The Prodigal Daughter

Chapters

The Prodigal Daughter Comes Back
The Prodigal Daughter Hits the Town
The Prodigal Daughter is Homesick
The Prodigal Daughter's Mother
The Prodigal Daughter Takes Note
The Prodigal Daughter Doesn't Do Much of Anything
The Prodigal Daughter is Beside Herself
The Prodigal Daughter Goes Through the Looking-Glass
The Prodigal Daughter is Really Hot
The Prodigal Daughter is Home

The Prodigal Daughter Comes Back

Canterlot High, Autumn of 2016: Sunset’s heart pounded, echoing through her body. They were still chasing her, trying to keep her from her goal. She turned down a hallway and quickly jinked into a nearby classroom. Breathing hard, she slumped against the door, eyes closed as she tried to pull herself together. “Uh, Sunset?” a familiarly raspy voice asked, “What are you doing in here?”

Her eyes snapped open to see the whole class staring at her. There was one face, though, that stood out far more than the others. “Rainbow! Great, just who I wanted to see,” she said, a lunatic grin plastered across her face. She thrust a book at the girl. “Keep this safe,” she instructed. “Whatever you do, don’t let me see it until you’re sure she can be trusted.”

“Don’t let you… huh? Wait, isn’t this the friendship journal? Sunset, what—”

“I think they’re gone for now,” the other girl interrupted, eyes flickering back towards the hallway. “I’m sorry about this.”

She threw open the door and ran as fast as she could. Down the halls, through the cafeteria, past the throngs of students crowding the atrium— “Ow!” Sunset tripped over someone’s foot and fell to the floor. Glancing up, she saw Trixie, one of the school's principal mean girls and perpetual thorn in Sunset's side, standing over her, smirking nastily as her lavender eyes glittered with smug menace. “No running in the halls, Sunny,” she sing-songed.

“Don’t have time for this,” Sunset growled, springing to her feet and taking off again, away from her would-be tormentor. That was something she’d not much miss, anyway. She pushed her way through the doors and raced over the open ground. “Come on, come on, please still work,” she muttered.

“There she is!” a familiar voice echoed. Sunset looked back for just a moment. For just a second, she saw an exact duplicate of herself was leading a ragtag band of pursuers. She saw her own face staring back at her with a mixture of fear and anger. But then she ran into the portal and knew no more.

***

Three days earlier... Principal Celestia leaned over the desk. "I'm sorry," she said. "I really-- can't express--"

"'S okay," the girl muttered, not meeting the woman's eyes.

"It isn't!" Celestia slumped back in her chair. "All this time. I never even guessed..."

"Ms. Polus--"

Celestia raised a hand. "Please, even if you can't call me 'mom', at least call me Celestia. There's not a student in the school who refers to my sister or me by our last name."

"Okay... Celestia. Really, it hasn't been as bad as all that! Foster care wasn't exactly great, but it wasn't terrible, you know? I had a pretty good childhood and... whatever!"

Celestia sighed and gave a faint grin. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better, at least. I intend to make up for lost time." She smiled at the girl wistfully. "You have your father's eyes, you know, and your mother's smile."

The girl looked away, obviously uncomfortable. Celestia nodded. "You can have a few days off school while you get settled in."

A smile flickered over Sunset's lips. "Thanks... mom."

***

Entry 1: Dear Twilight Sparkle,

Thus far, all has gone about as well as can be expected on the whole ‘redemption’ front. Principal Celestia was pretty reasonable about punishment. I'm in detention for a month, and I'm expected to help the construction workers after school for as long as it takes to get everything fixed. Better than I expected, honestly. The rest of the school, though… well, it's an uphill battle. Even your friends only just about tolerate me. I guess it's no less than I deserve for all the shit I put everyone through. Can't write more now. I’ve got work to do.

-Sunset Shimmer

***

Ponyville, Autumn of 5 BAT: “Let’s see,” Twilight Sparkle thought aloud. “What do we have to do today?”

She glanced around for her To-Do list, but she was surrounded by piles of scrolls and paper. “...Right. Okay, I think I remember ‘organizing my study’ as being pretty high-priority on that list,” she muttered. “Might need a little help with this…”

Owlowiscious fluttered down from the rafters and settled on the pile of scrolls. Twilight smiled at him. “Thanks, but I get the feeling that talons and beaks might do more harm than good for all these papers. Would you go and get Spike, please?”

“Whoo?” the owl asked, tilting his head.

“Spike. You know—” she cut herself off. “Right. Spike doesn’t live here anymore.” She sighed. Her little brother (though, ‘little’ didn’t seem to quite fit him, now that he stood easily half a head taller than Twilight herself) had moved in with Rarity a few months ago. It was sweet, and Twilight was certainly happy that they had stopped dancing around the question of romance (really, really glad. She had found the whole thing kind of irritating), but she did miss her Number One Assistant. And so soon after Starlight had gone off to further her friendship studies in Canterlot, too… This was an awfully big castle, and it felt much bigger with no one else living in it. Thank Celestia she’d found a new set of hooves to help out.

“Would you go and get our new assistant, please?” she asked Owlowiscious, who nodded and swooped off to find her.

Twilight sighed again, head low. She missed Spike dearly. She almost wished that he was still here. She shook herself.

No. Spike was happier now, and so was Rarity. She would be fine. Just fine. She almost believed that. Suddenly, however, her meditation was interrupted by a crashing sound from down the corridor. She blinked, turning toward the doorway. A lone wheel, in accordance with the universal laws of comedy, rolled by.

Cautiously, she poked her head out into the hallway. One of the doors had popped open, and several objects were lying in disarray at its threshold. Quietly, she walked on tippyhoof down to the room and peered around the doorway. Nothing here seemed too unusual— apart from being spilled across the floor.

She walked in, horn glowing with a mild offensive spell. “Hello?” she called, glancing around. “Anypony in here? I promise, you’re safe.”

A muffled shout came from underneath a tapestry that had fallen to the ground, and a figure beneath it flailed about. Twilight lifted up one side of the drapery, and was promptly struck by what seemed to be a bolt of fire. “TWILIGHT!” the fire yelled joyfully.

Twilight blinked. “...Sunset? What are you doing here?” she asked slowly.

The orange unicorn seemed not to have heard her, as she only tightened her embrace.

***

On the other side of the mirror portal, a girl with pale orange skin, a fire-colored ponytail, and a red tee-shirt professing her love of the hit BBC sci-fi drama Physician Whomst, stood, mouth agape, at the empty sidewalk. “I… what… how…” She turned around to face the cluster of students that had gathered around her. “You all saw that too, right? It wasn’t some kind of weird hallucination?”

Her teacher, Mr. Sombra, shrugged his wide, cardigan-clad shoulders, his expression somewhere between confusion and resignation. “A question I find myself asking with ever-increasing frequency, Miss Shimmer,” he said drily. “Don’t worry too terribly much. It certainly can’t be worse than the sirens. Or, well, it probably can.” He sighed. “Come along everyone. Back to class. Just another world-threatening disaster, I’m sure.”

The gloomy teacher turned and walked back down the halls, most of the class following him. The girl flapped her mouth open and shut in a manner not incomparable to a fish. Then, with a confused huff, she turned to follow everybody back to history class.

***

Mr. Cake stood at the kitchen counter, whistling slightly to himself as he waited for the cinnamon rolls in the oven to finish baking. Meanwhile, Mrs. Cake was sitting at the table, reading the paper, and Pinkie was entertaining the foals in the next room. “Anything interesting today?” he asked his wife.

She glanced back at the front page for a moment. “Mm. Says here that a new bill is being introduced to the House of Commons,” she said mildly. “Something about increased funding for the navy.”

“Mhm,” said her husband.

Mrs. Cake turned the page. “Riots up in Griffonstone,” she noted. “Some modernist group, it looks like. Protest got out of hand.”

“Hm,” said Mr. Cake. “Anything more local?”

In the next room, Pinkie gasped loudly. Cup Cake looked up at her husband. “Looks like we’re about to find out,” she said drily.

“There’s someone new in Ponyville!” Pinkie screeched.

Carrot Cake nodded. “Well, at least it isn’t parasprites again.”

“Or another sugar shortage,” his wife agreed

“Mr. Cake! Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie shouted, “Can I have the morning off?”

The two older ponies exchanged glances. Cup Cake shrugged. “It’s only Monday,” she noted. “It’ll be a slow day.”

Mr. Cake nodded. “Yes, Pinkie. Put the sugar cookies in the oven before you go, and be back for the four o'clock rush."

“Yay!” Pinkie cried. “See you all this afternoon at the party!”

Cup Cake took a sip of her coffee. “Oh, and look, the Trottingham Tigers beat the Manehattan Grey Socks,”

Mr. Cake frowned. “I forget, what do they play again?” He had never been a sports fan.

“Baseball, dear,” Mrs. Cake explained. “The one with the bat and the peanuts.”

“Oh, yes.”

They fell back into a cozy silence.

***

“Sunset!” Twilight shouted after the embrace had gone on for over two minutes. The orange unicorn blinked, and let her friend go.

“What?”

“Why are you here?” Twilight repeated, slowly and loudly.

Sunset paused. “I… What, I can’t come home every now and then? I mean, you’ve got the portal open all the time now— I’m surprised I didn’t think of it before!”

Twilight nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “So am I. But not as surprised as I am that you suddenly thought of it just now and decided to act upon it. At top speed, no less,” she added, glancing pointedly at the trail of destruction Sunset had wrought.

“Aheh,” was the sheepish response as the other unicorn observed the mess she had made.

“The truth, Sunset,” Twilight said, with a firm look. “I promise, you won’t get in any trouble from me.”

Sunset sighed, sitting down. “Alright. You remember that time at the Friendship Games, when there was that human version of you?”

“...Why, yes. Yes, I do remember the human me that almost ripped reality at the seams,” Twilight replied drily. “Why, what did she do?”

“No, no. Twilight— the other one— she’s been great. Better than great. I just mean— Well, did you ever consider that there might be a human version of me?”

Twilight blinked. “Um. No, why?”

“Neither did I, until today, when she showed up in the middle of history,” Sunset grumbled. “She took one look at me and started screaming about doppelgangers and shapeshifters.”

The alicorn’s eyes widened. “What did you do?” she gasped.

“What could I do? I ran for it. Everyone was too shocked to come after me for a few seconds, and I made the most of it. I tried to explain things to Dash, but there really wasn’t enough time. I left her with the friendship journal, though, so…” she trailed off. “I-- I don't know if I can go back,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the mirror.

Twilight moved to comfort her friend, but stopped when she heard a noise at the door. “Twilight? Is everything alright in there?”

Sunset whipped around to see the source of the voice. Her eyes went wide. “Oh, no. No. Not you.”

Twilight looked between Sunset and the mare at the door in some confusion. “...Do you two know each other?”

Sunset let out a defiant cry at the interloper, who reared back in shock. Then, with a flash of light, the orange mare vanished.

“...The Helpful and Loyal Trixie is confused,” said the newcomer.

“So am I,” Twilight agreed. “But for now, would you help me disassemble this device on the mirror? I don’t think we want anything else getting through just right now. And then maybe we could clean up in here...”

***

Pinkie burst in through the doors of the palace. “TWILIGHT!” she shouted, “THERE’S A NEW PONY IN PONYVILLE!”

She looked around. No one there. Except— “Ooh! Hi, there!” Pinkie said, bouncing over to the startled unicorn in the corner. “I’m—”

“Pinkie Pie?” the unicorn asked, surprised. Then she blinked. “Well, I suppose that makes sense.”

Pinkie frowned. “What makes sense? Me?” she grinned. “No, that’s not right, I never make sense! Well, I try not to…”

The other mare shook her head and laughed. It wasn’t really a happy laugh, Pinkie thought. “I’m Sunset,” the unicorn said, “Sunset Shimmer?”

“Oh! Twilight mentioned you!” Pinkie said, bouncing back up. Then she gasped. “So you must be the new pony in Ponyville!”

“I— well, I suppose I must, yes,” Sunset agreed cautiously.

Pinkie nodded firmly. “Right. Oh! But that means—!” She turned and galloped away as quickly as she had arrived.

Sunset watched the pink mare go. She sighed. She remembered Pinkie, her Pinkie. The Pinkie who had planned the Fall Formal, who had made the best ice cream sundaes, who had been one of her best friends. She missed the crazy, frizzy, pink girl already. She sighed heavily and trotted out of the hallway, back towards Twilight. She supposed she had to explain her actions. Meanwhile, outside, the breeze picked up and the sun seemed to shine slightly brighter for a moment. There was something new in this world, something unusual. Something chaotic.

***

“So,” Trixie said, picking up and folding the tapestry, “Feel like explaining to Trixie what just happened?”

Twilight sighed. “If I knew, I’d be glad to explain,” she said morosely. “Sunset seems a little… off-kilter today.”

Trixie’s brow furrowed in thought. “Sunset? That name seems familiar…”

“Sunset Shimmer? Princess Celestia’s former student? Turned vengeful and escaped to an alternate universe, then tried to brainwash the masses into taking over Equestria? Now reformed, and managed to save the multiverse?”

Trixie thought a little longer. “Nope, not really ringing any bells, sorry.”

Twilight sighed, but smiled a little, shaking her head. “So, what’s she doing back here?” Trixie asked.

“She ran into her alternate self, who… didn’t really take well to the idea of having a twin.”

Trixie made a noise of commiseration. “Trixie knows that feeling,” she muttered.

Twilight frowned. “Huh? What do you— Oh. Your brother. You know, I—”

There was a knock at the door jamb, and Sunset waved from the entrance, smiling weakly. “Hey. Can I come in?”

Twilight set down the stack of boxes she had been repacking. “Yes. Actually, why don’t we go to the kitchen and have a nice cup of tea? I get the general sort of feeling we all need that.”

“Coffee for me, if you’ve got any,” said Sunset.

Twilight nodded. “Right this way,” she instructed, leading the other two mares down the hall. Sunset regarded Trixie warily for a moment before following after the princess. The stage magician sat back on her hooves, frowning. What was this mare’s problem with her?

***

Pinkie bounced across the town square, hoofing out invitations left and right to everypony she met. “Party at the Castle of Friendship,” they read. “Let’s say “Howdy!” to our new friend Sunny!”

Rarity looked at her invitation with barely a batted eyelid, despite the fact that it had somehow appeared in the middle of her sandwich as her irrepressible friend zipped by. “Ah,” she observed to her dining companion. “How delightful. I wonder what ‘Sunny’ is like?”

Spike, reading over his own invitation, raised an eyebrow. “Huh. That’s a pretty good likeness she drew on here. It really looks just like her.”

“Just like who?”

“Sunny. Well, no, not Sunny. It’s Sunset Shimmer,” he said, pointing at the surprisingly accurate hoof-drawn image on the front of the card. “You remember, from the human world.”

“Oh, yes,” Rarity mused. “Goodness, it’s been awhile since you’ve gone through there, isn’t it?”

Spike shrugged. “It’s all relative, really. Literally. The mirror portal bends time, somehow. At least, that’s what Twilight thinks. Everyone over there is sort of… stuck in time? Stuck in high school, anyway, and I doubt that’s much fun. I dunno, it’s a weird place. Sunset’s alright, though, now that she’s not mad with power.”

“Mm. Such high standards,” the unicorn tutted, smiling slightly.

The dragon grinned back, taking a sip of his tea. “We should try to stop by before the party,” he said. “Might be nice for her to see some friendly faces.”

The unicorn considered this. “I’ve not got any pressing projects,” she decided, “And Sweetie’s off with the Crusaders. Why not?” She waved to the waiter. “Check, please,” she requested.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want any dessert?”

Rarity hesitated, considering. “I really shouldn’t…”

“They’ve got double-chocolate cake. With strawberries.”

The unicorn sighed, but smiled nevertheless. “You old tempter. Well, if you insist, I suppose I can give my diet a day off. Waiter? Never mind about the bill just yet. Would you be so kind as to fetch the dessert menu?”

***

In the kitchen of the Castle of Friendship, Twilight and Trixie waited patiently as Sunset took a deep, long drink of her coffee. “Mmm, that hit the spot,” she sighed. “Would you believe it, there really wasn’t a single decent coffee shop in that entire town?”

Twilight smiled, slightly embarrassed. “Thanks. I don’t cook much, really. Spike did most of that before he… moved out.”

Sunset blinked, and leaned forwards, concern etched into her features. “Is he okay?”

“Spike? Oh, yes. He’s just moved in with Rarity. They’ve been living together for a few months now.” She giggled. “Really, it’s adorable.”

Trixie coughed. “Trixie feels that we may be getting away from the topic at hoof?”

