from sitting around all day. You didn’t mean it, did you, Mojo?”
The puppy licked her cheeks.
Rarity smiled politely. “Oh, it’s alright, dear.” She wiped the fur from her pant legs, regretting not bringing the roller she used to keep Opal's fur off her clothes. “Wait, Mojo?”
“Your sister named him,” Fluttershy said. They watched the dog rush out into the grass, flopping onto his back and basking in the sun. "He was a stray that she brought in. She was such a kind soul."
Rarity smiled. It felt good to hear nice things about her sister. “How often did she volunteer?”
At least twice a week,” Fluttershy answered, scooping a wandering cat onto her lap. She ran her hand across its back, eliciting a purr. “I think she did it to get away from the world. She’d always vent to the animals.”
“About what?” Rarity asked, kneeling down next to her friend. Her pants sunk into the mud. She didn’t notice.
“School mostly.” She rolled the cat’s ears between her fingers. It purred again. “Though, I did overhear her talk about you sometimes.” She giggled. “Her impression of you was actually pretty funny.”
Rarity couldn’t help but laugh along. “I wish I could have heard it.”
Fluttershy let go of the cat. It mewed in protest. She picked up where she left off.
“Did she ever talk to you about anything?”
Fluttershy smiled. “Actually, it was what we didn’t talk about.”
“Hmm?”
“She seemed so stressed about what she wanted to do with her future,” Fluttershy paused for a moment. “I told her that she didn’t have to worry about it as long as she tended to the animals with me. We talked about literally anything else. What she had for breakfast, the bands she liked, the stories of her favorite games.”
"Boys?"
"Anything," Fluttershy said. "She just liked being heard."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that you were there for her." Rarity ironed out the wrinkles in her pants. "At least someone was."
"Nonsense." Fluttershy glared at her. "I'm sure you were there when she needed you."
"I should go." Rarity stood up. She noted the mud on her knees. "Apparently, I have laundry to do."
Fluttershy giggled. "Next time you volunteer, dress down a little—if you don't mind, of course."
"You should have seen her play," Rainbow Dash said, staring off into a soccer field. She rested her feet on the bleachers. "She was the only other kid who could keep up with me."
Coming from her, that was high praise.
"She'd give me this look." Rainbow contorted her face, half squinting. "And then we'd just book it down the field. She'd boot the ball to the edge of the field and I'd haul ass to catch it and make a break for it. Scored a lot of goals that way."
"I wish I went to a game at least once." Rarity hugged her knees. "I always told myself I'd go her senior year when I had the time."
Rainbow squeezed her friend's shoulder. "Hey, don't think like that. You were there in spirit."
Rarity looked up. "Hmm?"
"You bought her cleats, right?" Rainbow asked. "Day one of practice, and she shows up in expensive shoes. That's you written all over it."
Rarity laughed, yet it faded quickly. "So I spoiled her sometimes. That doesn't make missing her games alright."
"Those shoes meant a lot to her," Rainbow added, tugging at her socks. "Wouldn't play a game—wouldn't even practice without them." She chuckled. "One time, just to mess with her, I hid them in a locker, and she totally freaked."
The conversation halted. The pair watched the Canterlot University track team take a lap around the field.
"Thank you for telling me this." Rarity sighed. "It's good to know that you and the rest of the girls were better sisters to her than I ever was."
"Don't talk like that!" Rainbow scolded again. "No one's perfect. I was tough as shit on her."
Rarity tilted her head. "How so?"
"Made her run laps, push ups, you name it. I let her know when I thought I wasn't getting her best," Rainbow admitted. She rubbed at her chin. "She decked me pretty hard once when she found out I asked the coach to bench her."
Rarity let out a slight gasp "That's not like her."
"I didn't think she had it in her, either," Rainbow said with a laugh. "At first, I thought, 'this can't be Rarity's sister.' Then I remembered the look you got in your eyes whenever you got real focused."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't mean to sound corny, but when you get dialed in, whatever you're focused on becomes the most important thing in the world to you." Rainbow stretched out her legs. "That applied to people, too."
"Thank you." Rarity thought about what she had heard. "I'm learning new things about my sister every day."
Rainbow's phone went off. "Gotta go, Rare. Class starts in ten. Who woulda thought you'd be the drop out?"
"It's a leave of absence." Rarity rolled her eyes. "I don't think I can focus on school. Besides, my boutique's taken off. I have a storefront and everything. I don't think I need a degree."
Sweetie Belle felt the tears roll down her face the moment she got home. She slumped down, feeling the door’s grooves against her back. She buried her head in her hands. Her cheeks, round and red, burned with emotions she could hardly process.
“Sweetie Belle?”
She looked up and found her sister at the top of the stairs.
“Are you alright?” Rarity descended the steps and kneeled at her sister’s side. She brushed the tear away with her thumb.
Sweetie tore her face away. “Leave me alone.”
The older sister sighed but kept at her sibling’s side. “You know I can’t.”
“I said leave me alone!” Sweetie cried, pushing herself off and rushing up the stairs. Rarity followed only to run into a slamming door.
She tugged at the doorknob, finding it unlocked. However, she didn’t enter, knowing the situation needed some tact.
Returning a bit later, she cracked open the door. “Sweetie Belle? I drew a bath for you.”
The younger sister threw a pillow in her direction. It landed at her feet.
“The bath bomb’s already dissolving.” She leaned against the wall. “It’s the one with the pretty stars.”
Sweetie Belle stirred.
Rarity gave her younger sister privacy, retreating back to her room. However, she did listen for her sister’s soft steps on the carpet. She waited a few more minutes before knocking at the bathroom door.
