Sunrise.
Lying in bed, Sunset Shimmer took a moment to look out the window at the dawn shining over the city. The inky hues of night defied gravity, rising like vapors into obscurity. In their place, the sky was filled with streaks of rose pink, reminiscent of silk flowing in an ethereal wind.
She squinted to make out a white-hot ball of light in the east, so different from another sun, one that never blinded but guided, never burned but warmed. So gentile, so soothing, so much like her.
What was that she had once said about her sun? 'My sun is not just an instrument for me to control, nor am I an avatar of the sun. Rather, we are parts of a whole, fully dependent on each other, no controlling involved. Simply put, we are the best of friends. And the sunrise is when both of us rise up to greet each other, ready to journey together through the challenges of the day. The sunset, while painful, is a necessary goodbye. Even when it slips past the horizon, I remain happy, trusting in that I will see it once again.'
Sunset dug her fingernails into her palms, forming little crescent moons. Can’t think about things like that, she firmly told herself. That life is gone now, there’s no use dwelling over it. Even if I…
In a delicate balancing act, Sunset quietly tiptoed over the lumps of grey that were her friends, all sleeping soundly. It was easy to forget that not everyone wished to rise with the sun. Even with all her experience, Sunset found her eyes straining in the darkness as she fumbled for the railing and made her way downstairs.
A light was on in the kitchen. Sunset rolled her eyes. What was that princess doing, triple checking for spelling errors?
To Sunset’s surprise, Fluttershy’s notebook was neatly closed on the counter, with Twilight nowhere in sight. A little more sleuthing found her to be on the couch, legs crisscrossed, and staring out the window at the sunrise in unwavering concentration.
For a second, Sunset’s heart stopped beating.
Sunset turned the light switch to its lowest brightness, casting a soft glow on the room. “Hey,” she said.
Twilight started and whipped her head around. Then her shoulders visibly relaxed when she saw Sunset’s fiery hair. “Oh, hi Sunset.”
“Sorry I interrupted you,” she said as she sat down next to Twilight. “You were meditating, weren’t you?”
Twilight nodded. “Old habit. When I was her student, Princess Celestia asked me to do it with her every morning before our lessons.”
“Oh yeah, I remember that. So that’s why I got ten extra minutes of sleep every morning.”
The two shared a fit of giggles. “Do you think she was able to tell?” Twilight asked.
Sunset shrugged. “It’s the princess; she definitely knew. I guess she was kind and didn't say anything because of my late-night study sessions.”
“Oh, I remember those nights,” Twilight laughed. “I was such a perfectionist that even when I read five chapters ahead I still managed to find something to worry about.”
“One time I was writing a research report – yeah, you remember those, such a pain – and I actually passed out in the library because I hadn’t eaten in two days.”
“That probably would have happened to me too if Spike wasn’t there to help me out,” Twilight said.
"After that the princess always made sure to check up on me every so often to make sure I wasn’t working myself to the bone, even though I knew she was doing the same thing every night.”
Twilight smiled, then paused. “You know, it’s strange. I always forget that you were Princess’ Celestia’s student too. Er, no offense.”
The only sign of pain Sunset displayed was a quick fluttering of eyelashes. “Hehe, none taken. Anyway, how’s the counterspell going?”
“The counterspell? Oh, it’s great, really great.” The bags under her eyes said otherwise.
“You know, if you wanted a second pair of eyes to look over it, I’d be happy to,” Sunset offered.
“No!” she shouted, crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect an invisible notebook from Sunset's gaze.
Sunset raised an eyebrow.
“I-I mean, thank you, but that’s not necessary.” Twilight offered a weak smile.
“Fine. If that’s what you want, then alright.” Then, under her breath: “I did study some theory work on counterspells.”
“Sunset, I didn’t mean it like that,” Twilight said. “I’m just not comfortable sharing my work with other ponies.”
“I said fine.” Sunset crossed her legs. “It’s been a while since I’ve studied that field of magic, so I probably wouldn’t be much help anyway.”
“Sunset, I’m sure you’re just as capable of writing the spell—“
“If I’m just as capable, then why aren’t I where you are?!”
Not even the birds outside made a sound.
“Sunset…” Twilight’s eyebrows disappeared under her bangs.
