Compatī

“One last try,” Sunset said.

She fiddled with the little yellow dispersion crystal resting in a three-point wire stand. It sat slightly askew, but a nudge settled it snugly in place, pointed at the center of the mirror about five paces ahead of her. She then triple-checked that the focusing crystal just behind it aimed directly into the dispersion crystal, and with a slight twist, all was properly aligned.

There. Power, focus, disperse. If this went according to plan, it should draw out some small fraction of the mirror’s magic so they could study and, hopefully, reverse engineer it.

She took her spot behind the focusing crystal and gathered her magic. It trailed up the spiral of her horn, and with a careful flick, she fired it into the focusing crystal, which narrowed her beam to a hair’s thickness. It shot into the dispersion crystal, whose oval shape perfectly matched that of the mirror.

With her horn pointed at the crystal, Sunset couldn’t see the mirror or how the dispersion crystal evenly spread the spell over the mirror’s surface. Rather, she knew it was happening. One didn’t simply dive right into a set-up this precise without testing it a dozen times on the wall first. The deep amber glow pooling around her hooves was merely a formality at this point—her spell telling her that all proceeded as intended. Not that “as intended” was easy.

The strain of her Attunement Spell quickly got the better of her, and it petered out to leave her panting like a dog. She wiped the sweat off her brow, knowing without even looking that it damn well didn’t work.

“Maybe it needs a more concentrated microcrystalline gel,” String said over her shoulder. “Or you might have to cool down the mirror in order to better facilitate the transfer of magic.”

Sunset slanted her mouth. She already had the most concentrated catalytic gel she was comfortable dealing with, but there was truth to that second suggestion. Although chemical reactions increased at higher temperatures due to the random vibration of molecules and magic worked by initiating those reactions, magic transfer worked conversely, as too much of that same random vibration disrupted the flow of magic. It was about finding the sweet spot, which unfortunately varied depending on the spell make-up and the material under study.

Sunset leaned around the iron tripod holding up the focusing crystal to stare at the mirror. It didn’t so much as shimmer, twinkle, or sparkle after all their attempts to coax out its magic.

There was magic, though. There was so much of it. She could feel the energy radiating from the mirror whenever she sat still beside it and closed her eyes, and it tingled against the tip of her horn whenever she stared at her reflection.

“What’re you thinkin’?” String asked.

Sunset slanted her mouth to one side. “I don’t know. We’ve tried an Empowerment Spell, reversing the aetheric resonance, and now an Attunement Spell, and nothing’s worked.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud, but she was stumped. Not that she didn’t appreciate a good challenge, but she couldn’t be stumped. She wasn’t allowed to be stumped. She was Celestia’s star pupil.

They could try a stronger catalyst in the microcrystalline gel or lowering the temperature, but honestly, she doubted that would change anything. It was almost as if it were a regular old mirror. That thought would have plagued her time and again if she hadn’t felt the thrum of magic herself.

Who knew, maybe it was sentient and just playing a prank on her. Wouldn’t that be something?

“Well,” String said, scratching his head. “Whatever the case, we’ve been at this for a good six hours. We should leave it for tomorrow.”

“But why? We haven’t figured anything out yet, and it’s been two weeks since I started.” Sunset threw on a pout for good measure, wilted ears and all.

String threw his head back and laughed. “Sunset, I have too many daughters for an amateur pout like that to work on me.”

“Wha— I, uh…” Sunset pinned her ears back and blushed furiously.

“Besides, sometimes your best inspiration hits you when you’re doing the dishes.”

Sunset opened her mouth to say something, but fell short. She crooked her ears and tilted her head.

“Come on.” String cuffed her on the shoulder. “Let’s take a break for today.”

Sunset stared at the mirror a moment longer before giving a defeated sigh. Shoulders slumped, she fell in line.

He gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “Don’t worry about it, Sunset. This is how most research goes. You’ll figure it out. One way or another, you learn something new.”

Sunset couldn’t bring herself to nod, but she slanted her mouth in semi-agreement. He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t help much.

