Conflicts of a Fairytale's Friendship

Chapters

Prologue: Bleached Displacement
Chapter 1: Iridescent Encounter
Chapter 2: Dull Outset
Chapter 3: Vibrant De'ja Vu

Prologue: Bleached Displacement

Prologue

Bleached Displacement

Her first memory was of a rhythmic beeping. It was a distant, technological sound just beyond the darkness of her unconsciousness. She was roused by how the singular tone eerily mirrored a distinct thump in her chest. It beckoned her into awareness and encouraged her to open her eyes, but prying open her lids was a foreign sensation. They were heavy and weary from being closed for far too long. The hues they protected were unprepared to receive the bright haze of the fluorescent light that lingered over her head. They squinted, painfully, against the manufactured glow. An unfamiliar appendage came to the aid of her eyes, placing itself between them and the offending light source, casting a comforting shadow upon them. Slowly, she blinked at the appendage that, despite how strange it felt, must have belonged to her. She brought it closer to her face to better access it, flexing the five digits that extended from its awkward, biologically square base.

This...feels wrong, her thoughts echoed, disoriented and far away. Slowly, uncertain of every muscle and nerve throughout her unrecognizable body, she sat up. She brought up a second appendage of the same likeness as the other and held them side-by-side, turning them over as she tested the mobility in the ten extensions, waiting for the flexing motion to feel natural. It didn't. They didn't. Not at all. This doesn't feel right, her thoughts insisted as she gained startling awareness about the rest of her body. She threw the thin, stark white blanket that had bunched up on her lap the rest of the way off her lower body. Attached to her legs—Which felt and appeared to be far, way too long—she curled stubby versions of the digits connected to her arms. They felt even more wrong. The appendages connected to her wrists trembling, she began touching, rubbing, and groping at every inch of her body, seeking even the slightest something she recognized about herself, but all her mind repeated with increasing intensity was wrong, wrong, wrong, more wrong. It was all foreign and she even felt like parts of herself were missing, though she couldn't exactly explain what these missing parts were, only where they were meant to be. The two most prominent were an extension to her tail bone and...something on her forehead, but she couldn't even imagine what. She rubbed her forehead with a rough but slow panic, feeling naked and entirely incomplete without whatever had been there once.

Still fidgeting with the center of her forehead as though her lost something would return at any moment to comfort her, her eyes danced like a frightened rabbit around the room, jumping from one object to the next. Most things, she did recognize what they were, though the room was sparsely furnished. There was the strange bed that she was sitting on, a small table on one side of the bed, a single chair on the other side the room, and the source of the beeping. She wasn't at all sure what the machine was. It was overly complex and had many parts that called her attention, most of which she wasn't sure were in operation, and it was connected to her by a series of thin, flexible...tubes. What held her attention the most was the little black screen. Numbers that meant nothing to her were depicted in the corners and, she assumed, it was the source of the beeping because, with every bleeping that matched the terrible, fear induced pace of her heart, she watched a line peek and then fall in the same rhythm. She tore her eyes from the machine, looking back at the body connected to her frenzied mind.

Find something familiar, she begged herself, the appendages that had been fidgeting with her forehead slipping into her hair and gripping the strands tightly. Even the smooth texture of the locks felt wrong. Tears pricked her eyes as her free appendage starting exploring her form once again for something, anything, while she dug and wracked her mind for something more, something about her and not about things that she could claim to know until she felt physical pain in her cranium. Anything, anything. Anything I recognize. Anything I know. Please. Anything.

Her desperation and searching came to a sudden halt when she traveled her free hand from her calf all the way up to her hip. On the outer part of her hip, the skin felt...different. Smoother, tighter, softer somehow, maybe. She could almost trace out a shape. Curious as well as disturbed, she pulled up the awkward, disproportionate gown that barely hung onto her strange form. There, she saw a...picture, for lack of a better term, printed on her skin. Before even indulging what the design was, she pulled up the other side of her gown. It was there too. It was a depiction of feather over what appeared to be aged parchment, with something she couldn't guess wavering out from the plume. It was familiar. That very notion struck her with a comfort that pulled stiffness from her shoulders and from the darkness of her mind, it pulled a single light consisting of two words;

Fairytale Lyric.

It was a name. Her name. She had a name, but there was nothing else forth coming from her aching head; No hint as to who Fairytale Lyric was or what the designs on her hips could possibly mean. It was a victory hardly worth celebrating, but the name and those picture printed on her skin felt right when nothing else did. Whatever body she had inhabited before, whatever her correct body was, it had owned these two things. This was enough for her to coax her heart to a slower pace, one that did not cause her rib cage to protest with a dull ache. It was enough to last her for a few moments, enough to find a peace that, deep down, she knew something.

But two things simply weren't enough.

In the future, they brought more questions than answers, especially the oddly placed designs. Who was she? What did those marks mean? Did they mean anything? Why did everything feel so wrong? Why were her memories so dark?

Chapter 1: Iridescent Encounter

Chapter 1

Iridescent Encounter[

The fallen Siren leader would not accept that the night closing in around her was beautiful, dazzling even. It didn't matter to her that, despite the pollution of artificial light, the stars overhead shown brightly in their masses, unperturbed, or that the illumination from the street lamps made the first signs of dew glitter like little crystals in contrast to the grass that bordered the sidewalk. All she cared about was how the air around her, even after how far she had run to escape her traumatic fall, was still charged with Equestrian magic so potent that, even without her own powers, she could feel it burning her lungs. Or...was that because she was out of breath?

Realizing that, between the struggled sobs of pure despair that she could not allow Aria and Sonata to hear, let alone see and the pounding exertion she'd put on her now very human body, she could no longer coax air into her lungs. Adagio stumbled to a halt, gasping oxygen into her burning chest as she buckled over her middle, resting her tightly clenched fists on her thighs. When, last, had she been so out of breath? In upwards of a thousand years, had her throat ever been sore? Had it ever burned like this or did that have something to do with the streaks of tears straining her blotchy, flushed complexion? Could she even remember crying once in all of her long life?

No. She couldn't. Even when she and the other two were banished to this forsaken world, she'd never shed a single tear. They still had their magic then. They—She still had some sense of control over the situation at hand then and, as their leader—Accepted through petty squabbles, albeit self-appointed--it was her job to recognize their potential and plot a coarse forward. This time, however, they had nothing. Everything had been stripped from them in a single moment. Their pride, their image, their magic, their immortality, all gone in an instant. Adagio Dazzle, with the first tears she had ever cried trickling endlessly from her rose eyes, was feeling helpless, weak, and entirely vulnerable for the first time in her life. It was a weakness that she didn't dare show the other two hence why, as soon as she felt hints of wetness pricking her eyes, she had charge ahead blindly to put distance between them and herself. But did it matter if they saw her broken state? Was she even their leader anymore? Where was there to lead them to in any case? Was there even a reason for them to remain together when their magic had been extinguished?

The sun streaked Dazzling, without wind bombarding her ears with the hiss of retreat, could hear her long time companions calling out for her in the distance. She didn't dare glance over her shoulder to see just how close or how far they were. Unprepared to face them still in her disheveled state but her calves aching too much to run any further in her heavy, heeled boots, she walked on, bringing her fist to furiously dry the excessive flow of salt water from her eyes.

No longer pounding her arms and legs, no longer distracted by the jeer of wind resistance, Adagio realized there were cutting aches in her left hand. With a blank expression that entirely snuffed out the confident, superiority she prided herself for, she lowered that fist from where it had been unkindly scrubbing at her eye. Slowly, she unraveled her pale, yellow fingers, revealing the shattered remains of her pendant and how the jagged edges had pierced and indented her flesh.

Adagio's walk, despite the enclosing voices of the other two, former Sirens, slowed to a halt. She stared at the remnants of the gem, the crimson hue catching the street lights with a splendor that was nothing like it had been maybe 15 minutes ago. Her fist closed tightly around the shards, her knuckles turning white. She didn't care that the jagged pieces further cut her skin as her misery transformed into a delayed rage that ignited her heart. Fueled by a moment of pure anger, she raised her fist above her head in one quick motion, intent on smashing the jewel fragments against the sidewalk as hard as she could muster, praying the impact turned the symbol of all she'd lost to dust.

Just as her hand descended, rapidly, downward, with all her might, the ruined pendant gave a heavy, unnatural pulse and began to radiate heat in her hand. The sensation in her aching palm was startling enough to abruptly stop the ginger. The left over inertia made her stumble forward a few steps. If she had been even a fraction less coordinated, her knees would have met the concrete. When she had recovered her balance, she opened her hand. The rugged edges of the ruby were glowing faintly. It was a dying glow, but a light nonetheless that Adagio did not expect it to ever have again.

“What...?”

Her brow knitted with inquiry. Slowly, her off-red gaze pulled away from the faintly glowing pieces to examine the, at first glance, virtually deserted area for whatever could possibly cause what small sliver of magic the fragments retained to react. When nothing but Aria's and Sonata's quickly approaching forms presented themselves, her eyes flickered to the other side of the street. They skimmed over a park entrance directly across from her only to snap back because the Dazzling thought, thought being the key term, she saw something; The ghostly facade of a Siren. Not of the human variety, but of the Equestrian kind she and her companions were not an hour ago. The image gave Adagio a chill that she would never outright admit to, but when her gaze returned to that spot in the same moment, the haunt was no longer there. In its place was some girl, obscured by the shadow cast by the street lamp directly over her head, violently shredding what appeared to be several sheets of paper into the smallest pieces she could manage with such frenzied hands. The fragments were no longer struggling for life in her palm.