“Oh! Yes, thank you, Trixie,” Twilight agreed. “Sunset, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting somewhat oddly. If there’s anything I should know about…”

“Anything you should know about?” Sunset repeated in a deceptively calm tone, setting down her coffee mug on the old oak table. “Why, yes, Twilight, there is something you should know about.”

Her eyes as hot as coals, she pointed a hoof at Trixie. “That mare. She needs to leave, and never come back. She isn’t anything but trouble.”

***

Meanwhile, up in Canterlot, a very unusual mail delivery was interrupting Morning Court. “I really am terribly sorry, your Majesty,” said Kibitz, wringing his hooves, “But she simply would not wait until you were free.”

The grey pegasus shifted uncomfortably. Right now, Ditzy wasn’t sure exactly to whom she was delivering the letter— Princess Celestia (High Solar and Elder of the Diarchy), Celly (Her husband’s old friend and travelling companion), or Ms. C. Everfree, the name on the envelope she held in her hooves. “It’s got A.S.A.P. written on it,” she said wretchedly. “And Pinkie was very insistent.”

That got Celestia’s attention. “Pinkie? This is a letter from Pinkie Pie?” She turned to the court. “There will be a half-hour recess, due to a potential matter of national importance.”

She led the discomfited mailmare into her chambers. Ditzy nervously coughed. “Um… I don’t know about ‘national’ importance, exactly,” she said.

Celestia shrugged. “Well, quite. Far more likely, it’s a party invitation, or something of that nature. Still, I could do with a break. One must keep up appearances, at least for the public.” She winked. “I’m terribly sorry, where are my manners? I’ve not even offered refreshment.”

“Oh, no thank you, your Highness,” Ditzy said. “I couldn’t possibly…”

Celestia laughed, not unkindly. “Ditzy Doo, please calm down! There’s no need to stand on formality behind closed doors, call me Celestia. Won’t you at least have some lemonade? Cupcakes, perhaps?”

“That does sound nice,” Ditzy allowed. “Thank you, Prin— Cel— I’m sorry, I can’t,” she apologized. “It just seems too disrespectful.”

The alicorn’s smile faded slightly, but she nodded. “Very well. As long as you feel comfortable, call me what you will.”

Ditzy set the letter on the table as the princess levitated over a pitcher and a tray of pastries. “So,” said the princess, taking a bite out of one of the cakes, “How has life with the Doctor been treating you? Go anywhere exciting since we last spoke?”

Ditzy blinked once or twice, to get her mind wrapped around the fact that, yes, the princess did indeed talk with her mouth full. Recovering herself, she replied, “Well, we went to Timbucktoo for lunch a while ago, and wound up stopping a hive mind from avenging itself on the Doctor and then freezing the world.”

“Mhm,” said Celestia, taking a sip of lemonade. “Sounds about par for the course. Where else?”

“Oh, that’s it.”

Celestia frowned. “That’s… it? That’s all?”

“Well, it was certainly an adventure. One of the Crusaders got a cutie mark from it…”

“Yes, yes, Button Mash, I know.”

“You— what? How do you know about that?”

The princess chuckled. “Ponyville is on the edge of the Everfree. It’s home to the Elements of Harmony and the spirit of Chaos, it was the place where Nightmare Moon rose to power once more, it was the place where Tirek was stopped, and with all the catastrophes that happen there, I’m not surprised that the Doctor wound up there. They're something of a trouble magnet too, you know.”

“Yes,” said Ditzy flatly, casting her mind back over the last several months. The Doctor, rescuing Cheerilee and her class from living chalk drawings. All of Rarity’s ponniquins coming to life and attacking the town, only to be stopped by a certain Time Lord. Nopony was quite sure what happened at Sweet Apple Acres except for the Doctor and Big Mac, and neither one was talking, quite literally in the case of the latter. “I’ve noticed that. But you still haven’t explained—”

“I have a few informants in the town,” Celestia admitted. “It’s actually how I found out about your husband’s return in the first place.”

“Wait, what? You’ve got spies in Ponyville?”

“Not spies,” the alicorn corrected. “They’re normal civilians, more or less. They keep me abreast of major happenings, local news, idle gossip, things of that nature.”

“...Oh,” said Ditzy, dubiously.

“As I said, the Doctor is something of a trouble magnet. They're drawn to it, through time and space, and they hate staying still. How did you do it?”

“He’s been keeping busy. He started up a little repair shop, and as you said, Ponyville is never quiet for very long. And, of course, he’s been teaching Dinky all about Gallifrey.”

The Princess’s eyes widened in understanding. “I see…” she said.

“It’s nice. He’s showing her how to fly the TARDIS, and he tells her all these stories. He says they’re traditional Gallifreyan fables, but I’m not so sure. The name “Doctor” seems to crop up a little too often for that to be true…”

The princess laughed. “They always did have an ego,” she giggled. “Shall we see what the letter has to say?”

Ditzy hesitated once more. “I really should go…”

“I’m sure you can wait just a moment longer, can’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Thank you.” The princess levitated a letter opener over to the table and prised open the envelope. “You’re invited to a party for our new friend…” her eyes bulged and she coughed heartily as some lemonade went down the wrong way. “I was wrong,” she said. “This is a matter of national importance after all. Kibitz? Cancel all of my appointments today after noon. Actually, make that eleven. I get the feeling I’ll be needing a little time to prepare for this…”

Sensing that perhaps now would be a good time to leave, Ditzy snuck out of the back entrance of the chamber.

The Prodigal Daughter Hits the Town

Entry 12: Dear Twilight,

Well. I’ve got a little bit of good news, anyway. A small group of students actually no longer vaguely wishes that a grand piano would drop on my head. I mean, most of them still totally do, but hey, making progress. Ditzy Doo actually stopped by the lunch table to give me what she termed a ‘forgiveness muffin’. Most of the teachers are pretty chill as well. Probably because they weren’t actually on the receiving end of my bullying. I want to be able to show them that I’ve actually changed, Twilight. But I’ve got a whole lot to atone for. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make up for it all. I’ll ask Pinkie about it later while we’re reviewing geometry.

-Sunset Shimmer

Twilight looked startled. Trixie looked as though she’d been slapped, told that she would be getting coal for Hearth’s Warming, and slapped again. Eventually, Twilight was able to pull herself together. “I think you’d better explain yourself, Sunset,” she said, a note of steel in her voice. “You’d better have a good reason for saying that sort of thing.”

Sunset chuckled bitterly. “A good reason? Fine. How about we start with the way that she took over the school? How she conned her way into everybody’s hearts and got herself into a position of power? How she managed to copy my rise to power to become the new queen bee? How she's been an insufferable troublemaker from the day I met her?”

Trixie looked more confused than hurt, now. “The Perplexed and Insulted Trixie has never met you before today, and that certainly is not how she remembers high school.” She shuddered. “The less said about that, the better…”

Twilight frowned. “Wait. You mean the human Trixie did all that?”

“Yes.”

The Princess of Friendship facehoofed. “Sunset.” she paused. “I— look. You can’t judge somepony by how you knew them in the human world. Not everything is exactly paralleled.”

“Like what? Name one thing, Twilight. Rainbow Dash is still an athlete, you told me that. Fluttershy still works at an animal shelter, Applejack still lives on a farm, Rarity is still fashion-obsessed, Pinkie Pie is… Pinkie Pie.”

“Well, for starters, Trixie isn’t a power-hungry megalomaniac.” She paused, thinking.“Anymore,”

“Oh, yes, thanks for that little clarification,” Trixie muttered.

“Spike and Rarity are in love, which isn't exactly something that would’ve happened in the human world. Heck, look at me and my human counterpart! I never tried to do what she did with the magic of friendship! This world and the human world are imperfect counterparts, and you can’t use something from one as evidence to back up a claim about something from the other.”

Sunset’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Twilight continued. “Trixie used to be more like what you were describing, that’s true. But she’s changed. She's a better pony than that, and I consider her to be one of my closest friends.”

She looked Sunset straight in the eyes. “Please, don’t make me choose between my friends.”

Sunset’s mouth snapped shut. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry about that, Twilight, I just don’t know what came over me.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” Twilight said.

Sunset grimaced, but turned to look at Trixie, meeting her eyes for the first time. “I’m... sorry, Trixie. I just… your counterpart was a real pain. I’m going to try to get past that, but it might take awhile.”

Trixie nodded. “Trixie accepts your apology,” she said. “She understands. Take all the time you need.”

She extended a hoof, and after a few moments of hesitation, Sunset grasped it and shook firmly. There was a faint fuzziness in the blue mare’s mind suddenly, and she blinked, pulling away from the contact. Twilight beamed. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” she said. “I guess we’d better get back to work tidying the store room and then my study. I still can’t find my to-do list…”

“I’ll help,” Sunset offered.

Twilight looked thoughtfully at her. “I have a better idea,” she said. “Trixie, would you help Sunset to a bedroom? I suspect she doesn’t have much in the way of lodgings. Once you’ve done that, if you could show her around Ponyville?”

Trixie looked cautiously at Sunset. Sunset looked with faint horror at Trixie. They both looked at Twilight, who smiled back with optimistic expectation.

***

“I swear, it’s like talking to Celestia,” Sunset griped as she fluffed up the pillows in her new room. “That sort of cheerful manipulation…”

“Trixie was thinking more along the lines of some unholy combination of Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy, but Celestia works as an analogy as well, she supposes.”

Sunset stared. “Why those two?”

“Pinkie Pie for the cheerfulness, Fluttershy for the Stare.”

“The… stare?”

“Did your Fluttershy not have that? All she has to do is stare very hard at an animal and it… well, it is difficult to explain, but Trixie has seen her make a manticore curl up into a ball and weep.” She grinned widely. “It was awesome.”

“Uh… huh,” Sunset said, sitting back on the bed. She stared at Trixie for a long moment. Their earlier contact had been enough to read a decent outline of the mare, but no more. “You see what I’m saying though, right? About the manipulation?”

Trixie shrugged trotting over to sit next to Sunset. “Trixie thinks that comes with the territory of being a superbly powerful, basically immortal goddess. Or god,” she added. “Discord can be very manipulative as well.”

Sunset spun around, eyes wide. “Discord? The spirit of chaos, breaker of minds and destroyer of harmony? That Discord?”

Trixie nodded. “They live with Fluttershy. The town has made a pool regarding who will be first to admit they’re in love with the other, and when it will occur.”

“That’s— I— but—”

Trixie smiled. “It’s okay. It took Trixie a few days to get used to the idea as well. But if we can be reformed, why not Discord?”

Sunset stared at her. “So you were a villain,” she said.

Trixie’s smile dropped. “...Yes,” she admitted. “That was not a good time for the Great and Powerful Trixie, and she would very much prefer if the subject was dropped altogether. Preferably down a deep well, or possibly into a volcano.”

Sunset smirked a little bit. After the little bit of mind-reading, she had mostly logically accepted that this Trixie was far removed from the bullying grifter of Canterlot High, but emotionally? Finding a spot to twist the knife around a little felt good.

“Oh, go on,” she said. “I’m not going to judge you. I’m just a little curious. Besides,” she added, a vicious smirk on her face. “Don’t friends share their secrets?”

Trixie looked at her for a long moment. “Fine. Trixie first came to this town an arrogant braggart. She humiliated the townsponies, but then failed to live up to her bluster and left the town with great speed and shame. Word spread. Everywhere Trixie went, she was known as “the braggart who unleashed an Ursa on a small town”, which wasn’t even true. It was a pair of local foals who did that.”

Sunset winced, suddenly sympathetic. “Snips and Snails?” she guessed.

“You know them?”

“Their counterparts, yeah.”

Trixie gave her a knowing look. “Henchponies?”

“Henchmen, technically, but yeah, basically. You were saying?”

Trixie winced. There was a slight hitch in her voice as she continued. “Trixie was… a pariah. Everywhere she went, she was chased off. Nowhere in Equestria would have her. Trixie’s ego was too great to admit fault, so she blamed Twilight Sparkle. The location of a magical talisman of great power and corruption fell into Trixie’s hooves, the Alicorn Amulet. An anonymous admirer informed her it would give her everything she desired-- power, revenge, glory..."

“Go on,” Sunset encouraged, now honestly interested.

“Trixie returned to Ponyville to challenge Twilight to a duel. The loser was to be banished from town forever, and Trixie won. This was, it should be stressed, before Twilight became an alicorn. Under the influence of the amulet, Trixie became a tyrant, until Twilight returned and removed the talisman with some help from her friends. Once more, Trixie fled the town. Upon reflection, she grew to realise that all of that misfortune was her own fault. So, cleaning up her act, she started again. Eventually, she made it to Manehattan. With help from Rarity, Applejack, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders, she caught a jewel thief. She was really moving up in the world… she made friends with a mare named Starlight Glimmer, another member of the ‘reformed’ club… and then she came back to Ponyville. Eventually, everypony more or less forgave Trixie— they really are nice ponies around here— and she moved in with Twilight and Spike.”

She looked at Sunset. “Your turn.”

Sunset paused. “Uh. I flew into a jealous rage against Princess Celestia, escaped to the human dimension, and basically took over the local high school. Because apparently traveling to that universe turns you into a human teenager, I guess. Then, I came back, stole the Element of Magic, and tried to use it in an attempt to form an army of hypnotised teenagers to take over Equestria. Then Twilight and her friends helped me reform and redeem myself, and that was basically my life until my crazy human doppelganger chased me back here.”

Trixie blinked. “That’s it?”

Sunset glanced down awkwardly. She couldn’t just tell Trixie about her mind reading ability. “What more does it need?”

“Detail! Trixie just poured out her life’s story to you, apart from her early family life because we are not going there. Ever. Just consider that one a locked door. You could tell me about your adventures, how you redeemed yourself in the eyes of your peers! You could tell me about the weird ways humans do things! You could tell me how you felt when you first arrived in the other world! Give it some detail!”

Sunset looked at Trixie closely. “You said ‘me’.”

Trixie went bright red. “The Confident and In No Way Embarrassed Trixie has no idea what you are speaking of,” she said stiffly. “Come along. Trixie will show you around town while your room airs out.”

***

Dash was deeply concerned. She hadn’t been able to find Sunset all day, not since she ran into math class, handed her the Friendship Journal, and ran away again. It was as though she’d vanished off the face of the planet. “I’m telling you, Flutters, it was like she’d gone crazy or something. Just shoved the journal into my chest and ran off without even saying goodbye.”

“Oh, my,” murmured the willowy girl. “That doesn’t seem very like her.”

“I know,” Dash said, exasperatedly leaning against a row of lockers. “It was weird. She was acting really…” the athlete’s brow creased. “Scared. She was scared.”

Fluttershy looked down the hall, frowning. “Well, she looks a lot better now…”

“Huh?” Rainbow Dash followed her friend’s line of sight. “Sunset?”

Indeed, a frizz of red and yellow hair could be seen sticking out among the crowd, its owner bobbing and weaving in their direction. Dash grinned, inwardly letting out a sigh of relief. “Sunset!” she called. “Over here! Hey, Sunset!”

The other girl looked up in surprise as Dash barreled into her with a tight embrace. “Dude, you scared me,” she chuckled. “I thought you were dead or something!”

“I scared you?” Sunset asked incredulously. “I’m not the one giving people hugs out of nowhere!”

Dash smiled sheepishly. “Oops. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“And how do you know my name?” Sunset continued, staring at the blue-skinned girl with squinty eyes.

The smile fell from Dash’s face. Suddenly, differences started to stand out more clearly. Sunset didn’t usually wear a ponytail, and she’d never worn that red shirt before, nor those yellow leggings. And when had she gotten her ears pierced? “What do you mean? Of course I know your name, we’ve been friends long enough, even if you did do something new with your hair.”

Sunset shook her head, looking alarmed. “I’m sorry. You must have me confused with someone else. I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

Before Dash could form a response to that, the fiery-haired girl had hurried away as fast as she could. Fluttershy walked up behind her colorful friend. “What just happened?” she asked, befuddled.

Dash shook her head. “I dunno, Shy.” Her face hardened, and her mouth creased tight. “But I’m gonna find out.”

***

It was a beautiful day in Ponyville. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders were not yet causing anything to become covered in tree sap. Sunset smiled as she saw the cheerful townsponies going about their day… a smile which dropped somewhat when she realized how much they reminded her of her friends on the other side of the mirror. Oblivious, Trixie continued to point out various attractions of the town. “That’s the town hall,” she said, pointing at a large, stone building. “Over there, we see the town bar, the Stick and Carrot. Hi Berry!” The earth pony bartender smiled and waved. “There we see Sugarcube Corner, and leaving it, we see the local time-travelling alien.”

Sunset blinked. “What?”

Trixie shrugged. “What can Trixie say? This is a weird town. Hi, Doctor Turner!”