“You can come in.”
Feeling her chest relax, Rarity entered the bathroom, carrying a few items in a little bag. She found her sister in the tub, her head and shoulders sticking out from the starry night sky.
“You look content,” the elder sister noted.
“I am,” Sweetie Belle said, sinking slightly deeper into the stars. “Thanks.”
“We’re sisters,” Rarity reasoned, pulling a few candles from the bag. “Think nothing of it. Now, swirl the water around a little.”
Sweetie Belle did as instructed, swinging her arms as if she were swimming in a finger painting. The galaxies bent to her will. Solar systems swirled at her fingertips.
Rarity lit the candles and set them on the window sill. She then put her focus on connecting her phone to a spotty bluetooth speaker she bought at the mall with her first dress commission. It held on for dear life but still sung love ballads powerfully. Now, it comforted her baby sister.
“I used to give you baths, you know,” Rarity mentioned.
“You did?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“Yeah.” Rarity laughed.
“What?”
“You were three. I had just turned eight,” Rarity said with a faint but forming smile. “I thought I could show my parents that I could be responsible.”
“And then what happened?”
“I used a whole bottle of bubble bath and flooded the tub,” Rarity admitted. “I couldn’t help it. You loved playing with the bubbles.”
The two sisters laughed together.
“Am I pretty?”
Rarity’s heart tore in half. “You’re beautiful,” she said without hesitating. “Any boy would be lucky to have you.”
You hear a voice in the depths of the woods. It's the most enchanting thing you've ever heard.
"Stay on the path," April said, voice terse. She gripped her lantern and held it further ahead of her.
"The forest plays tricks." Scott kept his hammer at the ready, peering into the depths of the shadows. He could have sworn she saw something move at the edges of the light.
Renee pulled the blanket over her shoulders. The cold was starting to get to her. The others seemed unfazed by it, which bothered her. Scott's leather loincloth couldn't have retained much heat.
Constitution check. Scott got fourteen.
Seventeen.
Four. How bad is it?
Renee's enchanted.
Oh, no.
Renee stepped off the path. There was one thing on her mind. She must find the owner of that voice. The singing had her spellbound, and she disappeared into the night to follow it.
"Renee!" April called, chasing after the elf. Scott followed.
There's a mist building the deeper you step into the forest. Do you try breaking free?
Yes.
For your freedom, make a saving throw, Renee. With each attempt you fail, the harder it gets to escape.
Eleven.
Not enough. The fog licks at your arms.
Nine.
You can feel your agency slipping away. The fog is all encompassing.
Renee broke into a clearing and stumbled to the dirt, inches short of spilling into a lake. She turned around, finding a curtain of mist over the trees.
When she looked back, she spotted a figure standing on the surface of the water. The moonlight illuminated the figure's silver skin, as if blessed by the Roamin Moon Goddess Diana herself.
The figure started singing.
At last, Renee found the voice she desperately craved. It rose and fell with the ripples of water grazing the lake's shore. The gentle tones were smooth, quiet, as if she was singing directly in her ear. Renee wanted, no needed more.
"Who are you?" Renee hadn't noticed that she stepped into the water. Her boots were soaked. She didn't care.
The singing stopped for a moment, and Renee felt colder than ever. "Sylvia."
"Sylvia." The name tasted like a spoonful of honey. She was now knees deep in the lake. Despite that Renee felt warm.
The figure began to advance. Her steps barely displaced the water, spinning silver. "Sing with me."
Renee nodded. Her mouth was dry. She was thirsty, and her lips were chapped raw. None of it stopped her from joining her song. They were in harmony. In their own secret grotto, they had each other and their voices. That's all they ever needed.
You never felt this way about anyone before.
Renee took Sylvia's hands into hers. She shuddered as their fingers intertwined. She looked into her eyes, finding light, finding innocence, finding trust, finding happiness.
Renee felt the dark wrap around her. She was lost in the abyss. It didn’t even feel like she was floating in water.
Something grazed her calf.
She kicked at the void, her movements sluggish as she caught nothing.
Her chest began to burn. Air. Air. She needed air.
Bubbles escaped her lips as the pain raced up her throat. She scrambled skywards, following the air, yet there seemed to be no surface in sight.
Then she found her.
Sylvia. The name was like needles to the heart.
The siren’s skin, now silver scales, let off a light glow. She was beautiful still, painfully so. If Renee died in her arms, she’d know no other happiness.
Sylvia floated closer and brought a finger to Renee’s lips. There was a sadness in her eyes. “Stay here with me. I don’t want to come out.”
A deep roar bellowed from down below. Renee turned to face it.
When Renee looked back, Sylvia was gone, replaced by nothing and leaving her surrounded by the infinite loneliness.
She didn’t need air anymore.
The groans from below only got louder and louder. Dread filled Renee’s veins. Whatever it was got closer. She deciphered mangled words.
“Hopeless dyke. Hopeless dyke. HOPE. LESS. DYKE.”
Renee felt small. So very, very small.
Something coiled around her body, constricting like a snake wrapping around its prey. She tried to push it off, but it didn’t work. It squeezed the last bit of air from her lungs.
Her ribs cracked, and she let out a retching cough.
Renee stared into a pair of the most striking blue eyes she’d ever seen. They were massive, piercing the darkness. She could see her own reflection in them.
She was trapped in a giant’s hand.
In the darkness, she caught a glint of light, discovering a crown of diamonds several stories tall. She spotted movement, finding Sylvia slipping behind the ornate tiara, peering over the edge with those same sad eyes.
