The ruby button wasn’t quite perfect.

Rarity’s eyes narrowed the tiniest fraction of an inch, the only sign of her displeasure. For the past thirty minutes, she had tinkered with this damned coat, the last cold-weather item in her line-up for the year, but the button on its lapel simply refused to cooperate. It was either too big, too small, in the wrong place, wrong color, wrong shape, or simply out of order.

It wasn’t even a functioning button; there was no corresponding button-hole for it to mate with. It existed merely for decoration, which Rarity wasn’t sure she approved of in the first place. But in matters of fashion, one moved with the flow of public opinion, and public opinion this season said that ladies’ coats should have an extra button just above the left breast pocket. A simple spring coat was not the time or place to try something radically different; a coat was a coat was a coat. She just happened to make coats that were sublimely beautiful as well as functional.

Except for this one damn button, which wasn’t functional at all. She grunted quietly and set her needle down. A quick break with some tea would help her think.

She wandered over to her kettle, one of the new electric models that heated its own water. No magic, no fire, just electricity. It made her a little nervous every time she plugged it in, but as far as she was aware, no pony had been killed by one yet.

Rain mixed with sleet ticked against her window while she waited for the water to boil. Winter, according to the calendar hanging on her office wall, was due to end next week. The weather pegasi, however, apparently had no calendars up in the clouds. The weather had grown progressively worse over the past several days, from merely overcast skies to a cold drizzle to this mess. She stared out the window until it fogged from her breath, then sighed and turned away.

They’re getting ready for Winter Wrap-Up back in Ponyville. You could be there. It’s not too late to go home.

Except it was. She had a dozen orders on tap, all of which required her personal touch. Jaunt back home to Ponyville on a whim? Her customers would be incensed.

The kettle whistled for her attention. After a few moments of contemplation, she selected a nice jasmine blend from her collection and dropped the bag in the pot.

“Excuse me, Miss Rarity?” Her assistant, Thimble, stuck her head through the door. “There’s a telegram for you.”

“Just set it in the mail pile, dear,” Rarity said. She floated a pair of porcelain cups out of her cupboard. “Would you like some tea? I just brewed a pot of the jasmine.”

“Oh, no thank you, ma’am. The jasmine makes me a bit jittery.” The earth pony giggled. “The telegram was marked ‘urgent,’ though. Are you sure you wouldn’t like it now?”

Urgent? Rarity frowned. “Well, that’s different. Let’s take a look.” She floated the sealed envelope from Thimble’s grip and examined the label. It was from the Ponyville post office. A cold wash of fear broke over her. Sweetie Belle? She tore the envelope open and pulled out the single page inside.

TO RARITY STOP THERE HAS BEEN AN ACCIDENT STOP RAINBOW DASH IS HURT SOARIN IS DEAD STOP RETURN TO PONYVILLE I WILL MEET YOU AT THE TRAIN STATION AT SIX PM TODAY STOP TWILIGHT SPARKLE

To Rarity’s eternal shame, her first reaction was relief. It wasn’t Sweetie Belle. The guilt that followed such a selfish thought nearly caused her to vomit. A wave of dizziness spun through her head as the full meaning of the message settled in, and she realized she was sitting on her haunches.

“Rarity? Rarity? Are you alright?” Thimble’s face was just inches away, and her eyes were wide with alarm. “Is... is it your–”

“No,” Rarity said. Her voice sounded like it was coming from a thousand miles away. “Sweetie is fine. I need... I need to...” She paused to swallow – her mouth was suddenly dry as a stone. “I need to make a trip, Thimble. Can you and Weave hold the shop down for a few days? No, a week?”

“Uh...” Thimble took a step back. “Yes, I think we can. If we don’t take new orders, we can finish out the current projects. Can we use your fabrics?”

“Yes, of course. Anything.” Normally Rarity kept her own supplies of special fabrics and accessories for her projects. But Thimble and Weave were her most skilled apprentices, and if they were running the shop they would need the best materials. “Would you go tell the shop I’ll be gone for at least a few days? I need to visit some friends.”

“Yes, ma’am. Is there anything you need from us?”

Rarity glanced at the clock. It was already noon, and the train ride to Ponyville took several hours. She had to leave now.

