Our Days are Bright

by penelopunch

First published

Fluttershy and Rarity are undoubtedly very close, but was Nightmare Moon's appearance the first time they'd spoken with each other? Perhaps there was more going on the day they got their cutiemarks than we know of.

On one fateful day so long ago, six young ponies' destinies became inexplicably intertwined. Two in particular, however, discover a sense of being and of purpose that they couldn't have possibly foreseen.

Their days that follow are most certainly bright.


Our Days are Bright is a Rarishy fic featuring transgender self-discovery, and is told through a First Person perspective.

CW for mentions of body dysphoria, familial disputes, and pre-transition pronoun usage (young Fluttershy uses He/Him).

An Earth Pony with Wings

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I don’t want to be here…

I look up at all of the other young pegasi joyfully flying through a set of rings molded out of clouds. Young pegasi attending this year’s Summer Flight Camp, and who are going to be watching my— no, judging my attempts to fly in the same manner fairly soon.

I don’t want to be here…

I shake my head and look down at my hooves, only to be hit with an intense sense of vertigo as I realize that I had meandered a bit too close to the edge of the cloud. The ground is right below me, and it is very, very, very far down. My stomach churns and I fall backwards with a yelp, my own hooves failing me.

I really, really, really don’t want to be here…

I shut my eyes tight and hold them closed until my breathing and rapid heartbeat begin to calm. Once the near-panic attack passes, I crack open my eyes. All at once I notice two girls from school looking at me and giggling. My face adopts a deep shade of shame as I pick myself back up onto my hooves and trot in the other direction.

If there’s anything my time growing up in Cloudsdale has taught me, it’s that I am not a strong flier. If not for the fact that I have wings on my back and the fact that I’m not currently falling through the cloud that I’m pacing around on top of, I wouldn’t even really consider myself a pegasus. I mean, it’s not like I’ve met other kinds of ponies before, but that’s what everyone else in school says about me. “An earth pony with wings” they’ll often say, and I don’t dispute them. What else would you call a pegasus who’s afraid of heights?

“Pathetic, that’s what,” I whisper to myself in mock conversation. “A pathetic excuse for a pegasus with dumb anxiety, dumb wings that don’t work, a dumb personality, a dumb face and a dumb body that’s too big!”

Tears cloud my vision now as my voice rises from a whisper. I just feel anger. Anger and resentment over my… nothing. Everything! Oh… I don’t know what, but it’s infuriating!

“...maybe I should just go ho—OOF!” landing hard on my rear end, I realized that I had accidentally bumped into another pony. It’s a girl just a bit shorter than me, with a cutiemark-less blue coat and a… rainbow mane? Huh. Shaking my head, I pick myself up and mutter a weak “Sorry…” in the hopes that would please her enough to not harass me over the incident.

“Eh, don’t sweat it,” she says in a voice harsh with change, indicating that she’s probably about the same age as me despite the size difference. “Just make sure to pay better attention next ti—” she cuts herself off as she turns fully towards me. “Woah. You’re tall.”

I nod in reply.

“...and a boy?” she ponders quizzically. “Wasn’t expecting that. Your voice was so quiet I could barely hear you. Don’t know any boys that don’t like to shout over me.”

Taking a second longer than last time, I nod again. “Um… yes?” I dig my hooves into the cloud we’re standing on in an attempt to dispel my discomfort.

She breaks out into a wide grin. “That’s cool! I like ponies that try to keep things different. Who wants to be the same as everyone else? Totally boring.” she says with a laugh. “I’m Rainbow Dash, by the way. What’s your name?”

Yeah, totally boring… I think to myself as I awkwardly bump my hoof against the one she held out towards me. “Um, it’s nice to meet you Rainbow Dash. My name is—” I’m suddenly cut off by the sound of a loud whistle being blown. Rainbow Dash gets an excited look on her face at the noise.

“Yes! Flight practice time!” she says as she beats her wings and begins to lift off the cloud. “If you weren’t flying the course just now then we must be in the same group for it. Come on, I’ll race ya up there!”

Her energy is infectious, dispelling the worry and doubt that was at the forefront of my mind just a minute ago. Without thinking I unfurl my wings and get ready to take flight.

Taking a deep breath, I beat my wings several times with as much force as I can muster. It’s a struggle, yet I manage to actually lift off the cloud! I gasp in surprise and look over towards Rainbow Dash, only she’s no longer where she just was.

In the time it took me to simply lift off the cloud she’s already made it most of the way up to the course. She’s fast. Really fast. I trail after her in shock, and arrive about a minute after she herself touched down. She gives me a puzzled look. “Uh… you did hear me say that was a race, right?”

I nod, a grin plastered to my face. It might not be the most appropriate reaction, but I still feel proud of myself for what I was able to accomplish just now.

“OK, because I was worried I might have just flown off in a rush without having actually said with my mouth what I wanted to say with my brain. My mom says I do that a lot,” Rainbow’s wings fidget as she speaks. “Anyway! You obviously need to practice more than I do, so I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll find you later after practice so we can hang out! See ya!”

She gives me another awkward hoof bump before flying off to a more difficult section of the course.

I sigh and look at the first ring floating in front of me. I’m actually here now, and ponies are going to know if I can’t perform as well as everyone else. Yet, for some reason that thought doesn’t bother me as much as it should. Perhaps that’s due to Rainbow’s infectious energy still working its way out of my system, but I decide to let the positive thoughts flow.

Why shouldn’t I want to improve myself? I think proudly. Everyone starts everything at a different skill level. Even if mine’s a bit lower than the others that doesn’t mean I can’t improve! It doesn’t mean that I have to stick with all the things I dislike about myself!

Preparing myself, I lift off the cloud and float up towards the ring.


It always turns out like this…

Shortly after my pathetic and failed attempt to fly the course I find myself grounded and wrapped up tight in one of the camp’s various flags, having been stripped from its pole by a clumsy earth pony who dared to dream it could be anything but.

The two pegasi who I happened to land rather ungracefully next to still haven’t let up their verbal assault at my expense, although I started to tune them out a while ago. It’s the same as every other time: tune them out and don’t retaliate ever. Eventually they’ll get bored and leave me alone until the next day when the process repeats itself.

I wrap myself tighter in the flag and push my head further down into the cloud. Any attempt I can make to pretend I’m not in my current situation is a welcome one.

Just breathe. Keep breathing and it’ll be over soon. Keep breathing and then you can pick yourself back up and go home. That’s for the best. Flying is for pegasi, not— Wait, why do I hear Rainbow Dash’s voice?

“You think you’re such a big shot? Why don’t you prove it?” tuning back into the world outside of my head, it seems the boys who were making fun of me have had their attention drawn towards something else.

“What do ya have in mind?” comes the energetic reply of the brash young pegasus I just parted ways with. Ah. That makes sense. I’ve only known her a short while but I’ve learned that Rainbow Dash is very good at capturing other ponies’ attention. Why is she here, though?

“A race! Something even you could beat us in,” the second of the bullies snorted out in reply. “That is if you can even make it to the finish line! Eh, Rainbow Crash?

“Oh, you are so on. Better call your moms to come pick you up from camp now! I doubt they’ll be able to understand you through all your blubbering after I kick your flanks!” Rainbow shoots back. She gave just as adversarial of an answer as I was expecting from her.

She’s not scared to fight back at all…

“Fine! Meet us out behind the cabins as soon as practice ends. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure everyone else will be right there in the audience to watch you crash and burn,” the first bully promises before I feel the cloud shift, their weight lifting off of it.

I sigh in relief as the verbal assault seems to have well-and-truly stopped. I keep myself bundled up in the flag and buried in the cloud until my breathing calms. That was the plan, at least. A sharp tug on my tail lifts me up out of the cloud and back onto my rear end. A second later and I’m face-to-face with a frustrated Rainbow Dash.

“What the heck was that? I left you alone for like 30 seconds! What even happened?” she questions as she begins to unwrap me from the flag. There’s clear frustration in her voice as she raises it at me. Frustration and worry, and I don’t know which is worse.

Once I’m fully unwrapped and there’s nothing hiding me away from the rest of the world she sits back down, staring me down with narrowed eyes.

“I, um… my hoof hit the…” I try to explain, but my voice comes out much shakier than I had intended it. I close my mouth and turn my head away, hoping that much would be enough to appease her.

“Dude, that doesn’t explain anything!” she shouts at me, frustration winning out over worry.

“I don’t—” the words catch in my throat, but I choke them out with a sob. A sob. I’m crying. Weeping. Waves of warm tears run down my cheeks as my mind races with a million thoughts, some invisible dam having burst with the realization that Rainbow Dash was mad at me.

“I d-don’t… it’s not fair, Rainbow! I don’t know why they were doing that to me!” I shout as I turn on her.

“Woah!” Rainbow Dash steps back in shock. I match it with my own step forward. “H-hey it’s O—”

“No, it’s not OK!” I shout over her. “They were making fun of me! Everyone’s a-always making fun of me! I don’t get it! I’m not trying to be different from them! I don’t want to be different from them! I want to fly t-too!”

I’m not used to raising my voice this much, and I’m starting to sound hoarse. It’s all too much, but I’m not sure that I can stop it. I’m not sure that I want to. I try to voice all the thoughts in my head as they surface, but there’s just too many of them.

“I’m a pegasus, aren’t I?” Do I look like an earth pony to you? “I’m trying! D-despite everything!” The worst of it happens at school. “No one helps me! No one cares!” You helped me. “I barely know you!” I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do this to you. “I w-want to go back home.” The only ponies I have to disappoint there are my parents. “I tried… I really tried this time…” I’m exhausted. “M-my hoof hit the ring. The very f-first ring!” You’re a really talented flier, Rainbow. “I couldn’t stop tumbling.” You’re so good at standing up for yourself, Rainbow. “I hit the flag on the way back down.” You’re so lucky, Rainbow. “My body’s too big…”

My voice peters out, and I collapse back onto the cloud with silent sobs. As my racing mind begins to slow I’m left with a single agonizing thought: Rainbow probably thinks I’m a freak now.

As if to confirm my suspicions, she doesn’t say anything for a while. I shut my eyes and try once again to control my breathing. I’m not having much luck.