Renee was out in the open on her own, staring into the eyes of judgement.
Were they always that blue?
Then its brows lowered into a scowl.
Did she get them plucked?
The giant’s lips curled into a sneer, and Renee found herself staring at them. They rose, fell, and pursed with words she drowned out. Her thoughts were elsewhere, and the apparent danger she was in meant nothing.
The monster flashed its teeth, perfect ivory daggers.
I bet she takes great care of herself.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she was brought to the opening of the leviathan's maw. The sharp teeth hung high above her, threatening to come down like a guillotine. Her life was over. This was it.
Something snapped. Then light.
Renee found herself coughing for air on the shore. She grasped around, locating her staff and using it to help stand upright.
She took a deep breath. She was okay. She was alive.
Sweetie Belle needed kindness. That was the conclusion Rarity drew.
She was still processing the information, reeling even. She wanted nothing more than to hold her little sister close and tell her it was okay. That she was valid. That her feelings were valid, that it was okay that her sister loved women, and that she deserved love. To love. To be loved.
Yet she never had the chance.
She didn’t even know until now, a year removed from her sister’s passing in a confusingly encoded diary that masqueraded as a children’s game.
Could I have done something? Was I unapproachable? She stared down at the pages upon pages of the painful phrase scrawled onto paper. She hoped, prayed that it was just therapeutic venting and not some burning self hatred that she couldn’t extinguish.
She’d never have the chance to ask which it was.
Bells snapped Rarity out of her trance. She looked up from her desk, finding a pair of teenage girls at the entrance of her boutique. Her body seized for a moment as she recognized the two.
It was them. It was Sylvia and Diana. No scales, no size. Just two teenage girls in her shop. They were clients. They were people, yet they were still monsters.
“My daddy wants updates on the dress,” Diamond Tiara announced, marching right up to Rarity’s desk. The other girl followed closely.
The dressmaker plastered on a smile. “Ah, good to see you. Your dress should be on the mannequin by the window. Just be careful with it. I haven’t attached all the detailing yet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she hummed, walking behind the partition. “Daddy’s out of town, so I’m gonna send him a few pictures.”
“That’s alright, darling.” There was a bit of venom in her voice. It went unnoticed. Rarity glanced over to the other girl, who was staring at the picture on her desk. “Is something the matter?”
The girl looked down at her shoes. “I’m sorry about your sister.”
Rarity swallowed. “Thank you.”
“We had choir together." She fumbled with her hands. “We sometimes stayed after class to help each other practice.” It looked like she wanted to say more. "Sweetie Belle was... a great singer."
Keep her name out of your mouth.
“Silver!” Diamond Tiara cried from the partition. “Help me zip up my dress.”
“Coming!” she squeaked, hurrying over to aid her friend.
Rarity turned back to her work but found it difficult to focus. Her hands refused to cooperate, and all she could picture was the pair of girls who mercilessly bullied her sister. It took every bit of self control she had not to throw them out.
She sighed and took a long drink of water.
Eventually, the pair of girls returned. Diamond brushed past her. "My dad will email you what he thinks."
On their way out, Silver knocked over the business cards from her desk. "Sorry!" she yelped, before kneeling and picking them up.
To: RBelle@CarouselBoutique.sitely.net From: s.spoon2001@mystable.com
Subject: Seeking a Quote.
Greetings. I am a prospective client looking to bring a personal design to life and would like your expertise.
If your schedule permits, I would like to meet with you Saturday morning to show you the designs in person. If not, we can reschedule.
All the best.
To: s.spoon2001@mystable.com From: RBelle@CarouselBoutique.sitely.net
Subject: Re: Seeking a Quote.
Salutations! I would love to meet with you to discuss options. I'm open to meet between the hours of 9-11 AM on Saturday.
The world will keep spinning, Rarity Belle
To: RBelle@CarouselBoutique.sitely.net From: s.spoon2001@mystable.com
Subject: Re:Re: Seeking a Quote.
Good. Let's meet at The Silverton at 9:30. There will be a reservation under your name. Feel free to order anything you'd like. It's on me.
Rarity looked at the chain of emails on her phone. It was already a few minutes past ten, and there was no sign of her client. If it was a joke, it was an elaborate one. Even for breakfast, reservations at The Silverton were hard to come by. Her server had even assured her that her meal was paid for in advance. However, that didn't keep her from ordering something modest, a simple omelette in case she did have to pay herself.
Even then, the fluffy omelette was simply divine. It just melted on her tongue.
Papers rustled, and Rarity looked up from her dish, finding a young woman sitting across from her. She nearly coughed out her food once she recognized the girl.
Her hair was meticulously styled, pulled back into a tight braid. Her pointed glasses looked like they belonged to someone beyond her years. And her eyes. Rarity finally understood what her sister meant when she saw sadness in them.
Syl—
"Silver Spoon," the girl said flatly, extending out her hand.
Rarity stood up. "I have to go."
"Please don't!" the girl stammered. She gripped Rarity's wrist, palms clammy and trembling. The teenager took a deep breath then fumbled for the folder in front of her. "I need to show you this."
She spread a few pages across the table, and Rarity sank into her seat. They were sketches, matching the ones in her sister's O&O book. Only it didn't have monsters. Instead, there were imperfect drawings of Silver Spoon and Sweetie Belle, holding hands and wearing matching white dresses.
"She was my first kiss," the girl said, staring down at the pictures. "She had this grand idea of coming out together. You know how she was. She was bright. She was loud. She was theatrical."
Rarity nodded.
"I couldn't do it," Silver admitted, hanging her head low. "I was too scared. I had my chance to stand with her, and I just— I just."
