A blistering wind swept across the farmlands. The sun peeked between a thin scattering of clouds, forcing Rarity Belle to tuck the rim of her hat down against its glare. Her eyes scanned the small community just visible in the distance. If she’d handled her navigation correctly, that was Little Longhorn. She’d hoped for something bigger, mayhap with a decent inn.

“Why do I keep getting asked to go to places like this?” she asked her steed, a pale grey Dust Devil. “I swear, Ophelia, if they don’t have a proper bed for me in this place I’m charging extra.”

Ophelia trilled and shook her large, reptilian head. Rarity chose to take that as a sign of agreement. She reached down and patted the lizard’s scales just behind the neck frills. “Don’t worry, Darling. I’m sure they’ll have a nice stable for you to stay at for the night. These places tend to take care of their sand lizards better than they do their ponies.”

Fields spread all around them. Cotton, from the looks of it. The sight brought her back to a time two years ago when her life was fabric and needles and clothing. She wondered what had happened to her old shop. Collecting dust, forgotten and unused? She’d have preferred that over being used as a tavern or – Luna forbid! – a brothel. A visit to see Cranky Doodle was long overdue. Maybe when this job was done.

That life was in the past, and Rarity had little interest in lamenting it. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. Instead, she focused on what was next, which mainly involved delivering her package in town. It was a shame it was a little one. That usually meant no official addresses, so finding her quarry would require some detective work. Yet that was also the benefit of small towns: everypony knew everypony else.

Before long they reached the creek that supplied most of this area with its water. She allowed Ophelia a moment to take a drink, using the opportunity to refill her waterskin. She wished she could get herself a bottomless canteen, but that still hadn’t caught on like she’d hoped. Ah, another reminder. Sweet Apple Acres was too far north for her to go in search of it though. Another time, perhaps. She checked to make sure the package was where she remembered in Ophelia’s saddlebag, then mounted and continued on.

They arrived in Little Longhorn near the heat of a burning noon. The houses were small, squat things, clearly designed with a focus on using as few resources as possible. Most of them didn’t even have front doors, which Rarity found alarming. Had they no sense of privacy? The windows didn’t have glass in them either. The structures appeared to be well-maintained, so it wasn’t like this was a place of squalor. But it was quiet. Very few ponies walked the streets, most of them earth ponies, although she did spot a unicorn pair sitting on the front stoop of one house. Her target was a unicorn, so the lack of them meant her job might be easier than she anticipated.

Rarity kept her expression neutral, fighting the urge to frown. The lack of citizens out and about meant that her riding in on her Dust Devil stood out, and more than a few ponies watched her as she passed. They weren’t friendly looks by any stretch of the imagination. Indeed, some of them were outright hostile. Possibilities ran through her thoughts: were they just antagonistic to strangers, or maybe she’d done something unwittingly on her way in that offended, or perhaps they were just having a collective bad day. That last one almost made her laugh at the absurdity, but she maintained her stoic façade. After all, there was one fundamental truth she’d learned to live with, and that was the mountain of bits her head was worth.

Intimidating, but not intimidating enough. She flicked the safety off her gun holsters with a touch of magic and continued to the center of town.

After a few short minutes she caught sight of another unicorn, a little filly of perhaps seven or eight. She’d been playing with a pair of dolls in the yard of her house until she noticed Rarity’s approach. Her eyes went wide as saucers, dolls forgotten, and she hurried to the edge of the dirt path to gape. It didn’t take much to realize the child’s focus was on Ophelia, not Rarity.

Children. So honest, so appreciative. So easy to talk to. Rarity allowed herself a small smile and nudged her steed so that she would pass close to the filly. Ophelia’s head turned to observe the child, a curious gleam in her eyes. When they were right next to her, Rarity brought them up short. The child and Ophelia stared at one another, one thoughtful and the other in open-mouthed awe. This lasted for about a second, then the lizard leaned closer and began sniffing at the filly’s face, prompting her to giggle.

“She likes being rubbed under the chin,” Rarity added helpfully. The filly promptly began massaging Ophelia’s neck with her pale blue hands. The Dust Devil’s eyes closed and its mouth curled in a goofy, friendly, tooth-filled grin. She trilled happily at the attention as the child continued to giggle. “Her name’s Ophelia. Could you tell me yours?”