“You’re right, that isn’t fair!”

Huh?

I pluck my messy face from my hooves and look up at her. “W-what was that?” I ask, my voice grating against my throat.

“I said that you’re right! It’s not fair that they’re making fun of you just cause you’re not the strongest flier!” Rainbow Dash exclaims with her chest. “I used to get bullied like that back before I figured out I could do something about it. I realize not everyone can do something about it, though, and it obviously hurts you a lot when it happens. I’m glad I stepped in to send them packing.”

My mind is having trouble processing what she’s saying. “So you’re not… mad at me?” I ask.

“Nah, I’m not,” she waves off my worry with a hoof. “Don’t worry about blowing up like that, I can handle it. It didn’t really seem directed at me anyway.”

“It kind of was…” I whisper to myself.

“Did you say something?” she questions, moving in closer.

“Oh! Uh... no, I didn’t,” I reply, shaking my head. It doesn’t feel great to lie to Rainbow, but I really don’t want her to know what all I was thinking during my outburst. I’m not sure she’d understand.

“Oh, OK. Anyway, it was probably good that what happened just now happened. You feel better now, yeah? Lighter?” she asks in a way that’s less of a question and more of a statement.

“I, um…” I think for a second as my tears start to dry up. She’s right! I do feel lighter. Like there’s less of a… well, everything about my life that was holding me down before. I can tell that those things are all still there, but they don’t feel as oppressive as they did a few minutes ago. “Yes, I think so…”

“Awesome! Crying isn’t cool, but I do always feel better after it happens,” she says, flashing me her typical toothy grin.

I stand up and start to wipe the remaining tears from my eyes. “I don’t cry often… I mean, I want to sometimes but I usually just… can’t. I don’t know why I just did that.”

“I know why. It’s because those guys are jerks! And all those other ponies you were talking about who made fun of you are jerks too! Jerks make other ponies cry cause they think it’ll make themselves feel better,” she states matter-of-factly. “But you’re not a jerk. You’re cool! Cooler and more awesome than they could ever hope to be!”

I’m not sure if I’m all that…

“And I’m proud to call you my friend!”

Wait, what?

Rainbow Dash quickly darts next to me and places a hoof on my shoulder. “With you by my side we’re like the two coolest ponies in Cloudsdale! No, in all of Equestria!”

I shrug her hoof off and take a couple of off-balance steps away. A thoughtless protest escapes my lips. “I don’t— That’s not—”

“What’s the problem?” Rainbow questions innocently.

I swallow the growing lump of anxiety in my throat. “I, uh, I don’t think that I would be a very good friend,” I say, instinctively unfurling my wings as I'm hit with a sudden desire to flee.

“Well, why not? You seem like a good friend to me,” comes her retort. Baseless, especially since I just blew up at her for no good reason.

“I’m just not good at anything! I’ve never been someone’s friend before, either, and I doubt that’d go any different!” my voice is harsher than I meant it to sound.

“Who cares!” Rainbow Dash fires back. “I’m telling you right now that I think you’d be a good friend, so where’s the harm in trying? I’m a good judge of these things, you should trust me.”

She finishes off her retort by puffing her chest out proudly and beating it with a hoof, a smile plastered to her face.

I let out a huff and trot a short distance away, waving at Rainbow in assurance when she raises concerns over me leaving. Once she nods and quiets her protests I look down at my hooves to think, because I really need to think.

I’ve never had a friend before… and Rainbow is really cool… but what if I blow up at her again? What if she thinks I’m a weirdo who does nothing but see the bad in things? What if she realizes that she was wrong for being friends with a pegasus who’s so bad at flying when she herself is so good at it? What if she ends up hating me…

I shake my head and try to think about it from a different point of view, a Rainbow Dash point of view. Well… where’s the point in giving up before even trying? I’m wanting to avoid losing this, but it won’t become any sort of friendship at all if I don’t accept it. With her at my side, I was able to fly even the little bit that I could earlier. Who’s to say that’s the most we could do for each other if we were friends? Rainbow herself thinks I’d be a good friend, and I should trust her!

I stamp my hoof with conviction. No, I can’t give up on this.

“OK, Rainbow, I think I want to try,” I say, trotting back towards her. “If you’ll have me… I think I’d really enjoy being friends with you.”

“Yes! I knew you’d come around!” she exclaims, launching off the cloud and using her wings to perform a quick backflip. “Don’t worry, you won’t regret this. First order of business, kicking the flanks of those two jerks who were making fun of you.”

Looking around, I realize that I no longer see any pegasi flying the course. Flight practice ended a good few minutes ago. Those two are likely waiting for Rainbow behind the cabins, like they had promised earlier.

“Oh, um, I’d much rather just… go anywhere else…” I say. I try to slink past Rainbow before she grabs me by the shoulders and whips me around. She seems to really enjoy doing that.

“No way, dude! We’re gonna go prove to these guys that you’re more than what they said about you!” she grunts as she begins to push me in the direction of the cabins. “You’re coming with me so you can see the looks on their faces when your friend leaves them in the dust!”

My friend… the thought alone puts a big smile on my face.

Relenting, I let her drag me towards the cabins. Before long a makeshift flight track comes into view, complete with a starting and finish line, bleachers and an audience to fill those bleachers. An audience filled to the brim with both ponies I’ve never met and ponies who have caused me no small amount of trouble throughout my life.

Although, If I’m being honest with myself right now… I don’t really care. Rainbow wants me to be here for her so I’m going to be here for her. She’s going to win this.

We both land at the starting line next to the two boys who were mocking us before.

“Finally decided to show up, huh? We were just about to call it! Figured you crashed into something on your way here and couldn’t make it,” laughs one of them.

“Nah, we had stuff to do. Here now, though! Just in time to win this thing,” says Rainbow, expressing herself confidently.

Seeing an open seat, I make my way over to the bleachers. “Hey, wait! Where are you going?”

I look back at Rainbow in confusion. “Um… I’m going to find a seat? To watch the race?”

“No, no. You need a front row seat for this. Here!” Rainbow rushes off before returning a second later, this time holding a checkered flag. “You’re gonna be front and center! Wave the flag for us and everything!”

A sense of panic hits me as I realize what she’s asking for.

“Really? You want him to start the race? Really think he can handle that?” one of the bullies teases with a snicker.

Rainbow wheels around to face him, anger apparent all over her face. “Of course he can! Besides, he needs the closest view possible of me winning this thing!” she shouts, then places herself at the starting line.

I reluctantly lean down and grab the flag in my mouth, taking a couple of practice swings to get used to its weight. Nervously, I take my place in front of the starting line. There’s a couple of sneers from the crowd, likely from ponies I go to school with. I do my best to ignore them and focus on the task ahead of me.

A few more barbs are thrown between Rainbow and the two bullies as they position themselves next to her along the line. After several long seconds one of them lifts their head up. “Hey! We’re waiting!” he shouts.

Oh! I’ve got to— OK, here we go.

Alongside several snickers from the crowd, I lift the flag up above my head. Closing my eyes, I breathe in through my nose. I’m going to change. Rainbow Dash is my friend and I’m going to change, with her at my side. I breathe out, open my eyes and swing the flag downward, signaling the race to begin.

The three racers fly past me, leaving me spinning in place. I recover, but I’m left feeling dizzy, vision jumbled and legs unsteady. Just as everyone in the crowd turns to follow the racers I take a step forward… only I don’t feel it hit cloud. My hoof keeps going, further than I was expecting, and the rest of my body tumbles forward after it.

Before my brain can process exactly what’s happening, I’m suddenly staring up at the flight track and watching as it gets further and further away. The persistent bustle of noise from Summer Flight Camp and Cloudsdale itself is quickly replaced by the unfamiliar sound of wind whistling harshly past my ears.

Rainbow..?

An Odd Sense of Clarity

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Sky. Ground. Sky. Ground. Sky—

Opening up my wings in a panic was a bad idea. Amateurishly attempting to catch an updraft to stop my fall was even worse. Rather than allowing me to glide safely down to the ground or even lift myself back up to Cloudsdale, my unsteady wings caught a large gust in just the perfect way to send me spiraling head over hoof.

I don’t know how long I’ve been falling and my senses are all overloaded. I’m certain I’m screaming, but I can’t hear myself over the roar of the wind. In truth, my voice might have given out in time with my stomach. The constant flipping and the rotating visuals everytime I open my tear-filled eyes is all too much, and I had quickly lost a hold on my lunch.

It’s hard for me to form any coherent thoughts in my state, but a handful manage to make their way through the storm of my mind.

What’s happening? Everything stings; My wings. My eyes. My throat. Am I falling? Why hasn’t anyone caught me yet? Where’s Rainbow? Am I going to die? Mom? Dad? Zephyr?

I flail my legs rapidly, and attempt to grab onto a few small clouds as I fall past them. All I manage to do is pull them apart in my panic. One more flip, and the ground is very close now.

Too close.

Realization of my situation hits me all at once, and my mind fills with an odd sense of clarity in these last few moments. Oh, I get it now.

The leaves of the trees seem to brush against my coat lovingly— apologetically, as I plummet past them.

I didn’t deserve these wings.

I close my eyes.

… Um…

Having previously cleared my mind before the impact, the thought didn’t come to me for a while that… something was supposed to have happened.

Aren’t I supposed to be in pain? A lot of pain? Or… maybe I’m dead? That’s it, I must be dead. I’m dead and it was quick and painless. And I suppose death is just a constant cycle of thoughts about death and whether or not I’m avoiding thinking about the fact that I’m somehow still alive. Oh.

I instinctively let out a heavy breath that I didn’t realize I was holding and attempt an intake. I fall into a sudden coughing fit as my shredded throat and lungs refuse to work. Involuntarily opening my eyes as the fit goes on, I see that I haven’t actually touched the ground yet. I’m resting on a floating bed of pinks, blues and yellows. Some sort of mobile grouping of colors.

Insects… my mind conjures once the coughing fit dies down. I clear the tears from my eyes to get a better look at my situation. It’s a… migrating colony of colorful flying insects? They’re… pretty! I wonder what they’re called?