The girl was sobbing. Rarity leaned in and put her hands on Silver's. "This wasn't about a dress, huh?."
Silver Spoon nodded weakly. "I loved her."
"I'm sure she felt the same." Rarity smiled. "I hope one day you'll feel love again."
It was a breach of privacy, for sure, but Rarity did her sister a favor in the first place. It had to balance out, right?
The older sister looked down at the piece of paper in her hands. Her brows tensed, wavering slightly as she squinted at the row of letters.
It was Sweetie Belle's report card, and the grades were not good.
A lone "A" sat at the top for her outstanding work in choir. The rest was an army of Cs and Ds and a single damning F. She even got a B in gym for "Lack of participation."
This can't be right. Rarity read the card again. Still the same.
She had to do something. Showing it to her parents was not an option. They would absolutely freak. It was what they did. She would also spare her sister the pointed condescension. Nothing would ever be enough for them, and having actual empirical evidence to use as a weapon was a frightening prospect.
She knew this from experience.
That left confronting Sweetie Belle. It wasn't too late. Her sister was just a freshman, and she could save her grades in the next semester. With good study habits, she could even keep it high for the rest of her high school career.
It was time to be a good older sister. It would take some tough love and an uncomfortable conversation, but it would be worth it in the end.
After all, Sweetie Belle's future was at stake.
Rarity felt guilty.
All sorts of knots twisted in her stomach, and she squirmed in her seat, knowing it was only a matter of time.
"Now, all you have to do is slide out the graphics card, and—"
"No need to explain, Twilight. Just hold onto it for me, would you?"
"Rarity!" squeaked a voice from the other room. The older sister tensed as the footsteps got louder. "What did you do?"
The older sister sat still behind her desk. She met a pair of indignant eyes and refused to look away, remaining steadfast.
"How was school?" Rarity tapped the desk.
"What'd you do to my computer!?" Sweetie Belle marched up to the desk. It was uncharacteristically clean, save for a single slip of paper. She tried to swipe it, only for Rarity to grab it first. "You're not supposed to see that."
"Better me than our parents," Rarity said. "You'll get your graphics thingy back when your grades improve."
"It's not fair!" Sweetie whined, stomping her foot. "It's my computer!"
"It still works." Rarity made sure of it. Twilight had it tested. "It can't run games very well, but you can still do your school work. If you need any help, you—"
"Why are you doing this to me?" Sweetie Belle balled her hands into fists. "It's none of your business!"
"I'm your big sister," Rarity answered. "I'm only looking out for you."
"I hate you," Sweetie Belle spat. She rushed out the room.
Renee woke up to a guitar strumming. Once her vision cleared, she was assaulted by an abundance of pink.
She was in a humble cottage, lying on a couch that had been pushed up to a crackling hearth. The girl at her side smiled, her face nearly obscured by a wild mess of curly pink hair.
Something warm grazed her chin.
"Drink," said the bubbly bright voice. Renee did as she was told, greedily taking in the thickly sweet beverage.
Renee sat up, gasping in pain. She clutched the red-tinted bandages around her stomach.
“Stay still. You’ll upset your wounds. The doctor should be here soon,” she said. "You're lucky to be around. Swimming in a freezing lake is preeeetty silly."
Renee laughed politely before more cocoa was poured down her throat. It burnt her tongue, but it felt good to feel warmth again.
"Where am I?"
"My home, duh," said the woman. “Whoops, my name's Piper. My sisters tell me not to talk to strangers, but now we know each other's names, so it's fine. Right, Renee?"
"How do you—"
"Your friends screamed it all through the woods. Thought it sounded fun, so I joined in!" Piper bounced on her heels. "We found you passed out in a pile of snow."
"My friends? Where are they?"
Piper smiled. "Warming up at the tavern down the road."
"Of course they are."
The door opened, and a gust of freezing air blew through the cottage.
"Blasted frost," cursed a gruff, yet feminine voice.
"Looks like we're snowed in until it clears," said a calmer, detached voice.
Renee turned to the door, finding a pair of gray women shaking off snow.
"Hey, what did we say about bringing strangers home?"
"She's a friend, Lana," Piper argued, scrunching up her face.
"She's a stranger," said the other sister. "Remember last time?"
"C'mon, Maude. The last guy didn't even steal anything." Piper blew a strand of hair from her face.
Lana crossed her arms. "That's because Mabel started screaming the second he entered our room."
"It's a great security feature," Piper countered.
Lana grunted. "I'm gonna check on Mabel. Maude, can you watch the stew? Piper, be useful for once and set the table."
Maude nodded and turned her attention to the pot above the hearth. "It should be ready soon.” She paused. "I hope you didn't drink the last of the cocoa."
Piper licked her lips suspiciously. "Nooooooo."
Maude shot her an unimpressed look. She grabbed a torch and held it to the fire. "I'm drawing a bath. You're bathing last, Piper."
Piper whined. "But I don't like the cold water."
“Too bad.” With that, Maude left the room.
Renee tilted her head. "You let them treat you like that?"
“Eh, they’re big softies. " Piper shrugged as she began to set the table. "I know they love me."
"How so?"
Piper picked up her guitar. “They work all day in the mines, so I can follow my dream and be a bard.”
“Without the snow, you'd be a goner," the doctor said, slowly cleaning out the wound. She threw the old bandages to the side before applying a new layer. “It slowed the bleeding. Though, any longer on the ice, and it could have gotten worse.”
“Spare the details,” Lana said. “Maude’s squeamish.”
“I am,” said Maude, her expression unchanging.