At least we're not the only ones having a terrible night, the once Equestrian thought, bitterly, attempting to dismiss what she had thought she'd seen in the process.

Still, she stared at the park entrance and, subsequently, the girl for a few moments more. She...must have imagined it. The stress, the heart break, the over-exerting run, all these factors must have attributed to the illusion. Adagio tore her eyes from the park, back to the dead shards once more. She had to convince herself that the phantom of a Siren silhouette was some product of her own mind, but the heated pulse she had felt from the broken pieces and their endeavor to glow weighed down on her. There was nothing else in sight that could have been the cause but, just as well, what would have created such a troubling image? Perhaps this was merely the gems last display of magic before being snuffed entirely. Oddly, the orange haired girl found this thought more gut twisting than the Siren specter. The little display, no matter how futile, clicked something back in place; A small glimmer of hope perhaps? Potential? Adagio wasn't sure, but she felt her heart settle back into a steady rhythm.

“Adagio!” Sonata's voice pulled her attention.

Adagio looked over her shoulder at the other two girls. They were jointly experiencing the same exhaustion and need for breath that had kept her from running into the night forever. Sonata, dramatically, had sunk down to her knees to capture air and allow her legs to rest. Aria, ever the 'tough one,' forced herself to remain standing with a straight back as she to struggled to breathe evenly.

“I was starting to think we'd never catch up with you!” Sonata announced after a few moments of refueling her lungs. The bright outlook the blue Dazzling generally retained clearly had not been entirely dissipated by their utter failure, but the light in her eyes had dimmed with the uncertainty of their future and held the wetness of residual tears just waiting to spill over. “What are we gonna to do now?”

“Why are you asking her?” Aria snapped, her uneven temper showing through in the light of adversity.

“Adagio is usually the one with the plans,” Sonata replied, blinking as though the fact was entirely obvious. She wiped away a tear that had been pushed over the brim of her lower lashes.

Aria groaned, rolling her eyes. She jabbed an accusing hand in Adagio's direction. “This is her fault, Sonata! Her grand scheme is why we don't have our voices anymore!”

Sonata looked a tinge confused. “I thought it was the Rainbooms fault.”

This matter-of-fact statement struck a resentful cord in Adagio. She looked back at the dimly lit park, now entirely vacant, then at the fragments in her hand. Her other hand touched the delicate hollow of her throat where the pendant should have been sitting. It had been there for so long that, despite now staring at it's ruins in her palm and being brutally aware of its absence, she still felt the ghost of its weight on her neck. Her fingers closed around the pieces, clasping them carefully, like a fragile lifeline.

“It was their fault; Those stupid Rainbooms,” the Dazzling leader spoke out for the first time since retreating from the stage they had been booed from like a bad circus act. She bit the name with gritted teeth. Her tone was final, sound. It was their fault. All of it. She pushed the remains of her pendant into her dress pocket. “Come on. Let's go.”

Adagio hadn't taken two steps before Aria quipped, sharply, “What makes you think we're just going to follow you this time?”

A smirk that felt so natural on Adagio's lips took form. Confident and assured, she didn't stop or slow down to answer the question. “If you didn't intend to follow me, you wouldn't have run this far.”

The other two watched Adagio's retreating back, then exchanged glances, though there was no silent debate between them. Sonata was the first to fall in line behind their self-imposed leader, pushing herself off the side walk and trotting to catch up. Aria, albeit reluctant in light of her pride, caught up soon after.

“So, what's the plan this time?” Aria asked, sarcastically. “What are we going to do now?”

“Survive, just like we've always done,” Adagio replied, plainly. She let the purple haired girl get away with lashing out at her for their fall with her foul attitude. After the day they had all endured, surely she deserved a chance to be angry and to wallow in such. Besides, Adagio would own up to her 'grand scheme' being the one that landed them in their joint circumstance. She would own up to her fault in judgment where their enemy was concern. She'd admit it; She underestimated them and that, in part, had led to their tremendous loss.

Presently, Adagio didn't have a plan for the trio aside from returning to their home nestled on the far end of the city. What they all needed more than anything was a reprieved from the outside world that was, in a single night, suddenly much more complicated than they had ever known it to be, but the leader was still scheming and covering their options. For now, as she said, survival was their first priority, but revenge and the return of their magic lingered in the back of her mind. Whether the glow in her broken ruby was a trick of the light or otherwise, it had all been enough to harden her heart and move forward.

“Can the first step in our survival plan be tacos?” Sonata piped. “Having a giant winged unicorn blast a rainbow in my face has made me huuuungry!”

“Ugh...” Aria, in irritation, pinched the bridge of her nose. “Seriously, Sonata. You are the absolute worst.”

“No, you're the worst!” Sonata bantered in return, genuinely offended.

Under different circumstances, Adagio would have cut their childish argument to an abrupt end the moment it started but, despite her straight back, swaying hips, and new resolve, she was far too tired and, in truth, the normalcy of the lame repartee was a thin comfort.

Most sentient creatures fell into patterns; Rhythmic habits that made their vacant lives seem more replete. Following their vocal crippling defeat at the Canterlot High battle of the bands a heavy handful of months ago, the Dazzlings found themselves falling into routines that aided in filling what seemed to be an endless amount of time. After mourning their losses in a culmination of anger and mostly private displays of tears, they were forced to figure out what to do with themselves outside the necessary, normalities of the world. It varied between them. Sonata had discovered the glory of television series that she kept up with throughout the week with an avid dedication. Aria had thrown herself head first into the web of online gaming as her outlet for time and lasting bitterness toward their defeat. Adagio had taken over most of the mundane duties that kept up their residence, unable to remain still for more than a short period of time. When she wasn't adjusting their spending budget or keeping up the state of the floors, she would humor Sonata in watching one of her cartoon series or, on the sparse occasions she and Aria weren't butting heads like rabid moose, she'd play a round or two of some melee game the purple haired Dazzling was stuck on. When all else failed, long, brooding walks usually led her to Canterlot City Community Park.

There were a variety of factors that led Adagio to insist that leaving Canterlot at present wouldn't be as profitable for herself and the other two as one might immediately think. The bulk of her argument was the loss of their magic. Not one of the three realized just how for granted they had taken their abilities until they were gone. Not only did it allow them a source of sustenance and empowerment, their aptitude for mind control had allowed them to slipped by just underneath the constructs of this world. In their time in this world parallel to Equestria, by less-than-orthodox means afforded to them by their magic, the Dazzlings had collected fairly substantial nest-egg of funds to rely on and even a two story, fairly decent house that they had weaseled their way into just before their first day at Canterlot High. It was unrealistic to think that the trio could uproot themselves as they had many times before without a second thought when they no longer had an assured form of income. Eventually, their funds would thin out and, if they were to leave, it wasn't likely that they would manage to come by some unfortunate sap who would give them a house, free of charge with without magical coaching. Paying rent on an apartment or buying a home outright would just deplete their resources faster. As none of them were quite prepared to venture out into the world in search of a fabled 'job' that seemed so beneath them, living frugally on a budget in their proverbial city of broken dreams was all they could do to remain financially comfortable. Without magic to bend them, they were suddenly learning the rules and just how much give those rules had tied to them.

The rationale behind Adagio's insistence and their mutual choice to remain aside, there was potential in staying, the very same potential that made the former Sirens' leader trek to the city park so many times a week, aimlessly.

It was only once a week, give a rare occasion or two, that Sonata and Aria joined Adagio on her strolls. It was an unspoken rule between them that conflicting encounters between themselves and the students of Canterlot High be avoided by all means, so Sundays had been designated for periodically restocking household necessities. Undergoing their often lengthy shopping adventure on the first official day of the week made it easy to avoid anyone who might recognize them from the battle of the bands fiasco. Aside from those who worked on those days, the stores were generally underpopulated, in large part, Aria had once noted, to occult, religious practices that dictated mass gathering and laziness on Sundays. And on those leisure Sundays, without question or diversion, they trudged past Canterlot City Community Park.

Despite the early daylight, the street was just as virtually empty as it had been that night, the night they had lost, the night that...Adagio's pendant glowed faintly one final time. The yellowed skinned girl remember in clarity how the fragments had pulsed with the smallest hint of power. In idle hopes that the shattered pieces would find reason to live once again, Adagio carried the corpse fragments on her person, always. She clung to them like a child would a beloved blanket during a storm, like a safety net, a cliff's edge, a dire promise. She couldn't let go of the ruined remains that had offered her potential no matter how time wore on with no indication that there was even a hint of magic left in them after that horrid night; That keeping the dead pieces would lead to a rise from their human circumstances.

Adagio traced the jagged contours of the largest of her ruby's remains inside her hoodie pocket as the three of them approached the park entrance. Over the past months, in the dead of night, she had tried and failed to make the shards show a glimmer of life, even delving into the ideologies and mythology of this worlds 'magic' to no consequence. Her trips, daily, to the park she had found herself standing across from that night, when they displayed their dying glow, were a product of her desideratum that their Siren existence be returned. Everyday, even that day, she hoped and half-expected the fragments to gain the little bit of life they had that night, but they never did, to her vexation. Her yellow fingers grasp around the constituent of her pendant as though this would encourage the gem to pulse the way her memory served. Nothing, ever still. It was insanity, truly, the way she repeated this process. Agitating insanity.