The group begins to break apart, and I flap my wings to keep momentum with them. I try to ignore the pain as I do so. Gliding up close to one to get a better look, I can see just how correct my previous thought was. These creatures are gorgeous! The shape of their wings, the color, the intricate and natural design, their delicate nature and the strength to save my life by grouping together…

…They saved my life…

The thought echoes around my head as I slowly settle onto the ground proper. They… saved my life… I’m alive…

The insects encircle me as I’m lost in thought, and my eyes drift around in wonder. Tears begin to spill down my cheeks once again as the reality of it truly hits me. I stretch my hoof out, and as if on cue the same one I was observing earlier lands upon it.

“Thank you…” I say with the most genuine gratitude I’ve ever felt. Seemingly accepting my thanks, the insect flutters its wings and flies off. The rest of its colony spread out among the trees and bushes.

Watching them as they go, I finally take note of my surroundings. A forest. Or… perhaps a glade? Cloudsdale schools don’t teach too much about the surface, but they’re interesting enough lessons to me that I can recognize that much. Trees naturally grow in large groups. Large enough groups are considered forests. Forests are littered all over the surface.

Forests are easy to get lost in… the thought enters— unwelcome, into my mind. I could be anywhere…

Before that thought could inspire my fifteenth panic attack of the day, my ear catches the sound of singing. Not pony singing, no. Birds.

My eyes drift over the branches above me until I spot what I’m looking for. A bird’s nest! Cute little baby birds stick their heads out towards their parents, who are giving out the most gorgeous calls. We get birds up in Cloudsdale, of course, but these ones look completely different. These birds are just as colorful as the insects, and just as gorgeous in their own way.

More fly by overhead, and I follow them until I notice the heads of some small furry creatures poking out of a hole in a tree. I stop moving as they spot me, my breathing slowing to a crawl. A few moments pass, but they seemingly determine that I’m not a threat. They come bounding down the tree and over towards me, their bushy tails trailing behind them.

These must be squirrels! I realize. They make their homes inside of trees and forage for food around them. I didn’t know they were so quick!

Bunnies too, I recognize from books, begin to hop out of the bushes and make their way across the glade. They’re so, so much cuter seeing one now face-to-face.

I stand and stare in awe at all of the forest creatures that have suddenly made an appearance. They’re all positively adorable! Seeing them all, my mind finds a measure of peace that has been eluding me all day. I settle my legs underneath me with a sigh and just… watch them.

The animals notice it before I do, but after a second I hear what has suddenly made them all stop moving. A loud and violent boom echoes across the sky, shaking the ground beneath me. I let out a yelp of panic.

What was that!? I think in terror as the animals all dart to-and-fro towards their various hiding places around me.

Turning around, I see what appears to be a rainbow— a big rainbow, making its way across the sky. A brief thought of the friend I left up in Cloudsdale enters my mind before the shaking in the ground intensifies. In a panic I launch myself into a bush and cower with a group of bunnies. They look just as scared as I feel.

Eventually the shaking stops, and I pick myself up out of the bush. Looking up at the sky, I’m shocked to see just how clear it is. The colorful wave must have cleared away most of the clouds the pegasi had positioned in the sky this morning.

“What in… What in Celestia’s name was that?” I ask, the question directed at no one in particular. So much has been happening today, and it’s all becoming very difficult to process. The quiet that fills the glade after things settle reminds me of the bunnies in the bushes, and all of the other critters that went into hiding.

…and who must all still be worried that something bad is about to happen.

A sudden sense of urgency fills me at the thought. I have to let them know that things are fine now.

This place… it’s their home. They deserve to feel safe in their home.

Over the next few minutes I find myself rooting through various bushes, branches, holes, clouds and even ponds. I find all of the animals in their hiding spots quickly enough, but what I’m truly proud of is just how calm and collected I’ve been able to keep myself for them. The last thing they need right now is more panic.

The animals all settle down once I assure them that things are alright, and that the danger has passed. Each new one I help follows me from their hiding spot and attempts to find their panicked friends so I can assist them too, and I’m more than happy to.

Once all of the animals I can find are calmed and the urgency that was driving me is no longer present, my legs suddenly collapse out from underneath me. I try to pick myself up once more, but I’m unable to find the strength. It hits me just how utterly exhausted I am, even though I’m certain it’s no later than noon.

My vision begins to blur as I look around at all of the gathered critters. Every last one that I helped gather around me, looking at me with… respect?

Huh… That’s new… I think to myself before yawning.

My heart fills with pride as they all encircle me, finding their own places by my side to lay down and rest. It’s almost as if…

Almost as if they’re telling me this is my home too…

I giggle at the thought as I rest my chin on the grass. A genuine smile spreads itself across my cheeks and refuses to leave. My eyelids close as I listen to the calm, rhythmic breathing around me.

There’s just something about what I’m feeling right now. I feel… warm. I feel loved. I feel like I belong.

“Goodnight, everyone…” I whisper to them all. “Thank you…”

Barely even recognizing the tingling warmth spreading across my flank, my mind slips away into peaceful unconsciousness.


“But he’s hurt!”

My first thought upon waking up is to take note of just how dry my mouth is. My second is that my cloud bed isn’t as soft as it normally is, which is strange. My third thought is the realization that there’s somepony shouting, and even in my delirious state I can tell that it’s not a voice I recognize.

“Y-you beasts! Let me pass right this instant!” the pony shouts, their voice shaking.

I crack open my eyes, which proves to be a much more difficult task than I had anticipated. Judging from the color of the sky, the day had passed from afternoon into evening. Slowly tilting my head I recognize the trees and my animal friends, and I realize that everything that had happened earlier in the day wasn’t just my usual anxiety-induced dream. Looking beyond all of the critters, I spot what I assume to be the source of the voice.

A young pony just a bit shorter than me stands on-edge, facing down the crowd of animals that are surrounding me in a protective circle. It takes a second to recognize their coat’s natural color, as the pure white of it is stained heavily with dirt as well as various cuts and bruises. Their purple mane too— Oh! White and purple are a very pretty combination, actually!— has lost every last trace of what its usual shape must look like, instead splayed out in every possible direction in a hopeless mess. This pony has certainly had a rough day, though I could also say the same for myself.

The pony huffs in frustration. “I am telling all of you. That pony is hurt. You need to let me help him!” they say in an attempt to reason with the angry crowd of critters. In response, the animals let out a number of protective cries and squeeze tighter around me. The pony’s expression only grows more agitated, and their horn— wait. What? Their horn?

The unicorn’s horn ignites in a light blue aura, and I hear a crack as a small but hefty branch floats down from the tree, coated in the same shade of blue. It floats threateningly in the air between the two parties.

“If you do not let me pass right this instant, then you will give me no choice!” they say, giving the branch a couple of swings. A couple of the squirrels look at each other nervously, and suddenly I’m inspired to action.

“Wait!” I shout. Or… try to, at least. I can barely find my voice and it just comes out as an involuntary croak. It’s enough to catch the unicorn’s attention, though, and suddenly they’re addressing me.

“Oh! You’re awake, thank goodness!” they say in a rather overdramatic fashion. “Are you quite alright?”

“I…” my voice fails again, throat too dry to form any proper sounds. Instead I decide to stand up, and my muscles scream in response. I collapse back to the ground with a yelp, and my animal friends rush to my side.

The unicorn is forced to keep their distance as the critters help to pick me back up and support me as I hobble over to the small brook nearby. I reach my head down and take a few greedy gulps of water. It tastes different from the water extracted directly from the clouds in Cloudsdale, but not a bad kind of different. It’s simply a new kind of different.

Having wetted my throat, I turn back to the unicorn. “Please… don’t hurt the animals. I think they’re just trying to protect me…” I plead with them, my voice finally escaping my throat.

“Well… of course. I wouldn’t dream of actually causing them harm,” they reply. To prove their point they toss the branch away. “I can’t say that I’ve ever seen animals err, protecting a pony before and so this situation has caught me a bit off-guard. I happened to spot you collapsed in the clearing as I was passing by and, if you will forgive me for being blunt, you don’t look good. You need to have those injuries looked at.”

Injuries…? What injuries? I think as I look down at myself. My legs are covered in just as many scrapes, bruises and cuts as the pony in front of me. Oh… No wonder I feel so sore…

“Alas, your little… friends here have been preventing me from assisting you with those. Could you please call them off so I can at least inspect you closer?” they ask.

They speak in a manner unlike any other pony I’ve met before, as if everything they say is part of some kind of theatrical performance. The strangeness of it has given me a bit of pause, but my general impression is that they truly don’t mean any harm.

I look down at the little critters surrounding me and assure them that it’s fine to let this other pony pass.

“Ah! Thank you very much,” the unicorn says as the animals reluctantly break apart their protective ring.

They begin to trot towards me, and as they close the distance I can better make out their features. Their eyes are a vibrant blue, complementing the rest of their natural colors, but they’re framed by heavy eyebags. And although they’re trying their best to hide it their steps are uneven as well, likely brought on by their own rough state. Their cutiemark is… no, it doesn’t seem like they have one.

At least we have that in common, I think to myself as they stop right in front of me.

They begin to reach for one of my front legs, but I pull it away on instinct. “Oh, apologies,” they say, looking up at me. “I merely wish to inspect your injuries. May I?”

I scan their face for any last-minute signs of deceit, but I don’t notice any. They just seem tired. I nod for them to continue and offer my leg forward. They take it with a grateful smile and begin inspecting my cuts and bruises. As they do so, my thoughts begin to drift towards the nature of the unicorn in front of me.

Seeing them this close, I realize just what I’ve been doing this entire time. I’ve been referring to this pony strictly as “they” and “them”, and it’s easy at this distance to tell exactly why I’ve been unconsciously doing so.

Their features lack any sort of… gender about them, same as their voice I’m now realizing. I can tell that this pony is a bit older than me, maybe by one or two years, and I was taught that young ponies at that age typically begin to show physical changes that point one way or the other in regards to their gender. Not this pony, though. Their body is smaller and lithe, and their features undefined.

Maybe it’s a unicorn thing, I think to myself as I eye the horn on top of their head.