“That should be it.” The doctor pushed up her glasses. “Be sure to swap out the bandages every few hours, but the wound should pose no problems.”
Piper sighed. “Thank goodness. I thought I lost my friend.”
Lana rolled her eyes. “You’ve known her for a day.”
“You can make friends in a day.”
The door crashed open, bringing in the encroaching blizzard. Lana cursed, rushed to the door, and slammed it shut as two figures stumbled inside.
“My friends!” Piper chirped.
“More strangers,” Maude noted.
“Woof,” Scott groaned, shedding a coat of snow-covered fur. “You do not wanna go out there.”
April kicked off her boots before rushing over to Renee’s side. “Hey there. We lost track of you in the wood.”
“Not your fault,” Renee groaned weakly. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“We got where we needed to in the end,” April assured. “The castle’s only a stone’s throw away.”
“We leave at dawn,” Scott added.
“Everyone best go to sleep,” Lana suggested. “Doc, unless you want to share the one bed with me and my sisters, I suggest you take the good chair. The brutes can take the floor.”
Renee woke up to searing pain on her wound. She opened her eyes, finding the doctor hovering over her. Scott and April lay on each other on the floor, snoring by the embers of the hearth.
“I apologize,” the doctor said clinically. “Come morning, you should be strong enough to heal yourself, but right now I need to change your bandages.”
“It’s alright, doctor.” Renee sat up, groaning in pain.
“You can call me Tara,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind the lack of formality, princess.”
“No, no I don’t.” Renee winced as Tara applied a bit of pressure.
“I pray you can end this blizzard." The doctor tied up the last bit of the bandage. "I’m no sorcerer, but I can sense when royal magic is involved. Your sister is quite the interesting individual.”
Renee sighed. “Yeah, she was.”
“What made you return to Belle Reve? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Renee thought about it for a moment. “She needed me, and I think I need her.”
Tara nodded. “That’s what family is for. I’ve been keeping my brother’s head on straight for years.”
“I agree,” said a quiet voice in the dark. The other two women jumped. A meek, sickly looking child stepped into the candlelight. She held a jar of water. “I don’t think this blizzard is evil.”
“Mabel, right?” Renee sat up, despite the pains.
The girl nodded subtly. “I feel the queen is misguided. She needs her sister to see what matters most.”
“I don’t know, Rarity. Makeup isn’t really my thing.”
“Please indulge me, Twilight.” Rarity parsed through her makeup bag, pursing her lips as she searched the right shades to compliment her friend’s face. “Besides, I can’t be the only one getting dolled up for Pinkie Pie’s birthday party.”
Twilight adjusted her glasses. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“She said it would be an intimate get together,” Rarity noted. “I don’t suppose there’s someone there you want to wow?”
A light tint appeared on Twilight’s cheeks. “Well…”
“Keep that blush!” Rarity darted back into her bag.
Before Twilight could protest, she was met with a powder filled brush to her face. At this point, it was too late to decline, especially now that Rarity had removed her glasses and placed it out of reach.
Rarity clicked her tongue. “So, how are your classes going, Doctor Sparkle?”
“I’m still in pre-med, but they’re going well.” Twilight sniffled, the blush irritating her nose. “I’ve been missing sleep a bit more often than I’d like lately.”
“You shouldn’t neglect your rest, darling,” Rarity said. “A growing girl such as yourself should—”
“I’m twenty one.”
Rarity pinched Twilight’s arms. “And when’s the last time you had a decent meal. You look so—” Rarity paused then chuckled awkwardly. “I apologize. I’m sounding so much like our mother right now.”
Twilight hummed. “Maybe you need to relax some more.”
“I appreciate the concern, Twilight,” Rarity dismissed. She popped open a tube of lipstick and held it near Twilight’s mouth. “But I have a perfectly healthy work-life balance.” She gestured to the prom gown in the back corner. “My latest dress is complete. I’ve made more time for friends. I even picked up some insightful self help books for when I eventually go back to school. Some new hobbies… yoga… true crime podcasts…”
“It sounds like you’re—”
“Living my best life, I know, dear.” Rarity held Twilight’s chin and painted on a smile. “My life is exactly— hold still —where I want it to be.”
Twilight smacked her lips. “Okay.”
Rarity grimaced. “Oh, dear. It seems the lipstick’s smudged. Here, let me help you wash it off, so we can try it again.”
“N-no thanks.” Twilight shook her head. “I don’t want to waste anymore of your makeup. It looks pretty expensive.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Rarity waved her wrist. “To be truthful, I’ve missed doing this with my little sister. She was just as restless, but you can’t rush beauty. She just refused to understand the delicate nuances of contouring. Don’t even get me started on hair care.”
“I will not.” Twilight forced a laugh. “Shampoo and condition every day, am I right?”
“Absolutely not. You’ll strip the oils from your hair with shampoo. Goddess, you should know—”
"I'm not your little sister," Twilight snapped, letting it out in the open. Her eyes went wide. “Oh, goddess I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
"No, no, you’re right.“ Rarity looked at her hands. “You're not.”
Rarity held the gift bag close to her chest as she waded through the crowds of partygoers. It seemed that Pinkie Pie had invited the entire city to her birthday party. The amount of people in the backyard had to be a fire hazard. An even bigger fire hazard was the awe inspiring mountain of presents dedicated to Canterlot’s legendary party girl.
Intimate get together my—
“Hey there,” Rarity called, waving her wrist to greet a somewhat familiar face from high school.