“Hello, Trixie!” the tan pony said cheerfully. “And you must be the famous Sunny that Pinkie’s been talking about.”

Sunset blinked. “What? Wait, you’re Dr. Turner?”

The Doctor paused. “Sorry? Have we met?”

Trixie frowned. “Long story short, no. But Shimmer here seems to think that meeting an alternate-universe version of somepony is the same as actually meeting them.”

“Hey! That’s not what I mean— this guy doesn’t even look like the Doctor! He’s too young and… not mint-green.”

“Mint green?” the Doctor repeated, scratching his head. “Never been that color before.”

“Yeah, well, this guy was. Physics teacher. Old dude. Really bad at names. He kept calling me Sunrise, or Sunup, or Sundown. Crazy old coot, but he was nice enough, I guess.”

The Doctor furrowed his brow, but before he could speak, Trixie cut him off. “Nice to see you, Doctor Turner, but we have errands to run. Good morning.” And she was off, dragging Sunset in tow behind her.

The Doctor frowned. “Odd,” he murmured. “Alternate universes? Mint green doppelgangers? What in the world is going on?” A slight frown on his face, he glanced up the street at the crystal castle. “No harm in investigating, I suppose…”

***

Sunset glanced around the classroom in bewilderment. All day, she had been getting the same treatment from all the other students. A sense of camaraderie. Familiarity. Friendship. Certainly, it was far from a bad thing, but the immediate acceptance was Twilight-Zone levels of bizarre. She’d been getting smiles and friendly greetings from students and faculty alike, and it was really, really freaky. She took a deep breath. Okay. Time to test how deep the rabbit hole actually went. She walked up to the teacher’s desk.

“Excuse me? Hi!”

The chemistry teacher glanced up and smiled faintly. “Sunset Shimmer, come to wish me good day? Or have you something of greater substance to say?”

The girl coughed. “I was just wondering, where do you want me to sit?”

The teacher cocked her head. “You may sit at your usual place in the lab. Do you find your group’s company to be truly so drab?”

“...I’m sorry, I don’t know which group that is,” Sunset said. “I only just moved here. From Oregon?”

The teacher blinked slowly. “My dear Sunset, are you feeling quite well? You’ve been here all year, from the very first bell.”

Sunset frowned. “Do you rhyme all the time?”

“For near three years we have known each other, and this mode of speech, I’ve ne’er eschewed for another.”

“Three years? I’m sorry, you must be confusing me with—”

She was cut off as an alabaster hand wrapped around her arm. “DO pardon her, Miss Zecora,” a new girl said smoothly. “There’s been a… minor incident. Nothing to worry about. I rather like that new jacket you’ve got, by the bye, stripes really do suit you.”

With that, Sunset felt herself being steered away from the teacher’s desk and toward a small group of students who were staring at her like she had just grown a second head. One blue-haired boy looked like he was about to say something, but the alabaster-skinned girl glared at him until he looked away.

“I don’t understand,” Sunset muttered. “Who are you? How does everyone know who I am?”

The other girl looked at her for a long moment. Her blue eyes were full of sorrow and deep concern. “Everything will become clear in time, darling. At least, I certainly hope it will. Until then, I believe introductions may be in order? I’m Rarity. This is Flash Sentry, Thunderlane, and…” she faltered. “Twilight Sparkle.”

The bespectacled purple girl, the last one indicated by Rarity, was staring at her with an expression that Sunset couldn’t identify. She smiled weakly. “Hi? I’m Sunset, but you… probably already knew that…”

Twilight smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

***

“So, you weren’t joking when you said we had some errands to run?” Sunset asked as the duo reached Sweet Apple Acres.

“No,” Trixie replied. “Twilight does keep Trixie rather busy, and if she can give you the grand tour of Ponyville while she finishes her to-do list… well, so much the better.”

“Killing two birds with one stone?” Sunset suggested.

Trixie stopped in her tracks, nose wrinkling in an expression of sheerest distaste. “Why would Trixie want to kill birds?” she asked incredulously. “Let alone with such a primitive weapon as a stone. You are a strange, strange mare, Sunset Shimmer.”

Sunset flushed, all her anger and embarrassment returning in a flash. “It’s just an expression,” she growled. “Humans are omnivores, idiot.”

Trixie took a step away from the sullen mare. “Trixie did not know that,” she said carefully. “That is a very interesting factoid.”

“What-ever,” Sunset grumbled. “Lets just get our apples and get back to the castle.”

“Trixie is inclined to agree.”

The two unicorns made their way up to the farmhouse, where Granny Smith sat on the porch, napping. Trixie put a hoof to her mouth in a silencing gesture. “Do. Not. Awaken. The Elderly One,” she hissed.

Sunset smirked. “WHAT WAS THAT, OH GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE?” she shouted. That was the awful, terrible thing about sarcasm, Sunset thought. It was just so hilarious.

Trixie cringed, cowering from the snoring green mare, who snuffled and snorted, shifting in her sleep… and then rolled over, cozying up against a pillow. Trixie let out a huff of breath. Taking a moment to glare at Sunset, she took a step forwards… right onto a twig, which snapped quietly.

“WAZZAT? WHOZZERRE!” Granny Smith demanded, sitting bolt upright in her rocking chair. Her eyes fell on Trixie. “Ah, t’s you ‘gain. An’ y’brought a frien’? Hmph.” She glared at Sunset. “Ain’t ne’er seen y’aroun’ ‘ere afore. Wha’s yer name, filly?”

“Uh, Sunset? Sunset Shimmer.”

“Hah! Y’can’t fool ol’ Granny that easy! Sunset Shimmer’s th’ purple’n. She got wings. You got wings, Orangey?” She poked her hoof into Sunset’s side, making the unicorn yelp. “No. Y’ain’t. But iffin ye wuz Sunset Shimmer, ya would have wings. Look at yer sides, filly! Now look at Granny. Now back at yer sides! Now back at me. You see any wings?”

Sunset shook her head slowly. “Wrong!” the old mare crowed, throwing her hooves wide. Loose, wrinkly flesh hung down, wibbling and wobbling distressingly. “If you young’ns stopped bein’ so young all th’ time, you could look like you have wings! I’m on a soapbox,” she added.

“Darn,” Trixie interrupted. “Looks like you caught her, Granny. This is, um… Spitfire, which is totally not a pegasus name.”

Granny gave ‘Spitfire’ a triumphant grin. “Takes more’n that t’pull the wool over ol’ Granny’s eyes!”

“Aaanyway, we’re looking for Applejack. Have you seen her?”

The old mare stepped off of the soapbox and hobbled back onto her chair. “She’s out in th’ orchard with that Spectrum Blast filly. Now, are you young’ns jes’ gonna stand ‘round shootin’ off at the mouth all day? Git! Go! Scoot!” She waved them along imperiously. Neither needed any further encouragement. Granny smirked as she watched them run. That'd learn them to respect their elders, she thought as she leaned back in her rocker. The fact that she had been purposefully acting crazy should be irrelevant.

***

The Doctor stared blankly at Twilight. “Sorry, you’re saying that your world has the capacity for travel between universes? And that Sunset Shimmer is from one of those alternate dimensions? Have you got any idea how irresponsible—”

“No, no,” Twilight cut him off quickly. “She’s from here, originally. She just spent a few years on the other side of the dimensional divide, hiding from the authorities and I did not make that sound even a little bit better, did I?”

The Doctor frowned. “Hm. Well, the universe doesn’t seem to be ripping apart, so I think we should be fine. All the same, I want to know who is responsible for all this-- this-- these multiversal shenanigans! Was it Sunset herself? No, wait, was it Discord? This does rather seem like their work…”

“I, um, I think it was mostly Starswirl the Bearded.”

“Ah,” the Doctor sighed. “I’m not altogether surprised, really. He was always one to meddle in things beyond his understanding…”

Twilight gaped. “You… you knew Starswirl the Bearded?”

“I still know him. Great thing about time travel is, you don’t have to lose touch with old friends, no matter how old they are. Or how much they cheat at cards, the bloody old goat.”

Twilight’s eyes sparkled in a way that reminded the Doctor uncomfortably of the time Rose had tried to interest his ninth self in anime. “Could-- could you introduce me to him?”

The Doctor hesitated. “As long as you promise not to try to start a transtemporal romance? Yes.”

Twilight blinked. “Romance? Who said anything about romance? I just want to confer with him about some scrolls.” The twinkle in her eyes did not make the Doctor any less discomfited.

“Right. Well. I suppose that’s alright then, he knows about the risks of time travel— hang on, we’re getting off the topic. The point is, interdimensional travel is a very, very nitpicky process. If you don’t have it just right, you might attract… hangers-on.”

Twilight frowned. “Like hitchhikers?”

“Sort of, yes. Except these take a ride in your mind, your heart, your very essence. It’s not unlike stories you hear about ghosts possessing people— ponies, sorry. It’s a tricky, dangerous business, and that’s when you know where you’re going. I suppose we can all count ourselves lucky that nopony’s been stupid enough to just open up the fabric of spacetime and run through it, hah!” he chuckled.

He turned around. Twilight had gone a very peculiar shade of lavender. “...Twilight?”

“Okay, I just want to make it clear that this was completely the fault of an alternate-universe version of me who was possessed by dark magic…”

The Doctor facehoofed. “Right, okay, you are coming back to the TARDIS so I can do a scan on you. Right now.”

He led the nervous alicorn by the hoof out of the meeting room, all the while grumbling Gallifreyan curses against the multiverse under his breath.

The Prodigal Daughter is Homesick

Entry 37: Dear Twilight,

Okay, so I learned that you should always be careful what you wish for. I got a way to prove that I’ve actually changed, alright, but it nearly took down the entire school. I’ll fill you in on the whole thing later. Right now I really just want to sleep. Suffice it to say, I’m not the only problem Equestria’s gotten rid of via the mirror portal. ALSO, started a band. Dash started a band. I’m in it. I’m also… really freaking tired. Fluttershy suggested a movie night. That sounds… good. Really good. I think I’llll

Howdy, Twi. Sunset fell asleep mid-letter, so I’m just gonna finish up. She did good today. We all did. There were, I think, fish-ponies? Something called sirens. We kicked their scaly tails with the power of friendship and/or rock’n’roll.

So that happened.

Quick question, sugarcube, what in Sam Hill happened to my life?

-Applejack

“Is— she— gone— yet?” Trixie panted.

“I— think— so—” Sunset replied, equally winded.

Trixie straightened. “Good,” she said. “Trixie told you not to wake her!”

“Me? You woke her up?”

Trixie glared. “WHAT WAS THAT? TRIXIE COULD NOT HEAR YOU!”

Sunset winced. “Okay, yeah, that was childish of me.”

“You think?” Trixie snorted. “Come on. We have apples that need buying.”

***

Back at Canterlot High, Sunset examined the note that she had found taped to her locker. It was written in bright pink crayon on bright yellow cardstock. Overall, it was rather blinding. Squinting closely, however, she could just about read the message. “Dear… Sunny,” she muttered, deeply focused. “Welcome to… Canterlot High. As a… representative… of the school… welcoming committee… I would like to… invite you to lunch… with my friends… Look for the balloons. Your friend… Pinkie.”

Sunset set the invitation down. “Welcoming committee?” she asked. “I didn’t hear anything about a welcoming committee.”

She looked at the card again. It would be nice to meet new people…

***

“Look,” Applejack said, “If ya don’t want t’ come out yet, that’s fine. Granny, Mac, an' Bloom know, an' that's good enough fer me in th' short term. But damn it, filly! It's been months since we started goin' steady! Ah jest want a time frame here!”

“It’s not that easy!” Rainbow replied. “You don’t understand…”

“So explain.” Applejack said, sitting back on her haunches. “Ah’m listening.”

Dash’s eye flickered nervously. “I, uh, well… Oh, hey look, other ponies!”

Applejack glanced over as Trixie and Sunset entered the clearing. Glaring back at the pegasus, she whispered, “This ain’t over.”

“Greetings, Applejack, Rainbow Dash,” Trixie announced as she walked over to the duo. “Pleasant weather we are having, is it not?”

“Heh. Thanks,” Dash said, grinning.

Trixie smiled and nodded at the pegasus in the tree. Turning to Applejack, she continued, “I’m here to pick up this week’s order?”

Applejack nodded. “It’s out by th’ barn. Ah’ll help ya find it. Come on, Dash, yer comin’ too.”

Rainbow pouted, but not much, and swooped down from the branch. “So, Trix, who’s your new friend?”

“I’m Sunset. Sunset Shimmer?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Well, Ah’ll be! Heard tell of ya from Twilight, once or twice. Back from th’ mirror world at last? Well, it’s nice t’ meetcha, Miss Shimmer.”

“Sunset, please,” the unicorn corrected, with perhaps a little more force than she wanted. “Call me Sunset.”

“So, you met the human me, huh?” Dash grinned. “I must have looked weird without wings, and those… what’re they called? Like, forehooves or paws or whatever.”

“Hands,” Sunset said. “They’re called hands. But, yeah, you two were really great. You,” she said, pointing at Dash, “were the captain of the soccer team, and you,” she pointed to Applejack, “basically ran your family farm.”

Applejack shrugged. “Guess we ain’t so different after all.”

“What’s soccer?” Dash asked.

Sunset flinched. “You… don’t know what soccer is?” she asked.

Dash frowned. “Should I?”

“Well, you know… your human self did…”

“And Trixie’s human self was apparently some kind of buzzing insect,” Trixie said. “Like Twilight said, reflections aren’t always perfect.”

“That… that’s not what queen bee means,” Sunset said.

Dash shrugged. “I dunno about any ‘soccer’. I mean, how awesome can it be with players that don’t have wings?”

“Excuse me?” Applejack asked, glaring at the pegasus.

“Uh, not that not having wings is a bad thing,” Rainbow backtracked. “But, y’know, Wonderbolts. Daring stunts. Death-defying dives. Can’t do that without wings.”

Sunset just nodded, and continued sullenly on as the others chatted amongst themselves.

“There! That oughta do ya fer th’ week!” Applejack said, cheerfully pointing the two unicorns at a small wagon full of apples.

Sunset’s jaw dropped. “Wha— huh— how do you— how can anyone eat that many apples in a week?” she gasped.

Trixie shrugged. “Twilight Sparkle is the Princess of Friendship, and by extension, the Princess of Diplomacy. It took her awhile to get into the role, but now… well. Trixie will only say that we have a LOT of dinner guests.”

“Yeah,” Dash agreed, grinning. “It’s been pretty sweet, actually. More new ponies and griffons and gazelle and everything else come by to visit Ponyville, like, every week. My old griffon pal, Gilda, comes by every now and again. Took her awhile to warm up to Ponyville, but I think we've given her some ideas for improving Griffonstone...”

“‘Course,” Applejack added, “Took us some convincin’ t’keep Pinkie from throwing a party every time someone new came t’visit. Ah don’t think anypony could stand that much cake.” She made a face.

Sunset had stopped listening. “So, you just use wagons to haul around your apples everywhere you go? Isn’t that kind of heavy?”

Applejack shrugged. “Easier’n carrying ‘em all in a bucket, an’ Ah don’t know o’ any other way to do it.”

Sunset paused and shook her head. “Right. Okay, yeah, you don’t have internal combustion engines here, so you don’t have cars, right.” She sighed. These versions of Applejack and Rainbow Dash seemed nice enough, but they were poor substitutes for the ones she had left behind.

“Hey, you alright there, Sunny?” Rainbow asked, looking concerned.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just a little… homesick, I guess. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Trixie looked up in mild concern when she heard that. “We are here for you,” she said. “If you need a shoulder upon which to cry, the Sympathetic and Solid Trixie will be glad to provide.” She glanced from side to side. “Er. And not to speak for anypony else, but Trixie is quite certain they will aid you as they did me.”

Dash nearly fell out of the air. “What? What’s wrong?” Trixie asked.

“Huh? Oh, uh, nothin’. Just a big dragonfly trying to crash into my face, you know how it can be…”

“Oh. Okay, well, Sunset and Trixie had better get going, now,” the blue unicorn said, using her magic to pull the wagon upright. “Goodbye, have a nice afternoon.”

Once the two unicorns were out of sight, Dash turned to Applejack, eyes wide. “She said ‘me’. She actually referred to herself in the first pony. I mean… wow.”

Applejack sighed. “Shoot,” she said, kicking the ground. “Guess this means Ah owe Fluttershy fifty bits.”

***

Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, was back at the Castle of Friendship, whistling cheerfully to herself as she set up for the party. Twilight, meanwhile, stood by the door, watching dubiously. “I don’t know about this, Pinkie…”

Pinkie gasped dramatically, and turned to face her friend, causing the ladder she stood on to wobble disconcertingly. “You mean there’s actually something you don’t know about? Wow-ee! Well, I guess nopony knows EVERYthing…”

“No, Pinkie, that’s not what I… do you think you could come down for a second?”