Thinking about all of this… my thoughts inevitably shift into uncomfortable territory, and I suddenly begin to feel very self-conscious about my own body. Too big compared to this pony next to me. Too… wrong. I pull my wing back as they grab it. I really don’t want them to touch me anymore.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I?” they ask, concerned over my reaction. I don’t think I can say anything right now so I softly shake my head, my gaze transfixed on a random tree in the distance. “Well, alright then. I must say though, how do injuries like this even occur? It’s almost as if you fell from the sky or something.”

The tree has a lot of leaves. They’re all very green.

The unicorn sighs. “Regardless, I believe you should be fine. Some simple first aid and bed rest should do you good, and I do mean bed rest. I can’t imagine the ground is all that cozy based on how you were struggling earlier.”

They keep talking.

“Is your home nearby?” they ask.

I shake my head.

“Where exactly do you live?”

“Your parents’ names?”

I look down.

“...Your name?”

I shuffle my hooves.

The unicorn takes a few moments to respond after that point. “Hmm… well, I certainly can’t leave you alone here in the forest with the state you’re in. Come along!” they command.

I lift my head and watch as they trot a short distance away, following the brook upstream. They turn back around once they notice I’m not following them, and I look back down to avoid eye contact. I know what kind of expression they’ll be wearing at this point anyway, so I'd much rather just not even bother.

Please leave. Please, the thoughts enter my head merely to fill the silence. I’d understand. I wouldn’t want to deal with… this, either.

Hearing them trot softly back to my side, I hold my breath. They stop just a wing’s length away and stand there quietly for what feels like an eternity.

Please…

“My name is Rarity,” they finally say, their voice unexpectedly gentle. My gaze drifts over their hooves; dirty and cracked. “I’m not sure if you can tell right now… but I’m an absolute mess."

They laugh at that, and I spare them a glance. It’s the kind of laugh I heard my parents using after Zephyr was born.

“It’s funny, really. I normally hate the dirt— despise it, even. I’ve been dragged through it all day, and yet… I’m happy that I was,” they continue, lifting up one of their hooves to inspect its marred surface. “It was scary, and I was unsure what was going to happen to me… but after everything I believe that it has given me an opportunity to change something.”

An opportunity to change… my thoughts echo as one of the squirrels wraps its tail around my leg. I give the top of its head a couple of light scratches, and it squeaks happily at me.

“...For the better?” I ask, just barely loud enough for the other pony to hear me. They giggle softly at the question.

“Yes. For the better,” they reply. “Only with a little bit more effort, though.”

A sigh escapes their lips at that. “Anyway, my point is that I know you’re struggling. You’re far from home and you’re hurt. Having a random unicorn show up and start pestering you probably hasn’t helped much either, but… I think that's OK.”

"...For you to be pestering me?" I ask, joking despite myself.

"For you to be scared," they clarify.

I tense up at the accusation, and force myself to meet their gaze. To my surprise, their expression doesn't carry the trademark judgement of my peers. The unico— no. Rarity instead wears an expression of simple understanding. The rebuttal I was preparing dies in my throat.

“It’s OK for things to be tough right now. For you to be unsure,” they continue. “It’s OK, because… I think that’s what life is. Things are going to be scary and tough and dirty, and we have to be OK with that. Mostly OK, that is. Personally I can’t wait to take a nice long bath.”

Seeing the look I’m giving them, they smile sheepishly. “Sorry, moving on… It’s also OK to accept help when it's offered to you. I promise you that I’m not going to lead you anywhere strange. Right now what we both need most is some first-aid and a roof over our heads. Do you think you can trust me long enough to get you patched up, at least?”

I turn back to my animal friends as Rarity awaits my response. I only just met them all earlier today, but to all of those cute little critters I’m like family. They told me in no uncertain words that I belong here. Maybe…

…Maybe I should learn to trust more… like they did for me…

“Um… yes. Yes, I think that I can do that,” I give my reply. Rarity simply smiles at that and turns to follow the brook once again. I give one last goodbye to my animal friends before following after.

“Thank you again, everyone. I promise that I’ll be back to visit again soon, OK?” I assure them. They all wave me off with various chatters and squeaks. A smile can’t help but find its way onto my face after everything. I lean down and scoop as many of them into a hug as I can manage. “Goodbye for now!” I tell them before dropping them back onto the ground.

I turn around and trot after Rarity, who stopped to wait for me. “Truth be told… that was one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen,” they tell me as I reach them. I blush at that and try to change the subject.

“So… Rarity?” I inquire as we begin to make our way towards our destination. They hum and signal with a look to continue with my question. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Ah!” comes the overly-theatrical response that I’m still having trouble growing accustomed to. “Yes, well, my Nana lives nearby. I’ve been staying with her for a while, and I was actually heading over there when I found you passed out just now. I figure it’s the best place for you to stay for the night.”

I digest that information as we continue on our way.

Their relative lives in the woods? Is that normal?

Eventually my thoughts turn back to my traveling companion, however. Specifically their name. Her name might be more appropriate, though. Rarity isn’t exactly a name I would expect a boy to have, and it’s not like I have any more clues than that. Asking which pronouns they prefer seems rude for some reason. It’s not a question I’ve ever heard anyone at school ask, anyway.

Maybe I can figure this out if I probe a bit further.

“Rarity. That’s a very pretty name. Very… feminine?” I blurt out with as much social grace as I can muster. Rarity gives me an amused expression.

“Well, I should hope so! I did pick it myself, after all,” comes the matter-of-fact reply.

‘Picked it myself’? What? How does that even… My mind is having trouble processing that statement. That isn’t something that I’ve ever heard a pegasus up in Cloudsdale do before. Is that something ponies do on the surface? They pick their own names?

“...Huh,” is all I can say after that revelation. At least I know now that Rarity picked that name specifically, so it’s likely that feminine terms are appropriate. Her it is.

Rarity suddenly rushes forward as we near a break in the treeline. “Here we are! Come on, we’re almost there!” she shouts. I pick up my pace and rush after her.

Breaking past the treeline, we both enter into a large open field. The brook continues onward, winding underneath a small bridge that connects both sides of a dirt path. On one end of the path, off in the distance, I see the buildings of a quaint little town. On the other end, backed by the treeline of a much larger and darker forest than the one we just left, sits what appears to be our destination.

A simple cottage, framed by the gold of the evening sun. The sight causes me to slow my pace. It’s beautiful in a way I’m having a hard time describing.

It seems so peaceful… I think as I take in all of its features. The surface is different from how I imagined. Ponies can just live like this? They can just… exist?

I'm suddenly hit by the realization that I’ll eventually need to leave and go back home to Cloudsdale… and for some reason that thought leaves me terrified. It’s where my home is, my family, Rainbow and everything else that I’ve experienced and come to cherish throughout my life. It’s all there, back up in Cloudsdale.

…All of it…

I think I’m suffocating.

Seeing the look on my face, Rarity steps in front of me and holds out a hoof. “Remember, it’s OK to be scared.” she assures me. I stare at her hoof as I take in her words.

“Just a little bit of effort… Right?” I ask in a whisper.

She blinks at that and smiles at me. It’s a toothy kind of grin, and far more natural than the practiced ones she’d given me earlier. I’m reminded of Rainbow Dash.

I spare it no second thought, and hoof-in-hoof we make our way towards the cottage.

A Part of Me That Will Stay the Same

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“Rarity!”

No sooner do we reach the cottage than does the door burst open. I let out a small squeak of shock and duck behind my unicorn companion as my vision is suddenly filled with a bright light. I’m terrified, but Rarity doesn’t seem the least bit nervous.

“Hi, Nana Lily,” she says as the light engulfs her.

“Where have you been?” the light asks, its voice strained with worry. “Your teacher stopped by to check up on you! She said that you missed class this morning! I’ve been worried sick!”

This is Rarity's relative? I ponder, still shielding my eyes. That’s a pony? What’s with the light? I can barely see!

“I missed you too, Nana,” Rarity responds. “But, erm, your horn’s doing the thing again.”

The voice behind the light begins sniffling. “I know. I know. I’m sorry, I just— I thought… I got a little overwhelmed.”

“I know, Nana,” comes Rarity’s voice. She drops her typical theatrical tone as I hear her fight back tears of her own. “Don’t worry… I’m here. I’m not gonna leave.”

After a few seconds of silence the light begins to die down, lessening in intensity until it’s left at a dull glow. Rubbing my eyes I slowly peek my head around Rarity’s legs.

She’s being hugged tightly by another pony— Another unicorn… I’m gonna have to get used to that.— one much older than the two of us probably would be combined. With her well-trimmed purple coat, and styled mane of pinks and purples, she doesn’t really give off the impression of a pony who would live out near the wilderness like she does. Even the flower depicted in her cutie mark seems to be mismatched with this place. Too fancy-looking.

Eventually she lifts her head, horn still glowing with a soft pink light, and releases Rarity from her hug. “Where have you been, dear?” she asks the younger unicorn.

“It’s a bit of a long story…” Rarity responds. She steps out of the way and picks me up onto my hooves. “Can we go inside and get cleaned up first?”

I smile sheepishly as the older unicorn notices me for the first time. Her eyes open wide in shock as she looks me over, and open even wider when she looks back towards Rarity. It seems she hadn’t even noticed the state the younger unicorn was in until now. The glow from her horn intensifies slightly.

“Oh my goodness…” she gasps. “Yes, of course! Come inside, the both of you!”

She ushers us both inside the cottage, and I find myself standing in a cozy living space. I have the quick realization that this is the first time I’ve ever been inside of a building that wasn’t partially made out of clouds in some way. The floorboards creak when I take a step forward to look around.

Knick-knacks and framed photos dot the walls and rest atop shelves, surrounding chairs and a couch. Simple furnishings for simple living… or it would give that impression if there weren’t fabrics of all colors and sewing supplies of all kinds strewn about the room.

Before I can ponder the mess, Rarity grabs my hoof and sits me down on the couch.

“Stay right here, I’m going to get the first-aid kit,” she tells me before darting past the stairs and down the hallway. The older unicorn calls out to her, her concern apparent.

