Diamond Jewel’s P.O.V:
 
Before I left Canterlot, I just had to ask where Rarity’s located. While I wanted to consult to father at first, I just don’t know whether he’d endorse my decision to meet mother or not, my real mother. A mix of emotions were running through me; displeasure, irritation, dejection, suspense, awe… happiness.
 
With a seemingly burning passion, a burning desire, I encountered Jet Set before promptly vacating Canterlot.
 
“Why hello, Diamond! Leaving so soon? Did you not enjoy that party last night in the Canterlot Gardens?” He pondered, scratching his head.
 
“Why of course I did!” I exclaimed. “I’m just wondering… do you happen to know who this Rarity mare is?”
 
“Rarity?… Oh, Rarity! The Equestria famous fashion designer? Of course! How have you not heard of her sooner?” He inquired.
 
“Eheh… umm… well… let’s just say I don’t get out as much as I’d like to admit,” I replied sheepishly.
 
“Fair enough,” Jet Set stated. “Was there something you were wondering about her?”
 
“Oh. Oh, yes! Do you know where she is at this hour?” I ask.
 
“Mhm. Yes. She may likely be in Ponyville at Sweet Apple Acres at the moment. If not, look around Manehattan. I know she certainly isn’t here, however, since she only comes to the Canterlot Boutique on Tuesdays. In the meantime Sassy Saddles will fill in for her the~~”
 
“Thank you very much!” I adjourn, yelling back at him over reverberated hills. While I’d like to stop and catch up with Jet Set, there was much more important matters to attend to and I knew I couldn’t waste another second trying to explain myself to him.
 
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
 
Diamond Jewel’s P.O.V:
 
Musty, mucky smells of pigs and cattle were two things I noticed when I first stepped hoof on the farm. I’d smelt a lot worse repugnant things, but what needed to be done had to be done sooner as opposed to later.
 
“Hello?” I called out. “Hello? Any pony home?”
 
For a brief moment, there was no answer until I saw a young, blonde colt pop up in front of me promptly, startling me every so slightly.
 
“Hello!” He exclaimed exuberantly. His sky blue eyes began to narrow and sparkle, intrigued by my presence. “Who are ya comin’ here dressing up all prissy? Are ya one of ma’s friends? Or… maybe one of Clare’s?”
 
“M-mom?!” I shook my head out, my heart thumping more rapidly. All my feelings of early confidence seemed to have sunk deep into the depths of my chest. Could it really be? Could it really be that Rarity, my mother, now had a family of her own after all these years and had forgotten about me? No! I couldn’t jump to these random culminations again. It’s just not right. I shook these ideas out of my head for a concise moment.
 
“Are you alright miss?” The colt questioned.
 
“I’m… I’m fi~~”
 
I paused within my words, letting them fall and spread into the afternoon air as I contemplated a unicorn filly as she came out from the barn door. She had to be at least a good ten years younger than me and looked almost like a spitting-image of Rarity or I (depending on how you view it). That could not just be a coincidence, I thought. Her hair is like Rarity’s but a lighter purple color with streaks of light yellow-orange in the mix as well. Her coat color is a light purple with blue-green eyes that reminded me of my days exploring the seas.
 
“Who is this mare, Calvados?” The filly finally asked, breaking through the silence like a hammer breaking through a wall.
 
“I dunno. A friend of ma’s, I think. D’ya wanna talk to her?” Calvados directed to me.
 
Awe-struck, I nodded hesitantly, extra thoughts clouding up my train of thought.
 
“‘Kay, come with m~~”
 
“WAIT!” I blurted out right as the small colt was about to take my hoof. “Rarity, r-right? Your momma is THE famous Rarity from Canterlot?” I needed further confirmation of my suspicions.
 
“Oh…” Calvados looked down at the ground in embarrassment. “So you aren’t a friend of ma’s? You just wanted a dress?”
 
“No… n-not exactly, dear,” I huffed, my heart picking up its pace again, my face sweating perpetually.
 
“Then what do ya want with her?” Calvados inquired.  
“I… it’s kind of hard to explain. I just want to talk to her about something, but… but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of… rejection,” I explained numbly.
 
“Ohhhhh,” Calvados replied. “I’m so stupid.”
 
“No you’re not!” The older filly assured her younger brother, stepping in.
 
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
 
Cross-Stitch Clarity’s P.O.V:
 
“Look… I get why you’re curious, Calvados, I really do, but you need to give this mare her space. She clearly came here with a question for mother but is afraid of not being accepted for her ideas. And I get how that feels. Ma isn’t always one to accept what I make for her all the time so I see why she is rather nervous. You aren’t stupid, Calvados, just a bit shallow,” I expound.
 