They left the research labs through the front entrance, following on the coattails of the last stragglers keen on getting their own final tests in for the day. String got a few nods and farewells in the halls, but for the most part, Sunset kept her eyes on the floor.

It just wasn’t like her to not succeed. She hadn’t failed—that didn’t happen until she truly threw in the towel—but to lack the barest hint of progress was so unlike her.

She hadn’t given up, no, but with every passing day, that terrible thought rose up in her throat like last night’s meal. Was this something she couldn’t do? Had she finally lost? Was the great Sunset Shimmer finally and truly stumped?

“You want me to walk you up, or are you good here?” String said. “These old knees can’t do stairs as well as they used to.”

Sunset looked up at him, startled. A quick glance around, and Sunset realized they were already in front of her dormitory. Back to him, she threw on a casual smile.

“Oh, no. I’m okay, thanks.”

He wore an easy smile, the same one he wore when they first met. He had said a few times that he thought of her as his fourth daughter. The one that “turned out alright,” he would jokingly say with a far-off smile, one she knew fondly saw Copper somewhere in the distance.

He felt that way about Sunset even before they met. Said the way Copper talked about her, she felt like part of the family from day one of their first semester. And if she were honest with herself, the way she had gotten to know him these last few weeks, he felt like more of a father than her own dad.

He nodded, his gaze drifting off toward the setting sun behind her. “It’s getting late. You get some sleep, okay? Don’t beat yourself up about this.”

Sunset giggled. She wasn’t exactly happy, but she’d picked up a thing or two about platitudes from Copper.

“I’ll try not to,” she said. “Not too much, anyway.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. Something jumped to the tip of his tongue, but Sunset beat him to the punch with a quick laugh.

“I’m just kidding,” Sunset said. “I’m fine. Really.” She gave him a hug for good measure.

String seemed happier when she pulled away. “Well, alright. You take care.”

She watched him go until he made it around the bend. The summer heat had died away sometime that evening, and as the dormitory shadows crept across the sidewalk, a cool breeze swept through her mane. She sighed, entered the dorms, and trudged up the stairs.

She unlocked and threw open her door. Copper was still at home for the summer, so she had the place to herself. No matter how often she wished for a break from Copper’s shenanigans, at times like this, all she wanted was her best friend to hold her and stroke her mane.

She trudged into her room and flopped onto the mattress, heaving a deep sigh. Even after all these weeks, the mattress still smelled like Copper’s coconut shampoo—a consequence of her hanging out with Sunset during study sessions. She turned over and stared at the popcorn ceiling.

What even was all this? This research… What Celestia would use the mirror for other than “friendship” was anypony’s guess.

Sunset shook her head. That didn’t matter. Celestia counted on her. She had entrusted her with this research—no, this mission. There was a reason she asked Sunset and nopony else.

Sunset curled up beneath her bedsheets and pulled a phoenix plushie close—a gift from Doppler last week, from some gift shop up in Vanhoover. She stroked its crest feathers. When she squeezed it against her chest, she imagined it chirruping like Philomena.

This mirror… it was unlike anything she had worked on before. Hopefully String was right. Hopefully inspiration would strike eventually.

Eventually.

• • •

Sunset was in Nocturne’s dream again. She could tell before even opening her eyes. They had a special feeling to them, as if an energy leapt in from the Dreamscape itself to lend a sort of static to the air.

Though, there was something different about it today. A sort of… apprehension. It clung to Sunset like water after a bath.

Nocturne sat in the middle of the white emptiness as always, but this time, her wings lay splayed out on either side, and her head hung to the floor, hidden amidst the clinging shadows. She trembled like a leaf in the wind.

Sunset took a hesitant step forward. “Nocturne?” Sunset said.

Nocturne flinched, snapping her wings up in front of her as if expecting Sunset to strike her, but relaxed back to that pitiful posture.

“Nocturne, what’s wrong?” Sunset asked, coming around in front of her.

Nocturne raised her head, tears streaming down her face. “He is gone.”

“What?” The hairs on Sunset’s nape stood on end. “What do you mean? Who’s gone?”

Nocturne shut her eyes and looked away. “My beloved Star Swirl.”