“Oh, sweetheart I can—”

“Don’t worry, Nana! I’ve got it!” comes the reply from further down the hallway.

Suddenly I’m left alone in the room with Rarity’s relative, whose sigh is accompanied with a brief flash from her horn. My eyes drift down towards the floor to avoid being blinded again.

I hear her settle into a chair across from me, and it doesn’t take long for the questions to come.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you at any of the school events before,” she begins. I instinctively tense up upon hearing her words. “Are you one of Rarity’s friends?” she asks.

I shake my head at that, but speak up after a few seconds once it becomes clear she’s waiting on a more detailed answer. “No ma’am, we only just met,” I tell her, truthfully.

She seems to think on that for a second before continuing her questioning. “I see. Would you mind telling me your name, dear?”

I nod and tell her my— Wait…

Should I… tell her my name? I think as I retreat back into my mind. It’s a simple request, and it would be a simple response, but for some reason I’m hesitating.

It’s just my name. It’s nothing special— plenty of ponies know what it is! But… what would she think of it? What would Rarity think of it? She told me she chose her own name. I don’t—

“Butterfly!”

My thoughts are interrupted by a shout from the hallway. Rarity rushes out of it carrying a first-aid kit with her magic.

“Bu-Butterfly?” I ask, startled and confused.

“Your name! At least, that’s what you told me it was when I had asked before. ‘Butterfly Wishes’, you said,” she states as she approaches, her look expectant.

I don’t really understand what’s happening, but I’m caught up in the moment and don’t want to disappoint her. I nod along with what she’s saying.

“Y-yeah… Yes. That’s right.” I say, this time directed at the older unicorn. I can’t see how she reacts to that as Rarity moves between us, but another question comes soon after.

“Do you live anywhere near—”

“Nana? Would you mind grabbing a wet washcloth for us? I think some of these cuts need cleaning,” Rarity interrupts as she pops open the first-aid kit.

“...Of course, dear,” she says after a few seconds. “I’ll fix up some drinks as well. I won’t be long.”

The older unicorn gets up out of her chair and heads into a separate room, likely the kitchen. I’m thankful for the reprieve from the questions, and let out a sigh of relief.

Rarity gives me an apologetic look as she sits down next to me. “I’m sorry for that. I promise my Nana Lily’s a nice pony… she just worries,” she whispers. I shake my head in reply.

“No, it’s OK. I understand,” I tell her. After all, if there’s any kind of situation for her relative to be worried over, this would probably be it.

She nods and begins treating my wounds, placing a bandage on my cheek.

I know that she’s trying to make sure I’m properly cared for, being older than me and all, but between Rarity and Rainbow Dash I’ve had a lot of physical contact today. More than I’m used to. The thought brings a blush to my face, and I’m thankful that Rarity doesn’t seem to notice my embarrassment in her focus.

A few seconds later and I’m compelled to break the silence.

“Butterfly Wishes?” I ask.

It seems it’s Rarity’s turn to sigh. “I knew it. Too tacky?” she replies. “I suppose it was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment choice in naming conventions, but I hope I wasn’t too far off the mark with it considering…”

“Considering…?” I question, prompting her to continue her thought.

“Considering… you know. The whole butterfly thing,” she tells me. I give her a confused look.

‘Butterfly thing?’ my thoughts echo, trying to work out what exactly she means. I don’t get it. What’s a butterfly? And what’s with the fake name in the first place?

“Well… OK. But why did you—”

“Here you are, dears,” Rarity’s relative interrupts, trotting back into the room with a washcloth and two glasses of water held in the pink aura of her magic.

“Oh! Thank you, Nana.” Rarity says with a smile as she takes the cloth and one of the glasses in her own magic.

Seeing the remaining glass float closer to my face, I swallow my nerves and reach up to grab it in my hooves. The pink aura tickles a bit, and I flinch at the unexpected sensation. After a few more seconds, I awkwardly manage to take the glass. “Um, yes… Thank you, Miss Rarity’s Nana…” I say.

Rarity giggles at that, and I feel my blush intensify. I take a long sip of water in an attempt to hide my shame.

That was weird… I chide myself. I keep doing this. What’s wrong with me?

I look back up as a hoof is placed on my shoulder. Rarity’s Nana is smiling softly at me— the first one I’ve seen her wear. The glow of her horn seems to have fully dissipated at this point.

“Please, dear. You can just call me Lily,” she says, her voice gentle. “I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier. You don’t need to tell me anything that you don’t want to.”

Hearing her words, I feel the unease that’s been clouding my mind since first meeting her suddenly lift. She’s a lot like Rarity in that sense.

“It’s alright, Miss Lily. Thank you for inviting me into your home,” I tell her, trying to match her smile.

“Of course, dear. Now let’s finish getting you two cleaned up.”

Both unicorns direct their focus onto cleaning and bandaging my various cuts and scrapes. It’s… odd. I don’t really know why, but it just feels weird having these ponies working so hard to help me. It felt weird when Rainbow Dash helped me out, too.

Would I go so far to help another pony I don’t even know? I wonder.

I helped my forest friends earlier… but that’s different. It feels different, at least. They aren’t ponies. They wouldn’t judge me for anything I say or how I act. They wouldn’t expect anything from me. They wouldn’t know what a real pegasus should be like…

I feel Lily place a hoof on my wing, and I gasp at the touch. I pull it tightly into my side.

Rarity’s eyes go wide and she quickly speaks up. “I think that’s about all we can do ourselves, Nana. Butterfly, do you think you can get your wings on your own?” she asks, all but pulling me up off the couch.

“Um… yes. I think so,” I say, reaching my head down into the first-aid kit and grabbing a mouthful of bandages. “Do you have a mirror anywhere I can use?” I ask, the question muffled.

Lily smiles again and points a hoof down the hallway that Rarity had run down earlier. “Feel free to use our bathroom. It’s the last door on the right,” she tells me.

I nod at her in thanks and make my way down the hallway. I can barely make out Rarity whispering something behind me about how “You can’t touch his wings”. I shake my head and try to ignore that comment as I open the door to the bathroom.

It’s a tight fit in here. Barely enough room to stand between the sink and the bathtub. My bathroom back up in Cloudsdale is a lot more spacious than this… but I’m also realizing something else that’s different. Something that’s giving me pause.

There’s personality here. Health and beauty products cover every open portion of the sink and edge of the bathtub. There’s even some needles and thread that have spilled into here from the living room. I only have the bare essentials back home— everything that my dad told me I’d need. It’s messier in here than I’m used to, but there’s clearly something to it.

These ponies care about themselves. They care about their health. They care about their appearances. Not just that, either. They care about each other, and…

…And they care about me…

This cramped bathroom suddenly feels like the perfect size. I place the bandages on the corner of the sink where I find an open space and take a look in the mirror to see what I’m working with.

…I’m not sure what I was expecting. It’s just me. Granted, my mane’s a lot messier and I’m covered in bandages, but it’s still me. Same pink mane. Same yellow coat. I try to swallow this strange sense of disappointment.

I stand up on my back legs and lean closer to the mirror until my nose is almost touching its surface. I turn my head from side-to-side and try to find any blemishes that the two unicorns might have missed before focusing on my wings. I ultimately can’t find anything, however, and resolve to thank them later for their help. I doubt I could’ve done as decent a job on my own.

I turn forward again and stare at my reflection.

It’s not something I’ve ever told another pony about— I get made fun of enough at school as it is— but I’ve always liked my eyes. They’re a very pretty shade of green. Dark, but not too dark. With the way my body’s growing, it’s also just nice to know that there’s a part of me that will stay the same. It’s… comforting.

I unfold my wings and stretch them out as far as I can manage, wincing as I do so. Only a couple of scratches— easily patched, so it must mostly be sore muscles.

Applying the bandages, I begrudgingly take note of the fact that my wings seem larger than when I last checked a few weeks ago.

“Ugh…” I grumble to myself.

In addition to height, pegasi also tend to measure wingspan. Wings too large can be cumbersome when flying, same with a larger body. I somehow lucked out and got both.

I try to imagine what I would look like if I was smaller like Rainbow Dash. A head shorter; wings perfectly shaped for flight. It would be… nice. I’m sure a pony like that wouldn’t have fallen all the way down to the surface. A pony like that would be playing with their friends up in Cloudsdale right now. A pony like that would have friends. More than one, at least.

…Rarity probably has lots of friends, I posit, my mind wandering. She’s pretty, and nice. She’s kind of the opposite of me.

I place a hoof across my mouth, trying to hide the square shape of my muzzle. It’s harder to picture what I would look like with Rarity’s softer features, but the thought of it sends a shiver down my spine.

“Woah,” I blanch, reacting to the unexpected sensation. I tap my hooves on the sink as I’m suddenly filled with jitters.

Looking like Rarity would be good— really good. I don’t know why!

I get an unbearable urge to fly around, but I can’t exactly do that in a room this small. I resort to bouncing up and down and giggling instead, my wings flapping as much as they’re able to.

A more reasonable part of me might want to work out exactly why that thought makes me feel this way, but who cares about reason? Today’s been nothing but unreasonable! Yet despite that I’m still around— I’m still here! I got to fly, I made a friend, I didn’t die, I got to see the surface, I met Rarity and her Nana Lily and lots of cute little animals!

“I even got my cutie mark!” I all but shout in my excitement, wheeling my flank around.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my thoughts going still while my body takes a few more seconds to get the last of my giggles out. Eventually I fall silent as I start to process exactly what I’m seeing. The smile drops from my lips.

There’s an image on my flank. Three to be exact. Three of those insects that saved my life earlier today, wings the same shade of pink as my mane. I try rubbing at them with a hoof, but they don’t come off. I spin around and see the same three insects mirrored on my other flank. I rub at them too, but they don’t even smudge.

I’ve been… ignoring it, I think. Subconsciously. Too much to deal with— to process.

Too much to realize that…

Before I can finish that thought, I find myself opening the bathroom door. I step back out into the living room and stand at the entrance to the hallway. The two unicorns interrupt their conversation to stare at me in confusion.

“Is everything alright, dear?” Lily asks.