The filly, her orange mane pulled back in a loose ponytail, smiled up at Rarity. “I’m Autumn Song.”

“My, what a lovely name you have.” Rarity leaned forward to scratch under Ophelia’s frills. “Mine’s Rarity. Do you think you could help us?”

Autumn paused her ministrations to look up at her. “Help you do what?” Ophelia bumped her shoulder gently, making her laugh and get back to her apparent duty. “I’m sorry, did I stop?” she asked playfully. The lizard’s coos reminded Rarity of a cat purring, only with a birdlike quality.

“I’m looking for a pony,” Rarity answered. “A unicorn like us.”

“Not a lot of unicorns here,” Autumn replied, her attention still focused on vigorously rubbing Ophelia’s scales.

“I’m only looking for one. Orange coat, red and yellow mane.”

Autumn’s eyes lit up as she finally tore them from Ophelia’s grin. “Oh, that must be Miss Shimmer! She lives down by the well, but…” She paused to look up at the sky, then down at her shadow. That done, she went back to appreciating an appreciative sand lizard. “Right now she’s probably at the graveyard. Mom doesn’t like me bothering her when she’s there.”

Rarity hummed to herself. Wait for the mare at her home, or go meet her at the cemetery? “Is the graveyard closer than the well from here?”

“Uh-huh.” Autumn was paying a lot more attention to Ophelia than Rarity by now.

“Where is the cemetery?”

The child tilted her head to the right. “That way. Right at Mr. Pitts’s place.”

Rarity couldn’t resist a smile at the simple response. “And which one is Mr. Pitt’s place?”

“The one with the picture of a gun on his front door.”

Well, that should be easy enough to see. Rarity reached into her enchanted, weight-reducing backpack as she spoke. “And the well?”

“Center of town.”

“Very good. Ophelia?” With a low moan of disappointment, the Dust Devil raised her head out of Autumn’s reach. The filly pouted at first. Back came the wide eyes, though, when Rarity displayed a small sapphire between her finger and thumb. “Thank you for the help, Autumn Song. You be a good girl now.”

“O-okay,” Autumn whispered, accepting the gemstone in her open palm. By her stunned look, that one gem was probably worth more than all the bits she’d ever possessed put together. “I can really keep this? It’s worth a whole twenty bits!”

Oh, she knew her gem conversions already? The girl might have a financially successful life ahead of her. “It’s all yours. Have a good day, Autumn.”

Just as Rarity was about to flick the reins, Autumn said, “Keep away from Crater.”

The worried tone made Rarity pause. She eyed Autumn thoughtfully. “Why?”

Swiftly pocketing the gem as if afraid it would be snatched away, the child bowed her head and shuffled her hooves. “He doesn’t like outsiders much.”

A bully, perhaps? Maybe something worse. Rarity cast another glance and saw that, yes, the other ponies were still watching her. All earth ponies, that is. The unicorn couple had gone inside.

She sat up tall in her saddle and smiled down at the child. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be careful.” A flick of the reins. “Take care now.”

“Yes, ma’am. Bye, Ophelia!” Autumn regained her enthusiasm and waved merrily to them as they trudged away at a steady pace. Thinking on who this ‘Crater’ might be, Rarity instinctively reached up to touch the gun hidden beneath her coat. The last thing she wanted was to get into a fight, but she’d learned to prepare for the worst.

---

The cemetery was larger than one might expect for a town of this size. Either Little Longhorn was very old, or the town had suffered some kind of calamity. Rarity had little interest in the cemetery itself. Rather, she merely wanted to confirm that Autumn’s ‘Miss Shimmer’ was the same pony Rarity was looking for. It would be uncouth to bother a mare in mourning, after all. Once she knew she had her target, she’d go to wait somewhere quiet near her home.

At least, that was the plan. It was thrown out the window when Rarity laid eyes on the scene. A unicorn mare in a simple brown and blue dress, perhaps ten years Rarity’s senior, stood surrounded by a band of four earth pony stallions. She was impossible to miss with that flaming red hair with yellow streaks. She had her head bowed and her hands clenched into fists as the stallion before her, a short but muscular thing, ran his fingers along her cheek.