Sunset’s mouth fell open as she tried to find the words her mind struggled to keep up with, and a tingling chill traveled down her spine. “What happened to him? Is he hurt? Is he…?”

Sunset put a hoof on Nocturne’s shoulder. She felt the tension in the muscles beneath her skin.

“Nay,” Nocturne said. “He lives. He is, however, gone from my world. From my life. I, I knew not his motives for entering the Dreamscape, but… I had never once entertained the audacity of elopement.”

“Elopement? You mean…”

“Indeed.” Nocturne’s eyes found Sunset’s hoof on her shoulder, then fell to the ground. Her wings trembled at her sides. “My Star Swirl loves another.”

Sunset felt her grasp on Nocturne’s shoulder slipping. She blinked away the shock and looked around for something, anything, but they were alone in an empty dream, like always. Just the two of them. If it wasn’t for Sunset, Nocturne would be truly alone.

“I found them together, he and that… that whore.” She shook with rage, and the shadows wafting from her hooves snaked up in front of her and wound together as if strangling an invisible pony. Sunset pretended to ignore that.

Nocturne breathed herself calm and hung her head. “It felt different. ’Twas an artificial dream, one he must have constructed ere his escape from the mortal realm and why it was so difficult for me to find. A mare on her deathbed, saved from eternal slumber through artificial consciousness. He… he had planned it from the beginning. It is the only way…”

“It’s…” Sunset started. “I-it’s going to…”

What, be okay? Who was she to say that? Nocturne had spent the past thousand years looking for the pony she loved only to find out he ran off with another mare.

“I’m here for you,” she said. It was all she could say. She had no idea what a friend should do in this situation. At the very least, though, saying that felt right.

It brought a smile to Nocturne’s face, however briefly. “Thank you, Little Sunset. That is… more than I deserve.”

“More than you deserve? How can you say that?”

Nocturne’s gaze fell to the wayside. “Because I was foolish enough to believe. I was stupid enough to toss aside everything in the name of a love that no longer was.”

“Being in love doesn’t make you stupid. And being in love isn't inherently wrong, either.”

Silence fell between them for a beat, and it wasn’t until Nocturne’s eyes swung around that a smile just barely pricked up the corners of her lips. “I know that what you say comes from the heart, and I thank you with all of my own. But all the same, I do not know if I can bear this hardship. Not as I am.”

Nocturne wiped away her tears, and the way she trembled had Sunset worried she might fall to pieces at any moment. “I do not wish to burden you with such knowledge, Little Sunset, but you are all that I have now…”

Sunset threw her hooves around Nocturne to give her the biggest hug she could. Nocturne’s fur was colder than ice, but that was a small price to pay for the slow, steady brush of Nocturne’s wings along her shoulder blades and gentle hooves returning the gesture.

“I’m here for you,” Sunset said. “Until I wake up. Any night that you need me.”

A moment of silence, then Nocturne’s hooves held her tighter. They stayed like that for a good minute. Sunset was unsure when she should let go, but figured it was better to let Nocturne decide that.

When Nocturne finally pulled away, she cleared her throat. A hint of embarrassment ran across her face, and her ears fell back.

“I am sorry for that moment of weakness. I am not normally one for emotion.”

Sunset’s heart twisted in her chest. It hurt to think Nocturne felt that way. Even after so long away from other ponies, she couldn’t quite open up. But this was a step in the right direction. She would help her new friend yet.

“You can always talk to me about things.” She pressed herself into Nocturne’s chest again. “You don’t have to deal with whatever worries you by yourself. Not anymore.”

A hoof brushed a strand of mane behind Sunset’s ear. “I thank you, Little Sunset. A-and, if I may, I would ask of you one small favor in that regard.”

“Name it.”

“I wish to teach you a spell, one that you may use to find me, wherever I may be.”

A new spell? Sunset loved learning new spells.

“Okay,” she said. “How do I do it?”

Nocturne wrapped a wing around Sunset and held her close. The intimacy was chilling, yet oddly exhilarating.

“Whensoever you are wont to see me, all you must do is close your eyes, and then—” She touched her horn to Sunset’s, and a cold sensation like a drafty window wrapped down her horn and into her forehead. “—simply think of me, and I shall find you.”