“I…” my voice falters. I watch as the older unicorn’s face begins to blur. A now-familiar warmth trails down my cheeks, and I look down to see tears hit the floorboards.

“...I got my cutie mark.”

Silence follows as my flank drops down onto the floor.

A gasp— two. Hooves gallop across the room before they’re thrown around me. A larger set trot calmly after the first before embracing me just the same.

Too much…

“I-I got—!”

“You got your cutie mark!” Rarity exclaims, finishing my thought and squeezing me even tighter.

I can’t hold back the flood anymore, and I weep openly into the legs of these two ponies who welcomed me into their home. These two ponies who helped me.

My thoughts are spiraling, yet with each wave of sobs that wrack my body I grasp just a little bit more. I’m rapidly approaching a realization. An understanding of a single fact— one I’ve been avoiding ever since I made it down to the surface.

A single, wonderful, horrible truth.

I’m happy here. Oh, Celestia… I’m happy here.

A Smile That's Worth a Lifetime

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Rarity called them butterflies.

I take one last bite of my sandwich and look down at my cutie mark.

It’s nice to finally have a name for them— these creatures that saved my life. I didn’t expect to get a cutie mark because of them, either, but I’m not complaining. Frankly, I can't stop smiling!

A cutie mark! I repeat in my head for the thousandth time. I can’t wait to show Rainbow Dash!

“...And you brought all of these back from that rock on your own?”

“Indeed I did! It took me quite a while, I must admit. Although, I had forgotten them for the most part after I ran into— Butterfly, are you listening?”

Rarity’s voice pries my attention away from my own flank, and I suddenly remember the situation I find myself in.

“Oh! Um, yes,” I tell her.

We had all sat down to eat after I recovered from my— admittedly embarrassing— outburst, but it wasn’t long before Rarity suddenly sat up and shouted something about forgetting the time. Rushing out the door, she urged both Lily and myself to stay seated. I was worried, of course, but thankfully she returned before too long. Strangely, though, she was also carrying a large collection of sparkling gemstones with her.

I reach towards the colorful pile that has been strewn across the kitchen table and pick up one of the larger green gems.

“That one is an emerald,” Rarity says with a smile, scooting her chair closer to mine as I inspect it.

“It’s pretty…” I say. My own reflection on its surface is joined by Rarity’s as she leans in, the stars in her eyes apparent.

“Isn’t it!?” she exclaims. “I knew as soon as I had found them that these were what was missing!”

“Missing?”

“Mhmm!” she hums in confirmation and delight. “I was almost out of time to perfect the costumes. This must be what they call destiny!”

Lily must have picked up on my confusion where the younger unicorn couldn’t. “Rarity’s class is putting on a school play tonight,” she tells me. “Rarity was put in charge of the costume design.”

“And I told everyone that they would be the best costumes. The perfect costumes!” Rarity once again takes over the explanation with theatrical flair.

“Admittedly I may have been running dry on inspiration there for a bit, and I may have been slightly worried that I would have to show up tonight with something… less than perfect,” she seems to shudder at the thought. “But with these gemstones I can fulfill that promise!”

It’s hard for me to keep a smile off my face whenever Rarity starts to act this way.

If this is how she typically is it’s a wonder she’s not one of the performers instead, I joke to myself.

“So how much time do you have to, um, do that?” I ask.

“Oh, easily a few hours,” she says before glancing at the clock. Her smile drops the moment she does so. “...Or just less than two. Oh no.”

“‘Oh no’?”

“No! No need to panic, Butterfly!” Rarity panics. “Everything is going to be fine! I can still make this happen, I’m sure of it!”

She quickly lifts as many of the gems as she can with her magic, and scoops several others up with one of her legs. Just as she begins to hobble away she’s jerked back, however, an aura of pink held tightly onto the end of her tail.

“Rarity…” Lily begins, her tone reflective of the same concern she showed when I first met her.

“Yes, Nana? I’m sorry, but I really don’t have a lot of time!”

“...Sweetheart, I don’t think that you should worry about the play,” she tells the younger unicorn.

A silence thicker than any cloud fills the cottage. Rarity wheels on her relative.

“What!?” she shouts. “What do you mean!?”

The steady glow of Lily’s horn grows harsher. “I mean that you don’t need to push yourself. You’ve been through a lot today, dear, and you should rest. Missing the play wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“Wh-what!? But—” Rarity protests.

“You’ve been nothing but a bundle of nerves since you arrived back home with Butterfly earlier. I’m not sure you’ve even taken the time to realize just how hurt you are,” Lily presses. “You don’t usually act like this, and I’m worried. Please just rest tonight, dear. For me?”

“But…” Rarity falters. She looks down at the floor in defeat before moving her gaze towards me, her expression pleading.

Huh!? Why is she— What does she expect me to do?

“I-I think that Miss Lily’s right. You were hurt pretty bad, too. Maybe you should rest…” I cautiously tell her.

Any last shreds of hope in her expression fade away as I finish speaking. She seems to cycle through several different emotions all at once before finally settling on rage as she turns back on the older unicorn.

“But that’s not fair!” she shouts. “That’s not fair, Nana! You know I’ve been looking forward to this!”

Lily nods in response, though her expression hardens at the younger unicorn’s tone. “I know, dear, but you’ve put in hard enough work on the costumes already. They’re all perfectly acceptable as they are. I’ll take them to the school myself, but you need to stay here and rest.”

“But ‘acceptable’ isn’t good enough!” Rarity continues to shout. “They have to be perfect, Nana! They have to be!”

“Dear—”

“And I need to be there to make sure they’re all put on properly!”

“Rarity, I—”

“Why are you ruining this!?”

“Young lady, that is enough!” the floorboards shudder as Lily suddenly stomps her hoof. Both Rarity and myself reel back.

“I don’t at all appreciate your tone. There is no reason to shout at me, especially not in front of our guest!” she says firmly, though I sink further into my chair when she gestures at me.

“But—”

“No ‘buts’, young lady! You’re staying here tonight, and that’s final.”

Tears fill Rarity’s eyes as Lily uses her magic to lift the gemstones off the table and out of the younger unicorn’s grasp.

Rarity attempts to sputter out another protest, but her own shaky jaw seems to betray her. With a sob she turns and runs up the stairs, the sound of a door slamming coming soon after.

…I don’t really know what to think. That was… stressful, for sure. For now, I let out the breath that I was holding and take a second to get my heartbeat in order.

Lily’s horn continues to glow brightly as she turns and begins washing dishes in the sink, having placed the gems off to the side. After a near-minute of silence she speaks again, causing me to jump slightly.

“I apologize, Butterfly, on both of our behalfs. That wasn’t something that you needed to see,” she says, addressing me.

I immediately shake my head in response. “Oh no, it’s OK,” I tell her.

And it is OK! I think.

I tend to avoid fights with my parents, though from what I’ve heard at school it’s a pretty common thing with other families. No reason to question it.

She gives me a tired smile over her shoulder and uses her magic to push a plate across the table. A half-eaten sandwich rests upon it; Rarity’s unfinished dinner.

“If you wouldn’t mind, could you give that to her?” Lily asks. “I don’t know what that girl thinks, sometimes, but she still needs to eat. I’d give it to her myself, but I’m probably the last pony that she wants to see right now.”

“Of course,” my response comes quickly, not warranting any thought.

Grabbing the end of the plate in my mouth, I carry it out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

At the top I find an open bedroom, surprisingly tidy considering the mess downstairs. Since this is where she ran to, it’s likely that this bedroom belongs to Rarity herself. Despite that, however, she’s nowhere to be seen.

I tentatively approach the closed door I spot along the far wall, the sounds of sobbing becoming more apparent as I do so. I take the plate out of my mouth and hold it steady with a hoof.

“...Rarity?” I reach out, but the sobbing doesn’t stop. Maybe she didn’t hear me.

“Um… I’m sorry that you can’t go to the play,” I say a little louder. “It looked like it meant a lot to you.”

The door gives no response. I shuffle my hooves.

“It’s OK if you don’t want to talk, but I hope you aren’t mad… Miss Lily’s just worried, like you told me before. Remember?”

I eye the unmoving door handle for a short time before continuing.

“She, um, wanted me to give you the rest of your sandwich… but I suppose I’ll just leave it next to your bed,” I tell her, and once again receive only more sniffles in response.

I take that as my cue and trot over to the bed, depositing the plate on the nightstand. I take a quick glance out of the window and spot some birds flying above dark trees, returning to their nests and their families for the evening.

I know in my head that the sight should warm my heart, but I’m instead filled with a subtle sense of dread— like I’m seated at the edge of a cloud.

Is that… where I want to leave it? A sandwich?

I find myself trotting back over to the door. I just need to tell her…

“Rarity…?” I say, placing my hoof against the wooden surface. “Earlier you said that ‘acceptable’ wasn’t good enough. That things needed to be perfect. I’ve, um… I’ve thought that a lot, too.”

The crying dies down a bit, and I lower my voice in turn.

“A lot’s happened to me today. The bad things were pretty bad, but the good things…”

I close my eyes and lean my head against the door.

“...Today was perfect. To me, at least. I’m sure the ponies at your school will think your costumes are, too, even without the gemstones.”

“I’m gonna go help Miss Lily with the dishes, OK? I hope I can see you again before bed, but if not… Goodnight, Rarity. Oh, and um… thank you.”

Leaving it at that I peel myself away from the door and head back downstairs. I find Lily in the living room, using her magic to clean up the mess of sewing supplies. She must have already finished with the dishes.

“Hi, Miss Lily,” I greet her as I step off the stairs.

“Hi again, Butterfly,” she turns to me with a smile. Her horn is back to its usual dull glow.

“Is it alright if I help you clean up?” I ask, preemptively picking up some fabric off the floor.

“Well…” she begins to protest, but relents soon after. “Of course, dear. Feel free,” she sighs.

We both set to work picking up various ribbons, sheets of fabric, loose pins and other sewing materials I’m having a hard time trying to identify. Half an hour later, and I’m putting the finishing touches on the organized pile of materials we’ve built up out of the way of errant hooves or hindquarters.

Lily sits down on the newly-uncovered couch with an exhausted huff.

