Losing Sunlight

Chapters

Chapter 1 - As Sure as the Sunrise
Chapter 2 - The Prodigal Sun
Chapter 3 - Moonshine in the Observatory
Chapter 4 - Sister of the Setting Sun
Chapter 5 - Sunlight Shimmering Love
Chapter 6 - House of the Rising Star
Chapter 7 - Fall of the Burning Sun

Chapter 1 - As Sure as the Sunrise

“Okay, no. I’m not buying it.” Even as she said it, Sunset Shimmer could barely keep the smile out of her voice. She gestured up with her free hand. “There’s no way that thing got anywhere close to the moon without some kind of magic. That can’t be possible!”

The lunar module in question sat over a hyper-realistic photo of the moon’s surface printed on the floor. Staged around it, two stuffed spacesuits posed like they were acting under a lower gravity, the first climbing down a ladder on the module, and his commander proudly proclaiming this spot of museum floor for Amareica. The cheesy lighting didn’t help, lit from beneath as if to say Hey! Look what we did! How many heavenly bodies have you landed on lately?

She was also sure that bottom orangey-gold part was spray-painted tin-foil. Even still, the idea of real-life humans finding a way to stars without any magic whatsoever?

Twilight took the bait with a knowing smile. “You think that’s something? Wait until I show you the rocket that flew it up there.” She pointed up to the sky, or rather the planetarium held up by fishing wire. “This is just the craft they used to gather lunar materials from the surface. The command module is much more space-worthy, trust me.”

“So, this isn’t just a model? This really landed on the moon? The moon moon?” Sunset’s girlfriend nodded at her side, positively beaming. Looking back at the module, her eyes went about as wide as they could get. “... Wow,” she breathed. It was as if she’d teleported from muggy August day in the city to the top of Mount Everhoof, drinking in enough arctic air to refrigerate her insides. The physics, the engineering, the mechanics! “Twilight, this is so amazing! How did they do it?”

True to her name, Twilight’s eyes sparkled. “A part of me was hoping you’d ask!”

And thus began another lengthy, but highly educational history lesson. It left Sunset entranced, totally and completely deaf to the din of all the bustling patrons around them.

She never used to be one for history. Mostly because back at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, a history lesson consisted of her facing off against a dusty, old book. Not really her style. Listening to her girlfriend dork out about the greatest feats humankind had to offer, on the other hand? Breathtaking. For obvious reasons.

It’s why their past few dates added up to a near complete tour of the Canterlot Cosmopolitan Museum. They couldn’t walk from one end to the other in day even if they booked it past all the exhibits marathon-style. So instead, they divided it up by section. A new date, a new era, and a new bow-tie on her girlfriend that usually matched whatever the topic of discussion would be. Today’s had little stars and planets.

With Twilight finishing up, Sunset whistled. “I’ve gotta admit, I’m impressed. You really know your stuff.” Twilight blushed, and her smile spread a bit further. “Although, it must be pretty hard to forget. This world’s history is seriously unbelievable.”

Twilight snorted like a hog. “Right, says the magical unicorn from a dimension where an immortal princess banished her sister to the moon for a thousand years.”

Sunset cracked open a grin. “Yeah, exactly. A real snooze-fest.”

Twilight shoved her with her shoulder as they moved on from the lunar lander’s velvet rope. They walked slow together, like they would if they were walking the shores of a beach and enjoying the feeling of water washing over their feet, arms swinging. Twilight’s eyes roved over the floor as they went. “Well, it might still be fantastic to you, but this is your history now, too. You’ve been here long enough to be a citizen. I mean, if you could ever find a way to explain why there’s no record of you being born in any country on the planet.”

Sunset smirked. “Or, why there’s another ‘Sunset Shimmer’ already living here?”

Twilight tittered, doing that cute thing where she twirled her hair with a finger. “Right, right. Details. But, I’m really glad you wanted to learn more about this world, Sunset. Knowing history can certainly be useful in day-to-day life. Especially if you’re planning on staying.” Her eyes flicked over to Sunset’s when that phrase turned into a question toward the end.

Sunset blinked and bent up her eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve stayed this long, haven’t I?” The way Twilight’s eyes dropped again didn’t seem like she’d struck gold with that answer. She let go of Twilight’s hand and instead put an arm around her girlfriend and pulled her close. “Hey, if you think I’d leave this world for just anything, you really haven’t been paying attention, Sparky.” That got a smile out of her. A warm one. The kind of warm apple pies and hot chocolate were made of. The kind that Sunset was made of when she knew she’d impressed her, or gotten that little laugh out of her. If her smile was half as warm as Twilight’s, that had to be why. “What’s this about?”

Twilight bit her lip. If it didn’t mean shutting her up and giving Twilight an out, Sunset would have gone for a kiss. Twilight squirmed a little, voice lilting toward soprano. “Well—”

A buzzing from Sunset’s back stopped them both in their tracks. It took a second for Sunset’s brain to kick in. “It’s the princess. I can check it later. Go on.”

“No, no,” she said, wiping the air clean like a chalkboard. Sunset knew she’d lost her chance the moment Twilight stepped out of her arm. She also lost her chance for that kiss, too, which at the time decidedly sucked harder. “You should read it. I didn’t have much to say, anyway.”

Sunset grimaced. “Even so, it’s kinda rude of me to check my messages in the middle our date, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be silly.” Wasting no time, Twilight unzipped Sunset’s backpack, took the book, and handed it to Sunset. By then she was smiling. “Don’t let me stop you from talking to the princess.”

“...Alright,” Sunset said. She took the book and frowned at the cutie mark inscribed in the leather. “Just let me read this quick, and we can move on to that glassy-wingy-thing over there. I’ve gotta know the story behind that.”

They shared a smile, and Twilight snickered. “The glassy-wingy-thing it is.”

That’s how Sunset began that message with a smile tugging at her lips. It didn’t take more than a few lines before her smile faltered, brows drawing together, eyes speeding up. The air shifted from cool to gut-punchingly cold.

“Sunset?” Twilight watched her girlfriend’s features sink, and her own collapsed immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Sunset shook her head and flipped the page only to find a blank explanation. She looked up at her girlfriend, expression grim. “Something’s wrong with Princess Celestia.”

Twilight held Sunset by the arm. “What? What is it? Was she kidnapped?”

“No, she’s...” Sunset trailed off, her brow crunching together even further. “Princess Twilight says she’s sick.”

Cold wind numbed Sunset’s knuckles as she yanked the handlebars, leaning left for a high-speed turn. Twilight yelped at her girlfriend’s back as the motorcycle growled around the corner. Sunset grit her teeth, steering her bike back to an upright position and opening up the throttle.

She swerved into the bike lane to avoid smashing into a car, picking up speed. The softly-lit buildings and streetlights that now resembled white lines flew past. Ahead, the setting sun burned searingly bright between rooftops.

Meanwhile, Sunset’s jacket thrashed around her. On a fall day like this one, the only thing keeping her warm was her girlfriend’s body pressed against hers. Which was nice, except for Twilight’s death-hold tightening around her rib-cage at a noticeably increasing rate. Sunset didn’t know why until it hit her that this was the fastest Twilight had ever let her go.

She cut the gas and slowed down as they rounded the last corner to Canterlot High. Even then she had to brake a bit hard before rolling into the parking lot. After pulling up to a spot, Sunset’s boot hit the ground. She cut the engine, and the empty evening quiet crept in.

Sunset grabbed the chain and padlock from her backpack and went to work tying up her baby. She frowned. With a full school week ahead, who knew what those grubby-handed teenagers would do when they saw an expensive machine like this? She muttered a few of her more colourful swears, some Equestrian, some human. When she got back, she’d have to give her an extra polish to make it up to her.

Sunset stood up. “That’ll have to do for now.” She looked back to see Twilight fishing her inhaler out of her pocket. “Can you check on her for me when I’m in Equestria? I don’t want any parking tickets or boots or anything like that.”

Twilight finished taking a puff from her inhaler. “Uh-huh. No problem.”

“C’mon.” Sunset started a brisk pace around the school. The parking lot was in the back, so the quickest route to the statue without breaking into the school was the sidewalk that wrapped all the way around. Twilight followed after.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Do you think I should’ve packed anything? We don’t normally wear clothes, but I promised I’d bring her some human tea, and if I brought over some of this world’s medicine—” Something caught between a sigh and a growl came out of her mouth. “It probably wouldn’t do any good. I can’t know what to bring if I don’t know what’s wrong with her. If Twilight’s letter hadn’t been so vague, maybe I could’ve planned for this!”

They rounded the corner, following the fence. The broken statue came in sight, practically pink in the glowing sun.

Twilight kept pace behind her, trying to keep up as they closed in on the statue. “Well, what did she say?”

“Nothing! She told me she got word that ‘Princess Celestia has fallen gravely ill’ and somehow decided it was okay to leave it at that. What in Equestria does that even mean? None of this makes any sense! I—”

“Sunny,” Twilight said, taking her girlfriend’s hand in hers. “You need to stop.”

Sunset pulled away, her voice ragged. “But, I have to go.”

“I meant you have to stop working yourself up. You’re shaking.”

Sunset looked down. Sure enough, her hands were trembling in Twilight’s. Now that she’d slowed down, she could feel how lightheaded she was. She brought her other jittery hand to her forehead.

“You’re right,” Sunset said, her fingers sinking into her hairline. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on…”

“Just breathe.” Twilight’s voice softened to a whisper, holding Sunset’s cheek and stroking it with her thumb. “Come sit with me on the steps?”

Sunset nodded. She let Twilight lead the way across the courtyard. When they sat down, Twilight took both of her hands, rubbing circles with her thumbs. Sunset did her best with her end of the bargain and tried to remain composed.

For her part, Twilight kept her voice soft and sweet. “I’m so sorry, Sunset. I know how much she means to you. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now.”

Sunset sighed. “I think that makes two of us. It’s been so long since I’ve even seen her, and now this? This isn’t supposed to be able to happen.”

Twilight’s brow tightened over her eyes. “You left on good terms last time, didn’t you?”

Sunset’s mouth tensed. The last time they’d seen each other had been emotional. A lot of things needed to be said. Most of them were apologies and I Love Yous, but some a little less pleasant. Neither of them wanted a fight after being apart so long, but they also knew they needed to clear the air. She hadn’t gone back since. She let her eyes drift away. “Sure, but I guess I’m just wishing I’d visited more.”

Twilight cupped her cheek. “She loves you. I know she’ll be happy to see you.”

A chuckle took Sunset by surprise. “That’s what Princess Twilight said before I saw her last time.”

Twilight smiled. “The princess is very wise. You should definitely listen to her advice.”

They giggled together. Why did she feel like she could take on the world with Twilight around? Sunset hadn’t figured out the mechanics of how exactly, but Twilight always made things feel closer to being okay, even when she couldn’t stop falling apart. How could anyone make this even remotely okay?

With Twilight by her side, Sunset felt her heart rate slow down as Canterlot High cooled off for the evening, the grass glistening from the sprinklers. The setting sun softened all the corners and painted everything a sweeter colour. Even the cool air didn’t bite so hard as it had.

Sunset leaned back, feeling the rough stone steps on her palms. Her smile poked a little higher when she remembered this was where she’d first seen this world’s Twilight.

“Ready to go?”

“More ready than before,” she said, smiling. “Thanks.”

They stood up and Twilight returned the smile in kind. “It was nothing. I know a thing or two about freak-outs. Some would even call me the Princess of Freak-outs.”

Sunset snorted. “Glad to have an expert when I need one.”

They walked across the yard, like they’d done so many times before when they were students. Graduating didn’t make it any less familiar, even if it meant that they probably should stop trespassing eventually.

They stopped in front of the portal, and Twilight turned toward Sunset. “I’m coming with you.”

Sunset’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. You’ve always been there for me.” The proud little smile that peeked onto her face melted something vital inside Sunset. “This time I can be there for you.”

So damn precious. Sunset shook her head. “That’s really sweet, Twi, but… not now. There’s just too much going on to complicate things any more. Changing into a new body for the first time is a pretty big adjustment, not to mention all the Equestrian magic you’d have to get used to.” A crooked smile found its way onto her face. “When I bring you home to the princess, I want it to be about us. We can tell her then.”

Twilight blushed, frowning. “Sunset…”

Having Twilight with her would be a dream—one she’d actually had once or twice. If only there was a way…

Sunset’s eyes sparked. “Hey! I know just the thing.” She reached into her backpack, pulled out her magic journal, and offered it to Twilight. “Take it. That way we can still talk to each other without having to turn you into a pony. I’ll just ask Princess Twilight for hers. It’s not like she’ll be needing it when I’m over there.”

“Sunset, that’s perfect!” Twilight took the journal, hugged it to her chest, and smirked. “Clever girl.”

“I have my moments.” Sunset shrugged, giving her backpack to Twilight. She wouldn’t really be needing a motorcycle helmet and keys where she was going. Twilight put the journal inside and slung the backpack across her back.

Meanwhile, the portal waiting ahead stole Sunset’s attention. She sighed, and slipped her hands in her jacket pockets. “Guess I should go now.”

Taking the collar of Sunset’s jacket, Twilight brought her in for a deep, long kiss. If she had to be honest, neither of them had been the best kissers when they started dating. To be entirely fair, neither of them had had all that many lessons on the subject before. But, true to form, both of them were nothing if they weren’t determined, and by this point, Sunset would say they pretty much mastered the art of a good kiss.

Sunset winced when they pulled apart. “Some way for me to bail on our date, huh?”

“We can finish it when you get back.” Twilight smiled as her arms wrapped around her girlfriend, hands settling at the nape of Sunset’s neck. The embrace brought Sunset close enough to smell that mix of old books, the perfume Twilight borrowed from Rarity for all their dates, and just of a hint a scent that was just unmistakably Twilight’s.

Breathing it all in, Sunset relaxed into Twilight’s arms. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After a long, much needed moment, they separated. Sunset gave her girlfriend one last half-hearted smile before turning away, and disappearing through the portal.

Chapter 2 - The Prodigal Sun

Having her entire skeletal structure stretch, bend, and reform left Sunset feeling a tad woozy. The face-plant into Twilight’s crystal floor didn’t help much either, but it was definitely more than that. A trip through the portal never failed to disorient in a queasy, not-exactly-sure-that-really-happened sort of way, like she’d been hit with a day’s worth of jet-lag all in one go.

She came out smelling like she’d been struck by lightning, and she felt like it, too. She and Twilight still hadn’t figured out why that was. Mostly because they couldn’t stay in the space in-between dimensions long enough to run experiments on its atmosphere. The charred stench wasn’t making her feel any better. With the walls of neatly organized books spinning out of order, Sunset shook her head to ward off the vertigo.

Somepony offered a hoof down her way, and she took it, groaning up a storm. “Okay, seriously. There’s gotta be a way to adjust the portal. I think we’ve got it set on hurl.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Starlight Glimmer said. Her voice was glazed with just a dash of smugness, like she’d been planning that line for a while.

Sunset blinked away the last bit of blurriness and stood straight. “Starlight? Celestia, it’s been ages. We’ve really gotta catch-up. Still keeping Twilight in check for me?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” She held up a hoof to her mouth like it would block all sound from prying ears. “She’d be a mess without me.”

Their grins got a little wider when they heard Twilight in the doorway. “Hey! I hope you’re only saying that because you know I can hear you.”

Hoof-steps echoing, Twilight trotted across the expansive library to her make-shift portal, probably more than a little unimpressed the first thing her friendship students did when they got together was poke fun at her. The second thing was a proper hug, though, so she wasn’t all bad as a teacher. Although, Sunset briefly wondered if it said anything that the third thing would’ve been hitting up the Ponyville Pub together, if they had the time.

No matter what implications any of that had, maybe it didn’t matter. It was never made clear to her whether or not she’d been made an official pupil. She did write Twilight for support and guidance, sometimes on the daily. Maybe she was a foreign-exchange student? Studying abroad? Like, way, way abroad?

Twilight shot a glare at Starlight. “In any case,” she said, switching gears, “I’m so relieved you could make it under such short notice. I hope this won’t affect your studies too much. What did you say to the Dean?”

Sunset pressed her mouth into a thin line, eyes bulging.

Starlight’s eyelids dropped. “You didn’t talk to the schoo—”

“I didn’t talk to the school, no.” Sunset smiled through a chuckle. “Uh, is there any chance I could borrow your journal, Twilight?”

“Of course.” Twilight’s horn lit up and the book floated over from a table across the room. “It says a lot that you came as soon as you could. I’m really glad you’re here.”

Sunset readily accepted the book, along with another hug from Twilight. Was Twilight always this tall? She couldn’t have always been this tall. “Well, it’s not like I’d ignore a message like that.” They pulled back enough to look each other in the eyes. Yeah, she definitely shouldn’t be that tall. This was going to bother her all day. “I mean, what’s going on?” Twilight’s ears wilted and just like that Sunset wished she’d never asked. She winced and said, “I’m guessing you didn’t mean she’s sick in the metaphorical sense.”

Twilight looked away and shifted her weight. The window panes in the skylight spread shadows over her face, like light filtered through the leaves of a tree. “To tell you the truth, I barely know what I meant. The summons from Canterlot was so vague it was almost cryptic.” Her ears bent back the rest of the way. “I guess I’m not really used to getting a form letter.”

“By which she means she spent the whole day pacing and analyzing it.” Starlight whirled her hoof around, orbiting around an invisible planet the size of a gumball.

That sounds about right.Sunset had never known anybody or anypony so frequently on the verge of a panic attack. Then again, that wasn’t a fair assessment. Maybe if she hadn’t been so awful growing up she would’ve met more panicky ponies.

Although, if her record for provoking emotional breakdowns was anything to go by, she probably had a hand or hoof in causing a few panic attacks herself. Her chest tightened just thinking about it.

“I’m not sure I’m looking forward to it, but at least when we get to Canterlot, we’ll have our answer,” Twilight was saying. She turned toward her student. “Starlight, if you need anything, anything at all—”

Starlight flapped a hoof like a flipper. “I know, I know, you’re only a letter away. Sometimes I think you forget I’m a grown mare.”

Twilight blushed. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to say I’ve written out instructions.”

Starlight raised an eyebrow. “For ‘anything at all?’ How?”

Twilight blushed harder. “List-making calms me down.”

Starlight softened. If nothing else, the one thing that gave Sunset hope for Starlight when they first met was how much she cared about her teacher.

There was only a slight height difference between them, but with how Starlight’s head was bowed, her eyes pressed into Twilight from the top of her eyes. It was around then that Sunset realized why Twilight’s height was so irritating, and it came on like a bad case of the pony flu. One moment she was fine, the next she was ready to throw up. The reason it bothered her that Twilight was that tall was that Sunset wasn’t that tall.

And she wasn’t. On the whole, she was just shy of average, really. Just a regular old unicorn. But that was it. She’d expected that to change. She only really thought about it now, but after everything she’d done and been through and risen above in the human world, she thought ...

Her gut twisted. There was even a time where she had both a horn and wings. Surely after that, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume she might’ve accidentally ascended. But, she wasn’t hoping, or theorizing. She came in expecting it. She wanted it again. Not only that, she just blindly assumed she’d earned it, like she just deserved it.

Twilight and Starlight were too focused on each other to notice the drastic shift in Sunset’s countenance. Twilight cringed to Starlight. “Did you get Spike to bed?”

“Give me a challenge,” Starlight said, swiping at the air. “He’s been fast asleep since eight!”

“... Sleep spell?”

“Twilight! I’m wounded!” Starlight held her hoof against her heart. When she saw that Twilight’s expression hadn’t changed, she crossed her hooves. “As a matter of fact, no spells were performed in the making of this bedtime.” She opened one eye. “I bribed him.”

Just as Twilight was about to go off on her, Sunset came in for the save. “Spike’s not coming with us?”

Twilight nodded. “Spike’s very mature for his age, but he’s still so young, and Princess Celestia took care of him sometimes when he was little. If something happens, I just don’t want him around to see. I don’t even want him to know she’s sick, if we can avoid it.”

Sunset smirked at Starlight. “So you’re on foal-sitting duty?”