Pinkie scrunched up her face. “Well, I THINK I can, but I don’t know that either. It might be better not to risk it.”

Though Twilight was of the opinion that the exact opposite was true, she knew better than to start arguing with Pinkie over something like this. That way lay only madness. “Well, I was just wondering if Sunset would really want a big party just right now. She’s a little fragile, you know? Especially since she had to leave all of her friends behind.”

“But Twilight! What better time to make new friends than when you don’t have very many? Or even almost none at all? If Sunny’s in a grump, there’s no better way to stop her slump than giving her a little bump (or a kick in the rump) towards making new friends! If she’s all sad and down in the dumps like a chump with the mumps, she’ll just keep sitting there like a lump. So, I’m going to lift her over this hump, and for joy she’ll jump!”

Twilight blinked, nonplussed for a moment, but then smiled. “Well, I can see you’re really pumped about this,” she chuckled. “And I suppose you do have a point about her needing to make new friends. We don’t want to overwhelm her, though, so if you could maybe tone it down just a little?”

Pinkie regarded her friend closely. “Is this about the party I threw for the minotaur ambassador?”

“...Maybe a little bit,” Twilight admitted.

“I already apologized for that, like, a bazillion times! And the ambassador did say that he had never been to such a great party!”

“After he got out of the hospital.”

Pinkie winced. “Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll try to keep things calm this time.”

Twilight smiled. “Thanks, Pinkie.”

“Um, Twilight?”

“Yes Pinkie?”

“I’m over here. That’s a cake.”

Twilight squinted a little closer. “Huh. Sorry, Pinkie, I think I might’ve strained my eyes or something.” She chuckled. “Guess my parents were right, reading in the dark really has ruined my eyes.”

Pinkie frowned. She was no doctor, but she was pret-ty sure that eye-ruining didn’t happen overnight. Not naturally, anyway. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“I should. I’ll see an optometrist later this week. For now, though, I should be fine. It’s not too terrible.”

She turned to go, but paused. “Pinkie.”

“Yes, Twilight?”

“Could you help me find the door?”

***

Sunset stormed through the door of the castle. “I SAID I was sorry!” she shouted. “How was I to know Lyra would react like that when I asked her about Bonbon?”

Trixie glared at her. “That’s not the point! You assumed that everything in here would be just the same as in your magical ape-world. Well, welcome back to reality, sweetheart! We don’t all live according to the dictates of talking monkeys, and we especially don’t date whomever they think we should!”

“Ugh! You don’t understand me! No one understands me!”

There was a delicate cough from off to one side, and a male voice said, “Is this a bad time to say hello?”

Sunset paused. That voice was familiar. Feeling her spirits rise once more, she spun around. “Spike!” she said, grinning. Then, she froze. “Whoa, boy. What have they been putting in your Alpo?”

The tall, skinny dragon grinned, and Sunset couldn’t help but notice his numerous long and pointy teeth. She swallowed. “Heh.”

“So, you are Sunset Shimmer?” a more cultured voice asked. From behind where the dragon lay, an alabaster unicorn stepped into view. She stuck out a hoof and smiled. “Rarity. Charmed. Really, darling, I can’t say what a pleasure it is to meet you at last.”

“Um… nice to meet you too?”

“And, of course, my dear drakefriend needs no introduction.”

“Spike? Yeah, I mean he’s bigger and… well, scalier—” Sunset’s brain ran over the white unicorn’s previous sentence, and encountered ERROR 2+2=17, DOES NOT COMPUTE PLEASE REBOOT REALITY REDO FROM START. “Dr-drakefriend?” she sputtered.

Trixie facehooved. “Here we go again,” she muttered.

Rarity’s smile drooped slightly. “Oh, dear,” she sighed. “Darling, please don’t say you’re one of those awful speciesists?”

“What? I— well— look, in my world, Spike is a dog and you’re a human. It’s just a little unusual when you look at it from that angle.”

Rarity blinked. “A dog?” She stifled a giggle as Spike put his head in his claws. “You said that you had turned into Twilight’s younger brother. A dog!”

“See, this? This reaction here is why I told you that,” Spike said flatly.

“Such a naughty boy,” Rarity teased. “Better shape up, or—” she snickered. “You’ll not get— heehee— not get a treat later!” She dissolved into a fit of laughter.

Spike remained stoic for a moment longer before cracking a grin himself. “Does this mean I can’t get up on the bed?” he asked, smirking.

Rarity paused. “Don’t be rude, darling,” she replied, a slight smirk on her face.

“Okay, what?” Sunset asked. “No. What is this? Are you two even old enough to be doing… that?”

Rarity blinked. “Er… yes, actually. I suppose I understand the confusion, dragons do age... oddly. But yes, we're both in our twenties.”

“Okay, but—” Sunset took a deep breath. “Right. Not in high school anymore. You aren’t a teenager anymore.”

“I should think not!”

“Yeah, you’ve been twenty-five for all three years Trixie’s known you,” Trixie said with a grin.

The usually white unicorn turned beetroot-red. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said stiffly. “Come along, Spike. Goodbye, Sunset. We’ll see you at the party, later.”

“Nice going, oh Rude and Insensitive Trixie,” Sunset snarked after the unicorn and dragon had gone.

Trixie scowled. “You’re one to talk, Miss “Hi there, pony who doesn’t even know me, how’s your fillyfriend?”’

Sunset winced.“Well, when you put it like that, I guess it sounds kinda stalkerish,” she admitted.

“Stalkerish? Yes, if your information on Lyra had been correct. As it was, Trixie is almost glad that you got it wrong. If you had been right, that would have been a very long, very awkward conversation.” She paused for a moment, considering. “That is to say, longer and more awkward than the one Trixie was forced to have anyway. Probably. Maybe.”

Sunset growled, her good mood at seeing Spike almost evaporated once more. “Don’t you start on that again—”

And, still arguing, they walked into the castle, neither noticing that the lights in the hall were burning an unusually bright red...

***

Rainbow smiled in her sleep. She dreamed that she was flying with the Wonderbolts— not an unusual occurrence nowadays, even in reality, but a nice fantasy to have, nonetheless. They pulled off seemingly impossible formations as they flew, the ball rebounding from one player to another, almost seeming not to touch the ground. Wait, what? Ball? Dash took stock of her situation. She and the other Wonderbolts were… running? Across a field? A crowd was cheering from a nearby stand, and Dash saw her friends sitting in the front row. Pinkie and Fluttershy looked like they were wearing cheerleading uniforms, just like the ones she had seen back in high school.

Dash awoke with a gasp, falling out of the apple tree she had been using as a bed and crashing to the ground. Applejack chuckled. “Good mornin’, sunshine,” she grinned. “Pleasant dreams, Ah expect?”

Rainbow shook the dust from her coat and glared at the other mare, but without much heat. “Hey, AJ? Next time you wanna wake me up, just shout, alright?”

“Ah did. Six ‘r seven times, actually. Y’all were out cold.”

“Oh. Huh. So, what’s up?”

Applejack gave Dash a look of mock offense that couldn't quite hide her grin. “Can’t a gal just want t’ talk with her marefriend?”

Rainbow gave Applejack a flat glance. “Is this about getting me to tell everypony about us again?”

Applejack pulled back her hoof, her smile dropping. “Well, as it happens, no. Though Ah gotta say, Ah wish y'all would think about it.”

“Yeah, I know. I gotcha, it’s cool. I just... what do you want me to do?”

“Well, it’s a funny thing. Mac an’ Ah were buckin’ the west orchard, when we came across this… Ah don’t even know what t’ call it.”

Dash frowned, falling into step with Applejack. “What do you mean? Like, a weird glowing crystal thing, or a plant, or some kinda monster?”

Applejack just shook her head. “Whatever it is, it ain’t animal, vegetable, or mineral. Matter o’ fact, closest thing I can think of would be that Super-Squeezy contraption those no-good brothers had.”

Dash scowled in recollection. “D’you think it’s theirs? If they’re trying to make trouble, I swear I’ll buck ‘em to the moon and back for ya.”

Applejack chuckled. “Leave off their return ticket, an’ y’all might just have a deal,” she said. “But, nah, Ah don’t reckon it’s them. Fer one thing, it’s too quiet. Iffin it was them conponies again, they’d be back with all their jingles an slogans an’ whatnot. This contraption jest… sits there.”

“Huh. Maybe we should get Twilight?”

“Thought about it, but Ah figger she’s got enough on her plate right now with Miss Sunshine Sunset. Let’s see if we can’t solve this one ourselves, sugarcube.”

The two mares entered a clearing in the trees. Mac, Bloom, and Granny were already there, surveying the whatever-it-was. Rainbow’s jaw dropped when she saw it. “Whoa…”

Whatever it was, it was big, about twice as long as a carriage and nearly as tall. Most of it was a glossy cherry-red color, except for the black rubber wheels and the panes of glass— windows?— set into its front. And there was a large, almost cartoonish, apple painted on either side, the spitting image of Mac’s cutie mark.

Granny Smith gave the two newcomers a sideways look. “Ah thought yiz were goin’ fer that unicorn friend o’ yers, Pinkie summat.”

“No, Granny,” Applejack said in the tones of somepony who has been over this far too many times. “Ah was goin’ to get Twilight Sparkle. Y’know, th’ princess? An’ Pinkie Pie is an earth pony. Frankly, th’ idea of her bein’ a unicorn is more’n a little terrifying. But either way, Dash was closest.”

“Eeyup,” Mac agreed, without looking away from what he was examining.

“What’s that ya got there?” Applejack asked, trotting over to her brother’s side. She peered up, then scowled and whacked him with her hat. “Quit admirin’ yerself in the mirror,” she snapped. “We don’ even know what this thing does! Rainbow, help me out here!”

“Oh yeah, m’hm, that’s right,” Rainbow said from the other side of the contraption.

Applejack looked around and facehoofed. The pegasus had apparently found the other mirror, and was even now watching herself flex in it. Throwing up her hooves, she turned to Granny Smith. “That’s it. Ah’m goin’ into town t’ get th’ Doctor. Won’t be long.”

The old mare furrowed her eyebrows. “Doctor? Ain’t nopony sick, young’n! An’ doctor who, anyhow?”

It was only through incredible reserves of self-control that Applejack managed to keep from rolling her eyes as she walked out of the orchard.

The Prodigal Daughter's Mother

Entry 63: Hi Twilight! Everything is really looking up for me over here. The school has… pretty much forgiven and forgotten. There are still people who The victory over the Sirens really did turn things around for me. I really think I’ve won over almost everyone here. How are things on your end? How's being a princess?

There was a knock at the door to Twilight’s study. The princess herself glanced up from her piles of paperwork. “Come in,” she called.

The door opened and somepony stepped through. Twilight squinted, but still she only saw a fuzzy, blue blob shaped like a pony. “...Dash?”

“What? No. It’s Trixie. Why…”

“Oh! Sorry,” Twilight apologized. “I think there’s something wrong with my eyes today. I can barely see my hoof in front of my face!”

The blue blob moved closer, and now Twilight could vaguely make out a smudge of purple on its head. “Perhaps you need glasses?”

“Yeah, maybe. You know, it’s interesting. My human counterpart actually needed glasses too. Maybe there are more similarities between our worlds than we thought…”

“Actually, that’s what Trixie wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“It’s… well, it’s Sunset. She is simply impossible.”

“Oh, come now, nothing’s impossible! Especially not friendship.”

Trixie sighed, and from what Twilight could make out of her blurry form, she had just rolled her eyes. “Not to question your platitudes, oh wise one, but Trixie begs to differ. Sunset has been antagonistic, insensitive, rude… not just to Trixie, either! She asked Lyra how her marefriend was.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, wincing. That was a sensitive topic for the mint-green unicorn— she and Bonbon were old friends and housemates, which led ponies to assume they were… something more. Over the years, that had worn down the normally genial cryptozoologist’s last nerve. Whenever the topic was brought up, she lost her temper, and for somepony as high-strung as Lyra, that could go very bad very quickly. “Well, she didn’t know…”

“No. That is rather Trixie’s point. She did not know, but thought it was safe to assume, and now there’s a scorched crater in town square.”

Twilight leaned forward once more, concerned. “Nopony was hurt, I hope?”

“No, no. It’s a small crater, hardly bigger than a table.”

“...Hm. Well, as long as everything’s fine now, I’ll just let Mayor Scroll handle that. As for Sunset, I happen to remember another rather rude unicorn with a superiority complex and a bad attitude coming to town several years back— a travelling performer. Most ponies around here thought that she would be that way forever, but she grew and changed for the better. Now, what was her name…”

For a moment, Trixie puffed up in indignation, but then relaxed, sighing. “Okay. You have Trixie there. Nevertheless! Sunset is acting simply intolerably! How can Trixie get around it?”

Twilight thought. “Just remember that she’s spent the last several years in self-imposed exile. She’s been beating herself up for… a lot of the time, really, and I’m still not sure she’s forgiven herself completely.”

Trixie appeared to consider this. “Plus,” Twilight added, “She was stuck in high school the whole time.”

The blue fuzzy pony-shape flinched. “Okay,” she agreed. “Trixie can see how that might impact a pony. She will keep that in mind for the future.”

“Try to be nice to her,” Twilight said. “Celestia told me she had something of an unusual childhood.”

“Oh?”

Twilight gave a long level look at where the blue blurry blob appeared to be. “That’s all I know. Even if I did know more, it’s not my place to say.”

“Of course.” Twilight thought that sounded sincere, though she couldn’t read her assistant’s body language. She would have to see about that optometrist’s appointment sooner than she’d thought… “Trixie?”

The blue shape, which had been heading out the door, paused and turned. “Yes?”

Twilight smiled sheepishly. “Could you get the lights? I could really do with resting my eyes right about now.”

There was a brief flare of pinkish light, followed by a dimness that spread across the room. “Better?”

“Much, thanks,”

As Trixie left, Twilight let out a yawn. She just felt so tired, all of a sudden. She would feel better after having a nap, she was sure. She was… abso… lutely… sure...zzzzz…

The alicorn slumped back in her chair, already sound asleep, her dreams full of technicolor bipeds.

***

Sunset stared at the lunchroom. Look for the balloons, indeed. One entire lunch table looked like it had been swallowed by latex and ribbon in bright blues and yellows. She hesitated. It couldn’t be that hard to make new friends, could it? Sure, she’d never had that many friends back in Salem, but surely— her train of thought was suddenly and abruptly derailed when her lunch tray suddenly fell from her hands.

“Whoops,” said a blue-skinned girl with a nasty smirk. “So sorry, Sunny.”

Sunset watched the other girl — no, there was no other word for it — saunter away, still too stunned to move. “Oh, dear,” said a cultured voice from behind her. “I’m dreadfully sorry about that. Trixie is something of a troublemaker.”

Sunset turned. The alabaster-skinned girl from chemistry was standing behind her, a slight smile on her face. “Do come and sit down, dear,” she said, putting an arm around Sunset’s shoulders. “I think it’s high time we had a bit of a chat.”

***

Flanked on the left by a pair of soldiers from her sister’s Day Guard and on the right by two of her own Night Guards, Luna strode quickly down the hallway, far more quickly than what would normally be considered regal. The guards, despite their training, were finding it something of a struggle to keep up with their princess. Frankly, she felt like just running on and leaving them behind, running to her sister’s side, but appearances had to be maintained. There was always somepony watching, even here in the palace. Especially here in the palace. She broke into a trot, the soldiers just about galloping to keep up.

At length, they arrived at a pair of old oaken doors, intricately carved with patterns of suns, plants, and ponies. Luna raised a hoof and, hesitating but a moment, knocked. “Sister? May we enter?”

Taking the noncommittal grunt from the other side as an affirmative, the princess of the moon pushed wide the doors to her sister’s chambers. She stared inside for a long moment. She glanced at the four guards. “Wait here,” she commanded. “This is a private matter.” The four stationed themselves at either side of the door with minimal fuss.

Steeling herself, she walked into the room. It was neither as bright nor welcoming as it normally was— the curtains had been drawn and the room’s inhabitant, usually so vibrant, was sitting alone in a corner. “Hello, Luna,” she said quietly.

“I came as soon as I heard. It’s true, then?”

Celestia nodded. Luna noticed that her mane was far more pink and limp than she normally allowed it to be. That was a very bad sign. “Would you like to talk?”