She didn’t plan to be here long anyway. All she really wanted to do was see the birthday girl, catch up, and then she’d be on her way back home. Though, she didn’t have much waiting for her there. She always felt aimless after finishing a project, yet this time felt especially empty.
Emptiness was a feeling she was used to. However, she couldn't really process how she felt when she saw her friends sitting at the table at the edge of the backyard. Her body went rigid. She considered joining them for a moment but hid back into the crowds and returned the way she came.
She made her way through the house, a modest little building that did not seem large enough for Pinkie's lifestyle, let alone her siblings and parents. She took a free spot on the couch, squeezing in between a couple making out and a guy on his phone.
She let out a long sigh as she dropped her head into her hands.
“There you are, Rarity. I thought I sensed you… oh.”
Rarity looked up to find Pinkie Pie kneeling at her side. “I thought you said this was a small get together.”
“It is,” Pinkie squeaked. “I usually rent out the whole block, remember?”
Rarity laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”
Pinkie took her friend’s hand. “C’mon, the girls should be out back. You look like you could use some cutting loose.”
“N-no thanks.” Rarity shook her head.
Pinkie pouted. “Pretty please!”
“I don’t think I’m ready for a big party.” Rarity held out her gift bag. “I just wanted to give you this. It may not be as spectacular as your other gifts, but…”
Pinkie Pie took the bag and pulled out a little silver bracelet. She slipped it on, eyeing the four tiny gemstones at the sides. “Whoa.”
“It’s your birthstone.” Rarity pinched the emerald. “It’s not the finest quality, but—”
“This is the prettiest rock I’ve ever seen!” Pinkie squealed. She shook her wrist, watching the stones jangle. “What about the other ones?”
“Your sisters,” Rarity answered, pointing at the gems. “Topaz, garnet… diamond.”
“Diamonds!?” Pinkie gasped. “Rarity, you shouldn’t have.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s my own birthstone, so I had a spare.” Rarity hummed. She rubbed at her own bracelet. “Besides, I still have another stone that matters more.”
Tears welled up in Pinkie’s eyes. “Rarity, you’re the best.”
Pinkie dove in and smothered her friend in a hug. Rarity hugged back, losing herself in her friend's arms.
Rarity looked up from her table where a beautiful roll of silver fabric was taking shape. She was in the zone, lost in her work, and absolutely refused to let herself lose focus.
“Can it wait?” she asked out of the side of her mouth. “I’m busy.”
Sweetie Belle bounced on her heels. “You’re always busy.”
“This time I’m extra busy,” Rarity threaded a needle, pricking herself in the process. She sucked on her finger. “Go ask Mother.”
“She’s at work,” the younger sister explained. “Dad is too.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. She looked down at her sketches and studied them. It took a long time for inspiration to strike. It just couldn’t go to waste.
Sweetie Belle puffed out her cheeks. She stamped over to Rarity’s desk and hovered over her sister’s work. “So what’s the dress for?”
“Secret,” Rarity answered.
“Got a date?” Her voice cracked.
Rarity bit her cheek. “No. Now, please get out of my workshop.”
Sweetie Belle shook her head, her curly hair swinging. “Nope.”
“Just walk.”
“For the whole five miles?”
“Then take my bicycle.” Rarity began to unroll the fabric some more. “It should be in the garage.”
“That piece of junk? Fine.” Sweetie Belle slipped out the room for a moment before popping back in with a smirk. “If I die it’s your fault.”
She disappeared.
“Good,” Rarity mumbled, running the fabric through her sewing machine. “Maybe I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.”
The funeral was quiet.
Rarity stared at the open casket in the distance, yet she remained glued to the bench. She couldn’t bring herself to see her baby sister’s face. Just the thought alone was unbearable. Saying goodbye was not something she was prepared to do today.
“The closure will help,” her mother said, gently rubbing her daughter’s back. “Trust me. It may hurt now, but it will be better in the long run.”
The tips of Rarity’s shoes pinched her toes.
“Don’t pressure her, my love,” her father said, taking his daughter’s hand into his. His palms were worn, calloused. He even cleaned his nails. “If she needs time, she can take it.”
She did not say goodbye.
On her way out, she barely acknowledged the group of girls that were there for her. They gave her their condolences, and she thanked them for coming. It felt more diplomatic than it did comforting. She also brushed past her sister’s best friends without a word.
Rarity stepped out into the cold morning air and sat at the stairs. The wind bit at her arms, and she wanted nothing more than to return home to her bed and never leave. It was just a nightmare. A terrible, impossible nightmare. She would wake up the next morning and fight with her sister about hair products, what to eat, and a million other things that didn't matter.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t a nightmare. It was worse. It was real.
Rarity woke up to the smell of cooking bacon. It filled her with a profound sense of dread. She buried herself beneath her lush covers, hoping it was just the brain playing tricks on her. Perhaps she was just hungry.
Her fears proved to be all too real as a patronizingly sweet voice called her awake.
"Honestly, Rarity, it's no wonder why you're so mopey," her mother scolded, heading towards the bedroom window and forcing open a heavy set of blackout curtains. "The sun's good for you."
Rarity groaned. "Mother, please."
"And just look at the state of your bedroom!" She put her hands to her hips and scanned the cluttered floors. "I knew I should have done something about it when you were younger. Now it's a bad habit that's followed you into adulthood."
Sighing, Rarity lazily sat up and peeled off her sleep mask. "I keep my boutique presentable. Let me be untidy in private."
Her mother clicked her tongue. "What happens when you bring a nice boy back home, and they see this pigsty? It reflects poorly on your character."
"You're not implying what I think?" Rarity tightened her robe. "Besides, I'm off the market. I'm married to my marketplace."