Rarity made a few quick observations. The first was that only the lead stallion was armed, a small pistol being at his hip. The others wore loose clothes that could hide a weapon, but why should they hide their weapons? The second thing she noted was that, whatever was being said, the mare was not appreciative of the attention. This was all the information Rarity needed; she set Ophelia plodding into the cemetery, moving straight for the little confrontation.

The stallion behind Miss Shimmer noticed her first and spoke up. Soon all eyes were on Rarity. Miss Shimmer gained a horrified look and shook her head, perhaps trying to warn Rarity off.

“Well, well,” the leader of the stallions said, a lecherous grin on his lips. “Looks like we’re in luck, boys. Now we’ve got two lovely boneheads to play with.”

Rarity felt her eye twitch, but maintained her calm manner. “Good afternoon, boys. I have business with the lady, if you don’t mind.”

“We have business with her too,” the leader announced smugly. “But hey, we can multitask. I’d hate to ignore the attention of a lovely creature such as yourself. Why don’t you climb off that lizard so we can talk eye to eye?”

With a smile of her own, Rarity brought Ophelia to a pause some ten feet away from them. “I’m fine up here, thank you. Why don’t you prove how much of a gentlecolt you are and let us ladies have our time together?”

“Oh, we’re perfect gentlecolts. Honest.” The stallion bowed while his friends chuckled. “I’ll show you how much of a gentlecolt I can be by letting you two have all the time in the world with us. Together.”

“My, but you’re a thick one aren’t you?” Rarity’s smile disappeared. She sat up tall and stared down her muzzle at the fool. “You will leave us. Now.”

The stallion’s smile only grew into a grin. He turned to his buddies. “Look at this one, fellas! Thinks she can boss us around.” Miss Shimmer seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible, her blue eyes firmly on the ground. Such meek posturing, but the only thing shaking on her person was her fists, and Rarity doubted that had anything to do with fear.

The leader turned back to Rarity and took a step closer to her. “Look, girlie, you’re clearly new to Little Longhorn, so let me clear things up for you. First off, you know who I am?”

Why did these stallions always have to be so cock sure of themselves? Rarity let her eyes roam to his companions, all of whom looked perfectly confident in their superior position. “I don’t suppose you’re this ‘Crater’ I’ve heard of?”

“Nah, that’s my brother.” The stallion pointed to himself with a thumb. “We’re Apple Gang, so you better not think of crossing us.”

“Aren’t you cute?” Rarity said with a mockingly childish tone. “You think being a Bad Apple means something to me.” She switched back to a serious manner. “Have you ever been in a gunfight, boy?”

He froze, eyes shifting to the gun at her hip as if just realizing it was there. The grin finally faltered. “Sure I have,” he said, but the hesitation in his voice gave him away. “Are you threatening me?”

Rarity’s hand flowed to the weapon at her hip, her thumb rubbing the small knub on the handle. Her voice sliced through the air with cold precision, aimed straight at his heart. “Yes. I am.”

His bravado faltered. His fingers flexed, shaking even as they did. His companions were exchanging anxious looks. One of them stepped forward to whisper in the stallion’s ear. Whatever he said was enough to make the leader’s face go pale. Rarity could only assume she’d finally been recognized. A pity, she’d hoped to do this job with minimal fuss. Then again, if they really were Bad Apples it would only make sense.

The leader’s hands rose quickly, well away from his gun. “Oookay. I think we can be proper gentlecolts and let you two ladies talk. Come on, guys.” Without so much as a passing glance at Miss Shimmer, he turned and started walking for the town. Rarity turned Ophelia about, making sure she had a good view of their retreat. Their walk gained speed with every step. They were all but running by the time they reached the edge of the cemetery.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Miss Shimmer declared, her tone curiously firm for her choice of words. “Have you any idea what they’ll do to you?”

Nothing compared to what Rarity might do to them, if their apparent experience meant anything. Waiting until the boys were truly out of sight, she turned back to the mare. “Are you Sunset Shimmer?”

Sunset took a step back, one arm raising as if to ward off a blow. Her eyes shined with uncertainty, but also determination. “Who wants to know?”

Rarity offered her most charming – and hopefully disarming – smile. “Somepony trying to deliver a package. You did make an order through Little Angels, yes?”

In an instant, Sunset’s manner went from wary distrust to bright-eyed glee. “You have the gemstone?” She practically bounced forward, hands clasped together as she looked to Rarity’s bags. “Finally! I’ve been waiting two seasons for that thing to show up.”

