Mirror the Shimmer

My name's Sunset Shimmer. You will just call me Shimmer. Got it?

What's that? You want an intro? Fuck you. This is my story and I'll tell it how I want to. And that story starts when I was just fourteen years old... but the version you're getting begins right here.

I always hated the town I grew up in. Too small, too plain, too Earth Tribe, and with the big city practically in sight just on the horizon, mocking me. My family thought it would be a good place to raise a child; shows how much they knew. As soon as my ticket out of this dump arrived, I got on the first plane to Manehattan and swore I'd never look back. I never would have come back to this place at all if Suri Polomare hadn't bitched at me about wanting to see my hometown.

It was after dark, and me and Suri were cruising my old streets with the roof down, blasting Sapphire Shores and honking at cute guys. We were both drunk, her more than me, and she wouldn't stop leaning over the side and gawking at just about everything. "Oh my gawd," she kept screaming into my ear, and I was sure she was doing the inflection just to annoy me. "You actually used to live here?"

"Yeah," I grunted back, avoiding eye contact. Truth was, I was getting bored. It had been funny at first seeing Suri never-left-Manehattan-in-her-life Polomare drunkenly freaking out over how small everything was, but it looked like it wasn't going to sink in anytime soon that these blocky streets were all there was to see. The closest thing this neighborhood had to a bar was a lovey-dovey sugar cafe, and we'd used up most of our sacks of flour on the local landmarks. Maybe she thought that seeing where I was raised would help her get inside my head? Fat chance; I wasn't like her starry-eyed socialite circle, and she should have known it.

It was obvious to everyone (except possibly Suri herself) that she and I were only friends because we were using each other. Our paths would never have crossed otherwise; she'd slept her way through beauty school and made clothing lines without having had an original idea in her life, and I studied physics by day and killed monsters by night. She needed a means of travel, and I needed a foot through certain doors. That, and she could mix a killer cocktail. I knew someday she'd find out for sure what my hobby was, or maybe she'd just get bored of me and we'd stab each other in the back. For now, we made it work.

We both felt nervous taps on our shoulders. "Um, girls?" Coco Pommel mumbled from the back seat. "Our itinerary says we're supposed to get up early tomorrow, so maybe we should-"

"Shut the fuck up, Coco!" I yelled, swerving around to knock her back onto her seat. Suri cackled while I seethed. Why we'd had to bring Coco along was another of Suri's mysteries, seeing how she'd done nothing but whine the whole time. Now we'd have to stay out here another half hour just to spite her; didn't she ever learn?

Even over our music, a distant strain of something caught my ear. Not knowing why at first, I followed it. The streets got more familiar as we went on, and my stomach tightened as I realized where we were going. Suri beat me to it. "Oh my gawd," she yelled, pulling on my arm. "Is that your high school?"

Canterlot High. The place I'd left this town specifically to get away from. I'd been there for only six months, the most infuriating six months of my life. The place was run by a constantly tired woman and her raging alcoholic sister; I can't believe I'd used to look up to them when I was younger. On top of that, everyone was all school spirit this and magical lessons that, and you couldn't even eat lunch without a bunch of weirdos doing a choreographed song and dance right through the cafeteria. If it had been up to me, I'd have shaken the place up and instilled some proper order in it. Thankfully, those days were long gone.

Suri hung half out of the car. "Hey, I think there's a party up there?" she called.

She wasn't wrong. I screeched to a halt in front of the school, next to a line of other cars out front. Lights were flashing from somewhere inside, and ekes of music were spinning out of it. I wracked my brain for a reason for this; maybe it was prom night? It was around the right time of year.

For some reason, I was on edge. Something, right on the edge of sensation, was gnawing at me, the kind of sixth sense I'd trained myself not to ignore. The building looked different than I remembered, but I couldn't put my finger on why. That wasn't it, though. "I'm on vacation," I muttered to myself, trying to stomp it down as my fingers strangled the wheel. More mysteries was exactly what I didn't need. Between this and my companions' combined nagging, I was suddenly wishing that I'd had more to drink that night.

"Hey." Suri poked me, and I saw that she was holding up a football-sized bag of rye flour. Her grin got the message across. "One bag left."

Another glance at the school told me that this was exactly what I needed right now. "Oh fuck yes," I agreed, then reached into the backseat past trembling Coco and grabbed Mark Antony.

No one knew that it was called Mark Antony, obviously, or that it had a name at all. I was content to let Suri think my sledgehammer was just a fashion statement. If you're wondering why I didn't try for something more discrete, first off, go die, and second, you've obviously never tried to kill a changeling up close. Knives and swords just bounce off them. Guns are too loud, raise too many unnecessary questions, and always carry one fewer bullets than you need. If you want to get in a fight and live, you need something that can crush skulls. I'd say try it, but you'd probably fuck it up.

Suri and I piled out of the car and ran across the grounds. I let Mark Antony trail on the ground, ripping up grass. "Where do you want it?" Suri asked, juggling the bag from hand to hand.