Every time the gem pieces proved to fail her, the helplessness that followed always made Adagio's insides twist with an anxious nausea that she hated above all else. It was a nagging futility, an absolute lack of control that made her spiral. There was little else Adagio had come to resent more than the imposing impotence that she subjected herself to daily, especially when she passed this accursed park.

Her hand clenched around the gem fragment as they edged closer to the park entrance and her jaw tightened, though her expression remained passive as she pretended to listen to Sonata ramble on about some new happening in the season finale of one of the many shows she kept up with. Adagio didn't know exactly why nor did she feel the need to explain it but, at times like this, when she felt weakness barring down on her, her mentality would retaliate against it with the insistent need to make someone else feel the same, make someone else feel, just for a moment, that terrible nausea of helplessness, and, in turn, she would feel in control. The feeling was no where near what she would have felt if she had the ability to serenade anyone she wished into submission and didn't truly make her feel better more than a few seconds after the exchange, but she still found her raspberry eyes beckoning for an easy target to take out her frustrations on as they surpassed the park's archway with no pulse from the ruined pendant. (Her companions were hardly an option, though she could admit to similar feelings causing her to lash at them.)

Perhaps the Fates were taking pity on her increasingly foul mood or maybe it was truly a welcome coincidence—Adagio didn't really care to ponder which it was.--that her eyes found what appeared to be a more than perfect target for her. Coming at them from the opposite direction was some shorter girl that struck the former Siren leader with a dismissed nostalgia. The girl just had an impression about her at first glance that begged any predator to view her as an easy kill. Her walk suggested weakness, her shoulders had an edge of uncertainty and violent timidity. Then there were the pastel, braided pigtails. There was just something about cutesy pigtails that made them scream to be pulled.(Assuming you didn't have the perpetual glower Aria could be characterized by.) The fact that they were braided only turned up the volume of the screaming. Best of all, however, was that the voluminous haired girl's sighted prey wasn't even looking where she was going. Her eyes were turned down into the spiral notebook she was inelegantly scribbling in as she walked. It was too perfect. Adagio in the most decent of tempers couldn't have past the chance to play.

The pigtail girl must have had at least a vague sense of her surroundings despite never once looking up from her scrawling, because she edged just enough to the side of the sidewalk upon approaching the Dazzlings trio that she would have passed them by without so much as brushing shoulders with any of them, but there was a bullseye on her back that she couldn't have been aware of. As she passed, Adagio, with expert timing, stuck her foot in the other girl's path. As she tried to take what should have been an easy step, her ankle connected with the purposely placed obstacle. There wasn't even time for the girl to flail in a ineffective attempt to catch the equilibrium that had abandoned her in that moment.

The fall in itself was so much more animated and comical than Adagio could have ever hoped for. With a squealing yelp, the pig tailed girl toppled over, landing unceremoniously flat on her face as her notebook went skidding across the concrete. Her legs all but went over her head. The dollop of sweet cream on the entire scene, however, was that the knitted dress she was wearing—If the over sized sweater could be called such.--had ridden up a problematic amount, revealing the beginnings of personal garments to the almost empty street.

Comically as the scene was and as much as Aria and Sonata would have guffawed along with Adagio, none of the Sirens were laughing. Adagio herself hadn't made it passed a triumphant smile to the laughter she had felt in her chest before the entirely cartoonish display. All three of them were staring at the piteous fall victim who had just sat up on her elbows and was gently rubbing her tender nose with tears pricking her eyes. Just moments after she fell, they all saw them; Breezies, rare little Equestrian creatures, had flown out of the notebook laying a few feet away. There were at least three of them, fretting over the pig tailed girl, chattering in that incomprehensible language of theirs, but each of them faded quickly until they were gone, as though they had never been there, but the short exchange of glances between the former Equestrians proved that none of the three were hallucinating.

The hand inside Adagio's hoodie pocket was suddenly very warm and the gem shards were pulsing, faintly, against her palm.

The pigtail girl had started to push herself into a sitting position. Without much thought and zero regard for the girl's comfort, the Dazzlings' leader put her converse right between the girl's shoulder blades, pinning her down with half her weight.

“H-Hey!” The girl found the beginnings of panic. “Get off of me!”

All three of the once Sirens ignored her plea as though it had never been spoken. Their eyes were jointly trained on the hand that Adagio had just pulled out of her pocket, holding the shattered remains of her pendant, each piece struggling to glow.

“You...still have that?” Aria noted, somewhat distractedly, her eyes darting from the fragments to the girl. “How long have you--”

Sonata butted in then, catching on surprisingly quick. “Does she have--”

“Equestrian magic...” Adagio breathed out, almost inaudibly.

“Do you guys...see it?” Sonata's voice had dropped to a whisper.

Aria and Adagio both turned eyes to Sonata and followed her gaze to the very specific spot the blue Siren was staring at on the trapped, unlucky girl. Peeking out from the misplaced hem of her dress at her thigh was half of a picture. The design quality and placement of the marking was more than the proof Adagio needed to make an educated assumption; It looked too much like an Equestrian pony's Cutie Mark. She knelt beside the girl, her foot still digging into the upper end of her spine.

“You. What is your name?” When an answer didn't immediately come, Adagio didn't think twice about adding a little extra weight on the foot that kept the girl down. “I'm waiting.”

The girl gave a short, little gasp at the ache rising between her shoulders. “F-F-Fairytale. Fairytale Lyric,” she replied with an edged that hinted she might cry for more reason than a bruised face.

“Fairytale Lyric,” Adagio repeated the name as though she was tasting its syllables and storing their flavors to memory. “You're of high school age correct? What school do you go to?”

“C-Canterlot,” the girl fumbled out. Adagio swore she could feel her heart pounding through her shoe. “Canterlot High! Please get off of me!”

There was not denying that the smirk that broke across the Siren's lips then made it straight into her voice. “Really?” Adagio stood, removing her foot from between her victims shoulders and stood back up. “We'll be in touch.”

The pig tailed girl wasted no time scrambling to her feet. Without even taking a single glance at her short-term tormentors, she scurried off like a frightened little mouse, disappearing into to park, perhaps to seek cover in some small niche in the tree roots.

Adagio looked down at the shards in her hands as the light in them died. She closed her fingers around them, gently and then turned her attention back to the other two with a hand on a jutted hip. She saw in them what she felt deep in the pit of her throat; An itch. It was an itch that, in their own way and on different degrees, each of them had harbored since the battle of the bands, one that they all saw the potential of finally being scratched.

“Well, girls, I think it's about time we went back to school,” Adagio commented, confident humor deepening her voice. “I think Canterlot High is about to get very entertaining.”

“Yay! They have Taco Tuesday!” Sonata decreed.

Aria narrowed her eyes at Adagio, reluctance still living inside her after their last defeat when it came to following their disputable leader. When she, thoughtfully, pulled her eyes away, they landed directly on the now forgotten notebook. She retrieved it from where it laid battered on the ground. Her purple hues scanned the up facing page with a stoic expression. When she had finished, without looking, she tossed the notebook to Adagio.

“I might be in agreement,” she commented, stuffing her hands into her jean pockets.

Adagio caught the notebook with one hand then read the open page herself while Sonata peered curiously over her shoulder. The handwriting was terrible, but she could make out the vague, quick, but recognizable description of the Breezies they had seen, if only for a count of ten seconds.

Chapter 2: Dull Outset

Chapter 2

Dull Outset

A medical anomaly. That's what she had heard the medical staff call her in those three consecutive weeks she was hospital bound. They were kind and patient enough when they knew she could hear them. It was when they didn't know she was listening that she was given a clear indication of just how strange her case was. Despite her severe amnesia, the physicians couldn't explain her outright puzzling behaviors and strange mannerisms. She became visibly confused when doors wouldn't open for her or utensils didn't gravitate toward her just because she stared at them for an extended period of time. Her instinct was to walk on all fours, despite how awkward it felt, and her first attempts at trying to walk “normally” were met with the clumsiness of a newborn that had never even seen legs before. She didn't, in the first week, thinkto use her hands over her mouth for picking up items or utilizing tools. An anomaly, the doctors said that she almost seemed like she belonged in another world. The chuckles that followed such insinuations led Fairytale Lyric to believe they were no more than passing humor, but she wasn't always so sure how wrong they were.

The abnormalities of her existence only proved to increase when she tried to start public school after a year of homeschooling, a year of assimilating. Her first day at Canterlot high had gone disastrously for reasons she could never find the right words to explain. The school doors had been open only a short period of time when she felt the first...something. It felt like a force had infiltrated her spine, traveling up her neck, into her skull, and concentrating with a ticklish yet uncomfortable heat in the center of her forehead. Her head ached terribly after that, distracting her from the meeting she was supposed to be paying attention to between her temporary guardian, Nurse Tourniquet, and the vice principal of the school. She felt the sensation of “infiltration” a second time when the meeting ended. She had just stepped into the hall when it hit her a third. This time, the energy twisted with the sensation that was already boiling inside her. Between the heated haze throughout her body and the pain throbbing in her cranium, her consciousness gave up. She collapsed before the her first day of classes even started and had to be taken home.