"The marketplace won't give me grandbabies," she shot back. She forced a pile of clothes into an already stuffed hamper. "The older you get the slimmer the chances are."
"It was always pretty slim," Rarity grumbled under her breath. "Considering Sweetie was a closet lesbian."
"A what?"
Rarity glanced down at her breakfast and felt conflicting feelings of nostalgia and anxiety. On her plate sat two of the thickest cuts of bacon she'd seen in years nestled into a mountain of scrambled eggs, cooked in a rich base of bacon fat.
She nibbled her toast and wondered how she had maintained her figure with what her parents offered every morning of her adolescence.
"Is something wrong, Rare?" Her father asked.
"I'm not that hungry." She delicately picked at her breakfast.
He tore into the bacon with his hands. "You sure? You look thin."
Rarity smiled politely and cut a small sliver of eggs. Although, her appetite suddenly returned the moment her mother entered the kitchen. She stuffed a forkful in her mouth and gagged at the overtly rich taste.
"Hon, a li'l birdie told me something interesting about our daughter," her mother said, leaning against the countertop.
Her father smiled. "You're getting engaged?"
"Our other daughter."
"What do you mean?"
Rarity swallowed the lump. She didn't expect to be spending her morning coming out the closet for her sister. "Sweetie Belle was gay. I found it in her diary. I don't know if she was planning on telling us before she passed, but here we are."
"Our baby girl? Surely it was just a phase."
"You have no baby girls!" Rarity slammed her palms on the table. "You had two young women coming into their own." She shrunk back in her seat. "Now you just have me."
Ice covers the castle town. The snow reaches your knees as your party trudges through. It looks like there's no one left in town anymore. If they are, they're snowed in, trapped behind the mounting frost.
The wind would have knocked Renee off her feet had she not had her staff. It kept her balanced despite her weaker constitution compared to her companions. Her teeth grit, she led the charge. The castle was in sight. Their journey was almost over, and the fates seemed to be on their side.
The gates came into view. It had been frozen shut.
I'm gonna try to break through.
Roll for strength.
April took the hilt of her sword and bashed it against the icy gate. The cold had weakened the metal enough for it to shatter upon impact. The pair continue forward, finding little resistance other than the weather.
You march through the castle courtyard. It's buried in snow, but you find the steps. You hear a groaning voice from the top of the stairs.
“Always for her,” the voices said in unison. “Always for her.”
“Careful, everyone,” April instructed, taking the lead.
Renee nodded and followed close behing. Scott lagged behind and guarded their flank. The trio rose up the stairs as the blaring winds threatened to push them back. Snow hit their faces, but that did nothing to stop or even slow them. They were so close.
“Always for her.”
At the top of the steps, they found the source of the voices: two golems made of ice. They blocked the entryway to the throne room, each holding lances with the finest point made of frost.
“Let us pass!” April called, tightening her grip.
“Always.” Their heads cocked. The male spoke up. “You’re… not… her… You're just a child.”
"Just a child," they said together, firmly rooted in place.
“Talking ain’t workin’!” Scott rushed past Renee, dragging his hammer behind him. “Who wants ice chips?!”
Scott swung the hammer high over his head and brought it down, using its momentum to carry its force.
Eighteen.Scott's swing breaks the upper half of the male golem. It shatters beyond recognition. A frozen crown rolls down the stairs and chips with each step it descends.
“You’ll never be her,” the female golem groaned.
Renee threw a quick cantrip at the creature. The fireball hit, and the golem began to dissolve, erupting into cries of pain as steam flew from its skin. It's form dwindled by the second and quickly became unrecognizable. "Why can't you be more like your..."
"That's it," April said, dissapointment in her voice as she sheathed her sword. "Now, we just have our audience with the queen."
Scott planted his hammer to the ground. "Can't wait to give her the ass kicking she deserves."
"She needs saving," April countered. "She needs us."
Scott gestured to the surrounding blizzard. "Yeah, classic damsel in distress, right here."
The trio noted the encroaching ice crystals, branching and stemming like snowflakes. They followed the sharp, jagged patterns until they found the source.
The queen herself sits in a cocoon of ice.
You step deeper into the throne room on your own. It was meant for you and you alone.
Renee's legs moved as if they had a will of their own. Her boots connected with the ice, the pieces crunching beneath her weight. The air got thinner the closer she got. The frost burned her fingers. It hurt to hold her staff.
It's freezing. You want to turn away and run, but before you can move, you find your feet are enveloped by ice.
Renee stood in place. Movement was not an option.
You can make out the queen in the ice. She's beautiful. Frustratingly so. Her skin is white as snow. Her eyes are the morning frost. And her hair. Her hair. Perfectly frozen in place, the color of the night sky before the aurora sets in. She's—
"She's me."
What do you do, adventurer?
"I raise my staff."
You roll a four. The ice is so cold that you drop your weapon.
"Can she hear me?"
The dice say yes.
Renee kept still, her mind racing with what to say. Would words even work? What would she even say? The frost began to race up her ankles. She was losing time. The cold licked at her skin, threatening to devour her whole.
"Uh, hello, me.” Renee sighed. A puff of vapor escaped her lips.
The queen does not react. The ice reaches your shins.
“You’re hurting a lot of people,” she said, trying to reason with it. “Do you know that?”
The queen does not move. The ice eats your knees.
“Your people need you.”
The queen is still. You can’t feel your legs.
“You’ve lost a lot. Do you even care?” Renee forced herself forwards, breaking free for a few steps. The ice reclaimed her quickly. “Are you even capable of caring?”