The other mare covered her mouth with her hands. “I… I’m so sorry. I never should have said that. Forget I said anything.”
But Twilight’s brain was already spinning miles ahead. “Sunset… that is, if you don’t mind my asking… why did you leave Celestia?”
After a silence of dead weights crushing the air around them, she asked in a low, barely audible voice, “What did the princess tell you?”
Twilight chewed on her lip. The words came out fast, as if their sting would be less sharp the less time they spent vibrating in the room. “She said that when you didn’t get what you wanted as quickly as you liked, you became cruel and dishonest to the point where you abandoned your studies and took your own path.”
“Accurate as always, princess.” Sunset forced a smile, stiff as plaster. “I’m curious, Twilight, what were you hoping to do after being Celestia’s student?”
“I never really thought about it too hard, to be honest,” Twilight admitted. “I figured that I’d become a mage in her court like Starswirl the Bearded.”
“Good for you,” said Sunset, gazing out the window at the sun. “You knew your place. But me? I wanted to be what no sane mare would even dream of: an alicorn princess.”
“Th-that sounds…” Twilight stammered.
“Crazy? Blasphemous? Evil? It was, I’m sure. Back then, I thought I was just being ambitious. I guess now I can see how wrong that was.”
She sighed and rested her head in her hands. “Still, it made sense at the time. After all, why bother being friendly or nice to others when I could devote everything to becoming like the glorious Princess Celestia?”
“You know the feeling, don’t you, Twilight?” Sunset asked. “Of adoring her to the point of obsession?” Twilight nodded her head. She’d be lying if she said ‘faithful student’ was just a nickname.
“I didn’t come from a noble family in Canterlot,” Sunset said, “so being chosen by Celestia was a big surprise. So big that my family could hardly believe it. I know I couldn’t. I was so used to hearing that I would never be able to study magic that hearing from the princess of Equestria that I could meant the world to me.
“I mean, she was my teacher, of course she’d say things like that, but she also did… more, you know? Birthday parties, bedtime stories, the whole nine yards. Teachers don’t do that. I know she did the same for you, but it still felt special. It was so easy to forget that she was the Princess of Equestria when she focused so much on me.”
Twilight nodded, empathetic. Celestia had this magical ability to make anypony feel like the most precious and loved creature in the world.
“Then one day she was teaching me about the Canterlot nobility and how she wasn’t actually related to any of them because she didn’t have any children. And… I felt bad for her. She looked so sad that in that moment, I wished I could be her daughter. After all she gave me, I wanted to give her a family to love. I knew I was already training to rescue her sister, but to be her daughter, I’d have to be an alicorn like her.
“So that’s what I told myself. It spiraled downward from there, until I…”
Sunset sagged into the couch like a deflated balloon. “No, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You feel bad for me, don’t you? Please don’t. I blew my chance where you didn’t. I don’t want to justify any of the awful things I did. Missing the princess is bad enough.”
“Sunset, you were – are – a very talented unicorn,” Twilight said, “and as you are now, you’d be a great alicorn princess. But… and maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about, but… maybe, even if you never left and Celestia let you ascend, you wouldn’t be very happy.
“Trust me, I know how you feel. Princess Celestia is beautiful, wise, kind, more than anypony could ask for, and for a really long time I couldn’t care about much more than making her proud. But living your whole life in an obsession with her… it isn’t very healthy.”
“Yes, you’re right, Twilight.” Sunset smiled. “I remember for the first few days at CHS I kept following Principal Celestia around like a lost puppy. I kept dropping hints to Equestria, to all the things I learned in our lessons, but they flew over her head. I guess I kept expecting a part of her to be in there, to guide me. And when she wasn’t, I remember feeling so angry, like she had given up on me, that I… well, you know what I did. I became a monster. My own monster. Not Celestia’s. I still don’t know how to feel about that.”
Sunset hugged her knees to her chest and stared into the sun. “How is she?” she asked, barely audible. “The princess, I mean.”
Twilight could have prattled off a list of groundbreaking laws and political breakthroughs in Sunset's absence, but she knew better. “Celestia is doing well,” she said. “Serene and composed as always, but in the past few years she’s been more open. I noticed as a filly that sometimes she’d stop herself mid-sentence from telling me things too personal about herself, but that doesn’t happen anymore. She doesn’t bottle up things like she used to. I’d say that’s a good thing for her.”