The doctors couldn't explain why she had fainted so suddenly, at first attributing it to stress, but it happened again the following night while she was at home alone, idly washing dishes. This time, however, the force that struck her was so potent that it didn't travel through her like before, it enveloped her down to her very marrow and burned. There was excruciating battle going on in her head that put her on her knees and not matter how she pleaded in those next few minutes for the tug-of-war to be severed, there was no relief, just more pain and more layers of pure energy crushing her and forcing its way into her body until, graciously, she fainted. Tourniquet found her early the next morning when she returned home from a night shift at the hospital.

The doctors felt it wise to return Fay to a homeschooling regiment for the time being, until they could decipher the cause of her fall outs. They couldn't find anything diagnostically to pinpoint why it had happened. By all means, she appeared normal for some weeks until she began getting frequent headaches and somethings she dared not tell the physicians began occurring. There were two more instances in which she was overwhelmed and spiraled into unconsciousness, each arising after what seemed to be periods of rest in which she had almost been cleared to return to school, the third instance being much worse than the first and both being met with a plethora of migraines so severe Fairytale wasn't sure she could survive them, but it was the things she couldn't tell the doctors that were happening, increasing after these events, that truly disturbed her.

After the third “event,” a period of silence aside from arguably minor headaches as compared to before allowed her clearance to return, finally, to school. She had just started her second week at Canterlot High. She was there earlier than most, stowed away in a corner of the library that she had deemed a sanctuary of sorts. Unless the past week had lied to her, virtually no one ventured to that particular area aside from the librarian, Miss Cheerilee, and that meant that no one was likely to see what a mundane hobby had turned into.

Despite having at first insisted on using her teeth rather than her hands and how appalling her handwriting was, it didn't take long for Fairytale to discover the written word. As the doctors agonized her through a series of rudimentary tests to gauge the scope of her strange amnesia, it became apparent to her that forming words into tangible images came to her naturally and something about that sensation, about creating descriptive images, was familiar. Writing became a welcome comfort to outlet her stress and sort out her discomforts, until shortly after she collapsed the first time.

In the silence of the library, she wrote tentatively in what was supposed to be, strictly, her math binder. The imagery was specifically docile, for the sake of an anxiety that dwelled in her heart every time she picked up a writing utensil. It was a butterfly, just a butterfly. It was just a silver winged insect that had appeared to her in a dream that she wanted to document on paper. That was all. She just wanted its image scripted in graphite on lined paper. She didn't want anything more, but as soon as her pencil scratched in the last period, the paper began to glow and that light morphed into wings before her eyes. When it faded away, there sat an organic butterfly with silver wings tasting the paper it had come from with its proboscis.

Fay stared at the butterfly, not half as surprised one had should have been when a paragraph came to life. Ever since she collapsed the first time, anytime she wrote something down, she had started running the risk that it wouldn't stay locked inside her paper. It started out with things so small and so translucent and short lived that she swore that she had been hallucinating due to the “stress” her doctors always alluded to, but after the second time the energy assaulted her, the things that pulled free become bigger and more solid, they lasted longer. After the third, it was almost a garantee that something would come out if she wasn't careful and, even she was, it was happening more often than not now. Her outlet was becoming something increasingly frightening and potentially dangerous and she had no idea why.

The girl took a deep breath then started counting, watching the butterfly as it explored the table, timing how long the creature would remain before disappearing. The longer it stayed, the more anxious she felt that her greatest fear might come to fruitation; It might not go away at all.

“Fairytale.”

The sound of her name being called gently startled her with a strangled yelp. Her cry frightened the silver butterfly into flight. Entirely on reflex, Fay snatched up her notebook and slammed it shut on the poor, unsuspecting creature just as the owner of the voice rounded the nearest bookshelf.

“There you are. I keep forgetting how far out of the way this table is,” the girl commented, pleasantly with the back of her hands on her hips, examining the corner nook, casually.

“U-Uh, good morning,” Fay managed as her moment of panic subdued. She leafed through her binder. The butterfly was gone.

“Good morning to you too,” the girl replied, then frowned. “What...happened to your face?”

Fay touched the sore stop on her cheek that had gotten scrapped on Sunday when some unkind gaggle of girls tripped her. “I-I fell...” She didn't want to bother the other girl with the details of her encounter. Truth be told, the event confused her. Words had been spoken that just didn't make a lick of sense at any angle. She wasn't even entirely sure what all it had entailed, only that it was odd, not at all very nice, and unnerving.

We'll be in touch.

The echo of the vaguely amused promise made her insides quiver uneasily.

“If you say so...” the other didn't seem at all convinced and even a bit disappointed by the obvious evasion.

As she took the seat next to Fairytale, Fairytale edged to the opposite side of her chair, putting a splayed hand's width between them. She always hoped that this purposeful additive of distance, however small, would go unnoticed, but she knew by the drop in one corner of the other girl's smile that it didn't. How could it after that first time? Fay hadn't exactly left the best impression...

It was no question that Fairytale Lyric was not in a position where assimilating into a bustling school atmosphere was going to be easy. Her condition and prior isolation to those close to her age left her socially handicapped and the anxious personality that Celestia had felt radiating off of her the first day they had met months before only enabled such a challenge even more. Then, there was the matter of her schooling. A homeschool curriculum had not caught her up to the other students of her age. Academically, she was almost crippled. Without help, she would lag behind her peers and, the principal and the girl's guardian both feared, eventually lose sight of them. On the day of Fairytale's return to school, this was the heated topic as they worked out a timetable for her.

“I don't think we'd have any trouble placing her in at least an advanced Literature class,” Celestia noted, her head propped on one hand in a business-like manner. “That is, if it weren't for her other subjects being so weak by comparison. Advanced classes require a lot more work. It is my belief that the load, given the outstanding circumstances, would be a bit too much.” She leafed through the paperwork spread out before her, documenting the new students grades and progress throughout her short, known academic career. “It's unfortunate. Your grades are remarkable in that one subject.” Celestia glanced from the papers to the teen sitting across from her, fidgeting with the hem of her knitted, peach dress. The principal rested her elbows on the desk and folded her hands, regarding the nervous girl, kindly. “What do you think?”

Fay's eyes snapped reflexively to Tourniquet, who gave her an encouraging smile, then at Principal Celestia, who was doing much the same. “Uh...” she fumbled before quickly shaking her head. “I-I think...I should just take regular classes. I...” She shrank into her shoulders. “I don't think I can keep up with anymore than that.”

“It's true...You are quite behind,” Celestia noted, looking now to her computer. The clicking of a mouse accented her thought process as she worked to outline the girl's class schedule. “We keep coming back to that very issue. I think I might have a solution, however.”

“Anything to help her,” Tourniquet confirmed.

Celestia nodded, distractedly. “I think a tutor would do her some good. Perhaps one of our better students, someone to make sure Fairytale Lyric doesn't fall too far behind in her classes and who she can go to if she needs a little extra help.” Seeing the hesitation on Fairytale's face, the principal tacked on. “Of course, if the arrangement were to cause any issue for the other student, we'd have to alter our strategy. For now, if you'll agree, I think this will be our best course of action. I'll find a student to fill the position before the day is out.”

There was something entirely final in Celestia tone that made Fairytale realize that this had already been decided before it was even verbalized, but even if she had the gumption to go against the idea, she couldn't think of a single good argument. She was terrified and knew very well that she was going to need all the help she could get to survive.

Tourniquet checked her watched. “I hate to cut this short, but I'm going to be running a tad late getting to the hospital if I don't leave in the next few minutes.”

Celestia stood up behind her desk and offered Tourniquet her hand. “Don't you worry. Fairytale is in good hands.”

Tourniquet stood herself and shook the principal's hand. “Thank you so much. I'm counting on you to take good care of her.” Celestia gave an 'of course' sort of smile. Tourniquet then turned to Fay, who was trying her best not to look like her foothold on the rock face was about to crumble away. She kissed her charge on the forehead. “Call if you need anything and go straight to the nurse if you feel like your going to have one of those episodes. Nurse Red Heart should be well informed on your condition.”

She forced a timid smile. “Yes, ma'am.”

They bid farewell and, suddenly, Fairytale was alone with Principal Celestia and the pressure that was the public academic system. Her nerves were twisting uncomfortably in her stomach as Celestia, gently, made conversation with her about basic school rules and the temperaments of the individual teachers while finishing up her timetable. When the schedule had finally been perfected and printed, Celestia pressed a button on an intercom system at the corner of her desk.

“Vice Principal Luna, would you come into my office for a moment please?” she requested.

There was a small wait before the door to the office opened, revealing the Vice Principal. Fay remembered her from the last time she had been inside the building months back, but only realized then how uncannily similar the Principal and Vice Principal were in appearance, despite the drastic difference in their color scheme. They could have been related. Maybe they were.

“You wanted to see me, Sister?”

Despite having the thought, it would be a lie to say she wasn't surprised that they really were of blood relation.

“Yes, I need a favor of you, if you don't mind.” Celestia handed Fairytale her timetable. “Would you mind showing Miss Lyric where her locker is located and to the class she has this hour?”