The princess of the Sun merely shrugged, not even glancing up from her desk. Luna moved a little closer to see what she was looking at. It was a book full of pictures, without benefit of conversations or even chapters. And what, Luna wondered, was the point of a book without conversations? What was the point of these pictures? She recognized her sister, of course, and she had seen some of the others around the palace, but who was that fiery-maned filly in each of them? She had never met—

...oh.

“Is that her? Your stu— Sunset?”

“Yes,” Celestia whispered. “That’s her.”

“You are not pleased that she has returned.”

Celestia actually did look up this time, surprised. “Oh, I am. She was the daughter I never had.”

Luna frowned slightly. “You were… close?”

“Luna,” Celestia replied, staring straight into her sister’s eyes, “I don’t mean that as a metaphor.”

The darker alicorn frowned slightly. “What do you mean it as, then?”

“She was more than just a student to me,” Celestia replied quietly. “She didn’t come to the academy in quite the normal way. A little over thirty years ago, she was left in a basket on the back doorstep of the palace, with a note saying that she couldn’t be brought up in the normal way, and could I please find her a home.”

Luna thought about this. “And… what did you do then?”

Celestia’s eyes were dewy. “I gave her one.”

The princess of the night blinked. Surely she didn’t mean… “You adopted her?”

“What else could I do?” Celestia asked.

Luna was about to retort when she realized that her sister’s shoulders were beginning to shake. “I was so alone,” she whispered. “Oh, so alone. Cadence was never around the palace anymore, most of our descendants had long forgotten their ancestors— save for the Bluebloods and a few others, who were all off in politics and parties anyway, and you were… still away... “

Luna stood gape-mouthed. So far as she knew, the last two times her sister had cried like this was when she had returned from the moon and the time she had been banished unto it. Celestia had always been strong for the public, strong for the nation, strong for every pony, dragon, griffon, minotaur, diamond dog, and everything else under her Sun. Luna had just never realized how much that that list had come to include her. She wrapped her weeping sister into a gentle embrace. “Shh, shh,” she comforted, just as she remembered Celestia doing for her when they had been young. “It will be all right.”

“No! She hates me. I drove her away from me! I was too closed, too secretive! I tried to protect her too much, and I made her hate me!”

“Sister…”

Celestia buried her face in Luna’s shoulder, her mane now as flat and pink as Fluttershy’s. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered.

“Sister.”

“I pushed her away. I drove her from me.”

“Sister!”

“I made her—”

“Celestia!”

The princess of the day blinked once and glanced up at her sister. “Huh?”

Luna glared at her sternly. “You are not to blame in this. Sunset made her own decisions. They were poor decisions, but they were hers to make. Simply because they were reactions to actions that you took does not make those choices yours. You are not to blame!”

“But— but— I could have stopped her,” Celestia whispered.

“Could you?” Luna shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But, if there’s anything that the Doctor taught us, it is that the future is the future, and the past is the past.”

Celestia smirked faintly, color rising back to her cheeks and mane. “That’s more or less the exact opposite of what they taught us,” she retorted.

Luna chuckled. “Well. No matter. The point is, it has been several years— how many years has it been since she left?”

“A little under twenty, our time. Not sure how that equates on the other side,” Celestia said.

“It has been twenty years. You have changed. She has changed. The world has changed. Sister, if somepony had come to you twenty years ago and told you that Discord would become one of our closest allies, would you have believed them? Things change, Celestia. Sometimes they change into beautiful things, such as caterpillars into butterflies. Sometimes, they turn into ugly things, like the film version of a book.” That got a chuckle out of Celestia, and Luna smiled for a moment. “But ugly or beautiful, they change. Trying to keep your relations with others exactly the same is as futile a task as stopping the phases of— um.”

Celestia giggled. “The Moon?”

“I might not have been about to say that,” her younger sister defended, though she too wore a smile.

Celestia took a deep, calming breath, and smiled calmly once more. “Thank you, Lulu,” she said. “I needed that.”

“Anytime, Celly,” Luna agreed with a grin.

Celestia hugged her sister once more. “Well! I’d better get to Ponyville. I expect the guards are just outside?”

Luna nodded. “I’ll have them see to your chariot.” Before she went though, she paused at the doorway. “I did mean that. Anytime you need to talk, I am here. You don’t have to be strong all the time, sister.”

And then she was gone, leaving a surprised, but not a little pleased, Celestia in her wake.

***

“So, she just handed you the journal and ran?” Twilight scratched her head. “I don’t know, Rainbow. It does seem very unlike Sunset to leave us like that.”

“But she’s still here,” Fluttershy pointed out. “She just, well…”

“Doesn’t remember us,” Applejack concluded.

Sunset looked around in bewilderment at the six girls. “I… I can hear you, you know,” she stated. “And I’ve never met any of you before in my life! I’m telling you, I just moved here from Oregon to live with... Mom and Aunt Luna. That’s it.”

Rarity looked at the fiery-haired girl thoughtfully. “You know,” she said slowly, “I’m inclined to believe that is the truth. You girls remember when we first met Twilight— our Twilight— who’s to say that this isn’t our world’s Sunset?”

A long moment followed that. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sunset said flatly.

“The statue in front of the school is actually a portal to another dimension that’s full of ponies,” Pinkie said matter-of-factly.

“Ohhh,” Sunset nodded. “Of course. You’re all delusional, I should’ve realized that already.”

“It does sound crazy when ya put it like that,” Applejack conceded. “But we can show ya proof! Um, somehow.”

Rarity snapped her fingers. “Ladies, phones out,” she commanded, whipping her own little pink mobile out of her pocket. Six more followed suit.

“What, are you going to phone the ponies?” Sunset snorted. “Sorry, we can’t pick up the phone right now, we’ve got hooves.”

“Not exactly,” Rarity said, turning her phone around. Sunset stared at the screen. Staring back was her own smiling face, pressed close next to Fluttershy and Rarity in a selfie.

“That’s… me. That’s the girl I saw this morning, isn’t it.”

“You gave her something of a start, it seems,” Rarity murmured.

“I gave her a start? She nearly gave me a heart attack!” Sunset groaned, rubbing at her forehead. “This doesn’t make any put the phones away, I believe you, I believe you, just… It’s really creepy to see your own face staring back at you.”

Cell phones were promptly returned to pockets as the fiery-haired girl buried her head in her hands. “Was she living my life here? Was she… God, was she posing as me to my mom?”

“What? No way, Sunset wouldn’t do that,” Dash said, supremely confident. “She’s way too cool for that.”

“Alright, fine. Where did she live? What has she been doing, wearing my face, using my name, leading my life, huh? What’s she done that I’ve got to answer for?”

Silence fell over the table as six girls stared at one another in shock and confusion.

***

Sunset paced around the library, checking the spine on every book. “Come on, come on, where are you?” she grumbled.

Trixie watched the orange unicorn from a distance. She had originally come in to try and make amends with Sunset, but she seemed preoccupied. Trixie crept forwards, watching the other mare carefully. The way Sunset’s mane flickered as she trotted along was almost hypnotic, seeming as it did to move and crackle like a real fire. “Ugh,” she groaned, stopping to bang her head against a shelf. “Where did she put it?”

“Are you looking for something?”

Sunset let out a short shout of surprise, spinning about-face. When she saw Trixie, she relaxed slightly. But only slightly. “What do you want?” she grumbled.

Trixie took a deep breath. Remember, she’s been a teenager for the past several years, she reminded herself. Obviously, she’s going to be a little touchy. “Trixie came… to apologize,” she said.

Sunset’s jaw went slack. “Uh?”

“Today has not been a great day,” Trixie said slowly and carefully, watching the other mare’s reactions closely. “Mistakes were made. Some of them were Trixie's fault, some were yours, and on most of them we share the blame. However, Trixie hopes that we can make amends.”

Sunset made no motion other than a slow blink. Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Well?” she prompted.

“I— yes. Yeah, sure,” Sunset agreed, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I… yeah, sorry, I spaced out there for a sec. But, yes. I’d like it if we could be friends.”

Trixie smiled in relief. “The Relieved and Jovial Trixie is glad to hear that. Now, you were looking for something?”

“Oh! Yeah, the Friendship Journal. It’s sort of an interdimensional communica—”

“Communicator, yes,” Trixie agreed. “Trixie has seen it before, yes. When it is not powering the portal between worlds, Twilight usually keeps it in a nightstand by her bed.”

“She… does?” Sunset felt oddly touched.

Trixie nodded. “I suppose she wanted to be able to know about what was occurring in your human world as quickly as possible,” she said.

Sunset frowned. “...You said ‘I’ again,” she noticed.

The blue unicorn blinked owlishly. “Trixie has no idea what you are talking about,” she replied.

Sunset shrugged. “Eh, whatevs. Thanks.” She trotted off from the room.

Sighing, Trixie stared into space. “Five,” she counted quietly, “four, three, two, one—”

“Um, where’s Twilight’s room?”

Trixie nodded to herself. “This way,” she said, trotting toward the other side of the room, Sunset galloping to catch up.

***

Applejack was no slouch when it came to physical exertion. She hadn’t done the Iron Pony contest and been in countless rodeos for nothing, after all. She was strong and fast and could run pretty much forever. Nevertheless, even she was having a little trouble keeping up with the Doctor. As soon as she had finished describing the strange machine in the orchard, he had gone a funny color, shouted something to the nature of “I knew it! I knew dimension travel would be bad news!” and bolted out from his repair shop in a dead sprint, leaving a very confused Twilight Sparkle behind him.

“What’s— so- bad— about— that— doo— hickey?” she gasped.

“Nothing by itself— but it’s a symptom— of a much greater problem,” he replied.

“What’s— that?”

“Potentially— the collapse— of the universe.”

Applejack decided that her energy would be better conserved for running.

***

Rarity yawned and stretched. “Goodness, what a pleasant rest,” she declared to no one in particular. She winced slightly as her back let out a disturbing cracking sound. “Oh, goodness.” She twisted once or twice, and stretched like a cat. Satisfied that her back was fully functional, she stepped out of bed and trotted downstairs.

“Spikey~” she cooed. “Oh, Spikey-Wikey~ Where are you?”

She paused, listening for some response. There came a muffled, deep, grunting sort of noise. It certainly didn’t sound like her darling drake… “Spikey?” she called again, more concerned. No reply. She hurried down the stairs, horn lit. The lower floor of the boutique was dark. Why was it dark? It was still the middle of the day!

Another thought struck her. Why had she been asleep? Why in the world would she close the shop in the middle of the day? The fact that she didn’t know distressed her more than any answer could. “Spike!” she called. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shape move. It wasn’t Spike, it couldn’t be. She spun towards it, letting out a shout that was half fear and half defiance— and then she stopped.

Rarity gaped at what she saw. Sputtering for a moment, she seemed to have lost the ability to speak. “SPIKE?!” she gasped. “Is that you?!”

Looking as perplexed as she felt, the large purple-and-green dog merely nodded his assent.

***

“Your majesty?”

Celestia blinked once or twice, then looked forwards. A guard was staring at her oddly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was lost in thought for a moment.” A little white lie. She had really been half-asleep, but it didn’t pay to let that sort of thing slip. “You were saying?”

“Your chariot awaits, your highness.”

“Ah. Thank you, Sergeant…”

“Sheen, your highness. Nacre Sheen.”

“Sergeant Sheen,” she said. Then, she frowned. “Is there something wrong, Sergeant?”

The guard blushed fiercely. “No, no, your highness.”

“You seem to be staring at my neck,” she said, frown deepening. “Is there something…” she cast a reflecting spell. She stared. “What in the world?” she asked, bemused.

For there, right on the side of her neck, was a massive spot of light pink spreading slowly across her white coat like ink across paper.

***

Applejack and the Doctor burst into the clearing. “Oh. Oh, no. Everypony back away, please,” the Doctor said, eyes wide. He trotted around the machine, pulling out his sonic as he did so. Positioning himself carefully, he aimed the screwdriver at the front of the huge vehicle. There was a fizzling pop from inside, and the Doctor let out a long breath of relief. “Good. That’s going nowhere fast,” he grinned.

“What is it, anyway?” Dash asked, landing on the top of the machine.

“It’s called a lorry,” the Doctor explained. “Or a pickup truck. It’s sort of like… a cart. Except it runs on petrol. And… and you have no idea what I’m on about, do you?”

“Nope,” Mac agreed.

“Right. Well, it’s a vehicle, a very advanced vehicle which should absolutely not be here.” He scowled at it. “Fortunately, I’ve managed to disable it. Less fortunately, that really doesn’t get us to the root of the problem. I think I’d better go and have a talk with Twilight. As for the rest of you lot, if you see anything out of the ordinary, anything strange or unusual or generally inexplicable, come and find me.”

He turned and made to trot off. Then, frowning, he turned around. “Has anything else unusual happened today?”

Granny rubbed her chin. “Ah found aprons an' hairnets in mah wardrobe,” she volunteered. "Never had them there afore."

“I found this weird ball in a tree,” Dash said, holding up a sphere covered in black and white hexagons and pentagons.

“Oh, an’ Sunset stopped by with Trixie,” Applejack said. “Ah wouldn’t of mentioned, but they’re th’ only other ponies that’ve been on th’ farm today, other’n us.”

The Doctor nodded. “Hm. I might just need to talk to Miss Shimmer as well, I see…” A thoughtful expression on his face, he trotted off, his brain abuzz.

The Prodigal Daughter Takes Note

Entry 96: So, Twilight. About your other self: she is adorable. And a dork. Adorkable! Ditto her brother. Wait, have you got a brother, too? Does he tell terrible dad jokes and cry during the Notebook? This version of him does. I bet yours does too. God, it’s just so surreal. She’s nothing like you and exactly like you all at the same time. I wonder, would the two of you get along if you met? Would your friends get along with their counterparts?

...Would it be weird to have sex with your counterpart, Dash wants to know. My opinion is yes, absolutely, but then again I’m not sold on the idea of sex in general. It seems inefficient and kind of gross. I’ve gotten off the point. The point is, your counterpart is adorkable. Did you use to be like her? I bet you were. She actually reminds me a little bit of myself when I was young. Huh. How ‘bout that?

GTG, AJ’s hosting a sleepover!

“Fluttershy!” Rarity called, hammering at the door, “Open up! This is an absolute EMERGENCY!”

There was a muffled, but obviously heated conversation from the other side. Rarity heard the phrases “She’ll laugh at me!”, “She needs my help”, and “She’s my friend!”.

“Please?” Rarity asked again. “Spike is in need of your veterinary assistance, at once!”

After a few moments more, Fluttershy opened the door. She looked her friend firmly in the eye. “Before I let you in, Discord wants you to Pinkie Promise that you won’t laugh.”

Rarity blinked. “Won’t laugh— I thought they liked laughter?”

“Not,” a familiar voice from inside the house growled, “when it’s directed at me.”

“Oh, very well,” the unicorn sighed, making the motions rapidly. “Now, can we please come in?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Fluttershy replied, quickly stepping back.

Rarity stepped into the pegasus’s living room. She frowned. There was no sign of Discord, and they weren’t exactly easy to miss. The only other being in the room was a very grouchy-looking dun unicorn in a formal suit. They glared at her with irate but resigned red eyes. “Go ahead, yuk it up,” Discord grumbled. For the second time that day, Rarity was lost for words. “I— what—” she stuttered

“If I knew that,” Discord growled, “I’d already have fixed it. How you ponies get around in such puny bodies is beyond me— I mean, you’re limited to traveling in four dimensions, and you can only control your movement in three of them!”

“Where’s Spike?” Fluttershy asked, glancing around. Rarity snapped out of her shocked stupor.

“Where— Spike! Spike, come in right this instant!” she shouted.

A gloomy-looking purple muzzle poked into the room. Fluttershy gasped. Discord sat bolt upright. Spike, tail between his legs, slunk into the room. “You see the problem?” Rarity sighed.

“Oh, my,” Fluttershy breathed. “How adorable! Who’s a good boy? Who is it? Oo is it?”

Spike let out a whine and lay down, covering his head with his paws. Rarity gave her friend a flat look, and Fluttershy had the decency to look abashed. Discord, meanwhile, had gotten up from where they had been sitting to examine the erstwhile dragon more closely. “Hm,” they murmured. “I was afraid of that. It’s the same thing that got to me.”

“What? What is it?” Rarity asked.

Discord rolled his eyes. “Well, I can’t tell you, you’ll pin all the blame on poor old me, who can’t even defend themself properly.” They pulled out a small speck and sighed. “Watson! Watson, play me a melody.”

A cricket leapt into the unicorn’s outstretched hoof and, picking up the speck— which was in actuality a very small violin— began to play a slow, haunting tune. “The world is so cruel,” Discord sighed dramatically.

Rarity raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Are you to blame?” she asked, point blank.