A genuine smile tugged at Sunset’s lips. “Thank you for bringing her sister back from the moon. She carried a lot of baggage about that, even a thousand years after.” She sighed, her eyes misting over. “Faust, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time to see them finally together again.”
Twilight opened her mouth, then hesitated. Should she tell…? She hadn’t been planning to, but…
She looked at Sunset, eyes watering from staring into the wrong sun, and shook her head. She was being silly. Sunset more than deserved to know. “The portal opens whenever you like now,” she said. “You could go back to Equestria with me and see her. I’m sure she’d forgive you.”
“Now you’ve tempted me, Twilight,” Sunset chastised sadly, “and I don’t know if I can resist. To see her again…” Her eyes fluttered closed as she slowly breathed, in and out, in and out. “She’s happy, right?”
Twilight nodded. “Happier than I’ve ever seen her.”
“Then it’s fine. I won’t go back and stir up old memories." Sunset felt the tiny crescent moon imprints on her hand. "All I did in the end was bring her pain.”
“Princess Luna brought her pain as Nightmare Moon,” Twilight said quietly, “and she was welcomed back.”
“Well, it’s like you said. Being obsessed with her isn’t healthy. Besides… oh, I don’t know. It’s strange, to think about her. I haven’t let myself think about Equestria in so long, I haven’t really sorted out how I feel.”
Twilight shifted so she was staring directly at Sunset. “Maybe talking about it would help.”
“I know it doesn’t make much sense… it sounds horrible, even… but when I remember the way I bullied everyone at CHS… there’s a part of me that feels proud. Not that I think what I did was a good thing or that I’d want to do it again, but at the same time it was empowering. I was making decisions based on what I thought, not what Celestia thought. I was forming my character, and even if it wasn’t a good one, at least it was mine.
“But it’s still a weak character, and I still have to learn a lot about how to not just make my own decisions, but good ones too. And going back to Equestria and seeing her, I don’t think I have the willpower to keep from slipping back into the Sunset Shimmer that always walked in her shadow. Does that make any sense?”
“I think it does,” Twilight said, smiling.
“One day,” Sunset said. “One day I’ll go back. The sunset is just a part of the day, right? Well then I don’t need to worry about her going away. I’ll just wait for my time.”
“Do you know what Princess Celestia told me about the sun?” Twilight asked. “She said that ‘my sun is not just an instrument for me to control, nor am I an avatar of the sun. Rather, we are parts of a whole, fully dependent on each other, no controlling involved. Simply put, we are the best of friends. And the sunrise is when both of us rise up to greet each other, ready to journey together through the challenges of the day.”
“And,” she continued, “’the sunset is the most beautiful time of day, the time when lessons can be learned and the past day can be fully appreciated. Even though it lasts only a moment compared to the day, it is a beautiful dancing flame, one that promises renewal and rebirth.’ It’s her favorite time of day.”
For some reason, Sunset found herself blinking furiously. “That’s really nice,” she managed to choke out.
“Yeah,” Twilight agreed. “She is.”
For a while, the two mages sat in a comfortable silence as they reflected upon the dawn. She remembers, she cares, she loves, loves, loves me, Sunset realized. Maybe I should remember her more too.
Twilight glanced up at the ceiling when she heard a thud from upstairs. “Those are the girls,” she said, standing up. “I’ll tell them to get ready. We have a long day ahead of us.”
Sunset nodded and closed her eyes, and for a moment the sunlight on her eyelids was not of that earth. Never blinding but guiding, never scalding but warming. But even then, if you stay too close, don’t you end up burning yourself?
The Battle of the Bands, the Dazzlings, all of it was so uncertain. She wasn’t like Princess Celestia or Princess Twilight, always ready for any disaster, always knowing what to do. How could she, when she hardly knew herself? All she had was a feeling, a vague sense of going the right direction down a tunnel. But who knew? Maybe one day she'd stumble upon a light at the end.
“I may not have all the answers,” Sunset whispered, “but I’ll find them. For you, my princess.”