Luna's teal hues glanced to Fairytale, whom she offered a smile that was not near as magnetic as Celesta's but soft nonetheless, then back to her sister. “I would be happy to escort our new student.”

“Also” Celestia added. “Would you pull Sunset Shimmer from her class and have her come to my office? I have something I need to discuss with her.”

Luna nodded. “Of course.” She turned her attention to Fairytale then. “If you're ready.”

“Y-Yes,” Fay fumbled. She stood and picked up her heavy messenger bag, laden heavily with all of her school materials she and Tourniquet had gone out and bought the day before. She awkwardly stumbled, to her embarrassment, at the uneven weight distribution. Already, she was getting the sense this day was going to have at least three bad elements to it. She smiled, awkwardly, at the concerned expression the Principal gave her. She, reflexively for reasons she couldn't begin to outlined, bowed to her. “Th-Thank you for everything.” Realizing how queer she must of looked, she quickly straightened back up, her cheeks feeling increasingly hot. Make that at least seven bad elements.

“You're very welcome,” Celestia replied with a tone that eased some of the awkwardness Fairytale felt looming like a poison cloud over her. “I hope your second official day at Canterlot High is a good one.”

Fairytale wasn't sure that her 'first day' could even be called a day, considering she hadn't even seen the face of her first teacher, but she thanked Principal Celestia once more. Vice Principal Luna led her out of the office and to an alcove by one of the gym doors that was eerily dark because of a busted fluorescent light. The vice principal waited patiently while Fairytale deposited the bulk of her bags contents into the locker aside from what she need that particular hour, then led the girl to said class, outlining the school conversationally along the way in hopes that the information would serve to keep her from getting too lost later on. Luna had a few words with Fairytale's teacher before leaving her to the prying, curious eyes of her peers at the front of her first class. Fairytale was sure she was going to throw up before the day was out.

The new student left to the terribly frightening task of assimilating into teenage culture, Luna opened the door to a classroom at the end of the hallway. The lesson immediately stopped all progression. The teacher who had been writing notes on the board for the class on how to properly graph some kind of elongated equation without a calculator while jabbering on about the consistency of butter, look over at the door with, at first, a stern and insulted expression that melted away quickly to a smile that wasn't exactly kind, just accepting of the disturbance to her ramblings.

“Vice Principal Luna,” the math teacher greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“My sister wishes to see one of your students, Variable Tangent,” Luna responded. Her attention turned to the seat of the student in question. “Sunset Shimmer, would you come with me please?”

Sunset, who had diligently been taking notes despite already having a grasp on the material, looked up from her work with a quizzical expression. Old habit immediately made her heart skip a beat as she sped through her memories for anything she could have done wrong that would land her a visit to the principal's office. Nothing came to her mind. In fact, she was positive that she had done absolutely nothing bad to warrant disciplinary action. The whispers that started up throughout the classroom did nothing to make her feel any less unnerved, despite the rationale that such a commotion would have started up even if she wasn't the reason for the VP's visit.

“Yes, ma'am,” Sunset replied after taking a reflexive moment to make sure that the whispers weren't adverse assumptions about her.

After gathering her things, Sunset joined Vice Principal Luna out in the hall. Having sensed the students discomfort, Luna assured her, “You are not in trouble, Sunset Shimmer. You can be at ease.”

The exhale of a breath Sunset didn't know she was holding animated just how worried she was. “That's good.” Her relief was quickly struck away by curiosity. “Wait, then why does Principal Celestia want to see me?”

“She'll fill you in on the details,” Luna replied as they began walking back to the office.

When they reached the office, Luna gestured for Sunset to go on inside before returning to her own office space. Despite being assured that she wasn't in any trouble, Sunset still felt irrationally uneasy. Despite how far she'd come since the Fall Formal and knowing she was in a much better place now, there was always in itch at the base of her neck that nagged her that all of that could falter and topple down with the twitch of a hand. Her fretting made her hesitate a few seconds before she rolled her eyes at herself and knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

Sunset opened the door and edged inside, closing it behind her. “You wanted to see me, Principal Celestia?”

Celestia nodded, not lifting her head from the paper work she was signing. With her free hand, she motioned to one of the two chairs positioned in front of her desk. “Please, take a seat.”

Sunset, promptly, did as she was told and then waited with a hidden impatience to be properly addressed. A good two minutes felt like two hours before Celestia finished signing the pile of paperwork she had neglected earlier that morning. She pushed it aside, finally turning her eyes to her student.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Principal Celestia got right down to the reason for calling Sunset into her office, not wanting to keep her away from her lessons any longer than necessary.

Sunset's eyebrow quirked, inquisitively. “A favor?” All her residual nerves fell away. “What is it?”

Celestia leaned back in her chair, her hands neatly pressed together at the fingers tips. “We have a new student.”

After the battle of the bands, Sunset felt a moment dread that she immediately deemed as silly. If she weren't sitting right in front of the principal, she would have rolled her eyes at herself again for being so suspicious.

“A new student?” Sunset parroted to urge the woman on.

“Yes. Her name is Fairytale Lyric. She started classes this morning,” Celestia went on. “I'd like it if you would agree to take her under your wing. Due to some...circumstances, she's drastically behind the other students in her studies and a bit ill-equipped socially. As one of my best students and, seeing how far you've come yourself by social standards, I can't think of anyone who would be better for the task.”

“Circumstances?” Sunset asked with a slight tilt of her head.

Celestia had known that Sunset would ask, though she had hoped that she wouldn't. The principal had to think carefully over what information would be too invasive into her newest student's privacy.

“You see, Sunset Shimmer,” the principal began, carefully considering her boundaries where privileged information was concerned, “Fairytale Lyric suffered from a very serious case of amnesia a little more than a year ago. I can't go into too many details, you understand, but she's coming to us after a long period of trying to adjust to her memory loss from the ground up. Her academics, as a result, are rather poor in most subjects, leaving myself and her guardian worried that she'll fall too far behind on her own. As well, she doesn't necessarily have the skills to interact with the other students. I think it might be safe to say that she's in a strange new world without a cornerstone. It might be asking a lot of you, but I'd like to ask you to be that for her; A cornerstone. Someone she can go to when things get...difficult and to help her gather her barrings.”

It was a task that Sunset knew she wouldn't say no to, especially when she imagined just how alone this Fairytale Lyric girl must have felt just from the short, vague description that Celestia had given her. Sunset felt a kinship toward the bitter cold of being alone, physically and metaphorically, and it was a chill that she hated to know other people felt, albeit in fashions and degrees that were more than a little diverse. She wanted to help anyone and everyone she could if they were in the shadows, whatever those shadows were made of, because of her personal experiences and her ongoing mission to both prove and improve herself. Despite these desires, however, the outright weight of the task being set out for her was not light. It wasn't so heavy as saving the school from being ripped to shreds by holes in space, but it still had a good bit of weight, and that fact alone made the reformed student feel apprehensive, though perhaps she shouldn't judge the weight until she had actually met the girl Celestia wanted her to become a pillar for.

“I'll do it,” Sunset responded before her uncertainty could take up a noticeable moment of silence.

Celestia smiled. “I know I'm asking a lot of you...”

Sunset shook her head, knowing the speech a bit too well at this point as one she had heard too often as a filly in Equestria when it was made by the woman's counterpart, and knowing as well that it would only put a bigger knot of hesitance in her stomach than she already felt. “I'm happy to her.”

The principal nodded. “This will involve taking some of your time after school. To keep Fairytale in pace with all the other students, I'll need you to make sure she grasps the criteria. Are you prepared for that?”

“That's fine,” Sunset replied, taking a slight glance at the clock. The bell signaling the class change would be going off in less than a few minutes.

Principal Celestia took notice of the clock on the wall herself. “If you would come back here during your lunch hour, I'll introduce you and we'll all discuss the arrangement.”

Sunset nodded. “Alright.”

A moment later, the bell sounded and she was dismissed to her next class.

By the time the lunch hour came around, Fairytale had fallen over nothing but her own feet multiple times, collided with at least a dozen people while trying to navigate the crowded hallways, and went into the wrong classroom her third hour. The notice that Principal Celestia wanted her to come by her office was entirely a god send to her at that point. She was frazzled, overwhelmed, and wanted nothing but a little quiet to let her swollen mind air out. She didn't even care why she was there, she just knew that it would be far less chaotic than anything the cafeteria could offer her.

It had taken her two wrong turns to finally get herself to the principal's office. Standing in front of the door of some heavily stained wood, Fay hesitated, caught between whether or not she was meant to knock or if she was supposed to just walk right in, considering Principal Celestia had instructed her to come. In the end, the fear of intruding won over. She rapped her white knuckles against the reddish surface twice, then retracted her hand. She wondered if she had knocked hard enough, considering how thick the door appeared to be from this side, but her worry was canceled by a muffled voice instructing her to enter. She'd have felt better if someone had come and opened the door to let her in, but she shook the thought away. She turned the handle and walked into the room.

Just as the door clicked shut behind her, Celestia greeted her. “Miss Lyric, how has your day gone so far?”

Fay didn't have the tongue for lying outright and saying it had been going exceptionally well but also didn't have the courage to animate why she wanted to retreat. “It's...been an adventure,” she decided after taking a second or two to decide on the best, nutreul answer she could offer.

“I'd expect it has been, all things considered,” the principal replied, motioning for Fairytale to take a seat.