"Right in front," I answered before she dropped it. We scurried past the statue of the Equestrian and got in position, bag and hammer at the ready. I focused my sights on the front doors. "This is for the friendship lectures, you bitch," I growled.

Her aim was bad. Mine wasn't. Suri tossed the bag like a football and I hit it like a baseball, cracking it open with a sound like a small bomb. A cloud of flour dusted us, but most of it flew past Suri and exploded a second time against the front of the school. The glass door cracked and broke. Thick, brownish dust caked itself over everything, safely protected by an arch so it wouldn't be washed away in the next rain. We laughed and I spat on the ground, brushing grains out of my eyes. "Dumb school," I muttered. It was a shame that was all we'd brought; if I'd known it was prom night, I would have prepared something way more spectacular.

Behind me, the roar of my engine and the chorus of Serves Her Right abruptly shut off. "What happened?" Coco called, still not getting it. "Is everything all right?"

"Shut the fuck..." My standard retort died on my lips. Now that our music was gone, the strains floating through the broken door were reaching me much more clearly. It sounded sappy, some kind of slow dance number, but there was something familiar about it that I couldn't quite place. I tried twice more to respond and then stumbled forward, as if in a daze. It called to me.

Suri was still cackling like a banshee, but she grabbed at my arm as I lurched past. "Hey, where are you going?" she said. "We should get out of here." I shrugged her off. The nagging feeling in my gut had gotten worse, and I had exactly one policy for dealing with things I didn't like.

The inside of the school was different than I remembered. For one thing, aside from the damage we'd just caused, it was clean; the pictures and displays were all neatly organized and untarnished, and the school's crest had been repainted without the massive slash down the moon's side. Maybe vice-principal Luna had finally gotten her act together and sobered up, but that would have taken some kind of miracle. At the door, Suri yelped; she'd cut her skirt trying to squeeze her fat ass after me through the broken frame. I ignored her and followed the singing, letting muscle memory carry me to the gym.

Someone was already at the door when we arrived, a purple girl with fake blond hair and a dress pulled out of someone's back room. She was peering through the door with a look of intense longing; basically, the kind of girl you want to dump a bucket of pig's blood on. Suri was less sophisticated in her teasing. "Aw, is the music too loud for you?" she jeered as we came up to her, probably the best her booze-addled mind could come up with.

"Something like that," the girl answered without looking at us. "I don't like parties."

"Really?" I grinned wickedly and hefted Mark Antony. "Me too."

Something in my voice made her flinch, and when she looked at me, magic happened. I'd meant to scare her, but the look of terror and confusion on her face was unlike anything I'd seen before, like a stunned bunny staring down a train. She shook once and then bolted down the hallway, pushing past Suri without even noticing her. I saw a glint as she turned; was she crying? Unfortunately, Suri had to do all the laughing for me. I could now hear the singing clearly.

"Every single sunrise you were there, and you are every moonrise that we share..."

Like a siren's song, it pulled me forward. I took the purple girl's place and cupped a hand around the window, peering in. If this was a prom, it was much less formal than mine had been. Dimly, I could make out balloons and streamers and a cake the size of me covered in candles. The dance floor was lit up; in the middle of it, another purple girl was dancing with a tall guy. They looked vaguely familiar. Suri poked me. "Shims, are you okay?" she slurred. "You're looking spaced out."

"You are every wonder in the skies, and every single star is in your eyes..."

I had to know. I'm kind of stupid like that. I kicked open the door.

You know that scene in the movies where the villain enters a room and everything goes dead silent? After years of trying, I finally, finally got that reaction. A flock of heads turned towards me and froze. The musicians simultaneously fumbled their instruments, producing a screech that faded to nothing. Stunned students backed away from the door while the dancers stayed still, clinging to each other. For a moment or two, it was just me, and the singer. "You're the Twilight of my..." she sang, then stopped as she felt the life being sucked out of the room. Her eyes opened, and they locked on mine.

That was when I knew what had drawn me here. I knew why her voice had called to me, pulling me across the school and maybe even further. Because that singer? She was me.

Silence fell completely. With practiced ease, I swallowed all emotions and let coldness fill me, taking in my surroundings but keeping all my focus on the fake me on the stage. My fingers played up Mark Antony's handle. "Suri, take Coco and go," I ordered.

She finally broke out of her trance. "Shims, what the fu-"

"I said go!" I snapped. I heard footsteps, but didn't care if they were hers. I took one deep breath to cleanse myself. Without intel, I had to assume that this imposter had been here for as long as I'd been gone, and with an entire school of impressionable students giving it their adoration? Tirek's beard, this was going to be a tough one. Gathering myself, I swung my sledgehammer over my head, because I'm a badass bitch first and a hero second, and charged.