“No, I’ll be fine,” she said. “Just keep things running here. You’ll do fine.” She pushed herself back to her hooves and stepped around Thimble to the door.

For the first time in her life, Rarity went on a trip without packing a thing.

“Destination?”

“Ponyville. The express, please.” Rarity pushed a wad of bits across the counter to the teller, a tan earth pony wearing a set of fashionable clerk’s glasses. He counted through them, then punched a few keys on the machine in front of him. Moments later, it spat out a thin stub of paper, which he tore off and pushed back to her.

“Thank you.” She gave the ticket a quick glance before trotting off to the departure platform. According to the stub, she would be arriving in Ponyville at 5:55 p.m. Of course Twilight would have checked the train schedule.

The platform was filled with about a dozen other mares and stallions, mostly earth ponies. One couple herded a trio of young fillies around the benches. Another older couple sat and watched them with smiles.

Soarin is dead. She barely knew him, but it was still a shock. She had known ponies who died, but only older mares and stallions whose time had come. Never something like this. Never somepony with as much life left in them as him.

And Rainbow Dash. Couldn’t Twilight have put at least a single word in that telegram, to say how bad she was hurt? She could be scratched or she could be dying, for all Rarity knew.

A colt about Sweetie’s age passed, a large bundle of newspapers on his back. He opened the display stand, pulled out the morning edition, and replaced them with several of the new papers. Rarity gave them an absent glance, then nearly tore the door off the poor display unit to pull one out.

“Three Killed in Cloudsdale Explosion,” read the headline. The grainy photo beneath showed a grey column rising from the ground below the city. Tiny specks – pegasi in flight – gave lie to the tremendous scale of the fire at the base of the smoke.

Oh Celestia, what happened? The article didn’t mention any names, but Soarin and Dash both lived in Cloudsdale. Barring some incredible coincidence, this had to be the accident Twilight mentioned in the telegram. Rarity skimmed the article for anything useful, but the text was distressingly low on real information. Even the barest facts were in dispute: nopony knew what caused the explosion, or how many ponies were hurt, or whether a smaller explosion had preceded the massive blast in the photo, as some witnesses claimed.

A loud whistle broke her concentration. The train to Ponyville was about to depart. Rarity folded the paper in half and boarded with the rest of the platform, and in minutes was on her way back home.

She stared out the window the entire ride. When the train arrived at five minutes until 6, she could not remember a single thing she saw.

“Rarity!” Twilight’s voice sounded over the babble of the crowd. Rarity craned her head around, wishing for not the first time that she were a tad taller. The ponies around her formed a pastel wall that only slowly cleared.

“Twilight!” she called. “Don’t move, I’m coming!” She shoved her way through the mass, muttering quiet apologies with each inadvertent shove. Eventually, she reached the edge of the platform, where Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie stood waiting.

Twilight was a little frazzled. Bits of her mane had come loose and pointed in odd directions, and her wings looked like somepony had fluffed her feathers against the grain, but aside from that and the tightness around her eyes she seemed well.

Pinkie did not. Her normally bright coat was pallid, and her mane hung in limp curls around her neck and shoulders. Bright blue eyes latched onto Rarity the moment she emerged from the crowd, and when she trotted forward for a hug, it was with a wooden gait entirely unlike her usual bouncing self.

Rarity gave her friend a tight squeeze, then carefully pushed away. “How is she?”

“She’s hurt,” Twilight said. She gave Rarity a quick, perfunctory hug, then abruptly turned away and began trotting down the stairs to the street below the platform. “C’mon. The others are waiting at the balloon.”

“Balloon?” Her hooves slid on the wet cobblestones as she raced to catch up. Puddles stained her coat a mottled gray with each splashing step. “What balloon?”

“My hot air balloon.” Twilight kept her quick pace and glanced at the sodden skies. “We need to hurry. It’s getting dark.”

“Why do we need your balloon?” Rarity asked. She had never seen Twilight like this. It was more than a little disconcerting.

“It’s the only way to get all of us to Cloudsdale,” Twilight said. She picked up her pace, darting around a shuttered cabbage stand. “It’ll be tight with all of us, but it’s within tolerances.”

Yes. Five wet ponies stuffed in that little basket. Rarity grimaced at the thought. It would be cold up there, too, and she hadn’t brought anything but the light tan scarf she currently wore. “Can’t Fluttershy just, well, fly?”