Discord let out a huff of air. “No,” they admitted begrudgingly as the cricket hopped from their hoof. “I had nothing to do with this. At all. Which, if I’m honest, is more than a tad irksome…”

“Well, go on then,” Rarity said. “If you say this is not your fault, I suppose I can believe it.”

Discord eyed her closely for a moment. “Huh. Do you know, I think you actually mean that? Very well. It’s chaos magic. A draconequus did this.”

“A draconequus… other than yourself,” Rarity replied. “As in, there are multiple draconocci.” She pondered this for a moment. “That is absolutely terrifying,” she said.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, either,” Fluttershy agreed. “Multiple Discords? Really?” she shuddered.

Discord scowled. “I feel so loved,” they snarked. “But, yes, there are others of my kind. Why not? After all, there’s more than just one alicorn, and this universe does like its ‘balance and harmony’ schtick.”

“There are four of you?” Rarity gasped.

“At minimum,” Discord agreed, taking a bit of relish from the unicorn’s horror and eating it on a hot dog. “After all, before our dear Purple Princess stopped being such a shrinking violet and turned into purple mountain majesty, there were only three alicorns, and I knew of at least three other chaos beings.” They frowned. “And none of this fits with any of their styles,” they murmured. “No mass destruction, no time loops or anachronisms, no chaos in the name of art… Ladies, Spike, we are dealing with an unknown individual, fueled by chaos magic. That individual is, at present, stronger even than me, which certainly doesn’t bode well for the chances of your pretty pony princesses. Unless we can stop them, the entire world, possibly the entire universe, will be turned on its ear.” Rarity and Fluttershy gasped as the room tilted onto its side, sending everything other than Discord sliding into a wall.

Discord grinned, suddenly. “Oh, it’s like Hearth’s Warming came early!” they crowed.

***

“We’re the worst,” Twilight said, resting her head on the lunch tray. “Sunset was our friend, and we literally know nothing about where she lived, where she got her money, anything.”

“You have more of an excuse than we do,” Fluttershy said morosely. “You didn’t know her for nearly as long as the rest of us did.”

“Yeah,” Applejack agreed. “All those times she stayed wi’ one of us, and we never even thought t’ ask about where she might live the rest of the time.”

Pinkie’s hair had deflated slightly. “Oh no no no no, what if she was living in an abandoned factory full of spiderwebs and arsenic and old lace, and she had to keep out robbers and bad guys with booby traps made of old paint cans and trampolines? And she spent Christmas there all by herself except for the robbers trying to get in through the basement, except oh no, the windowsill fell on their fingers and also the floor is covered in tacks and Lego—”

“Pinkie, you’re confusing reality with the Home Alone movies again,” Dash said flatly.

“Oh yeah! Those were really funny,” Pinkie said, brightening up. “We should try to do something like that the next time a big meanie monster tries to attack!”

“Focus, darlings,” Rarity said shortly. “There must be someone who knows where Sunset lives!”

Sunset shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Again, right here,” she muttered.

“Of course. Apologies, darling.”

“Rarity, if none of us know, who would? We were, like, her closest friends!” Rainbow said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We could ask my mom,” Sunset suggested.

“Principal Celestia? Nah, she wouldn’t let us see another student’s records just like that…” Applejack said, shaking her head. “On th’ subject, though; the principal is yer ma?”

“Adoptive, yes. My parents died a long time ago. I never knew them, but apparently they were old friends of hers. She didn’t find out about me until relatively recently, though, they lost touch before I was born. When she did find out, she decided to take me in, and the rest is history, I suppose.”

“Guys!” Twilight said, slamming a hand on the table. “Focus! Where would Sunset have lived? She didn’t have any family or connections when she got here from ponyworld, no money as far as we know…”

“She lives at the Hilbert Hostel,” a male voice said. Fourteen eyes turned toward the new font of information. Flash Sentry stood behind Pinkie, munching on a cookie. “Uh, not to be weird about this, but why can’t Sunset just tell you herself?”

“She’s the wrong one,” Twilight said shortly. Then flinched a bit as the girl in question winced. “ Sorry, Sunset. If it helps, I was 'the wrong Twilight' for about three months. Flash, how did you know that, exactly?”

The blue-haired boy took another bite of his cookie. “‘Cause I’ve been there,” he said, voice muffled through the crumbs. He swallowed. “What do you mean, the wrong one?”

“You know, like I was the wrong Twilight?” the purple girl returned, a trace of acid in her tone.

Flash’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Oh. I thought you looked different, Sunset. It’s the hair, right?”

“Yes, yes, the hair, big hit with everyone,” Sunset crabbed. “Where is this place?”

Flash blinked. “Uh, pretty close to the edge of town. I think I should be able to remember the way, if you want to go there after school.”

“We don’t want to go there after school,” Twilight said with a shake of her head.

The others stared at her. “Twi’, what in tarnation—”

The purple girl rose, and the light reflected off of her glasses menacingly. “We’re going right now.”

There was a long silence. “Twilight, we’ve got school,” Rainbow pointed out. Then she broke into a grin. “I knew being a bad influence on you would pay off eventually.”

***

Celestia sat in the back of her chariot, trying every spell she could think of to hide the growing spot of pink. Illusions clung to it, but the result looked something like white molasses, which slowly oozed off. Transformation caused her coat to fall out in patches. An invisibility spell led to a brief, yet memorable, experience of the princess getting to see her own internal organs. Celestia shuddered at the memory. Anatomy textbooks only told part of the story.

She shook herself out of her stupor, and reviewed her options once more. It was a very short list. Nothing would affect the pink spot. Perhaps, then, she should focus her attentions on a different part of the equation. How could she make it appear that there was nothing wrong to the eyes of her subjects? Mind control, even for something as benign as this, was right out of the question. Meddling with her subjects’ minds was utterly immoral. Perhaps a perception filter of some sort? Something that would make her coat appear to be white, without directly being cast on the spot, seemed the ideal solution. But such spells took a great deal of focus to cast, and time she didn’t have. Where could she find an artifact already enchanted to turn her coat white? She glanced ahead at Ponyville, rapidly approaching on the horizon. The light glinting off of her guards’ armor made her wince and squint. Then, slowly, a plan began to form in her mind.

***

Sunset followed Trixie through the arching doorway into the Princess’s bedroom. She blinked. “Wait. This is Twilight’s room?”

Trixie looked back. “What did you expect?”

Sunset glanced around the room. Pushed up against the wall was an old and unmade bed. Bookshelves covered every wall, and scrolls were stacked in piles on every surface in the room. There was an entire cabinet full of inkpots, and another one completely filled with quills. A tattered stuffed donkey sat in the corner of one of the desks, and Owlowiscious perched in a corner, fast asleep. “Okay, yeah. I probably should’ve seen this coming,” Sunset admitted.

Trixie smirked. “It was modeled off her old room, from before the library was destroyed,” she added.

Sunset stopped. “The library was… destroyed?” she asked.

Trixie nodded. “Blown up by Tirek when he escaped Tartarus,” she said, shaking her head. “A pity. Trixie never visited it when it was still standing.”

“Wow,” Sunset said softly. “She must have been heartbroken.”

Trixie nodded. “She still misses it, now and again,” she said. “Sometimes, Trixie sees her looking at old photos of it.”

“Huh,” Sunset said. “Wouldn’t know it to look at her.”

Trixie shrugged. “Twilight moved on eventually. She still likes to stop and remember it, but she has other things to think about, new friends to meet, new adventures to go on… If she spent all her time in the past, she’d never get anything done in the present.”

“Deep,” Sunset said, impressed. “You come up with that on your own?”

“Nah,” Trixie replied, rifling around on the other side of the bed. “Trixie was quoting Daring Do.” She pulled out a slightly careworn old journal and levitated it to Sunset, who caught it in her forehooves, only fumbling slightly.

She stared at the book for a long moment, caressing the cover softly. Trixie shuffled her hooves. “The Awkward and Disturbed Trixie has to go… somewhere. For reasons. Before you start sniffing the pages or something. Bye.” She trotted off as quickly as she could without it turning into a full-on gallop.

Sunset took a deep breath in and opened the book.

***

Celestia landed in the center of town square. Bystanders glanced up as she landed… and then went back to their daily business. Having a local princess and a resident chaos spirit tended to render ponies a little bit jaded. At the moment, Celestia was just fine with that. She didn’t need anypony watching too closely, didn’t need anypony see her horn faintly glowing as she cast the spell, didn’t need anypony to see through the illusion of a white coat provided by her careful manipulation of light around her, reflecting all wavelengths off of a forcefield mere micrometers from her body. She would have to hurry— this spell was taking an immense amount of concentration to properly maintain, and the pink spot was still growing. She nodded and smiled briefly, then leapt from the chariot and hoofed it in the direction of the Castle of Friendship. If she hurried, she could make it… “Princess? Oh, Princess Celestia!” a familiar voice sang.

Celestia’s ears flattened against her head. Quickly composing herself, she turned around, smiling warmly. “Good afternoon, Rarity. Is there something you talk to me about?”

Rarity’s smile seemed tight, almost forced. “You might say that. Could you come to the Boutique for a moment?”

Celestia hesitated. The boutique was nearby, and Rarity was trustworthy. She would have to hurry, but…

She realized that Rarity was already hurrying back toward the Carousel Boutique. Quickly, Celestia followed after, her curiosity now outweighing her other concerns. She slipped through the front door of the store just after the unicorn. She blinked, taken aback by the darkness. “Now, Princess,” Rarity began. “Before we begin, I’m afraid I’ve been asked to evoke from you a Pinkie Promise…”

***

Tears spattered gently over the ink and yellowed paper. Familiar, slightly crabbed and messy handwriting covered the pages with words that she remembered well. Here, a message about helping Fluttershy at the animal shelter— there, a message about team spirit, learned from Dash. On one page, she detailed her exploration of human fashions with Rarity. On the next, she reread her account of Applejack’s teachings of farm work and family. The page after that… she squinted. This was not her writing. It was a twirly, curly script, done in hot-pink pen.

Dear Princess,
Hope this letter finds you really really well! I just wanted to say that I learned an important friendship lesson today with Sunny! She helped me track down ALL my party supplies after they got blown away at our picnic party. A good friend is always there for you when you need them most.
-PINKIE PIE
P.S. Don’t tell Sunny about this letter; she doesn’t know I borrowed the Friendship Journal. It’ll be our secret.

Sunset smiled through her tears. “Oh, Pinkie Pie,” she whispered. “You’re so… perfect.”

“Gee! Do you really think so?”

“GAH!” Sunset leapt away from the unexpected party pony. “How long have you been here?”

Pinkie cocked her head thoughtfully. “Mmm. Hard to say… all afternoon, pretty much. Gotta get your party cookin’!”

“I— no, I mean— wait, what party?”

Pinkie gasped and stared at Sunset in awe and mild horror. “How did you know about the party? Did Twilight tell you? Or Trixie? Oh, I knew I should’ve made them Pinkie-promise to keep it secret!”

“Pinkie? You told me about the party. Like, just ten seconds ago.”

Pinkie gasped again and shoved a hoof into her own mouth. “Oh, NO!” she gasped. “Did I break a Pinkie Promise?” She thought about this for a moment. “Hm. Nope. No, I never Pinkie Promised myself I wouldn’t blab about the party.”

She brightened, and pronked out the door, once more in high spirits. Sunset stared after her. “...Party?” she asked again. “What party? Am I missing something?”

Her eyes fell on the book once more. Am I missing something? she wondered. Or perhaps... several somethings? The light seemed to flow oddly in this room, she noticed now— the crystal in the wall gave it an unreal quality, like the light of a dream. She blinked muzzily. Was she dreaming? Perhaps all this was an illusion? No more than a piece of bad cheese or a moldy loaf of bread?

She was aroused from her daze by a crashing clatter from down the hall. The spell broken, she ran towards the disturbance, pausing only to grab the friendship journal from where it lay on the floor. The light in the room seemed to glow red for the space of an eyeblink before returning to its original hue and lustre, all traces of illusion now gone. Gone, that is, save for a quickly-moving streak of red light refracting through the translucent walls of crystal…

***

The van streaked down the streets like rain down a windowpane. Flash’s knuckles were bleached white. “I cannot believe you talked me into this,” he groaned.

“You can’t believe it? I’m the principal’s newly-adopted daughter, for pity’s sake,” Sunset moaned, curling into the fetal position in the back of the Rainbooms’ band van (formerly belonging to Fluttershy’s brother until he decided that a furniture moving service was too much work to continue).

“Hey, at least I thought ahead enough to cover for us all,” Twilight retorted.

“You did? How?” Dash asked, leaning forward in her seat.

***

“Now, who can answer question twenty-three? Mmm, Miss Pie?” The querying, monocled blue eye of Canterlot High’s physics professor blinked once, settling on a mass of candyfloss in the third row.

“Ooh, um, the mass rotates around the origin with a period of T=1.1 seconds, which sounds really fun! I’m gonna try it!”

“Mm, while that is correct, Miss Pie, I would ask that you please return to your chair.”

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Thorax did as Dr. Turner requested.

“You really need to stop getting yourself into these sorts of things,” the boy muttered to himself. “Just because a girl has a nice dog doesn’t mean you should just drop everything for her. Even if she does promise you a kiss…”

A dopey smile passed over his face. “Well, just this once,” he hummed. Then he let out a strangled gasp as the bright pink wig slipped over his face.

***

“Not important!” Twilight said brightly. “What is important is answers! We need to figure all of this out, and I don’t think we can do that until we understand where Sunset—” she hesitated, glancing at the orange girl now spread eagle in the back of the van. “Where the other Sunset was coming from.”

“Ah reckon ya might be onto somethin’,” Applejack agreed from her hard-won shotgun position. “Even if it ain’t nothin’ ta help us find her, we oughta know more about her. We… we just… just in case.”

No one asked just in case of what. It was possible that none of them really knew. Flash’s hands grew almost tighter on the wheel, if such a thing were possible. “We’re nearly there,” he said, staring straight ahead.

Dash tapped her index fingers together nervously. “So, uh, Sunset… you any good at music?”

“Rainbow!” virtually everyone else shouted as one.

***

The Doctor’s breaths were labored now. He leaned against a nearby storefront, panting like a dog. He just didn’t understand— running at these sorts of speeds, even at such a distance, was nothing new to him, and this was one of the fittest bodies he’d had in a long time. He registered that the door to the shop had just swung open, and that a mare was staring at him. “Sir? Doctor? Are you alright?”

He glanced up. “‘M fine,” he muttered, struggling to stand up straight. “No worries, Miss…” what was her name? “Hyacinth?”

The pink mare blanched slightly. “It’s Lily,” she replied. “Look, you’re obviously not fit to be walking around town, Doctor Turner. Just come in— you’re not sick are you?” she gasped suddenly.

“Hn? No. No, I doubt it. Your diseases wouldn’t really affect me, different biology and that. I’m just… tired.”

He slumped against the side of the store. His eyes were growing foggy. This all felt familiar, but he couldn’t place how… Hold on, the mare was saying something. “Hm? What’s that, Violet?” he asked.

“Doctor! You’re glowing!”

Oh. Yes, quite. That again. “No,” he muttered. “No, you can’t do this— can’t do this to me. Can’t change my face without my say-so…”

Lily stared in horror as the golden glow grew brighter and brighter, unable to move or even speak. Eventually, she compromised on a scream.

***

Celestia stared in mute shock. Her fur turning pink? Okay, there was probably an explanation for that. Frankly, she had quietly suspected Discord, right up until she’d seen them, scowling, in his pony form. That, too, was not altogether impossible to accept— Discord was hardly one to adhere to the laws of the universe, and that had had consequences for them on multiple occasions. They were, however, unlikely to pull this trick merely on a whim, and even less likely to not gloat about their trickery. “You’re sure this was the work of another draconequus,” she said. “Not your daughter, or one of the others?”

“Daughter?” Fluttershy asked, surprised.

Discord smiled at the pegasus. “Ah. You’ve not met my dear, darling Screwball yet, have you? Another day, perhaps.” They turned back to Celestia, the smile melting from their face. “In short, this simply isn’t Screwball’s style, nor Paradox’s. As for my dear sibling…” Their eyes went as hard and cold as space debris. “Well. Suffice it to say that we would all know if that had escaped.”

Celestia sighed. “So, where does that leave us? We are dealing with a being that could be anywhere, look like anything, DO anything, and is already meddling with the fabric of reality. Is there anything I’m missing?”

“A sense of humor, perhaps?” Discord suggested wryly. “Or, no, I know! You need a new outfit to match your new coat!”

Rarity regarded the princess thoughtfully. “Hm. They may have a point, at that… something in light blue, perhaps? No, no, that wouldn’t do… not without some yellow trim, anyway.”