Starlight squirmed at the word foal, at which point Sunset received the wonderful image of Starlight ‘I once tried to ban all children’ Glimmer covered head-to-hoof in little ponies. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I’m more of a castle-sitter who checks in with Spike on the side. He’s totally capable of handling himself.” She glanced at Twilight. “But, I’ll take care of everything here, I promise.”

Twilight smiled. “I know you will.”

“And I’ll help,” said an obnoxious voice from the doorway. Voice and smugness aside, Trixie’s trademark cap and cape were recognizable in any dimension. Her wink was pretty familiar, too. “Well, only if you don’t mind me staying here while you’re gone, Princess.”

“Of course I don’t mind.” After a face Sunset could only describe as priceless, Twilight gave her student a look. “You know, traditionally, you’re supposed to wait until after I’ve left town to invite friends over.”

Starlight tittered. “Getting ahead on my homework?”

“Right.” As Twilight watched Trixie waltz on over, she tried not to arc her back like a cat. “I’m glad you’ll be here for Starlight when I’m away.” If Sunset knew Twilight as well as she thought she did, Twilight was thinking about how that technically wasn’t a lie.

Trixie nodded, but somewhere along the way, her steps slowed enough to raise Twilight's eyebrow. In fact, Trixie took her hat off to fiddle with the brim, and Starlight had to poke her side and share some unspoken exchange before she could go on. “…You two will make sure the Princess is okay, won’t you?”

Any remaining annoyance in Twilight’s expression fell. “Starlight, you weren’t supposed to tell anypony. If the public finds out, there could be a panic.”

“I know, but Trixie went to Celestia’s School, too. She deserves to know, and she won’t tell anypony else.”

Trixie nodded beside her. “If she really is sick, could you tell her…” She reached into that hat of hers and pulled out a bouquet of flowers. “Give her these for me? She’ll know what it means.”

Twilight took the flowers in her magic and held them close to her chest. “Absolutely. Of course. We’ll give them to her as soon as we arrive.”

Sunset didn't have to be the Princess of Friendship to interpret what message Trixie was sending with that look.

“Good, good…” Starlight’s eyes darted away, rubbing her forehoof. “And, Sunset? Keep Twilight in check for me?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Starlight. Sure thing.”

Twilight sighed. “Well, we should probably get going now.”

Sunset and Twilight held each other’s gazes. Every rogue heart palpitation, every question, every spiraling anxiety—Twilight mirrored all of it back. We won't be alone, she thought. No matter what. She brought the journal in her magical grasp to her chest. She definitely wouldn’t be alone. Even if her hooves wanted to collapse under her.

“Probably.” Sunset managed to give her a nod, and just like that, Twilight’s horn powered up. Starlight and Trixie waved them off as they vanished into thin air.

The corridors of Canterlot castle materialized around them. A flash of light later, their bodies displaced a wave of air. Dusk draped over the marble halls as torches burned with the help of Eternal Flame, a luminous spell the guards used to save on the cost of candles.

The never-ending carpets, the historical paintings between the columns, and the unreachable arched ceilings struck a chord in Sunset; she had a lot of dreams about this place. Her most common dream consisted of her getting lost in its twists and turns, chasing after some nonsensical goal her mind tricked her into believing mattered. Other times? Her unstoppable magic cracked the marble down to its foundations, right to the mountain’s base, but only after setting the palace aflame. Every time she watched, cackling, as all of Canterlot came crumbling down around her, burning to cinders and ash.

Even when she was awake, she thought about coming back often. What she’d do, how it would feel. None of it compared to actually being here. It still smelled like gorgeous, glamorous perfume. The halls shined the same beneath her hooves. She even missed the comforting presence of guards on patrol. No matter how many years went by, it still felt powerful and grand, but also, more importantly, like home.

Together, Sunset and Twilight stood outside the door carved with the symbol of a sun, marking Celestia’s private chambers. Two batpony guards flanked the door, mare and stallion. The mare nodded to Twilight. “Good evening, Princess.”

“The same to you, Night Breeze.” The silence compelled Twilight to lower her voice, and Sunset couldn’t blame her. “Is the princess—”

The impossibly thick oak door swung open with the tingle of magic. Princess Luna emerged from inside. It was times like this Sunset never really had to wonder why ponies used to be unsettled by her, peering out like that. Luna came forward, the shadows revealing her powerful body and silver crown, and the guards stepped aside. “Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer. I wish it was a happier occasion, but my sister will be glad you came.”

Twilight nodded but left it at that.

Motioning for them to follow, Luna disappeared back into the room. When Twilight hesitated, Sunset took the lead and let her friend hide behind her.

Once inside, Sunset didn’t want to breathe. There was a lump in the bed. A golden crown and jewel-encrusted breastplate rested on the night table, glistening. Princess Cadance waited at the bedside, holding a hoof from the blankets and beckoning them over.

Luna stood at distance, stopping by the fireplace. The lighting only worked to make her look more like a shadow.

“Princess?” Sunset heard herself ask. She sounded hollow, and her voice hung in the air.

She hesitated and looked back to Twilight, who held a hoof to her mouth. Twilight couldn't move further, and that made it easier for Sunset to take the first steps for her. As Sunset came closer, Cadance backed up and offered the white hoof she was holding. Sunset took it, with Twilight coming in behind her.

Celestia didn’t look like herself. It just wasn’t that she was pale, it was that she looked like was was wearing a wet, clay mask and that she smelled like a hospital. Deep bags hung under her eyes. To make it worse, Sunset had never held her hoof when she wasn’t wearing her slippers. She could feel a trembling in her ex-mentor’s bones. Then, Celestia unfurled a smile, and it was like Sunset’s heart had been sliced down the middle. Celestia’s voice never sounded so forceless or flimsy as it did when she said, “Hello, my little ponies.”

Sunset couldn’t move. It felt as if a black hole emerged in her stomach, threatening to collapse her whole world. “… Hi,” she said, her throat closing off like a faucet.

Twilight managed to break herself free of what seemed like a freeze spell she’d been put under. Her eyes shined in the firelight, and her tiny voice crashed against Sunset’s ears as Twilight remembered the flowers. “… Trixie Lulamoon sends her best.”

Celestia reached out with her other hoof. Not her magic. She hummed. “What beautiful flowers. She remembered my favourites.”

Sunset’s voice landed in the dark end of her range. “You can’t use your magic, can you?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said, placing the flowers on her bedside. “Good thing I still have hooves, hm?”

Twilight let out a small gasp. “Princess… how did this happen? How is this possible? Did you give up your magic? Is it some kind of spell?”

Cadance’s downtrodden voice cut in from a ways behind them. “We don’t know why this is happening. She came down with it a week ago, and she’s only gotten worse since.”

“I can answer for myself, Cadance,” Celestia said, a smirk hidden in the depths of her voice. “We don’t know why this is happening.”

Sunset wanted to smile, too, but she couldn’t get control of herself long enough to fake it. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Happy that you both would come all this way.” The way she said that, Sunset suspected the real answer was something scary she didn’t want her or Twilight to have to hear. She shut her eyes, but kept as much of a smile as she could without it looking forced. “And, admittedly, very, very tired.”

Sunset’s eyes burned. She knew what Celestia meant, but seeing this version of her mentor say that blindsided her. And the fact that she didn’t want to cry made it impossible not to. “What’s wrong with you? What is it? A plague?”

“We do not know.” Luna’s cool voice cascaded over them while she watched the fire eat at the timber. “We’ve brought in Equestria's top physicians, but they haven’t found a single diagnosis.”

“How long ago did you ask them?” Sunset could hear Twilight crying beside her, and it occurred to her that she must’ve started after she did. “Maybe if they have more time, they could find a solution.”

“I fear their efforts are not amounting to anything. Some have already given up.”

Sunset’s face twisted into a grimace. She was always a proponent of ripping the band-aid off fast, but it didn’t mean she had to like the pony who did the ripping, especially when it wasn’t her. “Then I’ll figure it out,” she said, her voice quaking. Her stomach clenched. I can’t figure it out. Why would I say that? I’m not a doctor. She clamped her teeth down.

Sunset recognized the look on Celestia’s face, the one where she tried to hide her disappointment. After all these years, and even after she came back and apologized, there was still a part of Sunset that hadn’t changed, and Celestia knew it. She could see her student for what she was. “Sunset…”

It only made it worse that the sound of her voice, or more accurately the sound of her mentor being right, made a part of her angry. It was like she was a teenager again. I really haven’t changed. She dried her burning cheeks, and turned toward Twilight. “I’m not a doctor. But thanks to you, Twilight and I are some of the best researchers in Equestria. We can figure out what’s going on if we work together, right Twilight?”

Twilight’s resolve finally had something to settle on. “We’ll do our absolute best.”

“We’ll do more than that,” Sunset said, pinning her forehead between her brows. She could still feel Celestia’s hoof shaking in hers and that managed to direct the fire inside elsewhere. “We’ll find a cure. I promise.”

Regarding Sunset, the princess kept masking her disappointment, but at least she got better at it if that smile was anything to go by. “That means you’ll be staying for dinner?”

“Dinner?” Twilight asked, in that cross between deadpan and complete bafflement she had.

Celestia sat up in her bed with only a bit of extra effort. Twilight’s magic supported her, whether she needed it or not. “It’s not every day I get to share a meal with all of you at once. I would say it’s a special occasion. And all of you know how we celebrate special occasions here.”

Both Twilight and Sunset’s ears pricked up, both grateful to be able to smile again. Twilight wagered a guess: “With a five-course feast prepared by the best chefs in the country?”

Celestia smirked, and took the opportunity to wrap her wings around Twilight and Sunset and turn them into her crutches. “Ah. So it hasn’t been as long as I thought. You still remember.”

“Are you sure you can manage?” Cadance came over, ready to support her aunt. “You should be resting.”

“Yes, it’s certainly on my agenda. But I also should be spending time with my students, and I for one think that is a higher priority, don’t you?”

Chapter 3 - Moonshine in the Observatory

Sunset cursed. It was well, well past midday in the Royal Canterlot Archives. The overlarge hourglass in the center glistened with the low light coming in from above, the sand pile on the bottom larger than she thought it had any right to be. When did that happen?

As a career student, Sunset should’ve been used to looking up from a book only to discover that her whole day apparently made a break for it when she wasn’t looking. It wasn’t her favourite way to spend a day, but she’d definitely lost more time than she’d care to think about that way. Twilight, her Twilight, once told her she liked it. Said it was satisfying. As cute as Sunset found it when she said it, she couldn’t quite agree. Every time it happened to her, it stressed her out. She hated time flying by like that, especially if she was only researching instead of actually solving a problem.

Maybe it was a side-effect of being an ex-megalomaniac. She’d bided so much time, wasting it reminded her that she wasn’t any closer to where she wanted to be. Or worse, that she was a day closer to dying without reaching her goals. She wasn’t trying to usurp the monarchy anymore, per se, but now she was doing something even more important. She needed time on her side.

They’d been working almost non-stop since dinner. They even slept at the library and picked up right where the left off in the morning. So far: a frustrating amount of nothing.

Groaning, Sunset squashed her scowl into her hooves. “Anything?”

Across the table by the window, Twilight flinched out of her book-induced coma, then frowned. “Not really, no.” She pushed aside the thick medical book in front of her. “Nothing really matches in Babbling Brook’s Degenerative Diseases. Although, that’s probably a good thing.”

Sunset seriously didn’t know what compelled so many Equestrian scholars to use so much alliteration. It didn’t make sense to Sunset Shimmer. Going through the medicinal section of the library from top to bottom really highlighted that to her. From the Almanac of All Known Cure-alls to the Curious Curse Compendium all the way to The Surprising-Sized Spoon Spellbook. Most of them were useless, but kinda chuckle-worthy after a pattern started to form.

“Well, Perplexing Pony Plagues hasn’t been all that helpful, either. None of her symptoms seem to connect to anything.” Sunset kicked it, then noticed Twilight’s look. “What?”

Twilight took the book in her magic, smiling at the cover like it was an old friend. “I used to have a copy of this book. I read it when Applejack’s little sister came down with the cutie pox.” Her smile dropped a little. “I haven’t read it since. I don’t have it anymore.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Oh, did you lose it?”

“No. Well, yes, in a sense.” Twilight tapped her hooves together. “When I first moved to Ponyville, I wasn’t living in a castle. Spike and I used to live in the library there. I’ve told you about Tirek, haven’t I?” Sunset nodded. “Before he and I fought, he sort of burned it down. In a big, fiery explosion. With me inside.”

“… You lost your home?” Sunset froze, watching Twilight nod and squirm a bit. A breath escaped her lips, along with another curse. “Twilight, I’m so sorry. You never told me. That’s horrible.”

Twilight focused herself on her passionflower tea, which by now was running low. “It was, but it was a while ago. I’ve moved on now, thanks to my friends.” She put on a smile and straightened in her pillow-seat. That only made Sunset feel worse. She’s just like the other Twilight. Both of them are way too considerate for their own good.

From experience, she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere by pushing her. “I know it’s not the same, but maybe you could borrow this copy, if you miss it.” Sunset made a move towards Twilight’s library card, then stopped. She took it in her magic and cracked a smile. “Dear Celestia.”

The photo I.D. made Sunset want to feign a heart attack if she didn’t have the real one first. Twilight hadn’t updated the picture in a long time, so beside her name there was this tweenage unicorn with glasses, braces, and a pony-tail. Sunset realized she’d never seen Twilight as a unicorn before, and while that was definitely surreal, it was far less important than the fact that she might’ve been one of the cutest things on this or any other planet. It almost warranted scientific study.

Twilight blushed and smacked her forehead. “Oh, right.”

Sunset wore a huge grin and turned it around for her to see. “Twilight, you can’t be that cute. You shouldn’t be allowed.”

“Yes, well…” Twilight tittered. “My sense of style definitely improved when Rarity came into my life.”

Sunset chuckled. She took her own card out of her jacket’s breast pocket. She’d been surprised to find it last night in her old tower, along with the fact that Celestia kept all of her old things for all that time. Her card still had the same smug teen daring the photographer to take the picture.

Presently, she held it up in her magic right next to Twilight’s and smiled. “What do you think? Would they be friends?”

Twilight’s grin broke open, and she dug her chin into her hoof. “Friends, or worst enemies.” She tried for a dark expression but her smile ruined it, and the two of them started laughing soon after. “I don’t think either of us would’ve made a very good friend at that age, anyway.”

Sunset snorted. “No kidding. Would’ve been nice, though.” She put the cards back on the table between them and their stacks of books. She rested her chin on the back of her hooves, like a shelf. “Could’ve made those long, lonely nights studying a little less lonely. Exam season could’ve been nicer.”

“That was always my favourite time of year,” Twilight admitted.

Sunset sighed dreamily. “Yeah, mine, too. Would’ve been great to enjoy it with somepony else. Or, just, you know, talk to somepony who’s taking the same exams for a change.”

“Totally,” she said. “Or, to somepony who’s taking as many courses as you are.”

Sunset sat back, eyes hitting the skylight. “Or, somepony who got as many burn-out migraines trying to keep up with all the spells they had to learn.”

Twilight nodded, albeit slowly. “Or, somepony who was just as scared to drop below a ninety-five percentile because they didn’t want to let down the princess—or, embarrass her.”

Sunset's mouth opened, and they looked at each other. Neither of them could help the bittersweet smile on their faces. “Yeah. That would’ve been really, really nice.” They held each other’s gazes for a moment, then Sunset’s eyes dropped back to the students on the table. “You know we’re the only ponies alive who know what it’s like to be Princess Celestia’s protégé?”

Twilight’s eyebrows rose. “You’re right.”

“If only we’d been her students at the same time. When you think about it, that would’ve solved all of our problems. I wouldn’t be a self-important egomaniac, you wouldn’t be a cynical loner. We both would’ve learned about friendship. Everypony wins.”

Twilight smiled ruefully. “But then we never would have met our friends.”

“Then we never would have met our friends,” Sunset agreed. Or my girlfriend. Rainbow Dash would laugh if she knew she was missing Twilight already. Sunset probably should have laughed, too, it had barely been a day since she last saw her. But being in different dimensions for this long, the infinite distance between them felt increasing like light years, especially as the afternoon wore on. She shook her head. “I guess it all worked out in the end. And, it wasn’t so bad being Celestia’s only prized student.” She had a thought and smiled. “Hey, did you ever have lessons by the fireplace in her room when you were little?”

“All the time! Those were the best! Gosh, that’s where I learned how to teleport. Well, there and about thirty different places around the castle.”

Sunset giggled, picturing it. “At least you stayed inside the castle! Celestia had to buy me a train ticket back from Philly when I tried my hoof at it the first time. I somehow couldn’t quite get a handle on teleporting back.”

“Oh, wow.” Twilight tried to keep a giggle from escaping. “You were so talented, being able to teleport that far…”

Sunset rolled her eyes. “Talented and dimwitted. If I’d just waited for her to finish the lesson, I would’ve been fine.”

Twilight snickered.“No, no, y-you were excited. In your defense, teleportation is a very exciting spell to learn when you’re five.”

“Six,” Sunset muttered. “And anyway, my point wasn’t whether I followed them to the letter or not. I loved having lessons in there.”

“Mm-hm.” A sip from her tea helped Twilight get her laughter under control. She smiled. “I think her hearth has to be my favourite place in the castle.”

Sunset nodded. “Mine’s the observatory.”

Twilight blinked at her.

Sunset frowned. “You know, the old, abandoned observatory.”

Twilight stared at her. “The castle has an observatory?”

“Right there. That tower. See it? They haven’t turned it into anything have they?” Sunset pointed out the window. Sure enough, waiting across the way was a bulbous tower with a telescope and a glass rooftop.

Twilight frowned. “That tower? That’s been closed off since I before I was a student here.”

“Yeah.” They stared at each other. “Wait, you’re telling me you’ve never snuck up there even once? It's forbidden. How could you not be curious about it?”

Twilight shrugged, making a face.

A sinister smile unraveled on Sunset’s face. “Then have I got something to show you.”

Contrary to her name, the cover of night suited Sunset best. It did not suit Twilight, however. She flinched at every passing shadow no matter how small. Stalking through the halls lead them straight past several guards, but if they had any questions about what they were doing out so late, Twilight’s Princesshood gave them a pass. It kinda paid to be with the Princess of Friendship.

It occurred to Sunset that none of the guards would even recognize her at this point, or very few. Used to be she could get away with getting up to no good on her own merits. Being Celestia’s personal student was her Get Out of Jail Free card, one or two times literally. It was really a shame she didn’t have that anymore. It might've come in handy that night if things went right.

Sunset lead the way across the outdoor walkway to the tower entrance, glad she brought her jacket for the cool night air. Well, that and one other reason.

Twilight relaxed a little now that there were no more guards around, but she was definitely still a little jumpy. She looked around like she expected punishment to fly in from the sky. Sunset smirked and made a show of looking around before she picked the lock. Then, she stopped partway through.

Twilight came to her shoulder and whispered, “What? What is it?”

“You learned the lock-picking spell. You must’ve. It was in one of the exams.” Sunset’s eyelids fell, and she leaned toward her. “You never used it once, did you?”

“Not all of us were rule-breakers like you, Sunset.”

She undid the lock and floated it over to into Twilight’s hoof. “Well, look how you’ve grown.”

Sunset opened the door, which swung inwards so that even though it was technically boarded up, there was still a way in if they stepped over the ones at the bottom. Meanwhile, the door creaked like a sound effect for a haunted house. Just the same as she remembered. She made a grand gesture inwards, like a servant would to invite their master to enter before them. Twilight rolled her eyes over and ducked into the dark. Sunset followed suit.

They both illuminated their horns even if all it gave them a better look at was a dim set of stairs at the other end of the room through a stream of dust motes. Sunset lead the way up the winding staircase. Towers like these always reminded her of a lighthouse, twisting around and around to get to the light up top. It took a lot of climbing up stone stairs, the dark brickwork seeming to go on forever, until it finally lead somewhere. Sunset stepped aside and swung a hoof outward. “Welcome to Princess Luna’s old observatory.”