Sunset let the spell reach into her, all the way to the tips of her hooves. She memorized the sensation, from the drafty chill to the quickened pitter-patter of her heart, and pressed her head into Nocturne’s chest. She smelled of ozone and what Sunset imagined stardust would smell like.

Nocturne brushed her mane, and with her wings wrapped around Sunset, it was the most natural feeling in the world, even more so than when Celestia did it.

“I will always be here for you, Little Sunset.”

Sunset nodded into her chest. “Me, too.”

Nocturne gave her a final squeeze, and they parted. “Now, let us speak of lighter topics. How are you faring in the real world?”

Sunset’s ears fell to the wayside. She pulled away from Nocturne and frowned at her hooves. She loved this dream place she spent with Nocturne because it was an escape from the real world and its problems. But she supposed she couldn’t keep away forever, and Nocturne loved hearing about what she was up to. Still, it didn’t make it any more fun to think about right now.

“Okay, I guess,” Sunset said.

“Your countenance says otherwise.” Nocturne regarded her with a searching gaze. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking, but the tone of her voice leaned toward concern.

“Well, it’s just…”

Was it okay to tell Nocturne about the mirror? Celestia asked her to keep it confidential, but did that count when it came to dream-walking ghost ponies? Telling her about it couldn’t get back to the real world, so real-world confidentiality couldn’t be broken.

Besides, they were having trouble with it. Maybe Nocturne had some advice, given her experience. Who knew what she might know?

“There’s this mirror. It’s this thing Celestia wants me to fix for her from…” She perked up a bit. “From about when you were around, actually.”

“A mirror?”

“Yeah, it’s like a portal or something. To another world.”

Nocturne stared into the distance. Her eyes danced back and forth between visions only she could see.

“I believe… Yes, Star—” She swallowed a lump in her throat and heaved a deep breath. “Star Swirl spoke of such a thing. A portal, activated by the full moon every thirty cycles.”

Sunset perked forward. “Really? It’s that simple?”

“As far as I recollect. However, what lies beyond is what concerns me.”

“What do you mean?” Sunset’s ears fell back, and she took a hesitant step forward. “Celestia said there was a world that wasn’t ready for friendship back then or something.”

Nocturne shook her head. “I do not know of such things, only that there is magic to be found there.”

Sunset turned her head slightly and furrowed her brow, eyes locked with Nocturne. “How much magic?”

“Unfathomable magnitudes, from what I gathered through Star Swirl’s words, and what little of it I have come across in the Dreamscape. However, he spoke of it darkly.”

“You’ve found it yourself in the Dreamscape?”

Nocturne shifted on her haunches. She seemed almost embarrassed to talk about it.

“There is… anomalous magic dispersed throughout the Dreamscape, some of which matched his descriptions of this mirror. I once tried sussing them out; however, I could not reach beyond whatever span they bridge. Their magics resisted my efforts, and, embarrassingly enough, frustration got the better of me and I lost interest.”

Sunset stared at the ground. An unfathomable magnitude of magic. What did Celestia want it for?

“Do you…” she said. “Do you think there’s enough to…”

“To what, Little Sunset?”

Sunset scuffed at the ground. She raised her eyes up to Nocturne. “To bring you out of the Dreamscape?”

Nocturne’s mouth opened just a hair, and she brought a hoof up. “Bring me out? Do you mean, return me to the waking world? As a living, breathing pony? I… I do not know. H-he spoke of power unrivaled, of life and leverage over its machinations, but…”

She cast her gaze into the distance and her wings to the floor. The shadows wafting from her underbelly whooshed outward in the draft and dissipated as they brushed past Sunset.

“Could it be possible…?” Nocturne whispered. She looked Sunset in the eye. A glimmer of hope—no, more than a glimmer, a spark—flashed in the depths of her eyes. “If such magic could be harnessed, I could…”

That wordless hope sent a rush of emotions through Sunset’s heart and a smile from ear to ear. This broken, time-lost pony, this friend of coincidence that she could save. Not even for Celestia’s friendship crap, but actually truly save, because Sunset wanted to.