All doubts assuaged, Rarity climbed off Ophelia and dug into one of the saddlebags, pulling out a small package wrapped in thick yellow paper. She raised it in offering, and Sunset snatched it like a dying pony in the desert might grab a water bag. She chuckled at the mare’s enthusiasm. “I hope it’s worth the wait. I understand Hearthstones are quite expensive.”

“It’ll be worth every bit I saved up if I can figure out how it works,” Sunset replied, hugging the package to her chest. Then her expression darkened. Her eyes trailed over the nearby town. After some fidgeting and humming, she asked, “Why don’t you hold on to it for the moment?” At Rarity’s perplexed expression she explained, “Charming is bound to tell Crater what happened here. They’re gonna want to get back at us for how you stood up to them. I’d rather nopony know I have something so expensive on me. If you could just, um, keep it in your bag? And walk with me to my place where we can hide it properly? I’d really appreciate it.”

Rarity considered the request, quickly deciding it wasn’t that unusual. Besides, there was something far more important to worry about. Those Bad Apples almost certainly knew who she was, and if that was so then Sunset had far worse things in her near future than probable theft. This in mind, Rarity raised her hand expectantly. Sunset gave her the package slowly, as if reluctant to be separated from it.

As she put the package back in the saddlebag, Rarity said, “Do those boys typically bother you, or did I just happen to arrive at the right time?”

The fire faded from Sunset’s demeanor. She seemed to shrink to a fraction of her natural height. “Typically,” she muttered, her long, vibrant tail tucking about her flank to accentuate her abruptly demure posture. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Of course she wouldn’t. After all, Rarity was a stranger that would be out of her life within a few hours. Or so she thought. With a hand to her hip, Rarity turned to study the mare. That fragile pose made her bristle; just what had those boys already done to her? That earlier spark of will was almost certainly the real Sunset, and it burned her to think that such a mare might have been cowed into submission. Especially when she thought of the potential how.

After the silence stretched on for too long, Sunset muttered, “W-we can go now, if you want. These guys…” She glanced at the graves beside her. “They’re not going anywhere.”

By the Night Mother, but that meekness was grating. Resisting the urge to snort her disdain, Rarity turned her gaze on the nearest grave. She’d meant it to be only a glance, but her eyes locked onto the name. The sight of it brought a vice to her heart and made her knees go weak. The words she’d been about to utter died in her throat as she took a wobbly step closer. No, there was no denying it. “You… Is that real?”

“Hmm?” Sunset looked to where she was pointing. The grave was newer than its neighbors, a distinct difference in the soil’s color indicative that it had been freshly made. Fresh was relative; given the grass that had started growing over it, it had probably been there for only a season. A lone, plain headstone read out a familiar name: Stormy Flare. “What do you mean, is it real?”

Rarity turned to her, the motion jerky, and thrust her finger at the grave a second time. “Is Stormy actually buried here?”

Sunset’s eyes went round. “You knew Stormy?”

“You knew Stormy?” Rarity countered with no less urgency.

A pause lingered between the two. Sunset pressed a hand to her breast. “She was my cousin. This is her hometown.”

What trickery of fate was this? Rarity turned back to gape at the headstone, her hands opening and closing as she tried not to think too hard on the last time she’d seen the Flaming Vermillion. “I… I see. I had no idea.”

Sunset took a cautious step closer. “How did you know her?”

Anxiety filled Rarity as she pondered her answer. She ultimately went with a mildly honest, “We crossed paths. Once or twice. She... left quite an impression.”

“Not a good one, knowing her.” Dropping to a crouch, Sunset rubbed her hand along the blades of grass atop the grave, much like she was trying to reassure the dead with her touch. “She was so messed up by the end of it.”

Rarity could certainly confirm that, not that she would. Instead, she decided to change tact. “I didn’t know they’d recovered her body.”

“They didn’t.” Sunset’s ears folded back against her skull, disappearing amongst the sea of red and gold that was her mane. “When Crater told me she’d died, I didn’t believe it. They’re always trying to get to me, I thought it was more of that. But then she didn’t come to visit everyone last season. She’s never missed a year before. Somehow I… I just knew it was true.”