Above, the enormous domed roof let the light of the moon and stars beam in, illuminating the carpet with Princess Luna’s cutie mark. The night sky was theirs to behold. They could see every shooting star, every passing cloud. The infinite expanse of space Luna controlled from millions of miles away floated above, framed by the bulbous skylight. By now, more than a few panels of glass had cracked or went otherwise missing, so cool night air flowed in freely, which only made them feel closer to the stars.

The humongous telescope that hadn’t been used in decades waited ahead, poking out of the skylight. All around, the walls were lined with book shelves. Sunset hadn’t read all of them, but she’d gotten her hooves into a few over the years, and each tome was more obscure than the last.

Ahead, the whole city of Canterlot spread out before them. The rail-free balcony gave an immaculate view of a lantern-lit mountain city tucking itself in for the night.

Twilight took a few entranced steps inside. A small, barely audible gasp slipped out of her with her neck tilted up to the sky. “Wow,” she breathed. “Sunset… this is beautiful.”

Sunset nodded, leaning against the door. Pushing off, she came over next to Twilight, smirking. “See what you’ve been missing out on?”

Twilight scrunched her snout and swatted her shoulder.

Settling back down, Sunset smiled in earnest. “It is something special. I used to come here a lot, whenever I wanted to be alone—or when I was mad at Princess Celestia and wanted her to worry about where I’d gone.” Sunset paused. “I wasn’t… the best pony.”

“Well, look how you’ve grown,” Twilight said. “Maybe this place used to mean something different, but that’s in the past now.”

Sunset wore a light frown, eyes stuck skyward on the moon. She spoke quieter than before. “… There’s another reason why this place was so special to me.”

Twilight waited, patiently.

“When I first became Princess Celestia’s student, the palace was so completely mind-boggling to me. I’d never seen anything so big, and everypony here treated me like it all was built just for me. I was young, I guess that’s just how you treat a filly, but it made me feel special. But, you know, I always knew all of it was really for Princess Celestia.

“She was just the most spectacular, most powerful pony in all of Equestria. I mean, who else could raise the sun every morning? Well… you know. She was amazing.” Sunset shook her head. “Studying under her was one thing, but… then I discovered this place, and suddenly all those old pony tales about another alicorn existing a thousand years ago were all true. The idea that there could even be another alicorn like Celestia,” she said, and laughed, “that was insane.”

Twilight was still. “And that inspired you.”

“How could it not? Look at this place. You can’t tell me if you were seven years old and you thought all this”—she motioned towards Canterlot—“could be yours someday, you wouldn’t ever dream about it.” Sunset nodded, staring out into the moonlit cityscape. “A lot of good it did me, thinking like that, but I thought maybe if I worked hard enough, did what I had to, I could rule alongside her, too. And this could be my room.”

Apparently, she hadn’t let that dream go. Being back at the observatory with Twilight, she’d kinda hoped it wouldn’t feel the same as it used to. But it didn’t. None of it did. How close was she to that seven-year-old filly? Or that fifteen year old mare who destroyed the only good relationship in her life over a crown?

There was a quiet moment between them before Twilight spoke up again. When she did, she placed a hoof on Sunset’s back. “I’ve never heard that side of the story.”

Sunset shrugged, moving towards the bookcase. “It’s not much different than the version you heard. I got too wrapped up in it too fast, went down a dark path getting over-ambitious.”

“If it’s any consolation, you’re not missing out on much. Being a princess is so much more stressful than she makes it look. Or, maybe I’m just—” Twilight frowned. “Sunset?”

“Yeah?” She browsed the titles on the shelves.

“You said this was Luna’s observatory?”

Sunset took a book down in her magic and cracked it open, dust spilling out, and she parsed through the pages. “Uh, yeah, before she became Nightmare Moon. I guess this place had too many memories for her to want to live here again. I can definitely understand that.”

Twilight shook her head, walking towards her. “Luna never lived in Canterlot Castle before she became Nightmare Moon. I don’t think Canterlot even existed. Celestia and Luna had their own castle in the Everfree forest, the Castle of the Two Sisters. My friends and I renovated it for them.”

Sunset turned to look at her. “Twilight, how does that make any sense? That’s her cutie mark, isn’t it?”

The moon and dark splotches on the carpet were big, but not too big to be able to see the big picture. They’d had dinner with Luna the night before, it was pretty unmistakably hers. If that wasn’t enough, the carpet itself was approximately the same deep blue as her coat, if not a little washed out from sun exposure.

“I don’t know why that’s there, but this wasn’t her room. I’ve seen her room. I saw when she was banished to the moon, and it wasn’t in Canterlot.”

“... Huh.” Sunset’s eyes slid down to the book she was carrying and stopped on a new page. She smiled. “Then, explain this.”

Twilight prodded over and took the book in her magic. When she read the heading, her eyes bloomed. “Does that say… Alicorn Histories?”

“Yep,” Sunset said, hooves crossed. The way Twilight pounced on it like a little filly made Sunset crack a smile. “The Equestrian’s a little archaic, but it’s pretty unmistakable if you ask me.”

Then Twilight punched her in the shoulder.

“Ow! What? What’d I say?”

“You knew a secret library of forgotten books existed with long lost knowledge, possibly thousands of years old, and you didn’t tell anypony? Sunset, this whole collection is a relic worth putting up in a museum! I shouldn’t even be touching this without gloves!”

“If I told anypony, I’d lose my secret hiding place.” Her ears laid low, like she wished she could do. “… That was pretty selfish of me, huh?”

Twilight’s anger waned seeing her expression. “So, you’ve never shared this with anypony else?”

“Not a soul. And the first pony I did punched me, so I guess there was a good reason.”

The smile on Twilight’s face made Sunset want to smile back, even if she didn’t know what they were smiling about. “Well, at least now we have something we know those doctors didn’t.” She held up the cover of one of the books: Alicorn Ailments. Again with the alliteration, Sunset thought. Crap. Now I’m doing it.

They beamed at each other. Sunset almost had to laugh. This place had been just hers for so long, she really hadn’t given it a second thought. But, there was nopony on Earth she’d rather share it with. Or at least, on this Earth. But, all things considered, she'd gotten a decently close replacement in the meantime. She wondered if it would just be déjà vu bringing the human Twilight here. At least she could make the same jokes.

“Well, a lead that good calls for some serious celebration.” Sunset nodded over towards the balcony and made her eyebrows hop.

“Let’s,” Twilight said.

They walked out into the night. Sunset took a seat with her hooves dangling off the balcony. Twilight sat down far from the edge at first and then scooted a bit so she was just as daring. Sunset made a mental note that Twilight had wings but kept it to herself. She didn’t particularly care to wipe that look from her best friend’s face. “I really don’t blame you for wanting this all to yourself, you know. It’s so peaceful, so beautiful, so—oh my gosh that’s alcohol. You’ve got alcohol, okay.”

Sunset’s grin gleamed in the moonlight, pulling a beer out from her jacket. “You didn’t think I’d bulked up overnight, did you?”

“I hadn’t really noticed,” she said, voice tilting up before she made a face when Sunset pulled out the second bottle. “You’re a little too good at sneaking that stuff around.”

Sunset threw her head back at that one, mostly because she had a whole pack. “I promise, I haven’t done it in years. Good to know I’ve still got the touch, though.” She popped the top of the first and offered it to Twilight. “This round’s on me if you want it. Best brew in Canterlot, guaranteed.”

“I know peer pressure when I see it, Sunset Shimmer, and it looks exactly like you in a leather jacket offering me a beer.”

Sunset shrugged. “Not a problem. More for me. I’ll drive you to drink yet.”

Twilight giggle-snorted. “Well, you have your work cut out for you. I’m not much of a drinker. I’ll have a drink or two with the girls, but nothing major. The only time I was ever really into it was when I tried to be a wine drinker to be more ‘cultured'.” Her hooves did little air-quotes before she leaned toward her with her hoof cupped around her mouth. "That's teenage Twilight for pretentious."

Sunset took a sip. “Were you any good at it? Holding a drink, I mean. I might need to know, you know, if the other Twilight ever decides to get a little more cultured.”

“All I ever got were headaches,” she said, chuckling, then raised an eyebrow. Beside her, Sunset downed over half the bottle in one go. “Looks like you want an example. Should I be worried?”

Sunset finished her not-so-dainty sip and sniffed. “Nah, no, no. I’ll be fine, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Something shifted when she said that, in a way Sunset didn’t really care for. “You can have a drink if you want, of course, but I know the news was pretty hard to hear, and seeing her like that…”

Sunset bristled but tried not to let the thorns hurt anypony but her. “I get the concern. I’m okay. But, I know what you mean,” she said through a pent-up breath finally escaping. Her forehead wrinkled, and she looking up. “I never thought she’d get like that. Not her.” She looked down the neck of her beer, then at Twilight. “It still doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she said, looking down at her hooves. “But it’s at least nice to have a friend who gets how much it doesn’t. Even if it we didn’t get to grow up together, it kinda feels like we did.”

There was nothing in the world Sunset felt like she couldn’t say. A whole city lay at their hooves. She had a cold beer and her magic back, but none of it made her feel more free than being with Twilight. She really was her best friend, wasn’t she? Sunset bit her lip. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I just haven’t had the time. I’ve got a special somepony. In the other world. So, a special someone, I guess.”

Twilight’s eyes lit up and Sunset knew she’d made the right call. “I knew it! I mean, it was Rarity who sort of implied it, but details. Who is it?”

Sunset wasn’t surprised to feel her cheeks get toastier. “I’ll, uh, tell you later. You know, when things aren’t so… complicated.” She played with the label on her beer. “She’s really something special.”

“Special, huh?” Sunset quickly regretted ever teasing any world’s Twilight over a crush. Twilight feigned a gasp. “Did you hear that? I think… I think I hear wedding bells. Yeah, not so far off!”

And that’s how toasty became broiling. Where did that cold night air go? “It may or may not be out of the realm of possibility. Someday,” she added. Those eyebrows would be the death of her. “Okay. For your information, I could actually maybe see a future with this girl, but that’s when it’s going to happen. In the future.”

“Well, before that future comes, I’d be honoured to meet her in a more uncomplicated situation. If our lives could even be uncomplicated at this point.”

Sunset laughed, and Twilight joined in. It was kinda weird, talking to Twilight about Twilight. It only made her laugh harder. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll try to fit it in before the next doomsday. Guess that doesn’t give me a lot time, though, huh?”

Twilight shook her head. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. What kind of moonshine did you say it was?”

Sunset smiled wider as the bottle sizzled open. She raised her nearly empty brew and slung a hoof around Twilight's neck. “I have much to teach you…”

Sometime after she'd gotten Twilight to bed, the lock clicked and clattered as Sunset fumbled with it. It took a bit of jimmying with the rust and whatnot, but a proper shove got the job done with a bit of fuss on the door’s part. Yawning, she set the candles on fire around the open-concept room, pretty sure she’d just blow them out in a minute or two.

It wasn’t the first time she stumbled into her old apartment, and it wouldn’t be the last. If she could help it, anyway. Unlike the observatory, her old room had been used for something since she’d been gone, but mostly it was just to store boxes of test answers, those could be shoved aside. Her apartment back home made this place look like the lobby to a five-star, all-inclusive hotel.

That’s sort of what it felt like at this point. She was just checking in for the night, and in the morning she’d be gone again, just like that, a stranger in the night. Every now and then, she’d find something to get sentimental over, but on the whole, this room wasn’t her home anymore. She’d moved on, and in a way that was comforting.

Then she gasped and squealed like a filly going to Whinnyland, and every bit of self-restraint she had went the way of her self-respect. “Philomena!”

Sunset thundered up the last few steps to the platform she considered her bedroom and basically attacked the golden cage on the bedside table. The hatch just about broke off its hinges. The phoenix glowing inside flared until the cage looked like it was about to melt. The bird trilled as it swooped out onto Sunset’s waiting hoof.

Laughing and cooing in her golden light, the two of them butted heads before Philomena starting giving her love bites, singeing little curls of Sunset’s mane and more than anything, nuzzling her cheek. The leather from her jacket saved her hooves and only made things toastier.

The tears brimming at the sides of her eyes weren’t entirely pain-related. “Aw, I missed you so, so much, girl! Yes, I did. Yeah. You missed me, too, huh?” No one, human or pony, was allowed to hear her baby-talk voice except Philomena. Sunset’s cheek was definitely burning now, as Philomena purred into it. Sunset tried to keep from seething through her teeth. The beers made it easier, but not by much. “There’s a good girl.”

She frowned, then pulled her head back. “But what are you doing here?”

Aside from Philomena’s light, the room was dark and not very well kept. Dust had overtaken everything. Even if she’d left the place relatively clean, the boxes made it look like a storage closet, if not a fire hazard. Even her giant golden orrery in the center of the lower level, still keeping the planets aligned, was coated with dust and corrosion, like an old trophy. The place just wasn’t as cozy as it used to be. Even the warm colours lost the battle with the night a long time ago—or a few hours ago. She was drunk.

And she couldn’t wrap her drunk, cotton-filled head around that or anything until her eyes snagged on a charred scroll on her bedside. She took it in her magic and read:

She wouldn’t leave your side. Every time I took her out, she came right back here.

- Celestia

The parchment crinkled when it lowered. Now the proportion of pain to the other thing was a little different. “Philomena, I’m so, so sorry. You waited all this time?” She let out a breath. “If I’d of known, I would’ve come back for you.” She pressed her forehead into Philomena’s, even if it burned. A laugh leaked out of her. “I don’t know what the portal would’ve turned you into, but we could’ve had fun together.”

Sunset opened her eyes and stared at her bird, wincing. “… Can you forgive me?”

Philomena made a big show of turning her snout up, like the Bridleway star she was born to be, but soon after she poked Sunset with more pointy, burny kisses, purring once again.

“Thank you,” she said through a sigh. She let her hoof down so Philomena would perch on her back, like old times. That warmth, like a hot stone massage on her back, it did the body good. Her burn scars tended to disagree, but so long as Philomena was perched and not waving her wings around or pecking at her too much, it made her breathe easier. Sunset’s expression exploded. “Maybe I should bring you through the portal! You could come live with me, meet all my friends and my girlfriend Twilight. Uh, marefriend,” she said, as if the bird would need the clarification. “Don’t worry, she’s nice. She’s well-spoken, well-read, and a total knock-out. Plus, she likes birds. I made sure. She even has a lab owl, Owlicious. You two would really hit it off.”

Philomena bent her neck and Sunset raised an eyebrow. “What is it? Oh, I guess it’s a little surprising I’m dating anybody—”

Philomena shook her head, and jabbed her beak into her neck.

“Not it? Then what? Not an owl fan?” Another few stabs, prompting another stab at it from her. “Twilight? She… you recognize that name?”

Philomena spread her wings, trilling victoriously.

“Oh. You’ve already met her. I guess that makes sense in hindsight. But the Twilight I’m talking about is a little different.” Sunset guided her over to the end of her bed, where Philomena had charred the wood from the years of waiting there. Sunset slid off her jacket and pulled the journal from inside. “See this? This is magic. It lets me write to her, and no matter how far away she is, she can see it instantly and write me back.”

Philomena cooed, as if whistling.

Sunset blushed. “Quiet, you. I don’t use it for that.” When the bird doubted her, Sunset blushed harder. “I don’t! Look, this journal belongs to Princess Twilight, the one you met. But, this Twilight,” she said, grin unbeatable, “is my girlfriend. And, um. Well, Princess Twilight doesn’t exactly know my Twilight is, y’know, my Twilight, if that makes sense.”

Philomena hopped left.

“Alright, smart-mouth, so it’s not my best plan, but it won’t be this way forever. Princess Twilight’s my best friend in the whole multiverse, aside from my Twilight. I know it’s going to be weird for her, might even be weird for me, but I know it’s going to work out. The other her said so herself. Plus, she’s the Princess of Friendship. If anypony can handle a friendship problem like this, it’s her. You’ll see.”

Sunset hugged a pillow and spread out across her old silken sheets, still only the best. Imported, if she remembered right, from Minos, the Minotaur empire. Ponies could make all the generalizations they wanted about minotaurs being brutes, but when fiction came to fact, one thing was unmistakably true: they made the softest blankets in any kingdom out there.

Even still, it was not a real substitute for her girlfriend. The alcohol and distractions helped, but every now and then she’d forget to stop herself from thinking about Celestia. Up in that tower, right now, suffering and veiling it so thinly a light breeze could shake her to her core. Sunset felt so powerless. All she wanted to do was go home and be held, and instead, all she had was a book and a pillow.

She took out her quill. It was absurdly late. She’d be waking Twilight up. It was enough to make her pause, but the watchful eyes of her phoenix made her press on. If Philomena didn’t get to see this supposed magic book in action, Sunset would never hear the end of it.

Sunset took out a quill from her old stationary across the way, and wrote:

Hey. Sorry it’s so late. I meant to message you yesterday, I

Hey, Twilight wrote back. It’s okay. Are you?

Sunset had to stop. The answer was obvious, but the part that came next was a little harder to swallow.

Not so much. It’s hard. Miss you. She filled her in on everything up until that point, and did her best not to skirt around the hard details. She probably needed to address those. I’m also drunk right now, so some of that will make more sense now.

How drunk?

Coming back down to tipsy. Meant it to stop with the six-pack, but we raided the castle fridge after that. You’re a fun drunk, by the way.

Useful information. Glad you had a good time when you could. There was a big pause before the next burst of text flew in. How’s Princess Twilight?

Passed out by now, I imagine, but other than that, not any better off than I am.

Another big pause. To be fair, sometimes it took a moment. They’d get distracted or have to wait to see if the other person was done. Sunset had only had instant-messaging in her life for so long, she could understand a few extra seconds. Twilight did eventually find what she was going to say, though, and it turned out to be, Should I come to Equestria? I’ve been wishing I’d insisted on coming all day today. I’m really worried about you, and I just want to be there for you.

Sunset smiled, and held the book out for Philomena. “What’d I tell you? She loves me. And she likes birds.”

She got a crow of approval for that, now that the bird had read the cursive writing from another dimension.

As much as she just really wanted to hear her girlfriend’s voice right now, Sunset wrote back, Thanks, Twilight. It’s okay. I’ll be okay. A part of me wants to let you come, but that part of me could be the drunk part, and I’m not supposed to listen to her anymore. She gives me bad, fun ideas.

Oh, I know. I’ve seen you at the Christmas party, remember?

If I said no, would it surprise you?

Not in the slightest.

Well, hopefully I’ll remember this. You’re the highlight of my night. Sunset stopped then reconsidered: Actually, I should probably say you and seeing Philomena again (my pet phoenix). She’s right here, and if she reads this I’m screwed.

Phoenix? Is that why you have all those burn marks? All this time I thought you burned yourself. You should’ve told me!

Now it was Sunset’s turn to pause. I guess that must’ve been pretty alarming, huh?

They’re all over, of course it was alarming! Then Twilight backtracked. Not that I ever minded, I was just frightened you hurt yourself. With or without the scars, you’re gorgeous.

Sunset burst out snickering. Very smooth. You’re not too bad yourself, beautiful.

Are you sure you don’t want me there right now? Because I can’t show you how gorgeous I think you are through a book.

The flush on Sunset’s face made it clear: that was a lot closer to smooth. Her bird clearly wasn’t so sure about that smut thing from earlier.

Stop asking at exactly the right time and in exactly the right way. Sunset tried to keep that smile, and told her, Even if you’re not here, I’m really glad I have you to talk to.

Another pause. This one she couldn’t really wave away so easily, even if Twilight came back with Me, too.

Sunset slipped out a small sigh. What’s going on with you? All this time I haven’t asked my girlfriend how she’s doing. I sort of feel like there’s a rule against tha

Right now shouldn’t be about me. I can promise you I’m fine, and I’m sorry if anything I did made you worry anymore than you already are, but it’s not important. It’s like how you're not introducing me to Princess Celestia. There's just higher priorities. And right now, for once, that’s you. And, you can’t dissuade me of that, so don’t even try.

Somewhere along the way, Sunset must’ve looked distressed or something because Philomena hopped over from her little perch on the bedpost and waddled over onto her back. Sunset pressed her lips together. She really should’ve gone for that kiss back in the museum. Twilight had strong walls, but they could melt under the right pressure. If she’d just gotten to the problem before she reinforced them…

Around then, Twilight added, You’re too sweet for your own good.