Because that’s what friends did.

Was this, maybe, the stuff Celestia was trying to get her to learn? Maybe friendship wasn’t so hard after all.

“You can count on me,” Sunset said.

For the first time, Nocturne smiled wholly and truly. Not just out of regular, old happiness, but from genuine… what would the word be? Excitement? No, elation.

She swept Sunset off her hooves and spun her around, laughing all the while. The way Nocturne held her felt more real than anything Sunset had felt before.

Nocturne’s happiness was infectious, and Sunset found herself laughing, too. She put her hooves against Nocturne’s chest and let the moment carry her aloft.

After the moment passed, Nocturne set her down. There was an excited, anxious look in her eyes, one Sunset couldn’t quite place. Her ears went back, and she leaned in to kiss Sunset on the lips.

Blood rushed to Sunset’s cheeks, and the tips of her ears went hot as fire. She almost didn’t realize what was going on until she pushed herself away. The first breath she let out frosted in the space between them, and the next breath she drew left a cold tingle of wintergreen on her lips.

“I-I’m sorry,” Nocturne said. She shrunk in on herself, wings clutched tight at her sides. “I do not know what came over me.”

“No, it’s…” Sunset brushed her mane behind her ear and she let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Truly, I am sorry. You did not deserve such trespass.”

Sunset flicked her ears back, forward, and then shook her head. Part of her couldn’t stop smiling, and the blush on her cheeks refused to go away. All the while, the sharp taste of wintergreen scented every breath she took.

“No, really,” Sunset said. “It’s fine. I… Y-you’ve been—”

“’Tis no excuse.” Nocturne looked disappointed in herself and wiped a fresh bout of tears from her eyes. “Please, let us forget it happened.”

Nocturne closed her eyes and sent a pale-blue streak of magic spiraling up her horn. The blank world around them shifted like one of those topsy-turvy corridors in a carnival house, until the blurry images of buildings and streets came into focus. Laughter and shouting grew like somepony spinning up a gramophone, and as Sunset turned about to see everything taking shape, the sights and sounds of Manehattan filled in around her.

“Please…” Nocturne wore a pleading, hopeful smile. “Show me again?”

Sunset looked back and forth between Nocturne’s eyes. The emotion within them tugged at her the same way Copper’s often did whenever they went adventuring through Canterlot’s shopping district.

Sunset threw her hooves around Nocturne. “Anything for a friend.”

They shared that hug for a healthy minute before heading into the toy store. They saw the sights and laughed their share of laughs, watching the Manehattanites go about their busy, bustling lives. They watched the ships at port dock and set sail, and had ice cream before dinner. The stars shone bright enough that even the nightlife couldn’t chase them away, and they spent hours atop the tallest skyscraper counting those very same stars and pointing out silly shapes in the sky.

The dream was as fantastic this time as it was the last, yet Sunset’s mind lingered elsewhere through it all. When the stars blurred together with her slow slip into consciousness, just before Sunset opened her eyes, a soft touch like the lightest winter snow pressed against her cheek.

“Until next time, Little Sunset,” Nocturne whispered.

The room lay quiet, and Sunset stared at the ceiling. The sound of her heartbeat overtook the silence of the room, and with unfocused eyes, she brought up a hoof to trace her lips and the subtle but still-present taste of wintergreen.

• • •

What a curious coincidence, this mirror; what long-forgotten memories this junction brings.

Do you remember, Sister? I do.

I remember the hope in your eyes of a new world to befriend, the prosperity such kinship would bring, the fire and fury they met us with. By whose counsel do you again seek this fool’s errand? Or is this of your own design—yet more proof that you are unfit for the mantle you wear?

No matter. I daren’t squander this that Divine Providence has laid before me. Dearest Sister, I shall humor you.

As for you, Little Sunset, you have failed this your third test and thus you shall learn:

Ever alluring is the single red rose. So beautiful, so perfect. ’Tis coveted above all of life’s gifts, yet woe to the pony who dares grasp it by the stem.

Let me help you grasp it, Little Sunset. Let us show the world the color you bleed.