“She’s already there,” Pinkie said. Rarity started in surprise; the earth pony was so quiet Rarity had forgotten she was there. “She flew up this morning.”

“They’ll be waiting for us at the hospital,” Twilight added. She didn’t even bother to look back over her shoulder as she spoke. “Now come on, it’s a long flight.”

“This... this is safe?”

“It’s perfectly safe.” Twilight was the first pony out of the basket after enchanting their hooves with her cloud-walking spell. Her feet sank a few inches into the cottony fluff beneath them, rather than plummeting through the mist and into the miles-deep chasm that was the air below Cloudsdale. Of course, she didn't need the spell, so that was less than comforting.

Applejack climbed half out of the basket, straddling the edge with one set of legs while she tested the cloudstuff with her hooves. Apparently satisfied, she hopped down beside Twilight. “Yup, just like last time.”

Right, just like last time. Except last time was filled with not-so-pleasant memories for Rarity. She let out a nervous breath and carefully climbed over the edge of the basket. After a quick, silent prayer, she let go and fell the last few inches.

“See? Safe,” Twilight said. She waited for Pinkie to join them on the platform, which was rapidly becoming crowded with curious pegasi. Apparently, unicorns and earth ponies were still a rare sight in Cloudsdale. “Now, where is he? He said he’d meet us here.”

“He who?” Rarity asked. She gave the cloud a careful stomp with her hoof, but it held easily. A small indent remained when she lifted her leg, gone a second later as the cloud reformed. Like walking on water.

“Cloud Fire,” Twilight said. She sounded distracted as she scanned the crowd. “He was supposed to—aha!” She stopped as an athletic young pegasus stallion dressed in the Wonder Bolt’s distinctive uniform alighted on their platform. He pushed his way through the crowd until he stood before them.

“Princess, ladies, thank you for coming.” His uniform, Rarity now saw, was in disarray, with several buttons undone and his rank insignia crooked, as though he had dressed in a hurry. He gave their feet a curious glance before continuing. “We had a chariot available, but I see we won’t be needing it. And you must be Rarity?”

Rarity gave a little start at being singled out. “Er, yes. Cloud Fire, was it? Delighted.” She turned her head to the others. “You’ve already met?”

“Yup. Cloudy was with the Bolts when they came to Ponyville last year,” Applejack said.

“You remember, the show you weren’t able to come home for?” Twilight’s voice was sharp enough to draw blood. Rarity actually flinched.

“Aha, yes, that one.” Rarity cleared her throat. “It’s just that things were so busy around the shop and all...” She trailed off. The others had already started moving, following behind Cloud Fire as he presumably led the way to the hospital. She hurried to catch up.

Well, fuck you too, Twilight.

Cloudsdale Memorial Hospital had real floors, Rarity was surprised to see. Actual linoleum, polished to a bright shine, clicked beneath her hooves. She said so to the girls, desperate for a new conversation topic.

“Hm?” Twilight glanced down, as if noticing for the first time. “Oh, right. It’s a law, I think. Nothing in here is made from clouds, in case they have to treat a unicorn or earth pony for some reason.”

“Or, more frequently, if a mare gives birth to a non-pegasus foal,” Cloud Fire said. “It happens more often than you’d think.”

“Bet that’s awkward,” Applejack chipped in.

“I hope to never find out,” Cloud Fire said. “Anyway, there’s a waiting room on the third floor we’re using. It might be a tad crowded in there, but we can kick ponies out if we have to. The captain says you five have priority.”

Five? Rarity’s head snapped up. “Is Fluttershy here?”

He nodded. “Got here a few hours ago. I don’t think she’s seen the LT yet. The docs won’t let anyone in.”

“The... el-tee?” Rarity whispered to Applejack. She wasn’t eager to advertise her ignorance to Twilight again so soon.

“He means Dash,” Applejack whispered back. “She’s a lieutenant.”

Right, that whole military thing. Rarity had never bothered to get all the details of the Wonder Bolts service to the crown. They didn’t seem like the guards she was used to at the palace, with their stern bearing and discipline. If anything, the Wonder Bolts had more in common with a fashion show than a soldier, strutting their stuff in front of cheering crowds, signing autographs, and meeting with throngs of fans. But apparently some vestige of their military origins survived in the form of ranks.