I know a few ponies who’d disagree with you.

Exactly my point. You need to focus on your feelings for a change, not the rest of the world.

I was going to be the first pony on that list.

Even from an immeasurably long distance away, Sunset could tell Twilight was unimpressed. You know exactly what I meant, Sunset. This is a hard time for you, and I’m not there to do it, so please, take care of yourself for me.

The burning in her back let her know it was either time to start boiling some water there or that she should get Philomena off while she was still able to comb her coat over the burns. She winced.

Okay, she wrote, I love you.

At least there was no pause when Twilight wrote back I love you, too.

After a slightly later start the next morning, the library had all the fun sucked out of it. The headaches and grouchiness had worn off (mostly), but between the two of them, neither was ready for or experienced in ancient Equestrian. Most ponies barely considered it a language. Now they had to find a way to decode it.

“This is impossible, isn’t it?”

Sunset looked up with a pencil in her mouth.

Holding what was no doubt a headache on par with medieval torture, Twilight had a hoof acting as a support beam to keep her head from crashing down. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how we’re going to do this, Sunset. It’s too much to even know where to begin.”

Taking the pencil out of her mouth, Sunset reached across the table. “I know it’s hard, but Princess Celestia needs us to come through. If we send this away to be analyzed properly, it’ll take months, if not years. We have to try.”

“But try what? We’re not linguists, we’re not doctors or medical theorists. I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to stay positive with you because I think you’re right. We have to figure out a way. I just…” Some thought really did a number on her, and in a second Twilight was teary-eyed. “We can’t fail this time. We can’t let her down.”

Sunset clamped her jaw shut tight. If she started crying, which she most definitely could, it would take time away from working that they sorely needed. Logic like that didn’t make it easy. Instead, it was sort of like trying to replace a dam that had crumbled and cracked in catastrophic ways. She could shield it in with enough force, but it took every bit of strength she had in a time when she was really counting on that wall to be there.

She focused on squeezing Twilight’s hoof. “Well… doesn’t sound much different than usual to me.”

There was an insignificant pull at Twilight’s mouth. “It doesn’t, does it? Our lives are so weird,” she said, getting a laugh out of Sunset. She took a breath. “Okay. So, at the rate it’s taking us to translate all this, we’ll, um, run out the clock before we make any real strides towards a cure. We need a different approach.”

“You’re right. But what kind of approach?” Sunset shoved aside the histories and comparative texts that, if she was honest, stopped having any meaning at least an hour ago. Her brain, maybe on protest after last night’s binge brain-cell massacre, refused to connect meaning to symbols. “At this point, I’ve never been more ‘all ears’ in my life.”

Placing her books aside as well, Twilight held her chin. “Maybe something a little more theoretical? Whatever it is, it’s a magical illness, it should at least behave predictably.”

“You want to take this to the lab?”

“Not yet. We need some kind working theory.” Screwing up her face, Twilight tapped the books. “So far… our hypothesis is it’s an alicorn-specific illness, right? It doesn’t have to be, but let’s say it is. Why would Celestia come down with it now? There’s only five alicorns in existence, so it’s not a contagion. Or, isn’t one that we can prove, I should say, but the point is if it’s something in these books, it has to be ancient.”

The breathless quiet in the library stilted thought almost as much as the mutterings of a crowded venue would’ve. She set her jaw aside, thinking. “I don’t know. She’s supposed to be immortal. That’s what I don’t get. She should be protected against this kind of stuff.”

Twilight pointed. “You know, I actually think I’ve seen something like this. Discord once came down with a flu after pretending to come down with the flu. He still won’t tell me exactly how immortal he is or if he is at all, and I wouldn’t use him for any comparison sample, but it’s something.” Outside, the castle bells rang for noon, but that wasn’t what had Twilight pausing. “What?”

Sunset didn’t shiver so much as feel the temperature drop raise goosebumps beneath her coat. “Sorry, I forget that you're friends with him sometimes. I haven’t met him, so I guess I’m still used to hearing all those stories about what he could do to ponies when he was in power. I, uh. It’s stupid, and I’m sure he’s not like this now, but when I was really little, I saw his picture in a book somewhere with all those stories. Let’s just say it wasn’t flattering. I had nightmares for weeks. After that his statue always freaked me out.”

“Really? You should tell him whenever you two meet. He’ll really like that. I can summon him now if—”

“No, no,” she said, way too loud for the library not to blast it back at them. “I’m good. I just. I mean, some other time. If that’s okay.”

“No problem. One harrowing experience at a time is fine with me. Although, I might have to write him, then. He’s been around almost as long as Luna and Celestia. If Luna doesn’t recognize it, maybe he will.”

She sat back, pretending every set of eyes in the library wasn’t aimed squarely her way now. “Sure. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us how an ancient illness can just suddenly pop up again without any warning.”

Twilight frowned. “Sunset… what if whatever this is didn’t just pop up again? What if this is something she’s had all along?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is purely hypothetical, but if some alicorn sickness was already lying dormant in Celestia when she became immortal—”

Sunset’s hooves dropped on the table. “That would explain how she got sick in the first place!”

“Hypothetically,” Twilight quipped, but Sunset could hear a spark rocketing through her voice. It was the same spark her Twilight had when she uncovered some critical new angle in her readings or experiments. A perspective she hadn’t considered, or a revolutionary idea she was about to set loose on the world. It was one of the first things that made Sunset realize she was in love with her. She wasn’t just a nice pair of glasses and a kind, beautiful girl beneath them. Learning gave her an irresistible high that was contagious to any mind willing to listen. Twilight’s voice went on that way. “If that’s true, it might be Celestia’s immortality that kept it at bay so long. Why it’s affecting her now, we can figure out, but this means these books really might have our answer!”

“Twilight, you’re amazing!”

Then she blushed, because of course she did. “Well… that means a lot coming from you.”

And Sunset realized what she was doing. Where she was leading this. Who’s hoof was still on who’s. Missing her girlfriend was one thing. This was immature. She wasn’t the ring-leader in a high school drama anymore. She wasn’t going to just use ponies like that. She wasn’t who she used to be. But this is what she would’ve done before, isn’t it? Use someone or somepony as a means to an end?

Twilight followed her eyes and found what she was looking at, and Sunset’s heart tried to explode like an overripe popcorn bag, steaming and prickling with dozens of things trying to burst out at once. Twilight got this smile on her face, this grateful smile, and Sunset was pretty sure that the bag exploded.

“Sunset… I’m really glad you’re here,” she said, eyes starting to shine. The light outside was getting low, like a campfire ready to burnout. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. And, I’ve been thinking about everything, and… you’re like a big sister to me.”

Eyes fit to bursting, Sunset rushed out: “I’m dating the other world’s Twilight.”

Author's Note

A note (just because I would be concerned as a reader): no incest shipping here.

Oh, and you'll be happy to know Twilight's library card exists. I don't know what I was looking up that I managed to stumble across it, but whatever the case, zombie (the artist) inspired the library cards part of that scene!

Chapter 4 - Sister of the Setting Sun

Maybe it was a trick of the light or some kind of cosmic joke, but this Moon Dancer pony was a dead-ringer for Twilight. The mane, the tail, even facial structure matched if Sunset squinted enough. Were they related? Long lost twins? Sunset wouldn’t put it past Twilight to clone herself somehow. The magic and theory were both decades away from anything as complex as full pony cloning, but Twilight could do it if anypony could.

The lab-coat hugging her body only made the comparison easier. As Moon Dancer led them into the Celestia’s School’s labs, Sunset was probably gaping like a goon. It wasn’t like she was ogling her. She only really noticed how shapely she was because that shape was so much like Twilight’s, especially the back-end.

Somepony turned up the sauna in her cheeks, so she held up a hoof as if to block the sun from her eyes, averting her monogamous gaze. “Uhh—” Her voiced bubbled, and she cleared her throat. Twilight raised an eyebrow beside her. “So, how did you say you two knew each other?”

“Oh, we didn’t,” Moon Dancer responded, leaving them by one of the black countertop islands to get supplies. The foggy glass cabinet took a little fiddling with to unlock with the tiny key she had. The clatter of the metal lock and sliding glass was all the answer Moon Dancer provided.

Twilight, in a well-fitting lab-coat of her own, came up beside Sunset. But not right beside her. At least a two-pony distance. Sunset couldn’t blame her. It felt like that was there no matter where she stood. “We went to school together. I, uh, wasn’t a very good friend back then to say the least, but we’ve reconnected since.”

That had her rubbing her shoulder, but Sunset only felt like more of a creep for wanting to close the space between them. Neither of them had done a lot of looking at the other today. Sunset really didn’t want to make things worse by adding physical contact into the mix. She wasn’t even sure how that would feel after last night. Maybe you’d rather hug Moon Dancer, you sleaze. At least she’s not basically your sister.

Speaking of, Moon Dancer brought a whole cupboard’s worth of lab supplies back with her and took the slide sample from Twilight’s magical grasp. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the ever-expanding personal bubbles between Twilight and Sunset because she took the space between them without hesitation. “Oh, yes. We’re much better friends now. It’s been too long since your last visit, Twilight.”

A nervous laugh squeezed out of her. “Yeah, it, uh, really has. You’re right. I’ve dropped the ball a bit, haven’t I? It’s all the princess work, you know. Being the Princess of Friendship makes it hard to find time for... friends.”

Even if Sunset couldn’t comfort her friend the proper way, she could at least redirect the conversation before Twilight beat herself to death. “Wait. You two met in school, but you’re still studying now?”

Moon Dancer fiddled with the microscope and slides Twilight provided. “I’m a researcher for the school, studying’s kinda what I do.” Crap, she’s a researcher and a redheaded Twilight. Thinking unsexy thoughts. “I haven’t really specialized, but I might still be able to help. I’ve dabbled in microbiology.”

“’Dabbled?’” Twilight scoffed. “The dissertation you wrote on cell biology was nationally ranked!”

She wasn’t just being complementary. Both Twilight and Sunset had a basic knowledge of germs and some of their behaviors, and Sunset might’ve even been able to connect some dots if she had enough time, but since Twilight knew somewhat of a microbiologist anyway it was a no-brainer. Twilight’s expertise in friendship saved the day once again.

Moon Dancer shrugged one shoulder, and scrunched up her face as she adjusted the microscope. “That? It was nothing. Just some theory I was playing around with. Now an illness that’s potentially thousands of years old reemerging in modern day? That’s something worth investigating.”

There was a rule Sunset and her girlfriend had. If they could agree on whether or not another girl was attractive, it was fine to look. Neither of them were the jealous type. Or, at least neither of them admitted they were the jealous type. Even if they were, they wouldn’t let it ruin a perfectly innocuous moment. But her Twilight wasn’t here, and it made her feel like a garbage bin on top of everything else.

Sunset bit her lip before she asked, “So, you think you’ll be able to help us identify it?” She took out a notebook and slid it towards Moon Dancer. “Princess Luna helped us translate some old writings on alicorn illnesses she could’ve contracted before she achieved immortality. It’s our best bet.”

Moon Dancer pressed her lips together. “I can’t guarantee anything. Trying to identify samples based on external symptoms takes some excessive extrapolation. I could analyze this until the sun burns out, and we still wouldn’t have a conclusive answer.”

“We’ll take whatever we can get,” Twilight told her, totally able to touch Moon Dancer’s shoulder without blushing. “Any lead is a good one.”

Moon Dancer shook her head. “If you say so. I’ll run a few tests to get the ball rolling. I’ll see what I can gather in a quick diagnostic analysis. If you two wouldn’t mind preparing some supplies for me here while I work, we could get this done lickety-split.”

Both of them stammered out broken syllables, but Moon Dancer was already shutting the door into the next room. Then it was just the two of them, alone in a lab with their thoughts and the hum of magical light fixtures.

Sunset didn’t even want to make a move toward the equipment now, but that was what magic was for. She set the Bunsen burner aflame and went for the beakers. “So,” she said, through an uneven sigh. “She wanted some sterilizing compounds and…”

Twilight scrunched her muzzle. “Sunset, can we talk?”

Finally looking over, Sunset nodded. “I was really hoping you’d ask.”

“I’ve given it some thought, and I don’t want this to affect our friendship. The whole you-dating-her thing is definitely going to take some getting used to for me, but she’s her own person. She might have my name, but she has her own life. And if she chooses to share it with you, I think I can support that. As long as I don’t think about it too hard, which is a skill I’ve been working on.”

“Yep,” Sunset said, rubbing her neck. “Being friends with Pinkie Pie will do that to you.”

“Yeah. Right.” Twilight smiled, blushing. She wiped the air clean like a chalkboard. “You can forget about the whole ‘sister’ thing, by the way. That was a little too sentimental, anyway. With everything going on, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

That hit Sunset worse than the awkward quiet from the last day and a half. She’d honestly expected being let off the hook like this would be a relief, but instead it was a punch in the face.

Twilight kept going on. “Everything’s been so stressful lately being a princess, and now with Celestia like this, it’s just… a lot to take in. I’m overwhelmed, I’ll admit it. But I shouldn’t have said what I said yesterday, it’s silly.” That Bunsen burner might as well have been burning Sunset, for all the difference it made. The smile Twilight gave her is what did it. “You’re my best friend, Sunset. I hope it can stay that way.”

There was a time when hearing those words from that voice was the most terrifying thing Sunset could think of. It’d taken everything she had to ask the other Twilight out, and she’d chickened out more times than she’d ever admitted, but when they kissed backstage at graduation before her valedictorian speech? It was like she was Atlas and hadn’t realized she had been carrying the world on her shoulders until it was lifted off.

But now hearing those words, even from a different Twilight, ate away at her. Like she’d just lost the chance at something irreplaceable. But she’d practiced how to smile through her teeth before, just in case. “Absolutely.”

Twilight came closer and put her hooves around her. Sunset hugged back with one hoof. After they pulled away, Twilight had her eyebrow raised and a gentleness to her voice. “Are you okay?”

Thankfully, she never had to answer the question as Moon Dancer swooped back in and made them both jump. “Uh, girls? I think there was a mix-up. You gave me the wrong samples.”

Sunset bristled. “What do you mean?”

“There’s nothing discernibly wrong with it. No germs, no mutations, no traces of magic sickness. Nothing. It’s technically a perfectly healthy sample.”

Their faces twisted, exchanging a look with the Bunsen burner still blowing behind them. Twilight shook her head. “That makes no sense. How could it be a perfectly healthy sample? Princess Celestia’s sick.”

“Not according to what can I see,” she said, shrugging. “Well, except…”

Sunset was glaring now. “Except what?”

“I’m not sure how to say this, but on a cellular level, there’s absolutely nothing there to cause it, but she’s experiencing cell death at an accelerating rate.”

“How is that not sick? Obviously there has to be something causing it.”

Moon Dancer trotted over as cautiously as she would up to a wild animal. “But there isn’t. At least, not anything I can detect. I can keep looking all you want, but at this rate, I can only imagine the kinds of internal shutdowns her immortality’s fighting off. If you really think she’s losing that ability…”

The double-doors into the lab burst open and slammed against the white-tiled walls. A young, teenage guard who barely fit into his armour pushed up his helmet past his eyes. “Princess Twilight, Sunset Shimmer! You’re being summoned to the royal chambers at once.”

Sunset’s heart plummeted through her chest. Twilight stepped forward. “Why? What happened?”

An overwhelming swell of nausea washed over Sunset. She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t even know what she’d do. She couldn’t hear this. An animal part of her urged her to teleport out of here. Go to Fillydelphia, get back to the castle and the mirror, wherever. Why wasn’t there any air in here?

“Princess Cadance needs to speak with you,” he said. “Princess Celestia has taken a turn for the worst.”

Before Twilight’s teleportation spell even settled, Sunset and Twilight hit the ground running. They rushed down the hall. Cadance helped to close the distance, and Twilight’s panicked voice was quickly muffled in her sister-in-law’s coat. “Cadance! Is she okay? What’s going on?”

Squeezing Twilight, Cadance pulled back and held a hoof up to her mouth. Her eyes directed them to the door, the bottom still dark even in the daytime. “Don’t panic. She’s still with us, and she’ll be able to talk to you, but she’s gotten worse.” She took the chance to hug Sunset, as well, before holding both of their shoulders. “I think you should each talk to her, one on one. Tell her anything you think you need to.”

The hallway blurred and Sunset’s cheeks started to drip with warmth as the moment wore on and on. She smeared her cheeks, and swallowed. “So… you think she might…?”

“We don’t know anything for sure,” she admitted, putting every bit of authority and power behind her kind magenta eyes. Sunset had never considered why Cadance was the Princess of Love until that moment, when all the rest of the world fell away. “We should be prepared for the possibility. If anything did happen, I want you two to be as ready as possible.”

“Thank you,” Twilight whispered, holding the hoof on her shoulder.

They both took a moment to collect themselves again even if the pieces seemed scattered on a global scale. Breathing with the guidance of her hoof, Twilight came to first after drying her eyes. She held her sister’s hooves in her own. “Take a break. I’ll stay with her for a while after we talk. You’ve done so much, please, go. You should take care of yourself, too.”

As if her head was weighted with bricks, Cadance nodded. “If you’re sure you can handle that right now. Come find me when you’re done.”

Cadance left the two of them alone at the door. Even the guards kept a respectful distance. Just them, the firelight, and Celestia’s cutie-mark carved in ancient wood.

Sunset’s breath shuddered when it came out. “You go first. The more time you wait, the more you’ll worry. I don’t mind.”

Sunset could see the objections and fears hiding just behind Twilight’s eyes. Thankfully, Twilight just nodded, her lips pressed into a line. “You’re right. I’ll come get you when I’m done?”

“Sounds good,” Sunset said, hooves crossing over her chest.

With a hoof visibly shaking, Twilight sighed and disappeared inside, closing the door behind her. The halls made the sound as big as a canon’s fire.

During the first few minutes, Sunset spent the time sitting up against the wall beside the torch to the left. The longer she waited, the more she thought, the more her stomach hurt. She even developed a bit of a shiver like she’d taken a dip in a frozen sea and couldn’t get her coat dry. She was glad Twilight went first for more selfish reasons than she’d like to admit but quickly found herself cursing how long Twilight was taking.

There once was a time when she was bad at public speaking. Out of nowhere, the memory of her fifth grade presentations came flooding back. She couldn’t control her hooves from shaking or keep her voice steady. At the time, it was the biggest deal in the world. Now she couldn’t even remember the topics. She just remembered Celestia sitting front and center, or in Sunset’s flat the night before, watching on with an unattainable calm.

A lot of different memories came back to her. Her sixth birthday that she spent eating birthday cake on Celestia’s lap on the throne. That time when she was twelve and Celestia caught her trying to smoke in the commons. When she first moved into the castle at five, and Celestia sung her to sleep so she wouldn't be homesick. When she was eight and Celestia let her keep a baby phoenix she found stranded on one of their diplomatic excursions to the south, frankly because Sunset wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Philomena. Sunset couldn’t wait around much longer anymore, anyway. With a look back at the door, she knew Twilight needed to take her time. She fired up a quick teleportation spell and was back before anypony knew she left, this time with Philomena on the crook of her hoof.

Cooing and petting the phoenix’s head gave Sunset something else to focus on. “Could you do me a really, really big favour? I know, I leave for years and then come asking for your help, but Celestia needs you. If something happens to her, I-I don’t want her to be alone when she’s… facing the end. Could you maybe stay here? Even just waiting outside the door, she might be sensitive to light.”

Philomena butt her head into Sunset’s, which stung, but she decided in a good way.

The empty hallway let her voice sound more important. Not bigger, but crisper. “Thanks, girl.”

The door squelched open, and Twilight came out smiling to the pony waiting inside. She dried her eyes as Sunset stood up. Philomena took the chance to hop over to the torch and squat like she was nesting. Which was good, because Twilight and Sunset needed to hold each other more.

Twilight rubbed her back. “Just speak from the heart. That’s all you can do.”

“Last time I said goodbye,” she said, voice quaking, “I wanted to and I didn’t regret it, but it nearly broke me.”

Sunset felt Twilight’s hooves get tighter around her neck and torso. “Be direct. And don’t hold anything back. You’ll know what to say.”