Behind the crystal cage, the queen’s eyes meet yours. They’re still cold.
“You’re letting your kingdom succumb to ruin. You’re just letting it happen.” Renee’s hands were forced to her sides. “Don’t you see? Closing yourself off has always made it worse.”
The queen is unmoved. It seems nothing you say goes through to her. She is resolute. She is resigned. Ice wraps around your chest. Frost spreads throughout the kingdom.
“From what I hear, you were a good queen.” Renee gasped as the ice slipped around her neck. “Maybe not the best, but you tried. I’m sure Sweetie Belle would underst—”
The name escaped her lips. She tried to swallow it back.
The queen looks to you.
“Your sister loved you. Don’t blame yourself.” Renee's voice was a whisper. “You might have lost her, but you can save what’s left. You don’t have to lose it all.”
“Why’d you have to be such a good DM?” Apple Bloom grabbed her friend by the shoulder. “You made her cry.”
“It was your idea!” Scootaloo shoved her off.
The two continued bickering, fighting with choice phrases that were normal for brutish warriors like April and Scott but unbecoming of two girls on the cusp of adulthood.
“It’s alright, girls." Rarity wiped the tears from her eyes.
She looked down at the desk, finding it messy with paper scraps. She had no idea how she lost herself in that world, but she did not regret a second.
They were on the last page. The adventure in Belle Reve was only a shared dream of two sisters.
She walked over to her friends’ side and gave them each a hug. “Thank you both. For everything.”
They nodded, neither really knowing what to say. They hung in the heavy silence for a moment.
"Back when we were the Crusaders," Apple Bloom swallowed. "We thought of ourselves as a family. My big sis and Rainbow Dash. You were a part of it, too."
"We still do," Scootaloo added. She wiped the snot off her nose with her forearm.
"I'm sure she'd be honored to call you her sisters," Rarity said. "I know I am."
The girls clung onto her for a while.
"I..." Rarity turned to the silver dress. "I have a lot to think about."
Rarity's heart raced.
She was at the end of a long line of students. With each name called, the line shrunk and another teenager became a full member of society.
This would be her second time walking at a graduation, an opportunity her sister never had the privilege of experiencing. It's not for you, she thought, biting her tongue. You're doing it for her.
Before the painful thoughts truly set in, Rarity felt an arm grasp hers. She smiled at Apple Bloom to her right. Scootaloo flanked her left, locking her arm around her.
"Will you be alright when they call us up?" Scootaloo asked. "You'll be alone for a bit."
Rarity nodded. "It won't be for long."
Apple Bloom handed her a framed photograph of Sweetie Belle. "Stay strong, sis."
Rarity brought them in for a hug. They kept the embrace until it was Scootaloo's turn to walk. Then it was Apple Bloom's, leaving Rarity alone with her thoughts. She took a calming breath.
You're not alone.You have them. They love you, and you them.
Rarity tugged at her collar. After all that time, she never expected that little silver dress to be so damn itchy. She couldn't help but pick at her skin. At the very least, its weight had disappeared. She even looked good wearing a dress meant for her little sister.
Soon enough, she would walk, meet her friends and family, and reclaim a life she thought she had lost.
When Sweetie Belle's name was called, Rarity found herself looking at the stars.
"Rarity, she's far too fragile," her mother scolded. "She's barely met the world."
Rarity pouted. She had been waiting forever to meet her new sister, and now she couldn't even hold her. That was the worst thing she could be told. Ever. Bar none.
Instead, she followed her father as he wheeled her mother to the car. She rushed ahead to open the door. It magically clicked open as she arrived.
For the ride home, she got to spend time with her baby sister in the car seat. She talked, and the baby listened. Then the baby gurgled, and Rarity listened.
"You're gonna love the house," she said. "It has good food, Mom and Dad." She trailed off, thinking of more good things. "Books and TV."
"You can get those anywhere," her father joked. He was met with a weak jab to the arm.
"Oh, Hon, don't be mean," her mother scolded. "Let her gush. She's excited."
“I can show you my toys. We can play dress up…”
It was already late into the night by the time the family returned home. The stars hung in the sky, guiding the exhausted parents up to the house. Rarity bounced up the stairs. She hugged the railing, impatiently tapping her feet and unsubtly demanding her parents to hurry.
To her horror, they were taking the baby to their room and not hers.
“Mooooom!” She whined and stamped her feet. “You said we’d share a room.”
“And you will,” the mother said, her voice weak. “She just needs to get a little bigger first. Then you’ll spend so much time together that you’ll be sick of her.”
“As if!” She turned her nose up.
“Now head to bed, dear. You’ll get many other days with her.”
Rarity nodded and rushed to bed. She couldn’t help but squirm under the covers. Her mind would not let her sleep. Just in the next room over was her newborn sister. She just had to see her.
She lay awake in bed, waiting and fighting sleep. Once she felt the coast was clear, she slipped out from the blankets, grabbed a book from the shelf, and tiptoed her way into her parent’s bedroom. Thankfully, they were already asleep.
Her prize sat in a crib by the window. She cautiously stepped to it, joining her sister under the moonlight.
“Hi, Sweetie Belle,” she whispered, peering into the crib and finding the baby wide awake. “It’s me again.”
Sweetie Belle cooed.
Rarity pulled the book out from under her arm, flipping to a page she had marked earlier. She looked to the stars and tracked a familiar constellation.
“Mama said you were born under this star.” She held the book up to her sister so she could get a better look. Rarity held her finger out, letting Sweetie’s pudgy hand grasp onto it. “I’m your big sis, so be good to me.”