Celestia coughed. “I feel we may be getting away from the matter at hoof,” she said.

“Oh!” Rarity blushed. “Yes, of course.” Inside, she cursed her bad luck— she could have had the chance to completely design the princess’s new wardrobe!

Celestia paced. “The question is, has anything else happened? You say you tried to keep quiet about your changes, so it is, admittedly, likely that others will do the same— but have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Peculiar changes in others? Anachronisms? Anything unusual at all?”

“HELP!” a voice screeched from outside. “Doctor Turner is on FIRE!”

Fluttershy raised a hoof timidly. “Does that count?”

Celestia considered. “Well… maybe. The Doctor always was one to get in that sort of situation. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check.”

Discord groaned. “Do we have to?” they whined. “I can’t be seen like this, I have an image to maintain!”

Celestia facehooved. “Rarity? Would you bring Discord something so they can cover up? By all means, charge the bill to the Crown, it’ll make an interesting point at the annual budget meetings, if nothing else.”

The Prodigal Daughter Doesn't Do Much of Anything

Entry 117: Dear… other me?

God, this is so weird

Other Twilight

Princess, hi. It’s me. Twilight. The other one. Can’t even talk to myself normally, jeez...Um.

So this might sound a little personal, but

Were you and Sunset very close at all in Ponyland? She talks about you. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot. It’s a little anno So were you together at all? Are you still together? I… I need to know. For reasons of scientific importance. And no other reason.

Have you worked out your sexuality yet? Can you help me figure out mine? My parents are accepting, I know that, but…

I like Sunset

I like Flash

I want them both

Sunset also likes Flash? Or she did.

((S||F) , !(S&&F))

Write me back.

Don’t write me back. Why did I write this here? I’m tearing this page out so Sunset won’t see it.

Sunset skittered to a halt just before she would have crashed into a pile of debris that clogged the hallway. “What the—” she muttered, staring at the mess.

Construction-paper leaves in various autumnal shades now festooned the floor, and garlands of red and yellow paper chains were scattered everywhere. Hesitantly, she poked at the mountain of arts and crafts. “How did this happen?”

A rustling noise suddenly caught her attention. There was something alive in this paper pile! Slowly, Sunset backed away, watching the moving area of papers carefully. No telling what it could be, after all. She lit her horn with a defensive spell as the mass of cartoony jack-o-lanterns and fall leaves began to rise up, falling away from the rising form of…

“Pinkie?” Sunset asked, blinking.

The pink party pony shook herself before looking at Sunset. She smiled. “Oh, hi Sunny! What are you doing here?”

Sunset allowed the spell she had prepared to dissipate. “I could ask you the same thing. What’s with all this?”

Pinkie glanced around at the piles of party decorations surrounding them, and slowly her smile faded. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I thought this was where I stored my emergency cake stash, but I guess that must be another closet. It’s funny though. I don’t remember hiding my emergency Nightmare Night party decorations in here…”

“Emergency cake stash?”

Pinkie brightened. “Mhm! I keep them hidden AAAALLL across Equestria, just in case I need to throw an emergency party! Or if I need a snack! Or I want to throw an emergency snack party!”

Sunset just shook her head in disbelief. “You’re going to be cleaning all this up, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Pinkie agreed casually, glancing around. “You just leave all this to Aunt Pinkie.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m at least a decade older than you are,” Sunset replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Eh, potato, tomato, po-tah-to, to-mah-to,” Pinkie shrugged, before diving back into the chaos of the paper scraps.

Shaking her head and smiling faintly, Sunset walked back down the corridor, not noticing the orange paper leaf stuck to her hoof— nor the faint, angry hum that seemed to come from the walls themselves.

***

Flash parallel-parked the van right next to a fairly old neon sign which read ‘Hilbert's Hostel’. It sputtered, and one of the letters was still flickering on even in the middle of the afternoon. The girls stared. “Oh, my,” Fluttershy whispered.

“Honestly, it’s better than it looks,” Flash admitted. “The landlady is kind of crazy, but she’s nice enough.”

“Ah dunno ‘bout this,” Applejack said doubtfully, climbing out of the van and staring at the boarding house. It was a rundown old duplex, formerly 2A and 2B Tesseract Road, though some clever graffito had turned them into “2B” and “Not 2B”. The brickwork was decaying rather badly, and some of the windows were cracked in odd spots, reminiscent of lightning strikes. The yard, on the other hand, was well-maintained and trimmed.

“Aw, come on girls!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Look, it has a lawn gnome! Nobody bad has a lawn gnome, everyone knows that.”

“I didn’t know that,” Sunset supplied.

“Welp, you do now!” Pinkie beamed.

Flash, meanwhile, was heading towards the door, Dash and Twilight close on his heels. “Okay,” he said. “Just so you know, things are gonna get weird fast. Just smile and nod like nothing’s wrong.”

“Pinkie protocol, alright,” Twilight agreed.

Dash frowned. “Is this something we’re gonna need to rainbow-friendship-laser?”

Flash hesitated. “...Dunno. Ever look at anything by, uh, that guy that did the picture with the stairs?”

Dash looked blank. “Escher?” Twilight suggested.

“Yeah. Imagine if he went into architecture.”

“Pfft,” Dash laughed. “You’re making all this fuss ‘cause her interior designer’s a wacko?” She punched the boy in the shoulder. “You had me worried.”

Flash rubbed his forehead and rang the bell. The sound of knocking on a door echoed across the yard.

There was silence. “...What happens if you try to knock?” Rarity asked, cautious.

“I never want to know,” Flash said neutrally.

“Pinkie, no,” Applejack said.

The frizzy-haired girl pouted, lowering her fist as the door swung open with a slam.

A bright green woman of indeterminate age blinked out at them. Large, coke-bottle glasses hid much of her face. One lens was red, and the other blue. Wristwatches, both digital and analog, decorated her arms like bangles. “Oh. Hello again, Flash,” she said brightly, wiggling her fingers merrily at him. “Are we having a party?”

The blue-haired boy smiled tightly. “Not exactly, Miss Paradox,” he said. “We need to see Sunset’s room, please.”

The green woman cocked her head and raised a brow. “I’m sorry, but I’d need permission from Sunset herself, first. And no matter how convincing a facsimile that girl there is, she is no lodger of mine.”

Sunset blinked. “Wait. You can tell? You’re the first person all day who—”

She was cut off by an abrupt handwave from the landlady. “It was obvious. You were surprised by my appearance and manner. Not to mention, you didn’t just use your key to get in. And you have different hair.”

“Please, ma’am,” Twilight said, staring up at the woman. “Sunset’s run away. We’re her friends. We need to see if there’s any way to get her back.”

Paradox regarded the purple girl. “You. And the lookalike and Flash. You can go look. The rest of you, stay out here.”

“But—” Dash began.

Paradox shook her head. “Butts are for cannoneers and kindergarten humor,” she admonished. Then she looked over the crowd once again. “You. Pink hair, green sleeves, you can come as well. That’s a full half of you, and you can’t say fairer than that.”

“Fairer than that!” Pinkie chirped.

Paradox narrowed her eyes at the girl before her for a moment. “Hmm. I like you. You can't come in, but I like you. You four, come in. The rest, wait in the van. I don’t suppose this will take too long.” She pulled back through the door, followed by Flash, Twilight, Sunset, and Fluttershy. The door closed behind them with a creak.

***

The Doctor woke, muzzy-headed and woozy, to the sight of… nothing in particular. The sky looked nice, yes, but it was hardly anything to write home about, no indeed! He managed to stumble to his hooves. What in the world had just happened? Frowning, he reviewed the last several minutes. He had been running, but had gotten tired and fallen against the side of a shop. The pony inside had offered him a place to sit, yes, well done that mare, whatever her name was. After that… after that… ah. “Dear me,” he murmured. “Oh, my, regenerated again. How terribly inconvenient.”

He looked himself over. Old again, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Just means you need to get someone else to do the running for you at times, hm? Green. Odd choice, that. Didn’t really suit him, and didn’t go with much of anything except black. And grey, perhaps. Something about this seemed really quite familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his hoof on… and then he saw his reflection in the glass window of the flower shop. He blinked. There was no mistaking those eyes, that face, even on a different species. “Oh, dear,” the first Doctor said with emphasis.

The market square was quiet, all things considered. Lily was the sole exception, as she continued to gabble to anypony who would listen about how the Doctor had burst into golden flames right in front of her, but most either assumed she was exaggerating (as was her wont) or that the incident was just another normal Ponyville incident. After all, everypony remembered the time three years ago when Trixie, Twilight, and Starlight accidentally created an artificial, fire-based life form that tried to reproduce by burning the town down. Glowing repairmen just didn’t measure up, even if they also happened to be time-travelling aliens. Across the agora from the near-hysterical mare, Rarity and Fluttershy kept a sharp lookout. “Clear,” Rarity hissed.

Discord stepped out into the open, clad in a pink floppy sunhat, sunglasses, and an extremely loud Hawaiian shirt that Rarity had intended for her father. “Sunbutt’s here too,” they added, nodding behind himself. They frowned. “I think. Invisibility is boring.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” a voice whispered in his ear.

The draconequus jumped, whirling around and seeing… nothing. “Oh, hardee-har-har,” they grumbled. “It is to laugh.”

They glared at the others, all of whom were desperately trying to restrain their laughter. “Let’s go,” they growled, “Before I change my mind.”

The trio of ponies, along with the erstwhile reptile and their invisible friend set out across the square toward the flower shop.

***

Pinkie frowned at the pile of party decorations. There was something weird going on here— no matter how much she shoved back into the closet, the pile never seemed to shrink. In fact, she thought, it seemed to be growing. Something rustled in the pile, and her eyes flicked to the source of the noise like a pair of bright blue laser sights. She drew closer to the pile. There was something in there. Something alive.

Contrary to what others may have believed, Pinkie Pie was not quite as silly as she let on. Admittedly, she was still very, very silly, but buried deep beneath all those layers of parties and fun and icing, there was a rock-solid core of common sense. She just usually chose to ignore it. Much more fun that way. But there were times when a pony had to be sensible— like the parasprite infestation, or when that meanie-pants Chryssie attacked Canterlot.

Carefully, she picked up a plastic jack-o-lantern and threw it just a little beyond the rustling noise. It landed with a gentle thump in the pile. For a moment, all was still. Then, a green, vine-like appendage reached up and grabbed the plastic pumpkin, dragging it under.

Pinkie nodded slowly. Very quietly, she walked backwards down the hall. There was a crinkling sound. She looked down. She had stepped on a construction paper leaf. She snapped her gaze back to the pile of decorations. No motion. With great care, she lifted her hoof off the leaf. It rustled faintly. Still no motion from the pile. Pinkie let out a soft breath, turned, and walked straight into a suit of armor which clattered to the floor. There was a loud, enraged screeching, but Pinkie was already too far away to hear it.

***

“I don’t see him,” Fluttershy whispered. “Do you?”

“I can’t actually see anything,” Celestia admitted. “That’s the trouble with being invisible, all the light gets bent away from you.”

“You’d think a flaming alien repairman would be easier to find,” Discord mused. “The only pony I see is that little old stallion there.” Reaching out a tendril of magic, they grabbed the suddenly miniaturized pony and dragged him to eye level. “Hello there.”

“Discord! Put me down this instant!” the stallion squeaked.

Discord chuckled. “And whyever would I want to do that, my little pony?”

The mint green stallion glared. “I saw you put in chains back in Anubis' court. I'd be quite happy to see it again,” they threatened.

The draconequus gaped. “Doctor? Good heavens, I didn’t even recognize you. No, don’t tell me, you got a new haircut?”

“This is hardly the time for flippancy!” the elderly Time Lord grumbled.

“Doctor? What’s happened? Rarity, is it safe for me to become visible again?”

The unicorn glanced around. “Yes, I should say so,” she replied. Discord quickly dropped the Doctor and restored him to his normal size.

Celestia blinked once or twice, adjusting to the light. “Hate those illusion spells,” she muttered. Glancing up, her eyes went wide. “Doctor! You’ve changed!”

“Remarkably astute,” the stallion replied drily. “Something— or somepony, I suppose— has caused me to— well, there’s really no word for it, you see? Unregenerate, perhaps? Yes, yes, that will do for now. At any rate, between that and the events at the apple orchard, I strongly suspect— Sweet Rassilon! What’s happened to your coat?”

The pinkness had spread, in patches and spots, all across the princess’s barrel. It looked like she had been hit with a glass of strawberry lemonade that had been fired from a cannon. The Doctor glanced around him, taking in the inexplicable changes that the others had undergone. “Dear, dear,” he tutted. “I knew that mirror would lead to trouble, hm?”

“Mirror?” Rarity asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Mm. Quite so, quite so. Blasted Starswirl. Always sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, mm, yes indeed.”

Fluttershy blinked. “You mean— the mirror portal?”

“Hm? Well, what else would I mean, child?” the elderly stallion snipped. “We’d better get to the castle before any more damage is—” he was cut off as the ground shook ominously.

“We’d better go and make sure that nothing else goes wrong,” Rarity concluded. “Yes, I am rather inclined to agree, darling.”

The Doctor rubbed his chin. “Mhm. Quite. Celestia, you should go keep your student occupied-- I suspect she's more tangled up in this than even she knows. The rest of us will go ensure the safety of reality as it stands.”

Discord groaned. “Do we have to?” they asked. “Things are getting SO interesting…”

Fluttershy gave him a look— not quite a Stare, but an expression which indicated that one could be very easily arranged if a certain draconequus didn’t shape up quickly. Discord rolled their eyes. “Fine,” they muttered. “If we must, we must.”

The Doctor nodded. “Mm, excellent. Discord, you and Butterfly go around to the left. Miss Asperity and I will circle around to the right. We’ll meet at the mirror portal, hm?” He nodded, not giving anypony else time to object. “Well? What are you all waiting around for? Let’s be on our way!” With that, he trotted off in the direction of the castle.

Rarity watched him go. “What just happened?”

Celestia shrugged helplessly. "He's changed a great deal over the years," she said.

***

Sunset sat back in a comfortable chair, touching the journal’s cover gently with one hoof, tracing the design. Her eyes widened as it suddenly vibrated, letting off a brief glow. Someone had written in the journal. She let the pages fall open to the most recent message.

Hey, Princess, something really weird is going on. Sunset’s acting like she doesn’t remember me. Or Pinkie. Or AJ, Rarity, Fluttershy, anyone! Could you come and, I dunno, do some kinda freakycool pony friendship magic? We’re going to try to investigate on this end, but… I dunno. Just… I dunno.

—Dash

Sunset stared at the note for some time. It was so simple— a quick, slightly concerned note to a friend. A request for help, because everything can be solved by hitting it with a blast of friendship, right? Everything can be solved with a wave of a hand… Should she write back? Should she tell them the truth? Tell them that she would never be back, that this other Sunset had forced her hand?

Such a simple note. Such a difficult question.

***

Twilight blinked awake. “Wha— huh— who—”

“Twilight!” Pinkie gasped. “Monster— big scary ghoulie-ghostie— hiding in the party supplies! Chasing me!”

Twilight squinted. “Huh? Pinkie, turn the lights on, I can’t see.”

There was a long pause. “The lights ARE on.”

“Are they?”

“Mhm.”

“Ah. Then it would appear that I’ve gone blind.” Twilight was still. Very still. “I see.”

“No, you don’t,” Pinkie replied before she could stop herself. She winced at her own insensitivity. Twilight, however, seemed not to have noticed.

“I can’t see. How can I rule fairly if I can’t see?”

“Um, blind justice?”

“How can I do science? How can I write?” She gasped. “How will I be able to READ?”

“Braille?” Pinkie suggested weakly, but it wasn’t enough to be heard over Twilight’s incoherent ranting. The crashing of something very large crashing into the door, however, was.

Pinkie Pie cast about desperately for something, anything, to restore her friend’s vision. Suddenly, she spied something shiny lying atop a pile of books— a pair of glasses! “Twilight! Twilight, calm down. Shh, shh,” the pink pony said, rubbing the alicorn’s back. “Let Aunt Pinkie take care of it…”

Twilight sniffled and collapsed back into her chair. “Now, let’s just put these on,” Pinkie instructed, placing the spectacles over the bridge of Twilight’s snout. “There! How’s that?”

Twilight’s eyes seemed to flicker momentarily. The banging at the door suddenly fell silent. “Better,” she said slowly. “Much better.” She rose from her chair. “I can clearly see what needs to be done, now.”

The glasses flickered, looking for the briefest of instants like a blue masquerade mask. Pinkie began to wonder whether she had made a very bad mistake. Twilight grinned broadly and levitated out something that looked like a powder compact. “For science,” she said, opening the case at Pinkie. There was a flash of light, and then nothingness.