They let go sometime after that. Sunset couldn’t remember when, but logically it had to happen because she ended up in the darkened private chambers alone, listening to the fireplace crackle and the seething rattle coming from the bed with every rise and fall of the sheets.

The chambers were dimly lit. Sunset couldn’t remember a single time she’d ever seen the curtains drawn. Thanks to the fireplace, light and shadows tangoed in mad patterns all around the room. Watching the bed, Sunset felt a sickening lump form in the back of her throat.

The hooves beneath her moved on their own, and she found herself standing above a nearly unrecognizable shell. “Sunset,” the sick princess whined. The unicorn almost didn’t recognize the voice, just barely above too breathy to hear.

“I’m here.” Sunset put her hoof over her mentor’s and stroked. The room was so humid from the fire, but she was supernaturally cold.

Celestia had a smile on her face, wrinkling her eyes. Between breaths, she said, “That you are.”

Tears dripped onto the blanket. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t around more.”

“No more apologies, Sunset,” she told her. “We’ve done that already, haven’t we?”

“I know,” Sunset said with the ghost of a laugh. “But I mean it. You deserved so much better from me.”

“Likewise from me. But I know your heart… and there’s nothing left to apologize for. Otherwise, if we keep holding onto the past, apologies are all we’ll ever say to each other.”

“Okay. Sure. No more apologizing,” Sunset conceded. The princess had a point, and if she procrastinated this any longer she’d regret it for as long as she lived. “Princess, I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I guess you know I’ve never been all that close with my mom. Even when I tried visiting home, we never got along. A lot of fights. I never really knew why that was. Maybe because my parents were always so shouty with each other? I don’t know. But, I’ve always kind of thought of you as like a mom.”

Celestia’s eyes wrinkled even further. Her hoof shook, gradually reaching toward the clouds. Sunset helped guide it, so that Celestia was holding her cheek. “It would be one of my greatest accomplishments to call you my daughter.”

They smiled at each other. “I love you, mom.” That felt weird for her to say out loud. The last pony she’d said that to hadn’t really deserved it. She’d have to get used to that for sure, but Sunset thought she liked the sound of it.

Her breathing made it hard, but she said back, “I love you, too, Sunset.”

From there, Sunset talked about a lot of things. Little things. What her friends were up to lately, shows she was watching, what a show was. None of it mattered, per se, but all of it was more important than anything in this life to her. But, one thing did matter, and as soon as she caught herself trying to skirt around it, Sunset stopped. “I’ve got a marefriend back in the other dimension. I’m in love with her, and if or when someday we get married, I want you to be there. I want you to give me away at my wedding.”

A millenia’s worth of sadness surfaced in her eyes. “Sunset…”

Sunset scowled, crying messily. “You’re going to be there, if I have anything to say about it, even if I have to drag you through the portal myself kicking and screaming. I can promise that much. But you have to promise if I hold up my side of things, you’ll be there.”

“Refusing to accept this will do you no favours.”

Sunset was already halfway to the door. “You waited for me. I’m not giving up on you now.”

When she came out, she essentially collapsed into Twilight. They cried into each other. The only other living pony who knew what it was like: her little sister.

Chapter 5 - Sunlight Shimmering Love

Under special orders to get her head together while Twilight took a turn as Celestia’s bed-nurse, Sunset went back to her room. She couldn’t exactly argue. Diving back into the research without Twilight would be one thing, but she was a wreck and nothing sounded better than taking her mind off everything.

Her face slammed into a pillow and stayed there until she was forced to come up for air. Sleep would’ve been ideal, but she wasn’t usually able to nap during the day unless heavily drugged with cough syrup, which she didn’t have handy. Theoretically, she could raid the royal winery and make do, but something, maybe her liver, told her that wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism.

The journal sitting on her bedside seemed like a much better option. Especially with Philomena not in the room to nark on her if she decided on ripping out a page when she returned the book to Princess Twilight.

Hey, Twi. Can you talk right now?

The reply wasn’t as instantaneous as last time, but within a few minutes Twilight wrote back, Of course. Is everything alright?

She wasn’t particularly keen on telling her what happened with Princess Twilight, because how would she bring something like that up? ‘Oh, don’t worry about me, baby. I sorta think of you as my little sister now, that’s all. No big.’

The rest was actually somewhat easier. Princess Celestia’s not doing well, and we still have no idea what’s wrong with her. We had a good, long talk, though. I told her about

Sunset stopped herself. If Twilight knew she’d told Celestia about having a girlfriend, she’d want to come. Sunset couldn’t handle that right now.

well, a lot of things. I’m glad I got to tell her how I felt about her, at least.

That’s something. How are you feeling now?

Honestly? Like I’d rather talk about anything other than what I’m feeling.

That bad, huh?

Yeah. Although I’ve never been all that in tune with my emotions, so I don’t know how much that’s saying.

Twilight doodled a little heart, and a little arrow from her words to the drawing. Would pictures help? That’s sometimes helpful in therapy, especially for kids, but anything that works, right?

Sunset snorted and drew something obscene that wasn’t entirely anatomically correct. It was boobs. She drew boobs. Those usually work for me.

Very funny, wise girl.

Who says that doesn’t accurately express my feelings right now? I’m talking to my girlfriend, aren’t I?

There was a pause before Twilight wrote back. Aw. Is someone feeling lonely?

Depends. Do I get a naughty drawing if I answer correctly, Sparky?

If you actually let me help you, I’ll draw you a whole notebook full.

You do realize I’m going to hold you to that, right?

Only if you hold up your end of the bargain.

Well, fine. If you’re so determined to be amazing, what do YOU suggest we talk about? Because I’m sort of emotionally burnt-out right now.

That’s fine, I can work with burnt-out. Quantifying it might be beneficial. Sometimes that helps me when I’m having a bad time. Have you eaten today?

Oh yeah, Sunset wrote, three course breakfast.

Stress-eating?

Not really. If I didn’t, the royal cooks would take it very personally. Trust me. I’ve known some of them all my life, and they don’t forget.

You grew up with your own personal chefs who cook you multi-course meals three times a day.

Yes?

Metabolisms aren’t fair.

Hey, the other you got the same treatment, and you two don’t seem that different.

Sunset stared at the page and instantly wished she’d been using pencil.

There was another pause. This time, a very long one, stretching on and on like the passage of time was taffy. Sunset eventually wrote, Please tell me what’s bothering you, Twi. I’m here. It doesn’t matter what’s going on with me, I always want to be there for you. It’s how a relationship works.

The pause went on until finally Twilight wrote, I’m sorry, Sunset. Recently, I’ve been putting a lot of thought into our future together and how everything’s been so far. It’s been amazing, but we got together so quick, and all of it only after Princess Twilight saved you. And, she wrote, if I’m honest, you spending time with her scares me. I’m not jealous so much as worried you picked the wrong Twilight.

She went on, You look up to her. I don’t know if you know how much. She’s your best friend and one of your closest confidants. The fact of the matter is, she gave you a second chance at life. That’s something I could never give you.

Sunset had to read it again, scrambling for the right response. Twiligh

I KNOW you’d never cheat but that’s also the problem in a way, because if you ever did feel that way, you might regret our relationship forever because you could’ve been with her instead of me. And knowing you wouldn’t do anything about it hurts because you could be unhappy with me and never be able to say it. You’re too sweet for your own good.

Blinking into existence on the page, a few splotches smudged and warped the words. A fire broke out in Sunset’s chest. She’d tear the fabric of the multiverse apart to get to her if she could. In fact, she’d already started casting a teleport spell back to Ponyville… before she short-circuited. Leaving Celestia now could legitimately kill her.

She steadied her breath holding her headache in her hoof.

I chose you for a reason. I love YOU. You have to know that. We might’ve started dating fast, but that’s because I spent all of senior year falling for you. Not her.

I know that, but I’m not worried about high school senior Sunset. I’m worried about university senior Sunset, or twenty years down the road Sunset. Are things going to change when we have more perspective? You were friends with her first, and then I conveniently came along when she couldn’t be there. What if you had already fallen for her by the time we met?

Sunset’s stomach did not like that suggestion. It just about flipped like she was back on the Colossus at Seven Flags with the girls. Judging by her watering mouth, she suspected it would end up just as messy.

She scowled and willed it back by swallowing.

I didn’t. You two are so different you’re literal worlds apart. I know you might be alternate versions of each other, but you’re individuals.

You didn’t know that when we met. I saw how you looked at me. I could only really identify it in hindsight, but I know what you look like when you’re in love.

Look, I love you now, but you’re remembering it wrong. And even if I did have a thing for you back then, it’s nothing like the relationship we have now. Me and the princess,She crossed it out and tried again. Look, it’s just not something you have to worry about. I promise.

Even as she wrote it, Sunset knew Twilight would still worry. Just because something logically shouldn’t concern her didn’t mean she wouldn’t go full Anxious Twi mode. If there was one thing Sunset had learned about her girlfriend, it was that.

She’d always sort of known that about Twilight, but it became abundantly clear the first winter after they started dating.

Admittedly, Sunset had been a little eager. Fall was definitely her favourite season, and winter? Far and away her least favourite. Growing up in a mountain climate like Canterlot meant winters could get dark and bitter, advanced levels of bitter. One year, she was so fed up with it that she legitimately started researching hibernation spells. She never ended up using Sleeping Cutie, but every morning she’d been tempted.

Canterlot City, on the other hand, at least had the chance of throwing nicer weather in the mix, but more to the point, she had other things to keep her warm. In fact, she always had six reasons to get out of bed that she never had growing up. Winter started to change from the devil’s season to hangouts at Sugarcube Corner with hot cocoa, cheering Rainbow Dash on in varsity hockey, and celebrating holidays she still didn’t quite understand with a family who understood her better than anyone.

Showing Twilight all her new favourite holiday traditions and maybe creating some of their own together made her warm enough to ward off the cold breezes like unwanted spirits.

When the girls wanted to go skating on the lake, she might’ve ignored a few warning signs, like Twilight warning her it might not be the best idea, for one.

The girls were all already on the ice by the time they got there. Applejack and Rainbow Dash tore across the lake from one end to the other, locked in the heat of battle and shaving the ice every time they reached one end. Rarity and Fluttershy took a much more leisurely pace with Pinkie making loops and waving their way.

Waving back and setting down her duffle bag on the snowy shore, Sunset noticed Twilight lagging behind.

She turned toward her with her gloved hands in her pockets. “You know,” she said, her breath visible in the air, “it’s okay if you really don’t want to. We made sure it’s safe, but if it still makes you nervous, the girls will understand.”

“No, no,” Twilight told her, panting so much her cheeks were as rosy as her ear-muffs. “It seems like fun.”

Sunset’s eyebrow took off. “Are you feeling okay? You’ve been coughing ever since I picked you up. Do you think you’re coming down with something?”

Twilight came up and focused on zipping Sunset’s jacket. “I should be asking you that, missy. I don’t care how good you make it look. You’ll catch hypothermia before I even learn how to skate.”

“You don’t know how to skate?” Twilight’s blush deepened its hue. Sunset did her best to look encouraging. “Want me to teach you how?”

Twilight coughed into her mitt before smiling at her, nodding.

After lacing up, Sunset offered Twilight both of her hands. Twilight wobbled onto her feet and then grabbed Sunset’s forearms to keep from face-planting into her chest. “Gak!”

Sunset bit back a laugh. “That’s normal. It’ll take you awhile to get your balance.”

Still huffing out smoke like a dragon, Twilight trembled and tugged on her arms. “Am I doing this right?”

“Yeah, kinda. But try to straighten your ankles if you can. It’ll help you keep steady.” Sunset tried to demonstrate with her own skates, but they weren’t wobbling beneath her, so she knew it would take Twilight a bit longer. In hindsight, the lake wasn’t the best place to learn. As Sunset started them moving, they drifted over the bumpy frozen waves and cracks, with Twilight wobbling even harder.

Twilight's face twisted. “Like this?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, steering them out further into the dark end of the lake at a gentle pace. The panting was a bit worrying, especially since Twilight was clearly trying to make it quieter. Sunset knew her girlfriend wasn’t in great shape. She didn’t want to draw too much attention to it since Twilight was already self-conscious about not being able to skate. Instead, she brought her girlfriend a little closer and smiled. “You’re doing great.”

“Thanks,” Twilight breathed, concentrating on her own feet. “How are you so good at this? You… used to be a quadruped.”

“You’d be surprised how often I wear high heels.”

“That’s not an explanation,” she said, wheezing.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack zoomed around at phenomenal speeds off to their left, racing from one set of evergreens to another. Sunset wasn’t entirely convinced that Rainbow took off her magic geode necklace for this. She’d learned how to fake normal speeds with it on a little too well.

Twilight was watching them, too. “Are you… you sure you wouldn’t rather skate by yourself? I’m… I’m holding you back.” Her breath was starting to whistle with every wheeze.

Sunset’s brow pulled together. “Why are you so out of breath?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Twilight wobbled on her feet, leaning into Sunset, who could feel her grip loosening.

Rarity, Pinkie, and Fluttershy all drifted over at once.

“Is everything alright?” Rarity asked.

It sounded like Twilight was breathing through a tube. Her voice hollowed out to find room for the oxygen in her windpipe. She didn’t really answer other than by struggling to perform one of the most basic physical needs for survival.

Fluttershy rubbed Twilight’s back. “Is it your asthma?”

Twilight nodded. Below her breath, too low to really hear she said, “Yes, yes…”

Sunset’s heart froze like the lake. “Where’s your inhaler?”

At that point, she’d only ever seen Twilight pull it out after a particularly deep kiss or a run around the track during gym class back at CHS. All those times, it didn’t take her long to get her breath back, and none of them were all that severe. Although, there were plenty of times they’d been in danger when Twilight had to keep up, but she hadn’t used it then, or at least Sunset hadn’t seen it. She cursed at herself for not connecting the dots sooner.

With the snow collecting on the back of her head, Twilight coughed and fell toward the ground.

Maneuvering her arm around Twilight’s shoulders, Sunset looked to the girls, now including Applejack and Rainbow Dash who zipped over. “We’ve gotta get her to the hospital.”

To their credit, all their friends helped Twilight along and didn’t take wheezed I’m sorrys for an answer. Sunset was the one who should’ve been sorry. What kind of idiot wouldn’t put it together when she came up panting? Was skating really that important to her that she was fine just neglecting Twilight when she was clearly struggling right in front of her? She had to be a better girlfriend than this.

The hospital and Twilight’s parents took good care of her, but that unfortunately left Sunset and the girls crowding the waiting room. Sunset wasn’t much of a pacer, but her legs were jumping and twitching in her seat pretty much the whole time.

After a few hours, Shining Armor retrieved them from the waiting room, and they got to see her breathing steady again. Without rushing them too much, Sunset waited until all of the girls got all the hugs they needed before asking for a moment alone with her. They were all understanding, of course, if a bit suggestive. Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash was suggestive. By now, Sunset figured it was her way of showing her support.

Not to prove her too right, but they did have a pretty good, if brief, wow-you-almost-died kiss after everyone else shut the door behind them. They’d had a little too much practice at that kind.

Sunset put the oxygen mask back on her girlfriend before kissing her knuckles. “Twilight, I don’t know why I didn’t notice. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”

The mask made it sound like she was talking through a speaker or on the other end of one of their late-night phone calls. “I didn’t want to ruin your fun. You were so happy to go skating with the girls, a-and you’ve never seen me have an asthma attack before—they’re usually not this bad, but I didn’t know if it would upset you. So, I thought if I could just get it under control, you wouldn’t have to worry over nothing.” She looked down at the starchy, pastel green hospital sheets over her lap. “But I guess this time wasn’t really ‘nothing'.”

“Yeah, seriously. Your brother said your lungs were clogging up with fluid?” Twilight nodded, and Sunset decided hand-holding wasn’t cutting it. The bed was about as stiff as a board of wood, but Twilight was comfy to cozy up to, and hearing her heartbeat didn’t hurt things. They’d been through so much worse, been much closer to death, but it didn’t hurt. Neither did Twilight playing with her hair, but that was just a bonus. “What happened out there?”

“The cold.”

Sunset stared up at her. “What?”

“The change in temperature,” she said beneath the mask. “Sometimes, when it’s really cold like that it triggers my asthma. It’s the season.”

“I hate winter so much,” Sunset told her, unflinchingly still.

Twilight giggled. “Worst season there is.”

“I’m glad we’ve come to a consensus as a couple. It’s really good that we don’t have to argue over the real issues.”

Twilight went quiet, stroking Sunset’s hair. “I’m sorry, Sunset… Are you mad at me?”

Sunset blinked. “Am I mad at you? Are you kidding? Twilight, I'm just glad that you’re okay.”

At the time, she could barely believe Twilight would be so focused on her after she was the one whose lungs were malfunctioning. But for someone who spent most of her life as a loner, Twilight cared so damnably much. And for whatever reason, she cared about Sunset. She’d been caring for a long time.

And now Sunset had to prove she’d been caring, too, but if the years they’d spent together weren’t enough, what could she say to make it anymore clear? Sunset pressed the quill to the page again. I don’t know what’s going to make you see it, but I love you. I promise.

Twilight didn’t respond after that.

Sunset meant every needlessly sappy word. Still, she couldn’t help but taste that roller-coaster vomit linger from the back of her throat. And even trying to reread all of that again wasn’t nearly as comforting as it should’ve been.

She needed a second opinion.

Out of all of Canterlot’s cafes, diners, and eateries, Delicacy’s Family Kitchen was secretly Celestia’s favourite. The princess used to tell her how it would be unfair to the other restaurants to say which she personally liked best, which quite honestly was true in a place like Canterlot. The upper-crust had refined tastes, but they’d lick dirt if Celestia said it was all the rage.

Sunset herself even had a bit of sway once upon a time. Looking back now, she felt kinda bad for taking advantage of it like she did—which is why she totally understood when her waitress was a bit snippy with her before she took her menu. Sunset would definitely have to make sure to chip in a bit extra for all those free meals she managed to score over the years.

The atmosphere was worth it, anyway. Or, the stratosphere, to be more accurate. They’d chosen a table outside, but what was particularly unique about Delicacy’s wasn’t just a penchant for cakes and pastries, it was the view. The outdoor seating was set-up on the southwest edge of Canterlot. A golden guardrail lassoed the city in, but apart from that, their table overlooked Ponyville, the clouds, and the gorgeous rolling hills hundreds of hoof-lengths below.

Plus, they had free petunias on the table in a vase. Now that Sunset was regularly dating someone, she’d learned to appreciate free food.

Using her magic, she poured two cups of steaming hot tea. Best to ease into it. “How are you holding up?”

Princess Cadance took her tea in her hooves. “Better, now that I’ve had a chance to rest. I got to check in with my husband and Flurry Heart’s crystaller, Sunburst. They’re falling to pieces and lying through their teeth, but it was so good to talk to them. Twilight really saved me.”

“Yeah, she’s sweet like that,” Sunset said, rubbing the base of her neck. The stress building up there would probably take awhile to work out when she was back in her yoga class with Fluttershy. That class wasn’t her idea to begin with (and in fact was a court mandated alternative to going back to anger management), but she’d warmed up to it after a while. Meditation was something she understood, training under Celestia, even if she hadn’t always appreciated it. She just wished she had that kind of calm going into this conversation. “That’s actually sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.

“You know about the other dimension, right? Where there’s another version of everypony?” She waited. Cadance nodded. “Well, over there, there’s an alternate version of Twilight, and she and I are going out.”

The smile that leaped onto her face was a little too sweet for Sunset’s tastes. As if a baby kitten barfed up an even smaller, even younger baby kitten. Thankfully, her expression quickly turned to something she understood. “So, you’re dating my little sister-in-law, hm?”

“Only technically,” she said, hooves out over the table. “At least, I think. That’s just it. I’m starting to have trouble finding a difference between this world’s Twilight and my marefriend, and it’s really messing with my head now that I kinda think of Princess Twilight as my sister.”

Cadance sat back against the swirly, golden chair. “That is a problem.”

“Majorly.” Despite the breath-stealing view racing off into the misty horizon before them, all Sunset could do was stare into the doily-patterned table cloth. “I love them both deeply, in extremely different ways, but if they’re basically the same Twilight, where’s the line separating my sister from the love of my life?” She groaned. “Even saying it out loud sounds disgusting.”