“Shallow? And what’s that s’posed ta mean?!” He exclaimed.
 
“You’re asking too much questions. It’s alright to feel curious, but sometimes, asking too much questions can come off as… umm… how do I put this? Immature? Rude? Uncomfortable in another pony’s eyes?” I replied hesitantly.
 
“Fiiinnneeee,” Calvados exhaled, rolling his eyes and moving abroad to help out mother AJ with some additional chores out in the fields.
 
“Th-thank you…” The anomalous mare said, her eyes glistening.
 
“Not a problem,” I say. “So… when would you like to speak with her?”
 
“I’d rather get it over-with,” The mare stated bluntly.
 
“Okay. Then go right ahe~~”
 
“NO!” She interrupted abruptly. “I mean- I-I… can you come with me? I know it’s a lot to take in, but… you’d know how to handle her best being that you grew up with her, after all. You know what she’s like. I just… wish I did.”
 
“What do you~~” I ceased as quick as the words spilled out of my mouth and looked up at the mare sympathetically.
 
I know I looked quite dumb, er… dumbfounded at that moment, but I couldn’t shut my mouth as soon as it fell open. I knew that look on her face. I knew that guilty look, that sad, confused, angry look within her eyes. She felt abandoned. She felt ignored. And there had to have been a valid reason as to why her semblance and physique looked fairly similar to mine and my mother’s.
 
“S-sister…?”
 
“Yes,” The mare responded.
 
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
 
Rarity’s P.O.V:
 
Excitement flowed through every ounce of my body.
 
“Eeee!” I squealed to myself. “I’m almost done with the dresses! How simply gorgeous they are. I sure hope the customers enjoy these.”
 
I frowned sullenly. If it weren’t for Clarity, I wouldn’t have had the inspiration to make my second one. While I appreciated my daughter’s efforts, her knitting simply wasn’t big enough to fit an actual pony. Her stitching also needed work. Not all the patterns looked correct, and some were a bit too convoluted.
 
Guilt still loomed inside me for making her feel oh so awful about her work. Next time I saw her… I knew I needed to apologize and make her feel wanted. She has always been a very special filly and even if her work wasn’t perfect, with time I knew it would be. I wanted to make her feel wanted in my life again.
 
A brisk knock came from outside my door.
 
“Who is it?” I ask.
 
“It’s me, mom,” Cross-Stitch Clarity responded. “Can you… can you come outside so we can talk?”
 
Perfect timing! I thought, finishing up my last stitch. “Of course, darling! I’ll be right out!”
 
However, little did I know this wasn’t the type of “talk” I was expecting…
 
I skip out of the house exuberantly, glad the weight of things to do was finally lifted off me. “Ye~~” I stop dead in my tracks. My heart to have seemed to skipped a beat.
 
My mouth quivered, my knees began to lock up, my eyes had to have diminished quite a bit. Usually, I loved having good memory as well as a good taste in detail. It helped me get straight A’s on most of my tests unless I had other things I intended to do instead of heeding.
 
The young mare, my long-lost daughter, was gazing straight at me. I didn’t know what to say, what to feel. As soon as she looked at my face, her face seemed to scowl back in response. Clarity looked at me with confusion and concern lighting up her face at all angles.
 
Finally, the young mare spoke. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?!” She cried.
 
“T-tell you what?” I stammered.
 
Tears streamed out of her eyes like no tomorrow. “Why didn’t you visit me? Why didn’t you love me? Why don’t you care?!” She yelled, her voice becoming more shrill by the minute.
 
“I-I don’t kn-”
 
“Mother. You ARE my real mother. Now tell me why you did it? Do you still feel guilty about bringing me into this world? Are you ashamed of me? That IS why, isn’t it!” She snapped at me.
 
“No, no…” I say, my thoughts spiraling.
 
What had I done? Why couldn’t I ever bring myself to come out after that incident with Fancy Pants? She did have a right to know.
 
“Talk to me… TALK TO ME!” She wailed with Cross-Stitch peering timidly from behind, her face turning pale as if she’d seen a ghost.
 
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I simply couldn’t bear to hear her scream at me continually because of how ignorant and selfish I had been all these years. I turned around, tears flowing out of my eyes too as I slammed the barn door shut behind me, ramming into the barren walls.
 
I then began to sulk on my couch mournfully. All these years… all this time passed that could have been made into pleasurable memories with her. I was guilty and I’d wanted to forget all about how reckless I had been. But now…
 
I sniffled, feeling slightly light-headed.
 
I passed out.