Now there was noise; the crowd parted with gasps and yells. They weren't important. The fake Shimmer managed to surprise me. Normally a changeling that had been called out in such an obvious way would change to its true form or at least try to run. Even as the band cleared out behind it, this one just stayed where it was with a look that almost mirrored the purple girl from outside's, just gaping at me like I was something out of its nightmares. Not that changelings dream. As the screams finally started I leaped up onto the stage and then leaped again, raising my hammer over my head and unleashing a yell that I'd been building up all evening.

Something flashed between us. Propelled by something that had to be more than muscles, the purple girl from the dance floor flew past me and threw herself between me and my target. "No!" she cried as Mark Antony's head swung down.

Despite what you probably think, you can't stop a weapon mid-swing. Anyone who says they can wasn't going for the kill in the first place. Even so, I was just barely able to redirect myself so that it whistled past her face and smashed into the stage next to her foot. There was a crash like thunder, then an audible sound of dust settling. I glared at her as I straightened up. "Get out of my way."

"No." Even before the words left her mouth, other girls from the crowd were joining her. A rainbow-haired blue girl was first, then orange, white, pink, the tall guy she'd been dancing with, and then a frail yellow one who wrapped her arms around the fake Shimmer, forming a living wall between me and the creature who'd been killing them. It was sickening.

I took a defensive stance, raising my hammer slowly. It was tempting to just brain the ringleader with the handle and make my move, but I held back. "Get away from her," I spat. "She's not what you think she is!"

It was the purple girl's voice that spoke, but it came from behind me. "Yes she is."

I made the oldest mistake in the book and looked back. The blue girl broke formation and went for me; I dropped down and whacked her in the stomach. As she doubled over the orange one yelled something and threw a kick at me, and even though I was able to block it, the force of it knocked me flat on my ass. I braced for another blow; luckily, the pink and white girls were holding back the ones who'd attacked me. It was only once my fighting instincts had calmed that I finally put together what I'd seen in that brief glance: the girls in front of me and behind me had the same face.

Taking a risk, I looked back again. Sure enough, it was the purple girl from the hallway, standing in the middle of the floor and shaking hard. She reached up and pulled off what I finally saw was a wig, revealing the same striped, violet hair as the one in front of me. I looked back and forth between them; they were even wearing matching pins.

I didn't panic. Sunset Shimmer does not panic. I just wished, in that moment, that I'd known in advance that I would be spending my night wandering blindly into a changeling hive. Then maybe I could have come in sober, and with better weapons, and maybe not try to smash the one who was probably their queen right in front of a hundred or so bugs. Then maybe, I told myself, I would be able to enjoy it more when I inevitably fought my way out of this.

Surprisingly, it was the quiet yellow one who came to my rescue. She whispered rapidly to the others and maneuvered my double forward, keeping it in her embrace. "Give her your hand," she murmured into its ear. When it didn't obey, she grabbed its wrist and held it out towards me. "You think she's a changeling, don't you?" she said to me. "It's okay. Test her."

For a moment I just stared. "Fluttershy, are you nuts?" the rainbow-haired girl spat, straining against the pink hands that held her. "She just tried to murder her!"

"Dash, trust me," Fluttershy said. She gestured encouragingly. "It's okay. We won't hurt you."

Her charm was nauseating. I still didn't move for a second, and when I did, it was cautiously. Still sure that I was going to be swarmed at any moment, I stood up and reached down to my boot in one motion, pulling out the knife I kept tucked into it. Now more people screamed and started to run out of the room; were they only just now getting the idea? I'd forgotten how fucking stupid high schoolers are. "This is silver," I warned, holding the blade up. "Do you know what happens to a changeling when it touches silver?"

The fake me paled, but it still didn't try to run. I took a step forward and held the knife out, just grazing its skin. I hovered it over the tip of one finger, then another, watching its eyes for any reaction, then lost patience and slashed the blade across its palm. By that point I'd prepared myself for a few options: probably the green slime of a changeling, but maybe the blue mist of a pixie or other Fae, or even the clear sap of a bio-construct. But all that came out of her was pure, red, human blood.

For maybe the first time in my life, I was thrown. My knife fell from my fingers and I backed away, staring. My eyes flicked up to her face - shaken, scared, and now welling tears from pain, but undeniably mine - and then back to her blood, pure and true. "What... what the fuck?" I stammered.

The pink girl gasped loudly. "Oh! Swear jar! Swear jar!"

I considered the possibility that this was a dream. It wasn't out of the question. I knew I didn't have a twin sister, but barring something even stranger like time travel or alternate dimensions, that was all I had. "You're a fake," I snarled at her, staving off the inevitable. "You're a fucking fake!"

Amidst more cries of "Swear jar!" the imposter completely broke down. She wailed and pushed Fluttershy away, running for one of the far doors. A well-placed hand from the purple ringleader kept me from going after her. "It's okay, everyone!" she yelled at the rest of the room. "Everyone's okay. It was just a misunderstanding." While her other friends ran after the fake Shimmer, she gave quick looks to her double, then to a door outside, and then to me. "Let's talk," she said.

It was around then that I finally got a good look at her pin. It read "Birthday Girl".