“Is Spitfire here?” Twilight asked. Their group stopped at an elevator at the end of the hallway and waited for the car to arrive. Rarity gave the sign beside the buttons a quick glance and bit her lip at what she saw.

3rd floor - Intensive Care Unit, Burn Ward, Flight Medicine, Neurology

“No, she’s meeting with the families.” Cloud Fire gave the already lit button an impatient tap. “She’s very busy right now.”

“And how are you?” Pinkie’s voice, unexpected, sounded from beside Rarity. They were her first words since arriving in Cloudsdale.

“I’m fine. I wasn’t at the training site today.” He gave the button another fierce stab with the tip of his hoof.

“I meant, how are you—”

“I said I’m fine!” Cloud Fire struck the button hard enough to crack the clear plastic cover. A moment later the light went out, and the doors parted to receive them.

It was a quiet ride to the third floor.

Fluttershy was waiting for them in, appropriately enough, the waiting room. She rose to her hooves with a graceful flap of her wings and trotted over to sweep them all into a group hug, with Rarity somehow squeezed beneath the two earth ponies. The experience left her wheezing for breath when they finally broke.

The silence stretched out as they held each other. Eventually, Cloud Fire cleared his throat.

“So, I’ve got to get back to the captain,” he said. “If you need any help, just ask one of the Bolts. They’ll be glad to help.”

Fluttershy looked up. “Will you be okay?”

More silence. Rarity bit her lip.

“Yeah,” was all he said. Without another word, he turned and left.

“He didn’t look okay,” Pinkie said. Her eyes were fixed on the door even after it swung shut behind him.

“He’s just upset,” Fluttershy said. She floated gently away from them, back to a row of empty seats. “He was supposed to be at the practice today, but he traded shifts with Soarin.”

Oh. Ohhhh. Rarity glanced back at the door. “Soarin... Is he...”

“He didn’t make it.” Fluttershy’s voice was subdued, but with none of the timidity Rarity remembered. Perhaps she had been gone from Ponyville too long after all.

“Right. That’s what the letter said, but...” She trailed off again. Why hadn’t anypony asked yet? Surely they were all wondering. “I’m sorry, I have to ask. How is she? When can we see her?”

“She’ll live,” Fluttershy said. The others looked at her with only slightly less stricken expressions. “They finished operating about an hour ago. The surgeon said they were able to save her leg.”

Save her leg? Fluttershy might as well have spoken in a foreign language, so thoroughly did Rarity’s mind fail to process that simple sentence. Save her leg?

“Can we see her?” Applejack asked. She took a tentative step toward the door.

“Not until she wakes up.” Fluttershy settled back onto her seat. “The doctors will have to assess her first. You should probably sit down. It will be a while.”

Save her leg? Seriously, what did that even mean? Rarity stood rooted to the spot while the others took seats in the row beside Fluttershy. Pinkie Pie and Applejack sat with their heads beside each other in low voices. Twilight worried at her hooves until Fluttershy gave her a gentle nuzzle.

Save it from what?

“Rarity?”

Surely they couldn’t mean that? She had never even seen a pony with a missing limb. How would that even work? Did they make special clothes for those ponies?

“Rarity, why don’t you sit down?”

And what would Rainbow Dash look like without a leg? Rarity simply couldn’t picture it. She could see Rainbow Dash, see that cocky grin on her face, but couldn’t imagine her hurt. She couldn’t imagine any of her friends hurt. Wounded. Less than whole. In pieces. Like Soarin.

“She’s going to—” The rest was lost as the world went grey.

“I’m sorry. I was a little... short with you back there, wasn’t I?”

“It’s quite alright, dear. It’s been a long day for all of us,” Rarity said. Beside her, a miserable-looking Twilight Sparkle moped in her seat, looking as beaten and worn as anytime Rarity could remember. Her head hung below her shoulders; her normally razor-straight mane was soft and frizzy, with errant tufts breaking away in every direction. Deep bags circled red, puffy eyes.

She looked like Rarity felt. Nearly ten hours had passed in the waiting room since she had fainted on the cold linoleum floor. It was not the most humiliating experience she had ever shared with them, nor was it even in the top three such moments, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant.

