Meeting at the Memorial (Invite)

Elegance raised an eyebrow. A sore topic, it seemed. Maybe it was best to avoid aggravating the ache, but part of Elegance wanted to poke around to find out more.

"You should try to reconcile, if you haven't already," she suggested idly, "They are your flesh and blood, and it is never a good thing when families go sour." She paused. "Then again, I am a noble, so family is emphasised in my life, and things really go sour when things break down."

"Oh? New blood or old blood?"

It was a classic question. Many ponies today claimed nobility, saying that their mere wealth, power and influence made them of a higher breed than their fellow ponies. They are what ponies like Elegance called 'new blood', in contrast to the 'old blood' or 'true nobility', the her and the old families represented. Those not in the know would be surprised at how different the two groups were. Whilst the new blood tried to prove their worth through big words and flashy actions, the old blood simply were and let hundreds of years of service do the validation for them. Sentiment expressed it best, Elegance thought. While the new blood persued the latest fashion endlessly chasing the newest clothes season after season, the old blood knew that true style was not determined by the wallet, but by the way you presented yourself. 'A newblood makes a 10, 000 bit dress cheap and nasty, whilst an oldblood can pull off grandeur with nothing at all.'

If Elegance was to guess, Cerise was probably a newblood. The young noblepony's classical education made her well read with the old family names, and her tea companion was not one that came up. She doubted whether Amy knew the name of her greatgrandfather.

"Fortune may favour a fool, but fate forgets in the fullness of time," Elegance mused, "Self made souls shine bright yet seldomly stand the steady march of the generations." She then turned a stern gaze to Amy. "Most probably new blood, Ms Cerise. The alternative would have no question about who they were."

Never forget your past. If you know where you come from, you can know where you're going. If you know where you're going, you can know where you are. Know where you are - know who you are - know how to be better.

Semper cogitemus nos semper excolamus.

"Pretty," she commented as she observed the flower, "But despite its prettiness, flowers don't last that long, do they?"

"I suppose," Elegance shrugged noncomittally, not wanting to start an uneeded argument, "If you look at it that way. But a flower by itself doesn't mean much at all, unless you look at it's function and purpose. It doesn't inherently carry any more meaning than that, besides the bits we apply to it."

She could vaguely recall something bout the language of flowers in her symbolism classes, but she'd never really cared to remember the particlars. Flowers lived and died too quickly for Elegance's taste. Trees were better. They had a great many years of depth for their splendour.

"A past, the past..." Elegance began slowly, "is so important, though. It's where all our triumphs and failures are, and in the end, it will be all that remains of us. I do not think it wise to dimiss it so easily like that."

"Easy doesn't mean right," Elegance said harshly, "Wrongs must be righted, no matter how painful the process must be. All of us have an obligation."

She sighed. "Forgive me. I don't mean to lecture. But these things I feel strongly about, so it's hard for me not to."

Elegance fell into silence after that, staring into her teacup, as though reading what a possible future might hold.