Fay, reflexively, sat in the same chair she had that morning. “Why did you...want to see me?” she ventured. The question, if her voice didn't have a perpetual edge of uncertainty, would have been rhetorical, in truth. Fairytale could guess.

As if on cue, her guess was confirmed by knocking on the door that she was sure rung out with a more solid note than she had offered. Celestia called for the person beyond the door to come on in. That was the first time Fairy laid eyes on Sunset Shimmer's burning but contrarily cool and gentle aesthetic. It was also the first time Fay felt the aura that Sunset brought with her into a room. It was faint, but it radiated off of her like a pale mist and familiarly tickled Fairytale's skin, raising hundreds of peeks on the back of her neck. It felt like a modicum of the energy she had been assaulted by so many times in the last months had trickled into the room with her. It was such a faint sensation, though unyielding, that Fairytale threw it to the back of her mind. It had be a result of her nerves. No more, but more nerves was truly the last thing the pig tailed girl needed.

“This is Sunset Shimmer. She's agreed to be your tutor,” Celestia introduced informatively as Sunset closed the door behind her.

In an awkward attempt at being polite, Fay stood up from her seat and offered a courteous nod. “It's nice to meet you, Sunset Shimmer. My name is Fay—er, F-Fairy--” Somewhere, her tongue got twisted. Her neck colored as she exhaled the knot in her mouth. “Fairytale. My name is Fairytale Lyric.” The small smile she wore was apologetic as she brushed her bangs out of her averted eyes. “B-But I guess you can just call me whatever you want.”

The smile Sunset offered her in return was a kind one which that fire haired girl hoped would help her new acquaintance to relax. “It's nice to meet you too.”

Sunset came over and sat in the seat next to Fairytale, prompting the other to drop back into her chair. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap, chastising herself for being such a jittery bug. She was certain she hadn't made one good impression all day. Like with Sunset, she had blundered every introduction and managed to exhibit one clumsy flare or another in every class. She was far above the mark of seven bad elements popping up. There had to have been at least two dozen and the day was only half over. Fairytale never liked thinking so, because she could never rationally classify something as entirely bad, but maybe she was really just destined to have rough day without enough smooth edges to cushion it.

The next fifteen minutes were spent discussing, between the three of them, a plan that would ideally insure that Fairytale eventually caught up and keep pace with the other students. In the end, it was decided that Sunset and Fairytale would meet three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, after school. On Mondays, they would also meet before school to do an overview of the week before. If Fay felt like she needed extra help, she was to confide in Sunset directly.

“If we're all in agreement, I'd like make sure you girls have time to eat your lunch before your next lessons begin,” Principal Celestia concluded.

Sunset and Fairytale exchanged shallow glances. Sunset's gaze asked if Fairytale needed anything more while Fairytale's eyes questioned whether or not Sunset really wanted to put so much time and effort into her. Neither said anything, so Celestia dismissed them.

Fairytale followed Sunset out into the hall, feeling like she should say something, but struggling to find exactly what she wanted to articulate. “Um, thank you in advance for everything.”

“You're welcome,” Sunset assured her. “Would you like me to show you to the cafeteria? If you want, I'm sure my friends wouldn't mind you sitting with us.”

Fay smiled sincerely at the offer but softly shook her head. “Thank you, but I'm...I'd like to go sit somewhere quiet. Vice Principal Luna pointed out the library to me earlier and...Today's already been a really big adventure.”

“I think I understand where you're coming from,” Sunset replied, her smile twitching empathetically at one corner. Coming back to school after the Fall Formal was like starting school all over again, only with a lot of uneasy glares and an overwhelming amount of whispering. She'd wanted to retreat a few times herself then. While the circumstances were different, Sunset could respect the need to desensitize. “I'll see you there after school then, but don't be afraid to look for me if you need anything at all before then.”

“Right. Thank you. Again.”

Sunset gave a partial wave before turning and heading for the cafeteria. Fairytale returned the wave with a small one of her own before going to opposite direction. Lucky for her, the library was fairly large and accented with wide open double doors. For the first time that day, she didn't have to back track to find what she was looking for.

That afternoon, Fairytale had gotten to the library first. She lingered by the front desk near the door to wait for Sunset. She worried, as the halls thinned out to a rivulet of students, that maybe she had been forgotten. She felt at ease the moment the bright contrast of red and yellow caught her eye.

“Sunset Shimmer!” she ventured to call out, waving to get the other's attention.

Sunset looked over at her name being called. She smiled as she came over. “Hey. I hope you weren't waiting too long, I lost track of time talking to my friend Twilight.” She rubbed the back of her neck apologetically.

Fay shook her head. “It's not like you're late or anything.”

“How was your first day at Canterlot High?” Sunset asked, conversationally.

“Would...it be bad to say I'm glad it's over?” Fairytale replied, shuffling her feet.

Sunset offered an encouraging smile. “It'll get easier. I promise.” Her tone had a tinge of humor toward Fairytale's honest joke that made the corners of her lips quirk upwards. “Why don't we find a table?”

“I found a table I kind of like during lunch,” Fay offered, “if you don't mind.”

The other girl shrugged permissively. “Lead the way.”

The table Fairytale led her to was in the farthest corner of the library that, compared to the front part, seemed a bit aged. Perhaps that was the fault of the light coat of dust on the books that indicate most of them hadn't been touched in quite a while.

“I didn't even know there was a table back here,” Sunset commented as she plopped into one of the chairs.

“I'm not sure many people do.”

Fairytale sat down next to her, depositing her bag on the floor. The close proximity made her aware with a tingling of her skin of the energy Sunset emitted, but she continued to try and disregard the sensation as a figment of her imagination. They conversed for a while about where Fairy thought she had the most trouble academically so Sunset could better gauge what she was dealing with, occasionally throwing in tangents of friendly dialogue that made the atmosphere much more at ease than Fairytale had initially imagine it would be. They moved on, eventually, to the homework that she had gotten that day, maintaining the spin off of friendly conversation between the questions and corrections passing between them.

Fairytale had decided in those thirty minutes that she really enjoyed Sunset Shimmer's company, even with the ethereal air that came with her that the pastel girl couldn't seem to shake. She was easy to be around and didn't seem to be passing any adverse judgments toward Fay's quirky behavior, let alone her struggles in Chemistry. She displayed a lofty patience toward every simple question that was hesitantly offered. All around, she was nice. There was nothing bad to be said about her. In fact, she was someone Fairy expected she would want to be around. Until they touched.

It was simple and no more than a brush. Sunset had just leaned over to point out where Fairytale had miscalculated in balancing an equation and their shoulders just barely met. It was like small volts of electricity had just invaded Fairytale's body, penetrating her pale skin and traveling from her shoulder, up her neck, into her forehead. It wasn't painful like anything she had felt before. More than anything, it startled her so fiercely that she yelped and jerked back, toppling out of her chair haphazardly in the process.

“W-What...?” she clamored out, inaudibly. There was no mistaking it then. The energy on Sunset's person was real and it was the same as the massive power surges that had infiltrated her body since the first time she tried to start attending school.

Sunset, who was jolted in surprise by Fairytale's left field outburst, had jumped to her feet about the same time the other girl fell over. “Are you okay?” The orange toned girl frowned when she didn't receive an immediate reply from a baffled Fairytale. She came around her chair and began to reach out to pull the other girl up. “Here, let me help yo--”

Fairytale's hands shot up before she could think. “No!” The word came out in such an abrupt panic that Sunset retracted her hand as though it was two seconds from being burned. The confusion and mildly hidden hurt that Fay didn't have the time to question made Fairytale flounder for an explanation to her behavior. “I-I...I didn't...uh...uh...um...” She clumsily sat up and used the table to stand, all the while babbling incoherent stutters. “I-I don't...I don't like...being touched?” It was the only lame excuse that came to her mind and it was so vague that she couldn't help how it came out with the edge of a question. She didn't believe it and, by the suspicious, quizzical look Sunset was giving her, she was positive the other girl didn't believe her either. “I-I'm so sorry...” Fay shrank into her shoulders.

Sunset, entirely taken aback by whatever switch had suddenly been flipped between them, didn't pry further. Out of respect for Fairytale Lyrics discomfort or to break the tension, she steered them back toward the atom count that made Fairy's equation remain unbalanced.

After the hoopla the pale girl had made their first session together, how could Sunset not notice how Fairytale so blatantly kept distance between them? They hadn't know each other long, but Sunset expected it. She waited for it and Fay received the same hurt expression every time that made guilt coil inside her. Fay didn't think the hurt was so simple as to just be because she, supposedly, has some issue with physical contact. She wasn't good at reading people, but the masked injury was complex, which only made Fairy feel even worse. Whatever that aura was, Sunset was kind and had taken quite a bit of time out of her life to help her. It made Fairytale frustrated with herself beyond all reason, but no matter how many different ways she imagined explaining the real reason she didn't want Sunset to touch her again, none them made her sound any less than crazy.

“Um...” the pastel girl flipped open her math binder, purposely avoiding the page that had recently sprouted an insect, to her notes on the different types of algebraic equations. “So math. I...still don't really understand how to do...any of it.”

“You were doing well last week,” Sunset assured her. “You don't give yourself enough credit.”