“Yes, but you didn’t deserve that.” Twilight sniffed quietly. “I’m sorry. Again, I mean.”

“I know.” Rarity leaned over to brush her cheek against Twilight’s shoulder. “But let’s worry about Dash, for now.”

“Right, Dash.” Twilight gave the waiting room door a furtive glance. It hadn’t budged since Cloud Fire returned over an hour before. Now he and Fluttershy sat beside each other, dozing quietly in their seats. In the next row, Pinkie and Applejack sat with their heads pressed together. Their ears flicked about with nervous energy, the only outward sign that they were still awake.

Pegasi, earth ponies and unicorns. What a coincidence. Even after all these years, she still thought of Twilight Sparkle as a unicorn, even though the princess's wings rubbed against her side with each breath. Rarity briefly considered sitting beside Fluttershy, just to break up the tribal groupings, but abandoned the idea as ill considered. Twilight needed her company, and the others were doing just fine with each other. There was no need to stir things up.

“So... what happens next?” Twilight whispered. “What do we do?”

“I think it depends on Dash’s... condition.” Rarity paused on the word and immediately wished she could take it back. Condition, like Dash was a young pregnant mare. She made a face at her stumble, but continued. “And we’ll need to help her through the funeral. Funerals.”

“Right, funerals.” Twilight’s eyes widened, as though she hadn’t even considered them yet. “How do they...” She cleared her throat. “I mean, what kind of ceremony do they perform?”

“I haven’t the slightest, I’m afraid.” Rarity had been to funerals, of course, but only for earth ponies or unicorns. Whatever rites pegasi performed for their dead, they did them far from the ground. The chilling thought occurred to her that they might not even be invited to the funeral.

“We can ask Fluttershy,” Twilight said after a pause. “She’ll know. She’ll know how to help Dash, too.”

That seemed like an optimistic assessment of the situation. Rarity held her tongue, though, and set her head back on her crossed forelegs. Twilight frowned at something only she could see, and they lapsed back into silence.

Some time later – hours, maybe? Rarity had lost track – the door squeaked open, and a pale yellow mare in a white uniform stepped in. She caught Cloud Fire’s attention and beckoned him out into the hallway. A moment later he returned, alone, and cleared his throat loudly enough to wake the still-dozing ponies.

“She’s awake. The docs are doing some tests, but we can start seeing her in a few minutes.”

“How is she?” one of the Wonder Bolts asked. Rarity hadn’t bothered to get his name – they all looked the same in their uniforms, anyway.

“She’s better,” Cloud Fire said. “No permanent damage, and her wings are fine. Very lucky.”

A terrible weight lifted from Rarity’s shoulders. A visible wave of relief spread through the small crowd, and a few smiles even broke out on their faces. Very lucky, indeed. Except, of course...

“Does she know?” Rarity asked. “About Soarin?”

Silence. Cloud Fire looked down at his hooves.

“Not yet.” He let out a long breath. “And I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to tell her. I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, someone has to,” Applejack said. “You can’t keep it from her.”

No one argued her point, but no one spoke to it either. Eyes darted around; ears twitched nervously, waiting for a pony to volunteer. For a moment, the collective gaze settled on Rarity, and panic clutched her heart. Me?! No, somepony else can do it, I can’t. I can’t, I can’t—

“I’ll do it.” Fluttershy’s voice, soft but steady, broke the stillness. “Applejack, can you come with me?”

“Uh...” Applejack took an involuntary step back, and only Rarity was close enough to see the flash of fear in her eyes. To the mare’s credit, though, it was gone in an instant. She gave Fluttershy a jerky nod and followed behind her out the waiting room. The awful silence descended again.

They stared at each other, the room full of ponies. They waited, unsure of what they waited for. The minutes ticked by, and it seemed to Rarity that their collective dread grew with each passing second. Only a door away, their friend’s life was about to be destroyed.

They were waiting for an execution.

Finally, a high sound broke through the quiet hiss of the ventilation system. A faint wail, like a crying foal, that rose and fell with the rhythm of breath. Louder, then softer. It pierced Rarity’s mind like a needle.

It was too much. She turned, and ignoring the shocked looks on her friends’ faces, simply left.