Cadance put a hoof over her mouth. Again, too cute. The mare didn’t have to try, maybe because of all the love magic inside her, and Sunset didn’t really trust anyone that made her want to hug them once and never let go, especially where there was magic involved. Cadance stirred her tea and said, “Well, Twilight’s not your actual sister, is she?”

“Well, no, but she’s not your actual sister, either, right? You’re not blood-related, and sure, she’s a sister-in-law, but that’s not why she’s family to you. Sometimes ponies just feel like family. It’s like how Celestia adopted you as a niece. Just because there isn’t a biological connection doesn’t mean she’s not your aunt. It’s kinda the same thing. She raised me and Twilight from when we were fillies like we were her own, and whether or not Twilight looks at it like that, I think I do.”

“I’m starting to get the picture,” she said, wincing. “I think what it comes down to is how you see her. There’s nothing objectively wrong with the situation if she’s not your sister, but if you really feel that she is, you can’t be dating her.”

Sunset sighed. “Yeah. But that’s an impossible choice to make.”

“Well, it’s your choice, Sunset. If it helps, soul-mates don’t have to have a romantic relationship. I’m sure by now you’ve learned how profound and powerful friendships can be, and sisters can be just the same. The magic of love comes in many forms, and one isn’t necessarily less meaningful than the others. What makes a pony your soul-mate is the profound, mystical bond you share. And if you feel that way about Twilight, all that’s left is to decide what it means.”

Sunset didn’t know if that qualified as an all that’s left, but she wasn’t about to argue with the Princess of Love over love. Semantics, maybe. She’d gotten into some pretty legendary battles of rhetoric in her time. At one point she’d held the championship belt for the CSGU Debate Team. Come to think of it, she never gave that back…

Best not to get hung up over the small stuff. Sunset smiled. “Well, thanks for taking the time for me on your break.”

Their steaming pasta bowls came to the table. The marinara, garlic, and vegetables smelled suspiciously like heaven, complementing Cadance’s smirk. “How can I say no to a free lunch with my favourite cousin?”

Blushing slightly, Sunset raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Seriously? I was such a brat to you growing up.”

Cadance put on a smile. “Not more than Blueblood.”

They both broke out laughing, and while cackling Sunset tried to get out, “The standards are so low!”

“He was so terrible!” The laughter spilled out until there was nothing really left to spill. Cadance huffed, wiping her eyes. “He can be sweet, when he wants to be. He came to visit Aunt Celestia and stayed the whole day.”

“Whoa, really?” Sunset whistled. “That bar’s starting to raise a little.”

Cadence worked the noodles around her fork. “Don’t worry. He’s still no real competition. You may not have been my favourite pony to foalsit, but you’ve come along way since then and you weren't all bad, back then. I missed you when you left. It was hard to know you were in pain when nopony could reach you.”

"You... really?" She saw Cadance nod with her own eyes, but she couldn't trust them. Not with them prickling like that. "Wow, I... I don't know, I guess I just never thought..." She let loose a breath. "Ponyfeathers, now I feel even worse about how I treated you." Sunset bit her cheek and paused. “You know, I don’t know if you could guess, but there was a reason I was awful to you—besides the whole spoiled-rich-kid-gone-rogue thing I had going on. When you became an alicorn, I wasn’t in the best head-space, and it messed with me. I wanted that for so long, I even thought that’s what Celestia might’ve wanted from me. I couldn’t take it when it happened to some stranger I’d never even met. But, I’m sorry that being power-crazy kinda made me hate you for a while there. You didn’t deserve that. You're a good cousin, even if we're not really family.”

After biting her lip, Cadence leaned forward. “Is that the only reason?”

Sunset’s brow slammed together. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you just said it yourself. You think of Celestia as a mother. When I first became an alicorn, there were so many new responsibilities. Moving into the royal chambers, taking on leadership. It was overwhelming to say the least, but through it all, I got to be right by her side. Isn’t that what you really wanted?”

“I wanted a lot of things," she muttered. "It wasn’t just that.”

“Then, what?

“Well... you know! She adopted you.” Trying to hide her eyes, Sunset took this opportunity to check out the view. “A-as a niece, I know, it’s not—it’s different, and you deserved it—”

“Sunset, it’s okay. She’s my aunt. I understand. I know what it’s like to look up to her. Or want to help her when she pulls away.”

Sunset’s eyes fluttered up, ringed with tears. “She did that to you, too, huh?”

“And she wonders where her students get it from,” she said, nodding.

There was a saying about Canterlot: Anypony who got lost wasn’t very observant. There was some truth to that. No matter where a pony was in the city, they could always see the castle. A younger Sunset liked that because the world seemed to revolve around that castle that was quite literally at the center of the country. Now it just reminded her she couldn’t escape the fact that her mom was dying up there.

Sunset glared at the southeast tower. “Well this time she has to let us help. I haven’t given up on finding a cure. I just don’t know where to look…”

Cadance smiled. “I might have a suggestion.”

“Right this way, Miss Shimmer,” said the guard, pulling back the obscenely heavy and needlessly tall doors into the throne room. She nodded to Sunset, then stood at attention outside.

I know where the throne room is.

The doors collapsed in behind her, making the kind of sound that could start an earthquake. The relatively non-existent buzz of magic and quill scratching couldn’t possibly fill those horseshoes afterward. Even Sunset’s own hoof-steps, muffled in the rug, couldn’t compare to this place.

Walking down this great hall was nowhere near the same. Sort of like when she’d gone back to Canterlot High to tutor her friend’s sisters in Calculus. The halls bent the same, but the walls were covered with all new posters and filled with strange faces she didn’t recognize. If she could multiply a feeling, this would be it.

The last time she was here, she bawled apologies into her old teacher’s coat. The time before that, she left for another dimension. Now, she couldn’t stop herself from staring at the new stain glass-windows. New posters, strange faces. Gorgeous colours and cute renditions of Twilight and her friends’ likenesses, she had to admit, all alight leaving colourful shadows on the floor and catching dust motes in their midday light.

How many adventures had Twilight had? She couldn’t have gone through all this.

There was almost more of her and her friends then there was of the princesses, and even more were still ahead with plain fixtures as if she just assumed there were still at least one or two more unbelievable stories ahead of her.

At the head of the room, Princess Luna bowed her head to her adviser. “Thank you, Night Watch. We’ll speak more of the schedule at a later time. I wish to have a private meeting.”

The squat batpony over-estimated how grand he needed to make that bow. “Yes, my grace, of course, my grace, whatever grace wants.”

He packed up his little scroll and left as silently as he could, which left Sunset alone in a room with a pony she’d never been alone with before. She hadn’t expected that thought to send a chill through her.

“Sunset Shimmer,” Princess Luna said on her way down from the main throne. She didn’t meet her halfway but thankfully closed the distance before Sunset had to go too close to the thrones themselves. Instead, Luna’s meditative calm drew her in. “I’ve hoped for a chance to meet with you for far too long.”

The sheer gravitational pull of the Princess’s gaze made Sunset almost forget to bow. By the time she remembered, her blush was hot. “Thank you for finding time for me, Princess.”

Luna took Sunset by the hoof and helped her to stand. “You’re too close to my sister’s heart to lower yourself here. You may be my subject, but I should think my sister’s ex-protégé and current student of Princess Twilight has some right to stand on her own hooves.”

Sunset pushed back her bangs. “Well, I’m still not even really sure if I count as that second one, but thanks.” She took a breath and managed a grin. “You’re not too busy, are you?”

“In truth, I have not been anything but ‘too busy’ since taking my sister’s mantle. It makes me wonder why I was ever so intent on ruling alone.”

“I know the feeling,” she said, trying to laugh. “Still, I’m glad we could finally meet one-on-one. We can get into all the sentimental stuff later. I wanted to ask you a few questions about alicorn illnesses.”

She took out Alicorn Ailments and the other books she and Twilight had previously had Luna translate for them and flipped through the pages, stopping on bookmarked passages. “A friend of Twilight’s can’t identify anything in any of her samples no matter how many times she retests them, but this is the only thing that makes any kind of sense. Look again. Do you think any of these could be what she’s got now? If anypony could recognize it, it'd be you.”

Luna took the books in her magical grasp and flipped through a good number of pages, but after a careful read, came away shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Sunset Shimmer. If I knew what was afflicting my sister, I would have told you. I’ve never once encountered the kind of sickness she suffers.”

Sunset let out a breath that was distantly related to a scoff. “Not even once?”

Luna shook her head. “Nothing has come close, and it certainly cannot come from any of these books. All of these illnesses died out thousands of years ago.”

Sunset’s pupils narrowed, her eyes darting between the books. “Well, maybe it’s just one of these neither of you ever saw. Is there any chance at all, absolutely any, that Celestia was sick when she became an alicorn? Maybe it’s just something she’s fought off for thousands of years without knowing it. I know it sounds implausible, but this is the only resource we have with sicknesses the doctors didn't know about. If they couldn't find any modern disease, it has to be something in here. And if something maybe triggered something dormant in her, it could explain why you don’t recognize it.”

Princess Luna floated the books back to Sunset. “A creative thought, but impossible. My sister and I were born alicorns, before Equestria was founded. Our immortality was a birthright.”

Sunset took the books back in her magical grasp. She still had a headache from crying earlier. Even if she couldn’t stop her eyes from heating up again, she could stop herself from breaking down in front of yet another princess. She grit her teeth to keep her eyes from shining. “So… that’s it. All diseases known to ponykind and we still don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

A firm hoof helped to keep her in check, but she hadn't expected the rawness in the voice that followed. “Fearing the worst often leads us closer to it. Don’t lose your courage. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed. How you even found these old tomes is a mystery to me.”

Sunset paused, letting her mind jump away from the unimaginable. They hadn't told her when they were having them translated because they just assumed she would recognize them. “They aren’t yours? From the old observatory?”

Luna’s whole expression flipped until what she said made her seem a bit hypocritical. “The observatory is still open?”

“No, it’s, uh, boarded-up.” Sunset became keenly aware of how hard Luna was pressing her hoof into her shoulder. “Sorry.”

Princess Luna shut her eyes and sighed so deep her entire body sagged, and her hoof returned to the plush of the rug. “No. You bear good news. That observatory never belonged to me. It was my sister’s.”

Sunset stared at her. “Okay, I don’t know if I’m the only one who can see this, but it has a giant mural of your cutie mark on the floor. I think it’s reasonable to assume it had something to do with you. Why would she design it like that if it wasn’t meant for you?”

Turning back to her, Luna opened her thousand-year-old eyes. “It was a shrine.”

Her brow released. A beat passed where things connected in her mind. The star-maps. The glass rooftop. The telescope. It was like seeing a constellation for the first time in a cluster of stars she’d seen in the sky all her life. “Oh my Celestia.”

Luna’s night-like gaze rested on the daylight in the window. The view didn’t do much but glow in the sun. “Not long after she was forced to send me to the moon, my sister relocated the castle. She’s since confided in me that she felt wrong ruling from our home alone.” Leaning to watch a bird fly out of view, her features scrunched together. “She still neglects to tell me how many moons she used that shrine. Only that she found the strength to leave her mistakes behind her.”

The doubt on Sunset’s face couldn’t have been clearer, but she nodded, coming up beside her at the window. “Carrying around your past gets pretty hard.”

The Princess regarded the little unicorn beside her. “I should thank you, Sunset Shimmer.”

“That’s something I don’t hear everyday,” she said, edging towards sardonic.

A more graceful version of a smirk appeared on the Princess’s face as she turned to face forward. “I believe she moved on from losing me by teaching you.”

Sunset just about did a double-take. From one look, Sunset could tell the princess was serious. Then, she too stared ahead, eyes as wide and round as the sun itself. After a moment, her expression fell closer to the shadows behind the throne than the light in front of them. “Creative thought.”

“You don’t believe she treated you differently than most?” The Princess had her eyebrow perked, but Sunset was too busy finding cracks in the marble floor to see. “Like you deserved all of Equestria? Like you hung the moon?”

Sunset’s brow furrowed, glaring.

“She’s told me herself. She saw so much of me in you. Your anger, your pride, your ambition.” The whites of Luna’s teeth looked so much more pure against the darkness in her coat. “All the attention you could ever want, an entire kingdom promised to you. You were spoiled rotten.” She nodded, pleased with her observation. “Of course you were. My sister spent hundreds of moons wishing she had done the same for me.”

You want to believe that. You want to believe any part of it wasn’t all your fault. Sunset scowled, blushing again, which she was getting really sick of doing.

Apparently Princess Luna had the same unnerving telepathy her sister seemed to selectively have. She turned toward Sunset, their shadows growing larger on the floor behind them. “I know the impossible task of living with yourself and your mistakes. Our demons aren’t that different, Sunset Shimmer. My sister is a meticulous judge of character, truly. The work you’ve done to come to accept responsibility for your past is commendable, but it will never be complete if you can never let go.”

“I… I have,” she told her. “My past is not today. I know that. I have a whole new family. I’ve earned back everyone’s trust. I’ve done a lot of good. I’m proud of who I am now.”

“I hope you are.” Princess Luna gave her a smile and began to walk off. “But, some roads are longer than they appear.”

Startled, Sunset lifted her head. The princess had all but vanished. She frowned. How was it possible that Celestia’s sister was even more cryptic than her?

On her way out of the throne room, Sunset took her buzzing journal from her jacket pocket. Taking a short walk around the corner, so the palace guards wouldn’t be looking directly over her shoulder at her gay journal writing, she flipped to the latest page.

Sunset, I need to tell you something. It’s kind of a long something, so bare with me.

After talking to the girls about it for a long time (by which I mean months), they’ve finally convinced me: I worry a lot. An excessive amount, actually. But, most of the time, I only worry about things when they matter a lot to me. Admittedly, that can get to be disproportional to the amount that it actually matters, but I think because of that when something comes into my life that really does matter, it’s that much more intimidating.

All this to say, I wish I wasn’t so scared or good at imagining the worst, but I’m not going to let our relationship suffer because I am. I love you. I want a future together. And, I’ve been meaning to ask you

There was a pause in the writing before Twilight wrote, would you move in with me?

Sunset stared at the page and had to reread the words.

Twilight backpedaled at lightning speed. I mean, I could always move in with you, the place doesn’t matter. We can compare rent, space, and comfort levels in each living area. Or, we could even compare third options and I promised I wouldn’t ramble and I’m sorry but I don’t want to cross anything out now because I meant all of it.

The rambling wasn’t the reason Sunset’s head was whirling. She wanted to say yes, dear Celestia did she want to say yes. But, if she did, who in Tartarus would she be moving in with? Her girlfriend? Her sister? Could she even tell the difference anymore? When did she let things get so screwed up?

Things had started off so well.

She could remember herself back then, at graduation.

The whole of Canterlot City came out for an evening on the green of the football field. Or, it felt that way, standing backstage, peeking out from behind the black curtains propped up by the makeshift stage the students had put together the day before. How they managed to fill the whole field was beyond Sunset. Then she looked out at the seas of faces. Canterlot High, the entirety of Crystal Prep, and even a few alumni of Camp Everfree, all waiting for her.

“Nervous?”

Hearing that voice, her lips didn’t work like they were supposed to. Because of it, her smile was probably really doofy. She let the curtains fall back in place and tried to suppress at least some of the goofiness. “A little.” She stopped and relinquished all hope of containing the goof-factor. “Wow.”

The graduation gown covered Twilight’s dress, but Rarity wasn’t one to let to let a little thing like full-body coveralls stop her from designing the perfect outfit. Between the softness of her make-up, to the gorgeously cute up-do, to even the bow-tie that made her eyes pop, Sunset didn’t know what to do with herself. Really. Her arms felt all awkward and lanky all of the sudden. Were they supposed to be at her sides? Crossed? She didn’t have pockets. Should she have pretended she had pockets?

Fiddling with her hair, Twilight blushed through the slight rouge already highlighting her cheeks. “Good wow?”

Sunset nodded. “Beautiful.”

“Well.” Twilight cleared her throat to make it through the most adorable squeak. “You’re pretty wow yourself.”

They giggled at their own really bad joke. Bad jokes had kinda been their thing senior year. All their friends (except Pinkie, who knew the artistry of a properly bad joke) were dying slow painful deaths because of it. Half of what they said barely met the requirements for a joke, and a surprising amount of them were science-based. Sleep deprivation from staying up so late doing homework and texting made them crack up way too easily. And, as they’d later realize, crushing on someone can make a girl goofy.

Twilight got her wits back first. “Would going over your speech again make you less nervous? Practice usually calms me down.”

“Actually,” she said with a light smile, “I think just having you here helps.”

So that’s what a mental high-five feels like.

“That’s good,” Twilight said. “Because as your salutatorian, I’m supposed to stay by your side all night.”

At a later point in the relationship, Sunset would admit how uncharacteristically smooth that was. Then Twilight told her she hadn’t known they were flirting and lost all her points.

Still, it didn’t take her too long to clue in.

She went to work straightening Sunset’s blue and gold tie, which was definitely a ploy to get closer to her. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you have anything to be nervous about. You’re a great public speaker: confident, articulate. You shouldn’t have any problems. And if you do? You’ve got a lot of friends out there to pick up the slack. Plus, Rainbow Dash promised she’d start the wave if I messed up too bad in my speech.”

“I know, it’s just... we’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” She nodded her head toward the crowd that could be better described as their cheering section. Sunset smiled, looking down. “The old me would’ve used this as an opportunity to brainwash the student body and go on a power-crazed, cross-dimensional rampage.”

“And the old me wouldn’t have shown up.”

Sunset’s eyes flicked up to hers. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you would’ve been valedictorian if you hadn’t transferred in so late.”

Twilight, noticeably, didn’t step back when she was done with the tie. She shrugged. “My time at Crystal Prep wasn’t the most… personable. Giving a speech in front of all those students about all the great times we shared just sounds like a nightmare.”

“I can see how that’d be a little intimidating,” she said, nodding. “But I bet you still would’ve rocked it. Even if you had to improvise a few cherished memories and stuff it full of inspirational filler.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, laughing. “You have a lot of faith in me.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I do.”

“Why is that?” Twilight fiddled with the friendship bracelet Pinkie demanded all the girls wear. It was both cheesyandsymbolic. Something about how their friendships would all survive graduation. Whatever it meant, they weren’t allowed to take them off all night, and it only really gave Twilight something else to fidget with. “You’ve always had faith in me, even right after the Friendship Games when I turned into a demon. It’s not like I’d done anything to earn it. How could you be so sure?”

It only really dawned on Sunset now how close they were.

“Maybe because I’d been through it myself,” she said, speaking lower and moving just slightly closer. “But honestly? Because the more I got to know you, the more I felt like I’d met somebody special. Someone who just… trusted me, who could understand me in a way no one in the entire multi-verse could. And I wanted you to feel the same way about me.”

Twilight was moving closer, too. Her eyes dropped. “You make it sound like I didn’t.”

Their eyes met again and closed before Twilight Sparkle finally got a kiss. Perhaps not the most artful, and definitely not their best work in comparison to what was to come, but when all was said and done, they’d later decide magical was a good descriptor.

They separated when they heard Principal Celestia’s voice over the intercom. “And now, it’s my pleasure to introduce to you your valedictorian and salutatorian, Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle.”

They could hear the crowd absolutely erupt with cheers. Sunset heard a small noise like a gasp beside her. All that for two demons.

Sunset offered her hand. “Ready to lose some hearing?”

“Let’s.” Twilight took her hand in hers and they walked out together on stage.

No word of a lie, that had been one of the best nights of Sunset’s life. Not just because of the after-party, or their friends going berserk trying to congratulate them, but she finally felt like she had a future instead of a past.

Now, staring at the yellowed pages in front of her, she didn’t know a single thing about the future. The hoofsteps barreling towards her brought her back into the present like an alarm-clock dragging her out of a dream.

“Sunset!” Princess Twilight rushed toward her, full on galloping across the castle hall. “We have to figure something out. Now.”

Chapter 6 - House of the Rising Star

Twilight rushed through the library, pulling book after book with her. Sunset raced after her. “What are you looking for? We’ve tested her for every illness, malady, and syndrome in the book. There’s nothing left we can do.”