Sunset leaned against the table, breaking into the space Fay had put between them as she pulled the binder toward herself. Fay stalled her muscles, refusing to retreat as the splayed hand became no more than two fingers of distance. The hurt drained away from the brighter schemed girl's expression as she patiently began going over linear equations and the steps it took to solve them. Not once had she let her misgivings toward Fairytale's behavior change how she treated her so far, aside from being noticeably careful not to fully encroach the avenue that kept them out of physical contact. The thoughtfulness was much appreciated, especially after Fairytale learned later in the week that Sunset wasn't the only one steaming that aura...

Chapter 3: Vibrant De'ja Vu

Chapter 3

Vibrant Deja'vu

The latest but ultimately familiar face at the Rainbooms' usual lunch table had learned many things in her relatively short time at CHS, but one of the most important things she had learned had come at the lunch hour; When Applejack brought a bagged lunch from home, Granny Smith was taking one of her frequent personal days, and when Granny Smith took a personal day, the cafeteria cuisine became virtually inedible.

Twilight Sparkle wrinkled her nose at the mound of...something that might have been chicken once by the smell that was piled onto Pinkie Pie's plate across from her. The indigo haired girl fixed her glasses, narrowing her eyes contemplatively at the patty of some kind of obscure protein. It was chicken, right? Maybe? It could have been pork or beef. The greasy, fried exterior didn't leave many hints and the white sauce didn't help it look anymore appetizing.

“Want some?!” Pinkie Pie suddenly jabbed a fork at her that was harboring a piece of the fried meat. It was so close to her nose that Twilight had to cross her eyes to really look at it. Maybe it was pork and not chicken?

Twilight, gently, pushed Pinkie's hand away. “No, thank you, Pinkie.”

“You sure?” Pinkie asked before shoving the piece into her mouth. “Mmmm...Cardboardy!”

Twilight hadn't quite gotten used to how Pinkie Pie would eat just about anything the cafeteria served and in large quantities. She recalled Rainbow Dash answering her wonder with something about Pinkie bursting with so much energy, she'd collapse if she didn't eat like a pig. Considering the pink haired girl's slender figure and boisterous personality, the idea didn't seem like too much of a stretch in hindsight.

“Honestly, Pinkie Pie, at least chew with your mouth closed,” Rarity scolded from her seat beside Twilight.

“What?” Pinkie answered, her mouth filled to the brim with partially chewed meat and unappetizingly soggy mash potatoes. She spittle a little bit, a concoction of saliva and potatoes hitting the table in front of Twilight, much to both her and Rarity's disgust.

“Don't talk with your mouth full either! It's very unlady-like,” Rarity complained, searching her overfull purse for a tissue.

Applejack had produced a napkin from her lunch bag and leaned over the table to hand it to Twilight. “Here ya go, Sugarcube.”

“Thank you.” Twilight gratefully took the napkin and cleaned the space in front of her of unappealing food debris.

“Has anyone seen Sunset, yet?” Rainbow Dash spoke up from the end of the table where she was straddling a backwards turned chair.

“I think she was in the line to get lunch,” Fluttershy replied, helpfully, picking at the salad she'd brought from home.

Not a moment later, their yellow and red haired friend was walking toward the table, sporting nothing in her hands. One look at Applejack's lunch from home gave her every answer she needed as to why the food selection looked like it had been sitting out for three days. Sunset dropped in a seat next to Twilight discontentedly, resting her eyes on her hands in hopes that the pressure would ease the tension in her shoulders.

“Still...having trouble with the new student?” Twilight tuned in, uncertainly.

Sunset nodded. “She's terrified of me. I swear she had to have heard about who I used to be or something.”

Twilight was silently patting herself on the back for being correct in her observation, considering she wasn't exactly an expert on reading her friends the way they seemed to be about each other. Though, perhaps this problem was a given. It had come up several times since the previous Monday when Fairytale Lyric first started school.

“Darling, I think you're taking this too personally,” Rarity offered, checking herself absently in a compact mirror. “Fairytale isn't exactly a brave character from what any of us have seen of her.”

“Rarity's right, Sunset,” Applejack put in with a shrug. “Maybe she's just a germaphobe or somethin'. It's not like anyone talks 'bout yer “old self” 'round here anymore. She probably ain't even heard about it.”

“Buuuuuuut,” Pinkie drawled, gathering the attention of the table. “Fairytale Lyric actually had her first day of school back a few days before the Fall Formal, when Princess Twilight came to school the first time, back when Sunny was a toooootal, rampaging meanie.”

There was a chorus of curious blinking around the table.

“It...was?” Sunset ventured.

“Uh huh! But she never even made it to class because she fainted and never came back until now. I thought she died!”

“And how, pray tell, do you know that?” Rarity asked the nagging question. They all had come to realize, even Twilight, that Pinkie Pie's blunt ramblings always held some truth to them not matter how outlandish it was that she knew the information. The question was really just a formality at this point, one they all expected to be answered with some obscure joke.

“I saw her faint!” Pinkie announced. The little look of surprise on Rarity's face at the actually believable answer was dismantled by the pale fashionista reapplying her lip gloss.

“Ugh! Fantastic.” The orange skinned girl dropped her head to the table with a thud. She'd hope that she could at least pretend to question Pinkie's knowledge from the other side, but if she said she saw it, Sunset had no choice but to give in to the truth. Pinkie, no matter how much she walked the bird, never lied very well.

Rainbow Dash finally decided to put in her two cents. “I really don't think you have anything to worry about. Have you seen her around school? She's not exactly inviting to anyone. There's been a few times that Nervous Nelly has made Fluttershy look like the pinnacle of calm.” Her magenta eyes darted to Fluttershy at the other end of the table. “No offense.”

Fluttershy smiled softly. “None taken.”

“Statistically,” Twilight observed with her elbows on the table and her hands thoughtfully locked in front of her, “it is rather unlikely that she would have heard anything about you on her “first day” if what Pinkie says is true and she never even made to class. Even on her first day attending classes, especially when the Fall Formal was so long ago and so much has happened in between now and then, it's rather unlikely that she's heard anything adverse or negative about you. The only reason I even know about the Fall Formal incident and the way you used to behave is because you girls told me about it. I haven't heard about it from anyone else the two months I've been here. Honestly, I've only heard good things about you.” She cocked a smile in Sunset's direction. “Besides, her knowing you were once...”

“Heh.” Sunset rolled her eyes, but smiled humorously. “A raging she-demon?” Rainbow snickered at the term at the end of the table.

“We'll go with that,” Twilight continued. “It doesn't explain why everything was going well until you touched her or how you've interacted since. You told me she even looks apologetic over her behavior. Why would she be sorry if she thought you were a scary, mean person?”

“Have ya tried just askin' her about it?” Applejack asked, resting on elbow on the table and a cheek in her hand. “That seems like a mighty good place to start.”

Sunset lifted her head off the table and rubbed the red mark that had bloomed on her forehead. “I don't want her to think I'm calling her a liar.” She sighed, heavily. “She's not exactly adjusting well and the whole reason Principal Celestia asked me to tutor her is because she thought I could help her find a place here, but I don't even know how to help her when she's so afraid of me for some reason,” Her stress made her speak a bit faster, “Its almost like she's not even actually scared of me. It's being in close proximity to me or something. It just doesn't make sense. I feel like there's something else to it that I'm just not getting!”

Applejack leaned over the table and clapped a hand on Sunset's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “It really sounds like you need to just pull up yer big girl britches and ask her. If ya do it with an open mind, there ain't no harm in it. You've got a good eye for people, so maybe yer gut feelin' about there bein' more to the issue is on point. Besides, Twilight's right, you've told us a few times now that Fairytale looks like there's somethin' on her mind that she wants to say. Maybe she needs this push just as much as you do.”

“I guess you're right,” Sunset relented. “Asking would be better than aimlessly worrying about it...and probably more fair to Fay too.”

Pinkie broke in suddenly, “Doooooes anyone else have the feeling that a trio of once mind controlling,”--She made this point by twirling her fingers around either side of her head and rolling her eyes around in their sockets.-- “sinister baddies we defeated before are going to swing open the cafeteria doors with a show stopping flare that will make everyone go really quiet?” She animatedly whispered the last part with a finger over her lips.

As if cued by the last syllable of Pinkie's high octave whisper, the doors to the cafeteria clamored open. Each of the double doors hit the walls besides them. The sudden bang and rattling that followed as the doors vibrated silenced the mangled cacophony of a hundred voices. Normally, the voices would have immediately started up again, but all eyes were glued on the door way. Three familiar personas stood in the door frame. Each wore a different level of smug on their face in response to the limelight of uneasiness and occasional glares that spread out across the various tables.

“Like that!” Pinkie shouted as she jumped up and pointed, her echoing voice momentarily breaking the quiet before the room fell still again.

It was just as Pinkie said, there stood the Dazzlings, the once Sirens no one had seen in months. The dead silent room held a choking grasp of anticipation. Each heart in the room contagiously waited for a nostalgic reenactment of the lunchroom performance that had introduced the eye catching trio to the student body and brain washed the lot of them, but the familiar flare went no farther than the echoing clatter of the doors and the imposing, graceful confidence in their walk as they sauntered into the cafeteria without a sound aside from the chorus of their shoes against the linoleum floor. Soon, the silence was disturbed by hurried whispers that grew slowly into static. Though every word was about them as they trod the same paths they had sketched out during their hypnotic song—About their reappearance, about what they had done months ago--the Dazzlings were impervious to the implications being shot their way. By the way not one of their gaits changed, they may have even enjoyed the mixed attention.