“You know, you see the mess in front of you for so long you start to forget just what things look like underneath it,” she tells me.

I take a second to internalize that, and take a look around the room now that I can see it properly for the first time. I recall the first impression I wanted to have: quaint and cozy. The cottage basically screams that at this point.

“I didn’t say before, but I think your home is very lovely, Miss Lily,” I tell her with a smile. She returns her own in kind.

“I suppose that all of this is Rarity’s?” I ask, gesturing at the pile and taking a seat on the couch as well.

“It is,” Lily replies. “Although, it might be more accurate to say that it’s ours. Most of these are materials that I’ve gathered up over the years and put to the wayside. It wasn’t until Rarity showed an interest in the art of sewing that they finally saw any use.”

“You don’t sew, Miss Lily?” I ask, intrigued. I suppose it’s not every elderly pony’s hobby.

“Oh, I know my way around a needle and thread. Mostly out of necessity, though. Tears in outfits tended to never pass as a good first impression for those up in Canterlot.”

Canter—!?

“Canterlot!?” I shout in shock. “You’re from Canterlot? The Canterlot?”

Canterlot… I think to myself. I’ve always wanted to go there, at least to see it. Imagine getting to see the royal palace! Or maybe even the Princess!

Lily chuckles a bit at my enthusiasm.

“Not from there, no. I did live there for a time in my youth, however,” she explains.

Still in awe, I can do nothing to stop the questions that find their way to my lips.

“How long ago?” I ask.

“A few decades past, at this point.”

“Did you ever get to see the royal palace?”

“Oh, every day! It was rather hard to miss,” she jokes.

“Did you ever go inside?”

“My business didn’t take me there often, but yes, I’ve been inside on a couple of occasions.”

“Did you ever meet the Princess?”

It’s at this point in my barrage of questions where Lily takes longer to respond. I calm down enough to examine her expression.

She’s staring past me, I realize. Not at anything in particular, just… past me. Her light flickers.

“...Would you like to see?” she asks, breaking her stupor. I tilt my head at her in confusion, but nod nonetheless.

Getting back onto her hooves, Lily leads me down the hall. We pass the bathroom and open the door at the end.

Another bedroom greets us, even tidier than the one upstairs. Lily’s room.

I can’t explain it, but seeing the bedroom seems to spark a connection in my mind. The tidiness of it and of Rarity’s room, Rarity’s overly-theatrical mannerisms and vocabulary in comparison to Lily’s practiced elegance, and the welcoming feeling I get from both unicorns.

Is Rarity… copying Miss Lily? I ponder.

It’s… a strange thought. I don’t have anyone in my life who I’d emulate to such a degree. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with it, though. It’s just a bit odd. For now, I store the thought away and bring my attention back to Lily.

Having trotted over to a chest in front of the bed, Lily opens it and pulls out a camera. An older and bulkier camera than any I’ve seen before— aside from those in movies and museums. She hoofs it over to me with a smile.

I take the camera gingerly in my hooves and turn it over. It’s not just old, it’s seen some use. There’s clear scratches and wear along the surfaces where you’d rest your hooves, and the strap is frayed.

“Photography is my passion,” Lily tells me. “I’ve documented a good deal of my life with that camera— Rarity’s as well. It finally gave out a few months ago, unfortunately, but I like to think that I’ve made its time here worthwhile.”

Filled with a new sense of wonder over this relic I hold in my hooves, I make another attempt at examining it. It’s easy now to see just why it’s lasted all these years. A lot of the parts seem to have been replaced over time— perhaps more than once— each boasting different levels of wear. Lily must have really cared for it.

I gently hoof the camera back to Lily and ask the question that I’m sure she’s been waiting for.

“Does that mean…?”

Another chuckle. “Yes, it means that I have photos of my time in Canterlot,” she says, before reaching into the chest again and retrieving a large, worn scrapbook.

“My life,” she explains. “In pages and pictures.”

Placing the scrapbook on the floor between us, Lily opens the cover.

I’m immediately drawn by what I see. Shaky photos, taken by unskilled hooves, depict the life of a much younger unicorn than the one I now sit beside. The quality of the image is poor compared to today’s standard, but I’m shocked to see that they actually show color! I was expecting something along the lines of the muddled brown you see in history documentaries.

The only thing is that it’s honestly a bit hard to tell what some of these pictures are even supposed to depict. Most of the early ones seem to be drowned out by some kind of ever-present whiteness. I point out the first one I see that’s almost entirely blotched out.

“Did this one not develop properly?” I ask. What would even be the point of holding onto it?

Lily seems to beam when I point out that specific photo.

“Oh! Yes, I can see how you would think that. When I was younger, my horn would alight when I felt even the tiniest bit of excitement. This was the first ever photo I took with this camera, you see. I was glowing practically the whole day!” she tells me, excitedly recounting her youth.

“It was supposed to be a photo of a flower. A truly beautiful one that I had discovered the same day my parents bought me this camera. It would glow in the dark, and reminded me of, well… me,” she says. My gaze drifts towards her cutiemark, and the flower it depicts.

Having dove head-first into history, I sit and listen— enraptured by what the older pony has to tell me about the life that she lived.

When she was younger, Lily’s family moved around a lot. It was her, her parents, and her younger sister— Rarity’s grandmother. They traveled from place to place before eventually hearing of the developing settlement of Ponyville. She was a young adult by the time her family finally settled down and made Ponyville their home.

“It was a nice place to live— and still is— but at the time I wanted more.”

Lily flips over several pages before I finally see the grandiose architecture of the Canterlot Royal Palace.

“We had all heard the stories, so eventually I moved to the one place I knew where ponies could truly make something of themselves,” she tells me.

At this point in time, presumably several years past, Lily’s skill at photography had improved drastically. Things are properly centered, more professional angles are used, and there’s no trace of her horn’s light obscuring the image.

“I loved my family, and I loved Ponyville, but always felt like I could make my own way. I always felt like I could do more with my camera than simply take photos of trees and flowers,” she says, pointing out a particular photo of a unicorn sitting in front of a fountain.

The pony’s multicolored mane is reflected in full-vibrance in the waters, contrasting beautifully with the evening sky in the background. Lily had caught her in the middle of laughing, and the entire thing just feels so… alive. Lily really does have a talent for this kind of thing.

I spot the same unicorn in several other photos, some with Lily herself in them. There’s a type of joy radiating from the two of them that draws me in.

“Who is she?” I ask.

“That, dear, is Rarity,” Lily replies.

…What?

“...What?”

Lily simply smiles at me and continues.

“Rarity was my best friend, my confidant, and my muse. We met shortly after I first arrived in the city, but we quickly became inseparable.”

She begins flipping through more and more pages— months and years passing with a glance. I see photos of various subjects, pony and non-pony alike. Photos of events— parties, weddings, and ceremonies of all kinds. It seems that Lily really made her way around in the time she was in Canterlot, yet there remains a consistency. The presence of one pony in particular graces most of these photos.

Rarity. Or rather, this pony who shares her name.

“She was what I would consider to be one of the few truly worthy of their place in Canterlot. She had the noble air about her and the connections that cemented her place among the elite, but beyond all of that she was…”

Lily trails off, her gaze fixed once again on something far, far away. I debate getting her attention, but she manages to pull herself back before I get the chance.

“...She cared. More than most,” she tells me. “Enough to help me out with shooting opportunities whenever I was struggling, and much more.”

A soft sigh escapes Lily’s lips. “Frankly, I doubt I would have lasted as long as I did in Canterlot without her.”

I allow Lily a moment to reflect on her memories before asking the question burning in my mind. “...Miss Lily? Why don’t you live in Canterlot anymore?”

Wordlessly, Lily flips a few more pages. She comes to rest upon a page with a single newspaper clipping attached to it. She passes the scrapbook over to me, and I take it in my hooves with care. The weight of it catches me off guard, but I force my attention towards the clipping.

The paper, as old as it is, has taken on a slight yellow tinge. The image upon it is fading, but despite that it’s not difficult to make out the pony it depicts. Princess Celestia, in all of her beauty, is splayed out haplessly on the ground in a daze. Guards are rushing to her side to assist her while another pony runs in the opposite direction away from the chaos. Their cutie mark, barely seen, shows off a unique-looking flower.

With effort, I keep myself from glancing at the unicorn next to me and look at the clipping’s title. “Professional Photographer Lily Lightly Embarrasses Princess; Equestria’s Ruler Left in Blinded Slump,” it reads.

Before my eager eyes can glance over the rest of the article, I shut the scrapbook.

Lily’s tone is unchanging as she addresses me. “What’s wrong, dear? I thought you wanted to know what happened?” she asks.

Not like this, the thought rings out in my mind. It’s wrong. It feels wrong.

“I know what p-ponies say when you do something they don’t like. Even if it was an accident…” I tell her, pushing down my nausea. “I don’t want to read their side of what happened. I want to know yours.”

“I see…” she says, before breaking into a relieved chuckle. “Very well, then.”
With a groan, Lily stands up and trots over to a vanity mirror set up next to her bed.

“My horn,” she begins. “Just as they say, it was the light it produces that left the Princess in that state.”

She reaches up with a hoof and rests it upon her horn.

“It was always a part of me that other ponies disliked. Oh, they might not have outright said it, but I could always tell. ‘There goes little Lily Lightly. With her horn who needs the sun?’”

My grip tightens around the scrapbook, and I clutch it to my chest.

“As you might imagine, I took this to heart. The light comes naturally to me, but I learned to suppress it. I knew that it would hamper any career I could have made with my photography and sever the connections I so desperately wanted. I kept it a secret from everyone. As far as Rarity was concerned, I told her about everything... Everything but my light.”

Lily wills the light from her horn to dim, further and further until not a trace of it is left.

“I hid that part of myself from even my best friend, and I hid it for years. It wasn’t gone, though, no matter how much I wanted to be rid of it at the time. But still, with my light suppressed and Rarity there to help me I made my way from function to function, improving my skill in photography and making connections at every opportunity. I was living the life of my dreams…”

Her reflection smiles softly, and the dull glow from her horn returns.

“By the end, I was struggling. It was becoming more and more challenging to suppress my light. I was missing shooting opportunities, parties… even missing out on time with Rarity.”