“Now hold on.” Rarity saw a problem with this story, and immediately latched onto it. “How is that even possible? Stormy Flare hated the Bad Apple Gang with an obsessive passion. Why would she permit them to have a presence in her hometown, which she visited annually?”

“They never stayed,” Sunset replied stoically, still running her fingers through the grass. She began plucking out weeds. “They hid somewhere. Stormy tried to find them a few times, root them out. Sometimes she’d kill a bunch of them. But they always came back. It’s like the Gang was determined to taunt her with its presence here. Crater and Charming are from here, joined the Gang about three years ago.”

Rarity watched her work, a wave of melancholy sweeping over her. Stormy had been seeking vengeance, but the Gang had outright invited it by taunting her so. She stared at the grave, recalling a fight that seemed so long ago now. That mare had come so close to ending her life. Closer than many. She hoped to never get into a battle of that sort again.

Seeking to think of other things, she let her gaze drift to a pair of graves on either side of and slightly behind Stormy’s. The name on the left was unfamiliar, but the one on the right, much smaller, caught her eye. “Spitfire?”

Sunset’s ears perked, then lowered again. “Stormy’s daughter.”

The Flaming Vermillion had a daughter? Curious, Rarity approached the grave. By the dates, she calculated it had been there for some eighteen years. Spitfire had been no more than three years old at the time of her death. Closing her eyes, Rarity recalled the last moments of that terrible fight, and the last word to leave Stormy’s lips. Painful understanding bloomed. “What happened?”

Without hesitation, Sunset recited the story as if she knew it by heart. “After the Battle of Ponyville, Stormy went into hiding. Not for long, only a season. When the Bad Apples couldn’t find her, they came here and put the town to the torch. Every member of Stormy’s family was slaughtered. All except me.”

Rarity turned to find Sunset staring at the grave as if afraid Stormy might reach out and drag her in, regardless of whether she was down there or not. “Why you?”

Sunset sighed and stood. She spoke in a dry, dull tone, but Rarity suspected her disinterest was an act. “I was fifteen, and just had a fight with my parents. I ran away, like an idiot. Didn’t make it three days before I got homesick and turned around. By the time I got back, two thirds of Little Longhorn was gone and the Gang had moved on.” She turned away from the graves. “I’m ready to go home now.”

Rarity watched her walk off, then looked to the graves around her. A great many of them shared the same date. She’d known the Gang could be terrible, but this really brought them to a whole new low. As she turned, she became aware of seven graves in a broad, neat circle, one of which was Stormy’s. They were clearly a centerpoint of the graveyard, and despite everything Rarity felt she had to take a closer look. The names gave her pause: Stormy Flare, Noteworthy, Parish Nandermane, Granny Smith, Tough Nut, and Wild Fire. The last one bore no name, but Rarity had no doubt it was intended for a mare named Moonlight Raven.

She didn’t feel worthy to be standing amongst such famous ponies. Slowly, she backed out of the circle, her lips closed tight and her hands behind her back. Once safely away, she took Ophelia by the reins and followed Sunset, who by now had passed the boundary of the graveyard.

---

Much of the walk to Sunset’s home went on in silence. As before, the earth ponies they passed either ignored them completely or shot them withering stares. No, not them; just Rarity. She tried to ignore them, though the passive aggression they displayed made her trigger fingers itchy. When they reached a road without any such unwanted guests, Rarity quietly asked, “Why are there so few ponies out and about?”

Sunset, seeming to have recovered from her gloom, replied, “Most of them are asleep.”

“Asleep?”

“Thestrals.”

“Ah.” Rarity took another look around, half expecting to see one of the leather-winged ponies out and about. “So this is largely a thestral town?”

“More than half the population.” Sunset glanced back at her. “You saw the farms, right? Pretty much all of them are thestral owned and operated.”

A frown swept across Rarity’s features as she considered what she’d seen so far. “And yet the earth ponies run around acting like they own the place.”

Sunset spun around and put a finger on her lips, shushing Rarity as her eyes darted about. She spoke in an urgent whisper. “Don’t make light of it! A third of the earth ponies here are loyal to the Bad Apples, which means they’re not very nice to non-earth ponies. The thestrals outnumber them four to one, but that’s no reason to go offending them.”

Rarity raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I apologize, darling. I’m afraid my respect for the Gang is… lacking.”

