Dear Sweetie Belle,

It feels like it’s been ages since I last heard your voice. The magic nullifier they fitted on my horn upon my arrest prevents me from using even the simplest of spells, let alone tapping into your frequency. I hope you realize how important your resistance radio show is to the cause, and I trust that you are in safe hooves with the New Dawn.

I’m not silly enough to write where the New Dawn is based out of, of course. Twilight says that she trusts this courier, but you can’t take any chances these days. I thought for sure that reporter fellow was one of ours.

Forgive me. I’m not used to mouth-writing. This won’t be nearly as long as my other letters usually are.

I know that my execution draws near, and I shall meet it with as much dignity as I can bear. It’s the least I can do for you. I can leave you a legacy of courage. I pray that it will be enough to wash away the shame of our failed coup.

I know that it’s customary for the condemned to have a last request. I shall bequeath it to you, my darling little sister.

Fight on.

Fight on for me. Fight on for father. Keep mother safe and give her all my love.

I would ask you to leave a flower on father’s grave, but I suppose it too was lost in the razing of Ponyville.

Oh Sweetie Belle, just keep fighting. Be the light in this endless darkness. Let your voice guide those lost in the valley of despair back home. Inspire them to join the fight, to struggle against the forces that work against us.

Fight on. Do not fight in the name of vengeance, but in the name of what is right. Fight on for every filly and colt whose bones are already thinning. Fight on for every mare and stallion who even now forget the warmth of the sun.

Fight on for yourself.

My jaw hurts. I could almost laugh. I should relish this pain in my jaw. I should relish every feeling, no matter how insignificant.

I love you so much, Sweetie Belle. And I’ m sorry. I’m sorry for every fight, for every unkind word. I’m sorry I never got to see your lovely face again. I’m sorry that all this has happened.

I’m so, so sorry.

I fear I can write no more. The courier is waiting for this letter... and the hangmare waits for me.

Your loving sister,

Rarity

P.S. Enclosed is my last design. It’s for you. I trust you to wear it when the time comes. You'll know when.

Archivist Note: Rarity’s final sketch now has a place of honor in the Equestrian National Museum. The dress itself, worn at the Ceremony of Social Resurgence, was donated upon Sweetie Belle’s death by her great-granddaughter to the Fillydelphian Fashion Academy.