Twilight took the textbooks back over to what was by now their regular table. The pile of books flew in after, landing around her like a flock of birds. “Sunset, we’ve been thinking about this all wrong. All those doctors couldn’t find a single diagnosis, all we were doing was double-checking their work.”

Sunset came up the table and shook her head. “Well, what else were we supposed to do, just let her die?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, voice pressing for something. She had about twelve books open in front of her, her own eyes dodging back and forth with an agility Twilight herself could never dream of having. “Discord came to visit Celestia. He tried to heal her even though healing magic isn’t his forte. It didn’t work, not even a little. I couldn’t explain it. Discord’s one of the most powerful magic users there is. I was getting inconsolable until I started thinking about it.

“How could anything be too much for Discord to just snap better? I’ve seen him bend reality a hundred different ways without breaking so much as a sweat! There had to be something at work, something powerful. Or just powerfully resistant.” She managed to stop her reading long enough to look Sunset in the eyes. “It’s not biological, it’s magical.”

Sunset sighed, too tired for this. “Magical sicknesses were the first thing we tried, Twi.”

“Which was exactly the problem!” Apparently the Twilight she knew had taken a vacation because Sunset couldn’t imagine her shouting in a library if her life counted on it. “Celestia’s not sick. It has to be some spell mimicking sickness or-or maybe even some kind of new magic.”

“You mean—” Sunset came around and sat at her end of the table and spoke in a hush. “You’re talking treason. You’re telling me somepony cast this on her? What kind of powerful unicorn would do that? Who would even have it out for her? Even I didn’t hate her that much—and I hated her.”

Twilight matched Sunset’s volume. “I know, I know, but that’s why we didn’t think of it. It’s inconceivable to rational ponies to do something like this to the Princess—but it makes sense. Why else would she come down with something this bad this suddenly?”

She slammed the Curious Curse Compendium between them. Sunset stared at it, eyes ballooning.

“It’s a curse!” they said together. Luckily, the library wasn’t busy that day, and that they had special privileges here. With Twilight being a Princess, the royal library was as good as hers.

Sunset took the book in her magic and fled through the pages. “You think there’s really a curse powerful enough to do this?”

“I’ve seen curses powerful enough to make an empire disappear for a thousand years. Well, I guess that wording’s a little contradictory, but the point is, this could actually be what’s wrong with her.”

Sunset cracked it open and flipped to the back—the most potent stuff. It took a few minutes, and Twilight came up beside her to speed-read the other half of the page-spread until Twilight stabbed the page. “There! There!” She tapped Sunset’s shoulder and read aloud, “Little Drop of Poison. It’s a curse that shuts down the body’s functions one by one until the victim’s inevitable demise. 'Can be combined with Lock and Key to hide symptoms!'”

“That’s it!” Sunset shook Twilight’s shoulder.

“That’s it!” she shouted, tackling Sunset in a hug. “Oh, Celestia! We did it!”

“Wait,” Sunset grabbed the book in her hooves. “What’s the cure? It doesn’t list the cure.”

“It’s okay,” Twilight said, beaming, lowering the book. “I have a Zebra friend who’s a very powerful shaman, we can write to her and get the answer as fast as the Royal Mail-pony can bring it!” She laughed. “We can use the urgent mail system.”

Twilight teleported a scroll in from her bedroom and went to work penning a letter for the ages. In that time, Sunset sat back, the smile on her face growing less and less genuine.

Twilight found the cure almost all by herself. Why does that matter? You’re seriously that self-centered and desperate for attention that you care?

Twilight discovered the real cause. Twilight found the Curse Compendium. She even found the curse itself, for Pete’s sake. So bucking what? What kind of pony cares about that?

Maybe she hadn’t changed.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Twilight said, taking a real breath for the first time in weeks. She looked positively serene writing that letter. “Zecora will get back to us as fast as she can. We’ll have our cure by the end of the day at the latest and we don't even have to leave her side for a minute.”

“Good,” Sunset murmured. Her tone caught Twilight’s attention, and she cursed herself for sounding anything like she felt.

“What’s wrong?”

Before she could stop herself from making this all about her she asked, “Twilight, have I changed? I mean actually changed like I couldn’t ever go back to who I was.”

Twilight lowered her quill. “I don’t understand. Why would you ask?”

Sunset shook her head. “I’m sorry. That came out of nowhere, I know. It’s just Princess Luna and I were talking and… I don’t know. Some feelings were just brought up again. It’s been an emotional few days. It just kinda hit me.”

Princess Twilight put a wing around her. “You don't need to worry. You’re a completely different pony, Sunset. Trust me. I couldn’t be more proud of how far you’ve come.”

From that point on, Twilight went back to penning the letter, but Sunset couldn’t stop hearing her say those words. Like she really was just Twilight’s student. She couldn’t deny that it left a pit in her stomach the size of a bowling ball. And the fact that it did burned in her because she knew that feeling.

She'd felt it on the worst day of her life, and what she guessed had to be the best of Twilight's.

The bells rung around Canterlot that day. The streets, overrun with ponies. Confetti rained down from the high towers as if from the clouds or gods themselves, and cheers blared all around.

Still vain enough to assume she needed a cloak and hood for disguise, she'd found her place among the crowd in the south courtyard, far enough back that she was sure Celestia wouldn't find her face in the sea of ponies. The distance was also strategic. Earlier that day, she'd exploded on and hospitalized the pony who told her about the coronation to begin with. The thoughts and urges she had on the ride over made hanging back the smarter option in the long-run.

But standing there amidst a crowd, waiting with the common-folk while the crowning went on inside the throne room far above, she second-guessed her decision. She let her emotions get the better of her. She should've been in there, gathering intel. That's all she was here for.

An angelic chorus sounded out from above as eight figures walked out onto the balcony. With her neck craned up, Sunset's heart plunged. The roaring of the crowd deafened her, but in memory, the world was silent. Three alicorns stood at the front. Princess Luna, Princess Celestia, and between them, a face she'd only spied on from afar. A face she'd seen by Celestia's side and under her watch for years, one she kept thinking would be forgotten, cast aside.

One who waved with wings spread, held beneath Celestia's wing draped over her back. Seeing it, she could remember, or maybe imagine how those feathers felt on her own.

Every breath either stayed thin or stuttered and broke apart before she could reach the bottom of her lungs. The force of it cramped the muscles in her forehead. The tears dribbling off Sunset's chin made the inside of her hood damp. Her journal buzzed at her side dragging her back to the Royal Canterlot Archives, sitting across from Princess Twilight still writing that letter. With the other Twilight waiting on a response.

A sick feeling started in her throat when she realized Princess Cadence was right. Whatever she thought of Twilight, any Twilight, it was up to her perception, but if she couldn’t see Twilight as anything but her sister, that was it, then.

The relationship couldn’t possibly last.

Some time later, while Princess Twilight was busy returning the dozens of books she’d taken from the shelves, Sunset forced herself to open the journal. She re-read Twilight’s message, along with the new addition:

So? Would you like to move in together?

And then, Take your time if you’re busy with the Princess. I can wait.

Holding her heavy, aching forehead in her hoof, Sunset brought a quill towards the page and let it hover there. The sand in the hourglass in the Starswirl the Bearded wing coursed on, seething through the funnel. The quill’s tip waited for instruction. She put it aside and closed the book. The least she could was break-up with her in-person.

The doors to the library burst open, slamming the walls on either side. Somewhere buried in aisle after aisle of books, as she tended to be, Twilight’s voice rose. “Cadance? Luna?”

Sunset scraped her chair against the floor and scrambled over to where the voices came from. The part of her that was still a sociopath whispered evil nothings to her. That they were too late, that this was it. That they came to tell them Princess Celestia was dead.

She bounded round the last corner and found them by the hourglass gleaming with sunlight. Great. Some pathetic fallacy for the worst moment of my life. Love it. She tried her best to ignore herself. “What is it? What’s going on?”

Twilight held her hooves out. “It’s okay. It’s just princess business. The three of us are being called to an emergency conference with the Zebras. It’s absolutely mandatory.”

Dropping her shoulders, Sunset sighed. “Oh. Okay.” Her brow furrowed. “Wait, the three of you? Not Princess Celestia?”

The princesses exchanged glances. Princess Luna frowned, as she was apt to do. Sunset was pretty convinced that was her natural state of being. Definitely a nasty case of resting night demon face. “Strange indeed.”

“You don’t think word somehow got out, do you?” Cadence asked, standing between them.

The way Twilight bit her cheeks and started to sweat to a cartoonish degree, Sunset could guess who she was thinking of. She highly doubted it. She couldn’t even imagine how Starlight and Trixie would even manage to mess up that badly. And speaking from experience as an ex-villain herself, even Trixie, at her absolute worst, was mostly just petty. And Starlight was more likely to break reality than a promise to keep quiet. Besides, even putting aside the fact that neither of them would know how to get in contact with world leaders and diplomats, why in Equestria would they tell the zebras before the ponies?

“We can cross that bridge when we come to it,” Twilight said, wings fidgeting at her sides. “In the meantime, you two should go ahead. I’ll come as soon as I can, but Sunset and I are waiting on a letter that could potentially give us the cure.”

She filled them in on everything, and Sunset sort of blanked it out. Next thing she knew, she and Twilight were sitting outside Celestia’s chamber. Once they got a hold of that letter, they could get to work immediately and have a healthy immortal princess before dinner. Neither of them wanted to leave the castle to teleport to Zecora's just in case anything happened while they were gone, but that did mean they had to wait on snail-mail.

In the meantime, she and Twilight had company waiting for them, perched atop the torch. When Sunset saw her again, an involuntary smile lifted the corners of her mouth. They did have some time to kill, and she would’ve taken any distraction she could get. Sunset and Twilight could be bird nerds together.

Twilight outright gasped when she told her. “I didn’t know Philomena was yours!”

Hooves sizzling as she gave her phoenix pets, Sunset smirked. “Yep. Found and raised her myself—with a little help from the Princess every now and then. This little bugger had a nasty habit of setting my school books on fire. She made me sound like such a liar. I was lying about other things, for sure, but that one was totally her fault.”

“How did you even learn how to take care of a phoenix?” Twilight reached out to touch Philomena’s feathers and scalded herself. “Gah! She’s so hot!”

Sunset grinned. “Well she is a phoenix, you know.”

Twilight stared at Sunset’s hoof, which was now being snuggled and nuzzled as if Philomena were a cat. “How can you stand it? It’s like being cuddled by a cast-iron stove.”

Shrugging, she pet Philomena down the length of her back. “Phoenixes need a lot of attention, especially mine.” The insulted bird pecked at her like a brat. “I guess I’m used to it.”

Twilight’s eyelids fell to half-mast. “Numbed, some call it.”

“At least hooves are a lot less sensitive than hands. This would kill if she turns out to be this fiery over in the other world.” At first, it was great imagining taking her home at long last. Then she remembered what she was going home to, and her smile faltered.

Unfortunately Twilight hadn’t become the Princess of Friendship by ignoring when a friend was trying to hide something. “Are you okay?”

Sunset bristled. “I don’t know. I don’t feel like talking about it if that’s okay.”

“Are you sure? Because if there’s anything I’ve had to learn, it’s—”

“I’m not really in the mood for a friendship lesson, either,” she grunted and then muttered, “That came out wrong.”

“Is it something to do with your marefriend?” Sunset flinched. “Sorry. None of my business. It’s just that I know you two have been messaging back and forth in the journal, and you looked really upset back in the library.”

“Ponyfeathers. You saw that?” Receiving a guilty grin, Sunset heaved a sigh, “Look. I’m sorry, alright? It’s my problem. I’ll deal with it. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It… sort of sounds like I did,” she said, ears folding.

“Well, you didn’t, okay? Stop worrying about it.”

Princess Twilight looked like she had something to say but never got around to it as the royal messenger catapulted through the halls, panting. “Your urgent message, lady Sparkle!”

Sunset grunted. “Lady Sparkle?” If she were in a better mood, she’d laugh her tail off. Best to log that one away for later. If she was still a little evil, anyway, might as well take advantage of a golden opportunity.

Lady Sparkle blushed. “They never just use my name.” She spoke a little louder, taking the letter in her magic. “Thank you for your timeliness. I’m sure Princess Celestia thanks you, too. You’ll be rewarded handsomely.”

The pegasus mail pony bowed, said his thanks, and buzzed off in flurry of feathers and letters. Sunset wasn’t entirely sure all those would get delivered to the right place. At least from the look of Twilight’s face, they’d gotten the right one. Just not how they wanted it.

Eyes darting, Twilight’s face fell further and further into the opposite of what they’d hoped for. It was like Twilight had been transported to her own funeral, only to find more and more morbid, personal details—her favourite flowers, the eulogies, who showed up, who didn’t—and was then plopped back into her normal life. Nopony could just ignore a prophecy that prolific.

Sunset stood up and held her own shoulder. “Please tell me there’s a cure.”

“There is,” she said, letter lowering to her side, “but we might be too late to use it.”

At this point, Philomena hopped onto her forehoof, and she did a piss-poor job keeping that sting out of her voice. “Twilight, what do you mean?”

Twilight’s forehead crumpled like the pages of an old book. “We weren’t fast enough. Zecora thinks she’s already progressed into the late stages of the curse! Even if we act now, there’s no telling if it’ll work. She’s dying.”

“We knew she was dying when we started,” Sunset spat, practically seething and wavering on her hooves. The only other sound in these overlarge halls was the crackle of burning torches. So even if there wasn’t exactly an echo, the more they rose their voices, the more powerful they sounded. It reminded Sunset of the first time she’d had a bout of road-rage in driving school’s practice car back in Canterlot City. The acoustics of an enclosed space like that made shouting so much more satisfying. Weirdly enough, a place as big and quiet as the castle had the same effect. Getting angry here sounded like it mattered more. She brought herself back enough to say, “That doesn’t matter.”

“But… I-I have to go.” A flush made the pinks of Twilight’s eyes look even pinker. Her eyes started to smolder in the angry light of the sunset beaming through the slender windows.

Sunset sighed, hoof up to her face wishing she had fingers to pinch her muzzle. “Okay. Fine. Great. I’ll do it myself then.”

“No. No, no, no, no no, no, no,” Twilight babbled, starting to pant, “I can’t leave Princess Celestia if she’s dying. Oh no. No, no, I can’t. I can’t do this, I can—I might never see her again. What if I never see her again? I can’t—I can’t—I can’t—” Gasping in between breaths, she started to shake. “I don’t want to see her die again, I don’t want to leave—”

“Twilight, stop panicking! I can do this!” Philomena flew behind Sunset and onto her back if the heat was anything to go by. Whenever the phoenix was anxious, she burned brighter, which meant Sunset’s back was basically broiling, and she couldn’t feel the messy tears streaking down her cheek. “Go be a princess! I’mnotgoing to let her die! Let me do this!”

Even if she was still shaking, Twilight went abnormally still. “Sunset,” she breathed. “What—”

The hallway started to feel less real when the white hot twisting feeling on her back turned into an unbearable, vision-narrowing eating.

“Horseapples!” Sunset lurched away, thrust back, and slammed against the door. She sagged around it like a rag-doll on a shelf. Puffing out her cheeks, she tried to house a growl the size of the entire castle. “Mmmmmmm.”

Twilight galloped over. “Sunset! Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she rasped, heaving a breath. Using her magic, she took the letter from Twilight. Then, she put everything behind her eyes. “Go.”

After a moment of drinking in that intensity, Twilight nodded and fled out down the hall until Sunset couldn’t hear her hoof-steps anymore. Sunset let her head fall back against the door, wheezing. A vertigo put the entire city of Canterlot on ever-changing slants, and the patterns in the carpet spun like a coordinated dance-sequence.

“Breathe deeply.” The fireplace crackled. Princess Celestia walked around her, if her voice was anything to judge by. “Focus on letting go. Relax every muscle you have.”

A preteen Sunset scowled at that even with her eyes shut. “I liked karate better…”

The voice revolved around her, blocking out the firelight. “And you can practice karate when you can control your anger. You’re too aggressive.”

Her mouth twitched. “It’s fighting. Fighting is aggression. You’re punishing me because I’m doing it well.”

“Meditation isn’t a punishment, Sunset. Some would call it nourishment.” She stopped. “Or, perhaps you’d rather think of it as a tool. Breathing is an extension of control. Use it effectively, and you can command your reality.”

At the time, Sunset thought it was ponyfeathers, but mandatory ponyfeathers. Right now, it was the only thing keeping her from passing out.

When she managed to stop the world from spinning, she gave the letter a sidelong glance. It took her a while to focus on the words, but when she did, she drew her brow together.

It took a bit of effort, but Sunset got back on her hooves, the cure in her magical grasp, and opened the door to Princess Celestia’s chamber. She had a fire to start.

Chapter 7 - Fall of the Burning Sun

Oils, elixirs, brews, and potions. It couldn’t just be one thing, could it? The ingredients took some searching for. In fact, she lost about four and a half hours running around the city finding all the right ingredients. By the time she was ready to even begin, the fire had burned low, and she had to start a new one.

In other news, the observatory wasn’t her favourite place in the castle anymore. She’d give anything to be sitting around the hearth taking lessons again. Instead of her mentor’s soothing, infuriatingly calm voice, Sunset had to listen to her struggling to pull in every breath.

The cauldron, focus on the cauldron. Scanning the haul of supplies spread out around her, Sunset grabbed the vial of Heart’s Repair and the eye of newt substitute. “Stay with me, okay? Don’t fall asleep, I’ll never be able to concentrate if you start snoring.”

Celestia didn’t respond.

Sunset went back to work. Everything had such a specific time and proportion. Potion-making wasn’t her strongest suit. She’d always had a knack for basic elixirs, but anything this advanced took skill to put together. One wrong move, a single drop out of line, and the entire pot was as good as worthless. She wouldn’t know for sure unless it worked, and she wouldn’t know if it couldn’t work if she slipped up.

It took all of her focus on concentration. The heat made her sweat and the burn on her back sting to the point that her hooves shook. Or maybe that was nerves. She couldn’t tell. She couldn’t feel below her knees.

Partway through, she caught a drop of her own sweat in her magic before it hit the pot. Note to self: Stop leaning over the only thing that could save Celestia’s life.

Towards the very end of the instructions, Twilight’s zebra friend wrote that it needed to boil over the fire for ten minutes before the last few things could be added. At which point, she nearly collapsed backwards before she realized that would be very, very painful. She settled for sitting back on her haunches, watching the fire and the hourglass she’d flipped beside it. Ten minutes.

A hushed rasp rose up from behind her. “Where’s Twilight?”

Sunset stiffened. She turned back toward the bed. “She had to go to a conference with Luna and Cadance. Some princess work. I think they’re covering for you.”

The fire crackled. “I’m very fortunate… to have ponies I can depend on. Aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Sunset sighed, staring back into the fire.

“I hope you know you’re included in that, Sunset.”

She desperately hoped the princess hadn’t heard anything in her voice. “I know.”

“Then why don’t you act like you know?” She took a moment to gather her breath before going on. “I’ve missed you since we reunited, but I was at peace… knowing we had made amends. But, you still feel you needed to apologize. You’re still… trying to prove yourself to me.”

Sunset shrugged, staring into the fire. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just got a lot to live up to.”

“You never had to live up to me, Sunset.”

“Not you,” she told her, getting quiet. She sighed, letting her head drop into a bow. “Twilight.”

She watched the flames bat endlessly at the black iron of the cauldron to no avail. The air around it bent and wavered. She grimaced. “I hate that I’m still petty enough to constantly be comparing myself to her, but I can’t help it. She’s your faithful student. And I’ve done some amazing things with the help of my friends, but nothing can compare to being a princess. Not after everything I did trying to be one myself. I’ve come to peace with all of that, but it still doesn’t erase the things I’ve done. How I needed Twilight’s help. And… well, I-I’m dating her. Not this Twilight, the one in the other dimension. She’s the girl I told you about.”

Princess Celestia had a hint of a laugh in her beaten down voice. “Well, I certainly approve of your taste.”

Sunset made something between a snort and a scoff. “Thanks.”

“I’m happy for you, but...” Celestia took her time, breathing through the rattling thing that replaced her throat. “Why would you keep this from me?”