With a hurried glance at their surroundings, Sunset turned about and moved at a fast walk. “You can’t have been doing this job for very long then. That or you’ve led a sheltered life.”

Rarity almost laughed, but held it in check by the skin of her teeth. Ophelia bumped her shoulder, and she obediently reached up to rub the lizard’s muzzle. “Yes, I know,” she whispered with a conspiratorial wink at her steed. Setting her attention back to Sunset, she asked, “So what is it you do, Miss Shimmer? Take care of the cemetery?”

A few steps of silence made her wonder if Sunset would respond, but then, “No. I just care for the Rainbow Gang’s graves because… because I knew them. I’m a teacher.”

“Oh, how delightful!” And Rarity meant it. To think that such a tiny town had a place of learning was refreshing. Most small towns she visited had nothing of the sort. “You teach the children of Little Longhorn, then?”

“Uh… yeah.” Though only the back of her head could be seen, Sunset’s tone suggested that she wasn’t used to such an enthusiastic reaction. “I do evening classes for the thestral foals and morning classes for the rest.”

Rarity cocked her head. “That’s curious. Wouldn’t it be better to teach them all at the same time? It’s bound to be an easier schedule for you.”

Heaving a sigh, shoulders slumping, Sunset nodded. “It would be, yeah. But the Gang’s earth ponies refuse to let their kids associate with ‘them freaky bat ponies.’ Direct quote. The others go along with it so as to not offend them.” She turned off the road once they reached the town well, approaching a small home architecturally identical to all the ones around it, albeit with an actual door. She pushed said door open, its hinges creaking noisily. “You can tie your lizard up to the signpost round the back of the house. Come on in when you’re ready.”

The door shut, and Rarity was left alone with Ophelia in the yard. A number of things occurred to her in that moment. The first was that Sunset’s house appeared to be in need of greater maintenance than those around it. Part of the front wall was visibly rotting and it would come as no surprise to her if that roof leaked, what with its thin layer of thatch. The second thing was that leaking was actually an issue here in the Eastline, what with the Atlantian Coast only a hundred or so miles to the east. Rain, a true luxury in the majority of Equestria. Rarity rather missed it. Much like grass, which seemed to be present in great abundance here.

Third, Sunset didn’t appear to have a way to lock her door. Given what Rarity had seen of the citizens here, that was worrying, but at least she had a door at all. It appeared flimsy, and as such would serve poorly as a barrier against intruders. She feared that might have been the point. She took the extra time to walk around the square, idly investigating the other houses, and saw the same design on the very few that sported doors. And given the lack of ponies present, she suspected this was a thestral neighborhood.

“Something doesn’t feel right about all this, Ophelia,” she murmured, guiding her steed to the back of Sunset’s home. She found herself on another road, the houses along the street coming right up to it. It seemed to Rarity a waste of space, but who was she to judge? Finding the suggested sign post – directing ponies to what was likely Little Longhorn’s only saloon – she tied Ophelia up and got the lizard’s feed bag off the saddle. “Here you go. Be a good girl and wait for Mommy, hmm? And if you see any Bad Apples, don’t think you need my permission to sit on them.” Ophelia replied with that unique toothy smile of hers before burying her muzzle in the feed.

Her mount taken care of, Rarity headed back to the front door, although not before noting that there was a back door available, also flimsy in appearance.

With the package tucked into her backpack, she returned to the front of the house. She entered after a polite knock, just to keep from startling her host. Sunset’s home was even smaller on the inside than it had appeared on the outside. The main room included both the front and back doors and featured the majority of the home’s furnishings: kitchen, tiny table with three mismatched chairs, a standing rack in the corner with clothes, and what appeared to be a workstation covered in tools and trinkets. A doorless passage to Rarity’s left showed a bedroom barely big enough to hold the lone bed. She could only guess as to what the second doorway led to.

Sunset was at the kitchen counter, cleaning what looked to be a cabbage in the wash basin. She looked up at Rarity’s arrival and finally regained that excited smile from earlier. “Oh, good! Close the door?”

Rarity wasn’t sure what good that would do in terms of privacy when there were open windows, but she obliged. Pulling the package out of her pack, she handed it to Sunset, who bounced from hoof to hoof. The mare hurried to the workstation, tail flicking wildly as she ripped the wrapping paper to shreds with her magic. “I’ve been looking forward to this for seasons!”