“Honestly, how does she do that?” Rarity whispered quickly, turning her eyes back to the tables inhabitants, shocked by Pinkie's accuracy by the same degree she had about Princess Twilight back during the Fall Formal. No one had ever expected the Dazzlings to even still be in Canterlot City, let alone that they would return to the school.

“Who...are they?” Twilight asked, confusion written on her face as she looked from the trio to her peer group.

“No one good,” Applejack immediately presumed. Everyone of the other girls at the table were tense with apprehension. “We'll have to fill you in later, Twi. I think they're walkin' our way.”

Rainbow turned the right way around in her seat at Applejack's warning, crossing her arms and legs in an unlady-like fashion to offer a glare. Sure enough, the Dazzlings were making a B-line toward their table. The three stopped inches from the Rainbooms' company, not one of them looking as though they had been defeated and humiliated. Truth be told, any outsider would have thought the Dazzlings had won by their haughty demeanor.

“Well, if it isn't the Rainbooms,” Adagio smirked, one hands on her hips. “Long time no see.”

There was a stretch of silence that lasted a second too long, hinting at how each Rainboom was waiting for someone else to engage their old rivals first. Pinkie Pie spoke up, taking up the task. “ It has been a long time! I thought you died!” At least two occupants of the table, each with an orange skin tone, wanted to facepalm at the blunt declaration that mimicked the one she had made about Fairytale a bit ago.

“Not quite,” Adagio responded with a hint of bitterness in her eyes. She recovered by turning said raspberry hues on Canterlot City's resident Twilight Sparkle. A brow raised, she leaned over the table and plucked Twilight's glasses right off her face without any regard for the other girl.

“Hey!” Twilight complained, squinting her eyes, her vision become a mass of blurs.

Adagio examined the glasses, looking through the frames with a frown as the world beyond them hazed over. “I don't recall you wearing spectacles the last time we met, Twilight Sparkle. Truly, they do nothing for you. Neither does that ridiculous bun.”

Sunset stood up then and snatched the glasses from Adagio. “You,”--She handed the glasses back to an almost blind Twilight.-- “don't know this Twilight. This Twilight belongs to this world. Princess Twilight is back in Equestria.”

“Oh, really?” Adagio was intrigued by the loss on the Rainbooms' part. If their scheming produced, the absence of that Equestrian, friendship obsessed princess was just going to make things that much easier on their parts. “Well, I suppose I owe this Twilight Sparkle an apology.” She pointed at Twilight with a careless twist of her wrist. “Sorry, Deary.”

There was not a hint of apology in Adagio's tone. The fact that Twilight caught on only proved as much. Her mouth twitched into a questioning frown. “Thanks...I guess?”

“So...” Rarity broken in with a small attempt at easing the conversations atmosphere. “What brings you three back to CHS?”

“How did you three even get back in here?” Rainbow Dash snipped in all her abrasive nature.

Aria, who had been carelessly examining and picking at the nails on her left hand the whole time, replied in a tone that was vaguely embellished with sarcasm. “As it turns, the principal of this school has a bleeding heart toward anyone who wants to,”--With the hand she wasn't examining, she made air quotes.-- “'reform” and “better” themselves.”

“Isn't that right, Sunset Shimmer?” Adagio tacked on, unable to resist taking the stab.

Her tone reminded Sunset of the time the Dazzlings had circled her in the hall during the preliminaries for the battle of the bands. All the implications riding on that smirking tone almost made her flinch.

Rainbow Dash stood up quickly in defense of her friend, her chair tipping before settling back on all four legs. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

Adagio waved Rainbow Dash off, dismissively, as though she were nothing more than a yapping dog. “Of course not.” A large part of her wished that the rainbow haired girl would fall pray to her temper. After months of brooding, the opportunity for a fight was more than welcome. She was sure, by the glint in Aria's violet eyes, she more than agreed.

“Nah...We don't want to get blasted by anymore flying rainbows,” Sonata commented, seemingly unaware of the tension. If that hadn't been exactly what happened to them, the statement would have sounded absolutely ridiculous. “Is it Taco Tuesday? I really want it to be Taco Tuesday.”

Aria slapped her hand over her face then. “It's Monday. Go back to sleep Sonata.”

“Aw, I really wanted it to be Tuesday!” the blue Dazzling deflated with a small pout.

“They're idiots,” Adagio said to no one in particular, rolling her eyes. “Anywho.” She cocked her head to one side, her massive hair coming over one shoulder. “We came back to...better ourselves, like Aria said. You know, make amends and what not.”

“Uh...That's...great,” Sunset smiled, albeit tersely. “I'm sure we'd all be glad to help you anyway we can---...” She paused. It dawned on the table simultaneously that not a single one of them knew any of the trios names. They had never referred to them by anything other than their band name and what they were.

Adagio, perceptive as the predator she was, caught on. “Oh, right. We never were formally introduced, were we? I guess it never came up, world domination plans and all. My name is Adagio Dazzle. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Below the surface, saying those last five words made the Siren leader ill.

“I'm Sonata Dusk,” the blue haired girl piped in after her leader, much more pleasantly.

There was a noticeable stall in introductions. Sonata nudged Aria's shoulder with her elbow. The purple girl gave an annoyed sigh. “The names Aria. Aria Blaze.”

“We, of course, know all about you,” Adagio made clear to avoid a long trail of seven introductions and pleasantries she couldn't care less about hearing. “Except you.” She nodded to Twilight. “But we know who you are.” Her tone was dismissive. As far as “this world's” Twilight Sparkle was concerned, the Siren leader didn't see her as a threat when compared to the Equestrian princess that had been such a thorn in their last plan. This one was truly just a little girl as far as she could tell, but she'd been wrong before. They'd be keeping an eye on her.

“Uh, well, I suppose it's mighty fine that you girls are tryin' to turn yourselves around,” Applejack commented, tipping back her hat to them.

There was a masked uncertainty in the cowgirl's voice that was shared by the whole table. The Dazzlings had managed to leave a bad taste in all their mouths.(Other than Sonata, she had distracted everyone with her innocent love of tacos.) They didn't make it very convincing that they were in any way changed or that they wanted to. While they weren't so outright abrasive as Rainbow Dash, the sandpaper in their demeanors were as clear as if their skin were made of it. Maybe they did have a right to be a little hostile, given what all had occurred, and they hadn't fully recovered from their defeat, but the bitter taste and skin grating didn't exactly make anyone jump to sing praises for them.

“Are you guys going to eat lunch?” Pinkie Pie asked, enthusiastically, strangling the awkward silence. She presented a skewered meat patty, its white sauce dripping a bit too slowly before splatter on the floor. “We're having wet cardboard!”

The scowl Aria gave when some of the substance hit her boot threatened to throttle the pink schemed Rainboom. As much as Adagio would have loved to see that, she chose to defuse the situation for now. She turned and clamped a hand on Aria's shoulder, signaling a halt to whatever demise her temper was surely concocting.

“We're going to reacquaint ourselves with the school's layout. Seeing as we're here to actually learn a thing or two, we wouldn't want to be late for any of our classes,” Adagio informed. “Now that we've said “hi” to our former enemies, we'll be going.”

Though Aria crossed her arms grumpily and Sonata complained about being hungry, the Dazzlings left the cafeteria with straight backs that dwarfed the student body that shied away from their eye contact even after all the time that had passed.

“Nothing stays calm around here for long, does it?” Rarity commented as she watched the trio sashay out the doors.

Sunset shook her head as the focus of their attention disappeared down one side of the hall. “No. Not it doesn't.”

“Sunset...?” Fairytale asked, quietly, for the third time. Still not getting the other girl's attention, she poked her arm with the end of her pencil.

Sunset Shimmer blinked away her distant, thoughtful expression. “What? Oh, sorry, Fay.” She smiled, apologetically.

“A-Are you okay...?” the pastel girl asked, uneasily. She wondered if this was about how she had been acting toward the other girl or if she had done something to make things worse without realizing it. Or maybe Sunset wasn't feeling well? She fidgeted with her pencil, testing its bend and hoping she didn't accidentally break in the process.

Maybe Twilight was right, the concerned expression on Fairytale's face wasn't the kind you gave someone who you thought badly of, neither was the guilty one that was a hint different than normal. Sunset almost winced. The delayed realization that the pale girl was blaming herself for her distant behavior dawned on her.

“I'm fine, really,” Sunset reassured her, quickly. “I just...” Telling the story of how a trio of mind bending villains had returned to school didn't seem like such a good idea the more Sunset thought about it, especially when Fairytale already walked the halls like there was a ghost around every corner. “Today's...been an adventure.” She smiled playfully at Fay.

Fay, recognizing her own statement, pulled a small smile of her own. “I...see. Do you...want to cut things short today?”

Sunset shook her head. “It's fine. Where do you want to start?”

The unease and clouded thoughts that the Dazzlings' return had set upon her would have to plague her another time and, given the already full haze of her thoughts, asking Fairytale Lyric about the real reason she didn't want to be touched would have to remain unaddressed for another day or two.