“She was concerned,” Lily says, her smile growing bright. “She was always concerned…”

“‘It will probably be your only chance,’ she told me. One of the photographers they hired to work that year’s Grand Galloping Gala was sick and would be unable to make it. Rarity offered my services in their stead.”

I can’t help but echo her words aloud in my wonder. “The Grand Galloping Gala…” I say, and Lily nods at me.

“It was as she said. I couldn’t miss it for the world. I put in more effort than I ever did before and ensured that my light wouldn’t be making an appearance that night. Things had to be perfect.”

I think I hear the slight sound of a door opening somewhere else in the cottage, but I’m too enraptured in the story to pay it any mind.

“And perfect they were… My shots were pristine, the dances grand, and the company exquisite. It was, in many ways, the best night ever.”

Lily sways back-and-forth on her hooves, seemingly in time with music that only she can hear. I subconsciously sway along with her.

“‘How could tonight get any better?’ I asked myself. But of course, as if the world needed to prove me wrong, that’s when I’m approached by none other than Princess Celestia herself.”

I gasp in turn with Lily as she mimes her own reaction that night.

“I suppose I should have expected it. I’d heard that the Princess personally saw to it that she greeted each and every attendee of the Gala throughout the night, but I suppose I assumed for some reason or another that I would be an exception. There were times I wished I was.”

“‘Beautiful’ doesn’t do her justice; ‘Radiant’ is the only word I would use to describe her. When she greeted me I could only stammer, and all that stuck in my mind at the time was Rarity’s giggling beside me. She introduced me to the Princess in my place, and the embarrassment of the moment was the drop that broke the tension.”

“At once my bottled emotions escaped me. Everything that I had suppressed in the years I was in Canterlot. Everything that I had wished would vanish for good. It all escaped in the only way it could… my light.”

Flash. Lily’s horn grows brighter.

“More bright than I ever thought it could get, everything released in a flash. The Princess was left on the floor, Rarity along with her, and everyone knew that I was the one who did it. I could do nothing but panic and run. I had to.”

Lily sits on her bed and holds a hoof to her chest, an action that’s all too familiar to me.

“Did they— did, um…” I speak up, stammering. “Miss Lily, were you… chased out of Canterlot?”

Lily looks away and stares at the wall. “‘Chased’ is a strong word. I’m not sure if it’s entirely accurate… but after that night I certainly felt like the least-welcome pony in the city,” she says. “So… I left. I made my way back to Ponyville, bought land away from where I could bother others, and I built a life here that I never thought I’d build.”

Lily grows quiet. An ending to the story I knew was coming but still wasn’t expecting.

“What about Rarity?” I ask. “The, uh, other Rarity. The Canterlot one.”

“...I avoided her. As best I could, and for many months. I’m sure it felt like some kind of horrible betrayal,” she wipes a tear from her eye. “But, regardless, she found me. One morning she was knocking on the front door of the cottage and demanded an explanation. She deserved one, so I provided. I apologized and told her everything. Light included, this time.”

“She forgave me,” Lily sniffles. “She made it seem so effortless. I know I ruined her reputation in some fashion, but she never brought it up… no matter how many times I asked her about it.”

I stand up and approach the bed, hoping to provide a measure of support with my presence.

“It took a long time, but with her help I eventually came to terms with my light and what I had lost by trying to keep it hidden. The newspaper clipping is a reminder. I’ve lived a perfect life here in Ponyville because of what happened, and in spite of what happened. I’ve never wanted to hide any side of myself since.”

Lily gives one last sigh. “Sometimes I wish that the Princess would knock on my door just the same. My only regret is that I haven’t been able to offer her an apology as well. Even if she doesn’t accept it, she still deserves one.”

In the silence that follows, my thoughts run wild. It had never occurred to me before just how much there was to a pony’s life. How much there was to experience, to love, and to regret.

For the first time, I think of my future.

What kind of pony will I be? What kind of pony can I be, and who will I meet that will be there with me every step of the way? I flap my wings at the thought.

There’s more than Cloudsdale, I realize. More than school and my parents. I…

I think I want to see it. All of it.

“This other Rarity… Is she...?” I prod, reluctantly.

“She’s no longer with us,” Lily explains, her horn’s light holding steady. “Or, rather, not in the physical sense. I like to think that she’s watching, and that she’s proud. Both of me, and of Rarity.”

Beyond everything else, one aspect of this conversation has left me a bit puzzled. I haven’t ever heard of two ponies sharing a name before. I thought they were like cutie marks— unique.

“Rarity told me earlier…” I begin. “She, uh, said that she ‘picked’ her name.”

“She did,” Lily replies, her soft smile growing wider.

“...Why, though? Didn’t her parents give her one?” I ask.

Lily holds her mouth open before closing it again. She looks off to the side, her brow furrowing. She seems to be debating something.

“Rarity’s parents… she has a complicated relationship with them,” she finally explains.

“You’ve probably noticed that they don’t live here with us.”

I give a quick nod. I have noticed. I figured it would have been a rude topic to bring up, though.

“The truth is they don’t even live in Ponyville. Rarity grew up a fair distance away. I only got to see her on the occasional visits, but I loved every second of it.”

I don’t have much extended family, but I think when I was younger we used to visit my grandparents fairly often before they...

I wish I could remember them. Did they look forward to my visits? I wonder.

“My sister passed away before Rarity was born,” she continues. “And so… I effectively became her grandmother in her place. I tried to make her feel at home here, and did my best to make her feel that she would always have family in me.”

Lily’s face grows grim, and my curious mind halts.

“Something happened, and her parents left her on her own. When I found out, I immediately took her in myself. It’s been just over two years since then.”

“I don’t…” I try to ask, but I find my mouth filled with a suffocating dryness.

Her parents… left her?

“Her reasons for wanting a new name are her own. The best I can do is to support her, and provide no judgment. If anything, I’m utterly proud of how she’s found herself. I’m proud of the pony she is and the pony she’s becoming. And when it comes to her name, I’m proud that she took Rarity’s. If there’s any pony out there that can do it justice, it’s her.”

Silence takes over the cottage. I stare blankly down at the scrapbook as I process what I was just told. My mind wanders back, and all I can think of is my meeting with Rarity in the glade. The overwhelming fear I felt… and the look of understanding she wore.

“Miss Lily?” I ask, guiltily.

“Yes, dear?”

“...I’m sorry, but I think I lied to you earlier.”

“Oh?” she responds with a quizzical look.

I nod and squeeze my leg with a hoof. The pressure reassures me somewhat.

“Back when you were asking me who I was… I am Rarity’s friend. Or, at least, I want to be.”

With a smile that’s worth a lifetime, she beams at me. “That’s wonderful, Butterfly! And don’t worry, I’m pretty sure Rarity already sees you that way.”

My eyes open wide in surprise. “She does?”

Lily hums in confirmation, and I feel my heart swell.

“Rarity’s my friend…” I whisper aloud. Another smile spreads across my cheeks.

I meet Lily’s gaze, suddenly keenly aware of what I should have done an hour ago.

“Miss Lily, I want to ask you something. As Rarity’s friend.”


Cresting the top of the stairs to Rarity’s room, I’m surprised to find the unicorn in question sitting on her bed. She’s staring down at an empty plate held in her hooves, and doesn’t seem to notice me or Lily as we approach.

“Rarity?” I reach out.

Rarity jumps at my voice and stands up quickly, turning towards us. Her eyes are puffy and red.

“I’m sorry!” she shouts. Lily and I look at each other in surprise.

“You’re right, Nana, I’ve been acting off today. I’ve been through a lot and I was worrying you. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t want to fight!” she continues, tears threatening to fall once more.

“And Butterfly, I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend. You got your cutie mark today! Tonight should be about you, but I made everything about me.”

“I’m sorry…” she expresses, looking back down at the floor and clenching her eyes shut.

As Rarity finishes her apologies, I slowly approach. She seems to instinctively lean away from me, but I wrap my legs around her before she can. She remains tense for a moment as I hold her, but before long she returns the embrace.

“It’s OK,” I tell her.

She doesn’t say anything, but remains in the hug for a while.

“I don’t want to fight, either, sweetheart,” Lily says. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Rarity nods into my shoulder.

“And…” Lily continues. “I have something to talk with you about.”

Rarity eventually pulls away from the hug, sniffling. She looks at Lily questioningly.

“...I wanted to apologize, too. Butterfly and I had a talk, and he wanted to reiterate just how important the school play is to you,” Lily tells her. She leans down until she’s eye level with the younger unicorn.

“I never doubted how much it meant to you, but I was caught up in my worry. You mean the world to me, and I was willing to keep the world from you to keep you safe. I was wrong.”

Rarity looks surprised, but still has a hint of doubt. “What do you mean, Nana?” she asks.

“I mean that you should have the chance to chase the dreams you want to chase, no matter what might happen. I’m not going to keep you from the play tonight,” Lily explains.

With a gasp, Rarity turns towards me. The stars in her eyes seem to spark once again as they meet mine. “Butterfly, you…” she whispers.

Reaching behind my back, I unfurl my wings and grab the object I was keeping locked between them. I instruct Rarity to hold out her hooves and place a large green gemstone in them. I return her stunned expression with a smile.

“Th-that’s— This is—” she stammers. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Rarity bounces up off the floor and wraps a leg around each of us, her typical demeanor returning to her.

I lean fully into the hug. The relief I feel is immense.

“Thank you so much!” she shouts again before releasing us. “But… I don’t have time to finish the costumes. The show starts in an hour…”

She looks down, dejected, until Lily raises her chin.

“Well then, I guess we’ll have to rush.”

“‘We’? Nana? You want to—”

“Not just me,” she tells the younger unicorn. “It was Butterfly’s idea to help you finish the costumes.”

Rarity looks at me, surprised, and I stand up to give a twirl.

“I don’t know much about sewing, but I’ve been told I could pass for an earth pony before,” I explain. “I figure I’m probably close to your classmates’ size. If you need a model, you’ve got one.”

Rarity lets out a choked laugh. Hearing it makes my heart flutter.

“I couldn’t ask for one better.”