“So I’ve heard,” Rarity replied with an amused smile. “Does it really get that cold in the Eastline? A Hearthstone seems like quite the investment for a teacher.”

“Oh, I’m not in it for the heat,” Sunset replied. “I’m in it for the study.” At last she pulled the item from the package. The stone itself was pitch black, like coal, but smooth and with a glass-like appearance. Small enough to fit easily in a palm, it was mounted within a wooden stand of oak, itself marked with the name of the maker. Moving with something akin to reverence, Sunset put the stand on her workbench.

“The study?” Rarity repeated, moving a little closer to observe as Sunset pulled a bundle of blank paper from a drawer. Her eyes boggled at the sheer number of sheets; that couldn’t have come cheap! “The study of what?”

“Magic, of course.” Prepping a quill and some ink jars, Sunset explained, “I have a gift with magic, but could never go to Manehattan or Seaddle for study. I have to make do with what I can get, and that usually means reverse engineering things like this. It’s a grinding process, but I make do.” She grabbed the quill in her magic and began dictating, the quill scribbling her words down. “Preliminary analysis. The Hearthstone is built into a simple wooden apparatus, undoubtedly intended for display purposes. Will consider removing from stand after initial study. The stone itself is of some black gem of an unclear nature. I’m not sure what the gem is, but—”

“Diopside.”

Sunset paused, then turned to Rarity with brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

Rarity gestured to the stone. “The gem is Diopside. It has no value in the Bank’s gem conversion system, but it has some value for enchanting, and so some geode farms still produce them as a cheaper alternative to, say, Feldspar or Vivianite.”

Ears perking, Sunset asked, “You know gemstones? Are you a gemologist?”

“Self-taught, but I studied it quite a bit.” Rarity smiled as she recalled her childhood pouring over thick tomes in a brief obsession with learning everything about the diamonds on her flank. “They became a major side-element of my original profession, back before fate decided I should be what I am today.”

Sunset’s eyes darted between the Hearthstone and Rarity as she licked her lips. Shifting with visible indecision, head bowed, she eventually asked, “In that case, is, uh, is there anything else you can tell me about this… what was it called?”

“Diopside.” At Sunset’s slightly panicked expression, Rarity offered a reassuring smile and spelled the name out for her. Once sure that had been done correctly, she said, “Well, it’s good at holding general, small-scale enchantments, but it doesn’t have significant rigidity against magical forces. It can be very easy to break Diopside gems by forcing too much magic into them. Since this is a lower-quality gemstone, it will likely be more fragile than most, so I don’t recommend pushing too much magic in it if you want it to last longer than, say, a season.”

Sunset’s beaming expression faltered. “Oh…”

Grinning, Rarity waved a dismissive hand. “Not to worry, darling. This will do what it was designed to do with only the slightest touch of magic. Again, it’s very good at channeling small quantities in a controlled charge. Observe.” Lighting her horn, she touched the Hearthstone with the faintest bit of magic she could. Reaching her hand over it, she found it was already producing a slight warmth. “Just a little love tap of Blue Magic to get it going. It’ll take some time to reach its full output, but better to wait than to risk damaging the gem and ruining the enchantment.”

Sunset’s quill furiously scribbled as Rarity spoke, and the mare herself had a grin that might have qualified as disturbing. “This is amazing! What did I do right to luck out and get a delivery mare who also understands gem enchanting?”

Rarity tried not to fret over the heat coming to her cheeks. Tittering anxiously, she replied, “Oh, I wouldn’t call myself an expert. I understand the gems’ properties, but have no clue how to actually enchant one. It’s all book knowledge, really.”

“That’s more than anything I’ve got.” Sunset began to toy with her mane, her other hand drumming its fingers on the workbench. “S-say, if you don’t have anywhere to go in a hurry, do you think you could share your knowledge with me?”

As far as Rarity could see, she had no reason whatsoever to refuse such a request. It wasn’t like leaving a day later would impact how much she earned from this job, and she wasn’t headed back to Hoofington after this anyway. Besides, Rarity had a certain suspicion, and her conscience wouldn’t let her leave without seeing it confirmed or denied. So, with a warm smile, she declared, “I would love to.”

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