“I’ve been having trouble recently keeping the two of them separate in my head, and it wouldn’t be so messed up if this world’s Twilight wasn’t essentially my little sister.”

Celestia took a second with that one. “You know she’s not, right?”

“Obviously I know that, but if you’re my mom and she’s my sister… then I’m the black-sheep.” She dropped her hooves to the floor. She let out a breath. “I can’t live up to Twilight. No matter what I do, I’ll never be a princess. I don’t even want to be one anymore. I don’t care about being better than her, but nothing I do can ever be as great as everything she's done. And that’s just… a really awful way to feel about your best friend. And, I’m scared if I keep thinking of them as the same, then sooner or later I’ll start to feel that way about my girlfriend and her accomplishments.”

“I hope you realize… you and Twilight were always separate in my mind. I learned from the mistakes I made… how I hurt you… because I finally stopped trying to correct for my past. I could see what Twilight needed. Not what you needed… and never got.” The breath that came next rolled out instead of being dragged by force. “Immortals live long enough to outlive a thousand lifetimes, but sometimes we forget we’re not trapped in one long gone. And I’m sorry I didn’t learn that soon enough to help you… how you needed to be helped.”

“Hey. I thought we said no more apologies.” Sunset turned back to smile at her, eyes shining. “If we keep this up, that’s all we’ll ever say to each other.”

“You’re right,” she said, wheezing. Her white chest veiled her expanding and falling ribs, but not by much. "We're stuck in a cycle, aren't we? That might be my fault. Perhaps, I should tell you something else."

When the rest didn't come, Sunset came up by her bedside and held her sunken, shallow-looking gaze, halfway to falling closed. It took Celestia some time to pull for air, and standing over like this, infinitely more powerful, Sunset realized she'd gotten what she wanted. "I know you weren't trying to replace me, it just..." The tears flowed at a gentle pace, like a warm touch. "It felt like it."

“I’m proud of you, Sunset," she breathed, forehead wrinkling, "I thought you knew.”

Holding her around her neck, Sunset shut her eyes. "Yeah, well... I dunno," she said, her raspy voice swinging and crashing apart. "I didn't want to just assume I deserved you being proud of me."

"You deserve it."

When the timer ran out, Sunset went straight back to work. Heart’s Refrain, Aloe Extract, and just a smidge of parsley on top. When she was done, she blew out the fire with a sweep of breeze magic. She stirred it just once more and dunked a chalice into the brew. One cup full, and she’d have her answer.

Without rushing enough to spill, she hurried towards Celestia’s bedside, finding her way by candlelight. She had to help her sit up enough to drink, but Celestia drank of this weird bubbling brew until the cup was empty.

After, the room was obscenely quiet. Sunset waited at her bedside for more than a few long, dark, extended minutes. And it went on entirely too long. Eventually, Sunset bit her lip before she sighed, unevenly. “I did everything I could.”

“You certainly have,” Celestia said, smiling to her. “I suppose that means I should hold up my end of the bargain. Although, I should really meet this girl before I give you away to her. I hear she’s nothing like the Twilight I know.”

Sunset laughed. “I don’t know. They’re both my best friend so…”

At first very faintly, but soon unmistakably, a golden hue formed around the princess. It grew brighter and brighter, filling out her coat, illuminating her hair, and filling her eyes with a pure, white power. The glow grew brighter and brighter until Sunset had to look away, and still couldn’t shake the sun-spots off her eyes. Then, the shine vanished. Drawing in a long, deep breath, Princess Celestia smiled.

She rose from her bed and held her surrogate daughter.

Sunset didn’t know anything warmer than a hug from the princess of the sun aside from maybe feeling her impeccably relaxed voice through her chest. “You know, saving a princess is no small feat. If saving two dimensions and reuniting me with my daughter wasn’t already impressive enough.”

“What can I say? I’ve got high standards.”

Sunset wasn’t usually an early-riser, but she could make an exception every now and then. Watching the sunrise over Canterlot was definitely worth one of those. Even if she’d broken another alarm clock.

The balcony from Princess Celestia’s room had the best view of the eastern sky in all of Equestria. The rest of the view wasn’t too shabby, either. The city below chirped with potential on the brink of daybreak, painted a perfectly pleasant periwinkle blue. Gentle breezes hoarding the last bit of summer warmth caressed her coat, and she sighed along with them.

The other three members of the royal family got in late last night and had their reunions while she’d been asleep. That was fine with her. They deserved their moments with her. It just meant she’d get to hear about it when they talked again.

Perhaps to prove she’d developed some psychic powers of her own, Twilight opened the doors behind her just when Sunset wanted to see her. Sunset let her walk up, too comfortable with her head and hooves resting on the guard rail.

Twilight, for her part, sat down beside her and latched onto her, with a hug, careful not to hold Sunset by the burn. “Thank you so much, Sunset.”

Sunset shrugged but kept a bit of smugness in her smile. “It was a team effort.”

They let go, but Twilight was clearly holding onto something. She put her hooves up on the railing and didn’t take long to admit, “It’s all my fault.”

“Twi, we went over this. You had to go. I’m pretty sure the zebras would’ve started a war if they felt disrespected like that. Trust me, I’ve pissed off a few dignitaries in my day. They tend not to be forgiving.”

“Not that,” she said, head bowing along with her ears. “I’m the reason Princess Celestia was cursed to begin with.”

Sunset jerked her head back. “What? No way. That can’t be true.”

“It is. The zebras told us themselves. That’s why they called us to an emergency conference. They apologized and gave us the cure to take home with us. They only meant to curse her with bad luck for a few moons, not kill her.”

“Oh, sure,” she said, glaring into the horizon, “so a minor mistake that anypony could’ve made. Because you totally keep the spell for bad luck right next to the slow, painful death curse.”

“It was a miscommunication between the Chief Shaman and the Elder Zebra, rhyming makes it hard to be clear. But all of that only happened because I totally botched our last meeting. I was so bad they felt like I was disrespecting them on purpose! If she died, it would’ve been all my fault.” Leaning forward, her head sunk into her hooves. “Some Princess of Friendship I turned out to be.”

Somewhere, Princess Celestia took to the sky and powered up her horn. The brilliant, warming light began its steady rise over Equestria.

After a beat, Sunset smiled. She threw a hoof around her but made sure to be gentle with movement, thanks to the bandages around the burn on her back. “Hey, take it from an ex-she-demon who almost murdered her would-be best friends: we all make mistakes.”

Now in the glow of morning light, a little smile poked up the end of Twilight’s mouth, too. “Still, I should probably be a little better at my job by now. Did I ever tell you I caused a war with the yaks for a few hours?”

Sunset snorted. “How do you cause a war for a few hours?”

“You get Pinkie Pie to smooth things over when she comes back.”

“Of course,” she started, shaking her head. Both of them knew exactly what to say next: “Pinkie Pie.”

After which point, they broke out laughing like little school fillies. Between that, the new day’s sun, and the mild morning air, the last of the stress from the past week melted right away. Although, once they got that through their systems, Twilight did have an eyebrow raised. “Okay, now I’ve gotta know. How did you do that thing with the fire wings?”

Sunset stared at her and bent her neck.

“You know,” she said, making her hooves flap at her sides despite the fact that she had actual wings she could’ve demonstrated with, “the flaming wings you had right before you told me to go? You nearly passed out because of them.”

Sunset’s eyes twitched back and forth before widening. “Oh, you meant Philomena. Yeah, she likes to perch on my back sometimes, but she doesn’t always know when to get off.”

Twilight shook her head. “Philomena was on the torch beside the throne room, it had nothing to do with her. You mean you didn’t know about the giant flaming wings that sprouted out of your back?”

At first, Sunset continued to stare at Twilight like she’d become Discord. But then it hit her. “Wait. Hang on, that sounds like something that happened to me at the Friendship Games.” She stared at her own hooves. “But, that can’t be it. I only turned into Daydream because of the magic of friendship.”

“Daydream?”

Sunset blushed. “The girls decided on names afterward. It wasn’t my call. But, come to think of it, Daydream wasn’t just a pair of wings. My mane wasn’t glowing and all float-y, right?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not really.”

“Then it can’t be her…” Sunset bit her lip. “There was one other time I grew wings. A month or two before the Friendship Games, actually. I was on the roof of Canterlot High, thinking about a lot of things, and I don’t know, just watching the sunrise. It was pretty peaceful. I came to terms with some stuff from my past, thinking about my friends, and then boom, fire wings.” She took a look back at her withers. “Although it didn’t really hurt so much back then.”

“Amazing!” Twilight said, circling around her. “You think it could’ve been the magic of friendship protecting you before?”

“That’s your answer to everything.”

Twilight shrugged, grinning. “It’s the best answer I’ve found.”

“Touché.” Sunset stopped, then raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Twilight was staring like a goof. “So, are you gonna try to, you know… flame on?”

“Well it kinda made me almost pass out last time, and that’s when I had adrenaline rushing through me.” After about a millisecond, Sunset grunted and muttered, “So that’s what peer pressure looks like.” She waved her hoof at her. “Fine. Just step back, will you?”

“Try to feel grateful for your friends, that might help.”

“Oh, I’m feeling something for my friends,” she said, feeling the severe burn already on her back.

Sunset took a deep draw of the air until her lungs were all but full and let it go. She was in control. And like it or not, she loved her stupid peer-pressuring friends. Breathing a short breath out, Sunset felt a heat tear at her back again. Only this time, it wasn’t devouring her coat and skin so much as making the burn already there ache from exposure to the heat. But even that wasn’t so bad when she realized, “I’ve… I’ve got wings!”

“You’ve got magical fire wings!” Twilight said through a laugh, face beaming both literally and figuratively in the light of Sunset’s new appendages. She also clapped her hooves, as if she were watching a particularly good magic show. “Sunset, this is absolutely—”

“Remarkable.” Princess Celestia’s impressed voice landed with her on the balcony behind them. “It looks like you’ve earned your wings, after all.”

Actual clowns might’ve made the expression on Sunset’s face as a goofy mockery of pure joy. She tried to laugh, folding her wings against her side. “Yeah.” She smiled at Twilight. “We both have.”

When Sunset came out the other side of the portal, she swore her complaints had been heard. No vomit-inducing dizziness to make her stumble. Maybe Starlight really had taken her word for it and done something to fix it. She’d have to buy her and her soon-to-be-marefriend a drink next time she went home for a visit.

The lack of vertigo made it easier to walk straight up to her rambling girlfriend. “Are you okay? Is the Princess alright? Is everything—”

Sunset took her by the shoulders and kissed her deeply. Admittedly, the first few times they’d tried the whole interrupt-my-girlfriend-with-a-kiss move it hadn’t gone so well, but these days Twilight usually caught onto when one of those was coming. Or at least, she relaxed enough to let a proper make-out session happen.

When Sunset pulled away, a little out of breath, she told her with her most charming smile (or what she thought was her most charming smile), “Yes. Let’s move in together.”

Twilight pushed up her glasses, a little out of breath herself. “D’uh, okay. Sure. Yeah. Let’s move in together. I’d like that.”

Smirking, she pulled her hands together around Twilight’s waist, bringing her closer. “Sorry it took me so long to reply. I couldn’t really do that with a message.”

“Forget about that,” she said, although clearly still flustered and not forgetting about it, “what happened with Princess Celestia? Is she…?”

“She’s fine. I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, I just want to hold you for a while.” She brought her arms up, closer to an appropriate place, and relaxed into her.

Twilight’s arms snaked up around Sunset’s torso, squeezed, and…

Sunset didn’t remember the next part. Apparently, she swore (although where Twilight would get the idea that she was a potty-mouth, she had no clue). The next thing she knew, she was lying on her stomach in her apartment, the air-conditioning unit in her window blowing cool air on her back. Her bare back.

Through a fuzzier version of her voice, hoping she wasn’t blushing as hard as she felt she was, Sunset croaked, “Twilight?”

Footsteps pounded down the hall and around the corner into the room. Even if she couldn’t see the red in her eyes, Sunset winced at the wet sound of her voice. “You’re awake! Oh, thank god! I didn’t know what to do, the hospital would need a health card, an insurance number, something! Why didn’t you tell me about the burn? What happened to you?” When Sunset tried to get up, Twilight stopped her by the shoulder. “Please, don’t agitate it. I think it might be a third-degree.”

Sunset’s head hit the pillow sideways again, cheek smushed up against it. Her eyebrows shot up. “That bad?”

Twilight plopped down in Sunset’s desk chair, doing her best not to swivel while at the same time bouncing her legs. “Well, I-I don’t know. I’m not a doctor, and it’s not quite the same as a self-diagnosis but it’s pretty close and where did that even come from? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Without moving enough to make Twilight worry, Sunset propped herself up on her elbows. Not by much, but enough for her boobs to be tantalizingly out of sight. “You half-undressed me while I was passed out. I’m pretty sure I have more of a right to be upset in this situation than you do.”

Thankfully, she had a good view of Twilight’s broken, blushing face. “That’s—I-I was trying to figure out why passed out to begin with. I was treating your possibly-third-degree burn! And… you’re changing the subject, aren’t you?”

“Trying to,” she said, shrugging and hugging her pillow. “The flaming wings are kind of hard to explain. I don’t really don’t how they work yet.” For that explanation, she needed to back up a bit. She ended up telling the whole story. All of it. Including the observatory, Moon Dancer (for which she received a laugh because apparently Twilight had briefly had a schoolyard crush on this world's Moon Dancer), as well as the unseemly insinuation that the other Twilight briefly felt like a sister. And, just hypothetically, her. Which, again, totally hypothetically, made Sunset consider breaking up. She kind of rushed to the conclusion after that part, but it let her get to the whole my-back-was-literally-on-fire bit much sooner.

By the time she was through, Twilight had wrapped her bandages around her again, this time with her burn decently treated. Admittedly, it was all still pretty tender, and lying down still felt right, but she managed to finish the story while Twilight got out a shirt for her.

Twilight’s eyes had a light behind them. “Wow, Sunset, that’s—Oh! Hang on, wait here!”

“As opposed to?” Sunset shouted at the door after Twilight ran out of it. She sighed into her gray pillowcase. When Twilight had an idea, she could be so single-minded. It was adorable, for sure, but also a tad frustrating. With a bit too much effort getting up, she picked out the teal shirt with the black sleeves and pulled it over her head.

When Twilight came back, she had a tiny yellow and red canary perched on her fingers and a tiny smile perched on her lips. “I believe this is yours.”

At first Sunset did nothing but raise an eyebrow, sitting back on the bed. Then the bird flapped over and pecked at her and she outright gasped. “Philomena?”

Twilight sat next to her, making the mattress bounce. “She came with you through the portal.”

Sunset chuckled, nervously giving her bird tiny pets. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, she did. I brought her. I just sorta forgot when I saw you—in my defense I really, really missed you—and I didn’t get a chance to get a good look at her.” She smiled her apology to her bird, which could totally still care about apologies, being a bird. “Canary yellow suits you.”

Philomena trilled at that and hopped a little too sassily.

Sunset looked at her girlfriend. “I know it’s not the same as introducing you to my mom—and we’ll get there. Soon. I promise. But, uh, Philomena’s pretty important to me.”

Twilight giggled and leaned against Sunset’s shoulder. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you Philomena. I’m Twilight Sparkle.”

Sunset held up a hand around her mouth, speaking to the bird. “Told you she was cool.”

After laughing, Twilight whispered in her own cone of semi-silence. “Thanks for vouching for me.”

“Anytime, Sparky,” she said, which earned her a kiss on the cheek. Not long after, though, she looked around her room, and the smile on her lips dipped slightly. Twilight’s dorm was closer to Canterlot High, wasn’t it? “What made you bring me here?”

“You passed out on top of me, I had to do something. So, I guess the next place I could think of was just to take you home, so I could freak-out properly without the whole town staring at you and trying to call you ambulances,” she told her, but the pointed half-eyed stare lessened when she saw the way Sunset was smiling. After a moment where Sunset could see the reviewing process take place, Twilight broke out a smile, too. “Your place?”

“My place it is,” Sunset said in the huskiest range of her voice and as sleazily as possible.

Twilight giggle-snorted and dropped her forehead onto Sunset’s shoulder.

Sunset was fine with that. But there was just one more thing she wasn’t okay with, and it was a big one. When Twilight calmed down again, she rested her head on hers. “Twi? You said you’ve been thinking about asking me for months. Was it really that hard to ask me to move in with you? You know I would’ve said yes, right?”

There was a huge pause after that. “In my defense, when I did ask finally you, you had a mini-crisis and started comparing me to Princess Twilight.”

“Okay, I think I’ve gotta make this clearer.” She guided her finger so that Philomena could hop over to the lampshade on her bedside table. Sunset took Twilight’s hands and made sure their eyes met. “That had nothing to do with this.” She took a moment to gather all the words together. “Look, it’s okay to be scared. If I’m honest, there’s a small part of me that is, too. I’ve never really loved someone like I love you, and up until recently, I've managed to mess up everything good in my life for selfish or just plain stupid reasons. For the longest time, I thought I was a screw up. I'm still so used to thinking like that, it's easy to see myself ruining this, too.

“So, maybe we’re scared together. Which is totally fine. But, only as long as we know that this time there’s no real reason to be. I don’t even know if I actually had a thing for you when we met, but it doesn’t matter. The day we met isn’t what makes me love you. It’s every day that came after.” She took Twilight’s cheek in her hand, grinning because she knew she was a on a roll. “Camp Everfree, Graduation. That time we accidentally stayed up until the sun came up just talking on the phone. When I was sick, and you wouldn’t stop bringing me medicine, and just finding excuses to check in on me. I mean, Princess Twilight’s my best friend, and no offense to her, but she just can’t give me all of that.”

Careful not to touch her burn, Twilight put her arms around Sunset’s shoulders. She was clearly crying, but she at least attempted sass. “Been practicing that one?”

“So long as you don’t ask Philomena? Not at all, totally off-the-cuff response.”

Muffled into Sunset’s shoulder, Twilight told her, “You’re such a liar.”

“Hey,” Sunset said, laughing, “I never said I was perfect, did I?”

Author's Note

And then smooches happened.

Special thanks to my editor Space Jazz, consultant for the first chapter Philomenal, the cover-artist Kiki-Kit, and LittleNightwing, my best friend who let me pitch this entire story to her. Without you, I don't think this project would've turned out like it did, if at all.

I'd also like to give some thanks to all the authors who've made Sunlight stories. That's right, all of you. In particular, Dubs Rewatcher for The Nightmare I Need, The Albinocorn for Sunlight, and especially Bookish Delight for Courage and Change. Oh, and don't think I forgot about you, Space Jazz. I somehow never stumbled across The Sunlight Project or its sequel, The Sunlight Theory, before you started editing for me, but A Game of Inches is a classic in my mind (that line on the ice where Sunset's talking about her high heels definitely counts as a nod to that story). And it technically hasn't gotten to the Sunlight yet (if that's really where it's going), but MrAskAPirate's writing a story called One Night in Canterlot that demands to be read.

Oh, and if I didn't mention Fractured Sunlight by Oroboro I think I'd be breaking a law somewhere (I'm actually reading it for the first time now and in summary: how dare you).

I say all this because these are the stories that inspired me most (in fact, this last scene, with Twilight treating Sunset's burn, is a reversal of a scene in one of those stories, as both an homage and... well, an excuse to set the scene back in Sunset's apartment, I guess; there's also a sort of reference to Courage and Change in the first chapter when Sunset calls Sci-Twi "so damn precious"-- the word choice is pretty specific, and the valedictorian/salutatorian scene was inspired by The Future History of You and Me by Royal Noir, my best friend who screams with me about Sunset and Sci-Twi).

There's too many to mention, but I've gotta express some kind of gratitude for all the work you've done to make these two dorks fall in love. It's been so nice getting to read all your stories, the only thing I could think to do to show you how nice is to try and make one of my own.

If you haven't read any of those, seriously, click-up those links for more Sunlight goodness, because they're absolutely awesome.

Lastly, I want to thank you for reading, commenting, and doing the feedback thing. A storyteller without anybody listening is just a rambling fool, so I'm glad I could ramble at you about the horses for a while.