***

Celestia inhaled deeply. She could do this. She could face Sunset again. In through the nose. Sunset had already forgiven her. Out through the mouth. She had already forgiven Sunset. Inhale. Sunset had forgiven herself. Exhale. She had forgiven herself. Hadn’t she? She paused for a moment, considering that thought carefully. One didn’t get to be as old as she was without having a high level of self-honesty. Lose that, and you’d go as crazy as Discord did. Did she still blame herself for Sunset’s actions? As Luna had said, there was no point in blaming herself for her pupil’s actions, nor in bringing up the past. Regardless, she couldn’t help but feel responsible. If she had only trusted Sunset more, then perhaps things would have turned out differently. Perhaps if she had let Sunset in on the plans she had for her, she would have stayed. What would have happened then? Would Sunset now be a princess? Would she have been able to save Luna, stop Discord, Chrysalis, Sombra, Tirek, and all the rest? What would have happened to Twilight?

She suddenly realized that she had stopped breathing for the last several seconds and let out a choking gasp. She shook herself from her reverie. Luna was right. There was no point in being trapped in the past, caught up in the what-ifs and could-have-beens. She was in the present, and she would have to accept life as it came to her. She took a deep breath and walked into the central foyer of the castle. She took a few steps in before her brain caught up to what she was seeing. Thorny brambles coated every surface, twisting and winding around the room. One or two twitched slightly, as though interested in her presence. Celestia frowned. “No. Nope. Not doing this again,” she decided. “The Plunder Seeds were more than enough for this century, thanks much.”

She turned to go, only to find that the brambles had already grown over the doorway. She attempted to walk forward, but the thick thorny vines caught and tore at her fur, which had turned almost completely pink. Celestia scowled and lit her horn. “Very well. Hardball it shall be.”

***

Discord grunted as they hauled themself over the edge of an open window. “I— hate— this— body—” they growled. “No wings. Oof! No— paws— or claws. Barely any— magic.” They let of a grunt of discomfort as they fell onto the hard crystal floor. They straightened up and brushed themself off with a hoof. “And I’m so short!” they continued. “I mean, on you it works, Flutterbutter, but I am a lord of chaos. I need to demand respect at all times!”

Fluttershy decided not to point out that most of the town considered the draconequus’s childish temper tantrums to be among their chiefest features. Instead, she merely clucked her tongue and shook her head sadly. “Don’t worry,” she comforted. “I’m sure we’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

“We’d better,” Discord grumbled. “I mean, you ponies— so limited! I swear, I will never understand how you get around in these little bodies.”

Fluttershy smiled and nodded. It was a technique she had perfected over many years of dealing with Angel. Suddenly, she frowned, suddenly registering something.“What’s that noise?” she asked.

“What noise?”

“There’s this sort of… whistling sound. Like somepony singing, but pitchy.”

Suddenly, the noise stopped. There was a long moment of silence, and then... PITCHY?a feminine voice boomed. PITCHY? The hallway ahead began to glow an angry red.

“Ooh, THAT noise,” Discord nodded. “I think it might be ghosts.”

“Oh.” Fluttershy took a moment to absorb that. “Can they… hurt us?”

“Hm. Not sure. We should probably run.”

“Okay. As soon as I stop being petrified with fright, I will absolutely take you up on—”

The phantom musician let out an angry shriek and roared toward the duo. Fluttershy was already at the far end of the hall, with Discord close on her tail. “See?” they cried. “If I was still in my normal body—”

“Less talking, more running!” Fluttershy shouted.

***

Rarity was torn. On the one hoof, she wanted to maintain her dignity and appearance as a lady of culture and breeding. On the other hoof, she also wanted to punch this stallion in the throat and swear like a sailor, an urge that was growing with every second that he stood on her shoulders. “Just a little higher, my dear— yes, that’s the way, lift with the back.”

“Remind me,” she growled. “Why am I the stepstool in the situation, darling?”

“Well, I can’t do it— I’m too old, hm? As for your drake, well! Dogs aren’t exactly built for this sort of labor, you know, no indeed. So that left only you, you see. Would’ve been easier if I’d been my second self you know, he was a thestral. Will be a thestral? Would have been— no, no.”

“Are you almost in?” Rarity snapped.

“Hm? Oh, yes, this should be high enough. One moment.” There was a grunt and a heavy thud as the Doctor hurled himself through the window. This was followed by a pained yip from Spike, who had been levitated in already. “There we are. Now, just grab onto this, my dear.”

Rarity looked up to see levitating in front of her… “A walking stick? Wherever did you get that?”

“Hammerspace. Very convenient place, do ask your friend Pinkie about it sometime. Always kept my recorder in there, or my screwdriver. Handy thing— or is it hoofy, I wonder? Useful, that is to say.”

Rarity, struggling to keep the homicidal urges to a minimum, simply tuned out the Time Lord’s incessant chatter and grabbed ahold of the walking stick, which rose (with effort) through the air and in through the window. “There you are, my dear Austerity, safe and sound, hm?” the Doctor said, smiling broadly.

Rarity did not smile back. “Let’s go find that mirror,” she muttered as she trotted away, “Before it causes any more trouble.”

“Eager to have your young drake back, I suppose? Hoohoo!” the Doctor chuckled. “Yes, yes, you young folk, always in a rush…”

“And I suppose you’re eager to go back to your wife and daughter like that?” Rarity asked without slowing or turning.

The Doctor’s face fell. “Well, mm, quite,” he said. “Still, it’s nice to be back. All these young faces running about, I ask you. Wholly unreasonable. Particularly that nonsense about returning to Gallifrey. And becoming president! I— oh. Hello? Is that you, Miss Sparkle?”

Rarity turned in mild surprise. There, hiding in the shadows at the far end of the hall, was indeed a familiar purple figure, with horn and wings, and yet… "Doesn't she look a little taller than usual?" she murmured.

The Doctor nodded, his face suddenly grim. "Yes... perhaps we should go the other way," he replied.

The alicorn glanced up, and the Doctor, Rarity, and Spike all froze. She was mostly hidden in the shadows, little more than a silhouette, but light glinted off near her eyes. “You’ve got new spectacles, I see?” Rarity asked, trying to keep her voice light. “Very nice, librarian chic. Very you, Twilight.”

The figure spoke. “I am not Twilight.”

The Doctor frowned, leaning forward on his walking stick. “In that case, I don’t believe I’ve yet to have the pleasure, Miss…”

The dark purple alicorn stepped into the light, her mane flickering like candlelight and her horn glowing a blinding blue. Her eyes glowed with menacing, ethereal flame. “My name is Sparkle. Midnight Sparkle.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure, Miss RUN, CHARITY, RUN!”

“MY NAME,” his companion shrieked as she galloped alongside him, “IS RARITY!”

“I FAIL TO SEE THE RELEVANCE OF THAT AT THE MOMENT!”

The Prodigal Daughter is Beside Herself

Entry 167: Well. This week has been hectic. Aside from anything else, I think we found this world’s version of the Elements of Harmony.

...I think, in a roundabout way, I actually did fulfil Celestia’s plan for me. How ‘bout that. There were seven of these guys, though, so I dunno.

Meantime, other-you started making goo-goo eyes at a camp counselor, and he was definitely returning them, with interest. Ew, by the way, on several levels, the main ones being a) it’s about sex, which is just… hard pass (I think I’m asexual btw. Been working that out for awhile. Anyway), b) he’s, like twenty-something and she’s seventeen which just strikes me as hugely sleazy, and of course c) I keep mentally equating her with you and it is SUPER SQUICKY. Just, NOPE. I think I’ve managed to keep anything nasty from happening pretty successfully, though. Suffice it to say, Fluttershy speaks skunk fluently, and I know Mr. Sleazy’s schedule.

So, everything worked out here. Maybe keep an eye out for a seventh element on your end? Ignore that, stupid idea, if there were actually seven they wouldn’t have worked at all, right? I gotta get going, we’re cooking s’mores and singing campfire songs. Laters!

Come back here! the voice roared as Fluttershy and Discord raced down the halls. You insulted my singing! I will make you pay!

What’s going on? Who are we chasing? asked another voice.

That’s Fluttershy… and isn’t that Superintendent Discord?

“Superintendent?” Discord asked. “Me? How dare you! I’ve never willingly taken any responsibility a day in my life!”

Ooh, feisty, the second voice giggled. Can’t we keep them?

What a good idea. Resonance, ladies. On three. One, two, THREE!

A deafening, shrill note rang out, reverberating around the hall. The crystal itself vibrated, utterly wronghoofing Discord, who fell painfully to the ground with a cry. Fluttershy, not noticing his plight, flew on, unaffected.

Discord rolled for a few moments before crashing into a wall. Dazed, they didn’t even register the trio of phantasms surrounding them until it was too late. Well? one demanded. Now what? You never think these things through, Dagi.

We could just hypnotize them, another giggled. Make them do the Chicken Dance!

“Come now, there’s no need for that,” Discord said, wobbling to their hooves and grinning toothily. “I’ll do the Chicken Dance right now if you want. Dada-dah-dah-dada-dah, dada-dah-dah”

They insulted my singing. They must die. the last one said bluntly.

Discord swallowed nervously, their grin frozen and plastic. “Well, you may find that a tad difficult, you know. I am an immortal, after all…”

Can you survive every molecule of your body being vibrated into their separate components?

They bit their lip, considering. “Not sure. Let’s not find out, shall we?”

The spirits grinned maliciously. Do...Re...Mi…

“What, you’re going to sing me to death?” Discord scoffed. The trio continued to sing higher and higher. The chaos deity blinked. “You’re serious. Wow. Okay, just—” Their horn glowed plaid and polka dotted for a moment and suddenly lAAaa?SooOOo? tTtTIii!

ouR VoicES! WHat diD yOU Do tO OuR voiceS?

Discord grinned maliciously. “Word of advice, ladies? If all your power comes from music, never try to take on the spirit of disharmony. Now, if you’ll pardon me…” They made to leave, but was blocked by the orange ghost. wE hAVE oTheR WAys oF DEStroyIng yOu, she snarled.PRePare tO MeET your DooM!

“Um, excuse me,” a small voice said. “But I think that you should let them go.”

Oh, HaI, flUtterShy! WHat do You WAnt?

The yellow pegasus shuffled her hooves. “Er. I was hoping you’d let my friend go, if that’s alright with you.”

wHY WoulD We do THAt? You TwO INsultEd us and RUIned ouR VoiCes!

“Well, I think I found something that might persuade you…”

The blue spirit gasped. Is iT TaCOS?

Fluttershy smiled. “Nope. Follow me, it’s just over here.”

Exchanging confused glances, the three ghosts and their prisoner followed the mare around the corner. thIs BEtter bE GoOd… one muttered, still sounding like she'd swallowed a busted auto-tuner.

Fluttershy smiled. “Twilight told me a little bit about you three. Sirens, right? Tried to hypnotize people with music? Really rude?”

YeAh, yEAh, whAT abOUt it?

“Oh, I just thought I’d explain this in the easiest way for you understand,” Fluttershy replied, picking something up off the ground. “I’m afraid that you’ll think this is going to… suck.”

With a flick of a switch, the hoofheld vacuum cleaner turned on. The ghosts stared at it blankly for a moment, then realized what was happening. No! nO!

LEt uS GO, YoU WImp!

TAcOs!

As the last spirit was sucked in, Fluttershy switched off the device, a smile on her face. “It’s funny,” she said thoughtfully. “Twilight described them as being flesh and blood, not phantoms. And they didn’t seem as powerful as she said, either. Almost as though they were copies of the real things…”

She glanced up to see Discord’s shell-shocked face. “...Wow, Flutterbutter. I mean, wow. You have come far, grasshopper. Obviously all due to my bad influences, of course, you mustn’t take any credit… But where did you get that?”

“Oh! Well, this is a very big castle, and Twilight doesn’t really need a lot of these rooms. So she turned a bunch of them into storage for cleaning supplies.” She nodded to an open door down the hall. “See? Right over—”

She shrieked and dropped the vacuum as an ethereal violet tendril stretched out of the nozzle. Discord quickly picked up the machine and hurled it back into the supply store. “Come on, my dear,” they said, trotting along. “I doubt we’re out of the woods yet.”

***

The inside of the boarding house was just as peculiar as Flash had suggested. It wasn’t distasteful, by any means. Actually, at first glance, it looked very nice. Dark, reddish oak comprised the bulk of the design; the floorboards, the siding, the furnishings, the doors, all matched in shade and style. Old-timey posters hung on the walls, interspersed with beautiful paintings and mosaics.

Yet there was something tremendously wrong with it. The wood grain seemed to ripple when not under direct scrutiny. The spiral patterns carved into the woodwork grew steadily tighter, moving in upon itself forever. Then there was the carving of a snake devouring its own tail. Twilight studied the posters. “I’ve never heard of any of these movies,” she muttered, gazing at the posters.

“They were never finished,” Paradox said cheerfully. “I’m something of a collector of unfinished works, you might say.”

“But I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a lot of these actors, either…”

“Of course not, their movies were canned before they made it big, do you want to see the room or not?”

“Right. Sorry.”

Sunset stared at a painting on the wall. “Is this… the Mona Lisa?”

“A replica, yes,” the landlady replied. “It has ‘This is a fake’ written under the paint in felt marker. Though, from what I’ve heard, so does the one in the Louvre.”

“Really?” Fluttershy asked, casting an eye over the painting.

“Well, it’s what I’ve heard,” Paradox said, taking a seat on an overstuffed armchair. “Her room’s upstairs. Don’t be long.”

“We won’t. Thanks, Miss P.,” Flash said, walking toward the stairs.

Fluttershy frowned as Flash started to walk down the steps recessed in the floor. “Didn’t she say…”

“Don’t ask,” Flash replied flatly.

The girls looked at one another, then followed him. At once, Sunset was struck with an overpowering sense of vertigo. “Wha…”

“Close your eyes,” Flash suggested.

“I’m climbing down. But it feels like I’m…”

“Close your eyes. Really,” Flash urged. “Just try to ignore it.”

Sunset took in a deep breath and did as the boy urged. “How did you survive your first time here?”

“I had the other Sunset showing me around,” Flash muttered. “Holding onto the railing helps, too.”

Sunset stumbled as a body suddenly collided with her back. “Uh, heh, I thought we could hold onto each other for stability?” Twilight suggested sheepishly.

“Oh. Good plan,” Sunset agreed, not opening her eyes. Flash took her other hand, and Fluttershy took Twilight’s, and the chain of teenagers made their way down/up the stairs.

***

“Come on,” the dark alicorn shouted as she chased the dog and ponies down the hall. “It’s for science! It won’t hurt. I think.”

“That’s really not terribly comforting, darling!” Rarity shouted.

“But you could both be important pieces of data! Maybe all three of you could!”

“Well, yes— perhaps so—” the Doctor gasped, “But what— if we— don’t want to be, mm?”

There was a sudden flash of light and Midnight Sparkle was standing right in front of them. “Science must come first,” she said, raising what looked like a powder compact.

The ponies skidded to a halt, trying desperately to run back the way they had come, but it was pointless. The compact clicked open. A blinding light began to seep through… and then, just as suddenly, it fell to the floor as Midnight was tackled to the ground by a blur of purple and green fur. “Ackpth!” she sputtered. “Spike! No! Bad boy!”

Rarity scooped up the compact in one hoof. “Spike! Heel!” she shouted.

The dog leapt off of Midnight and hurtled back down the hallway, where Rarity and the Doctor were already running. The dark alicorn snarled in irritation and gave chase.

***

Celestia took a long, calming breath. Tearing at the brambles hadn’t worked. Flying out probably wouldn’t have worked even if there weren’t burrs stuck in her feathers. Teleportation hadn’t worked. Whatever had made this trap clearly wasn’t messing about. But then, neither was she. Suddenly, she grinned. “Thank you, whoever you are,” she said aloud. “I’m not sure if you can hear me, nor even if you could understand me if you were, but thank you. These brambles are truly magnificent. They inhibit flight and even walking; they grow back too quickly to be torn away; they start to wrap around me if I stay still too long, which is inevitable in the end. You even made them resistant to direct magic. Are you responsible for my change in color as well?”

She paused, half expecting a reply. Upon receiving none, she shrugged, absently smacking away a vine which had tangled itself around her hoof.

“Very well made indeed. But, you know something? I am old. Very, very old indeed. You are not the first to try to capture me, or to try to kill me. Is that your goal? Possibly, possibly… not likely, but possibly… No matter. The point is, I don’t care how good you are at making traps, I am still better at escaping them. It’s only a question of method.”

She let magic flow out through her hooves, attempting to cast Torch Wood’s Deforestation on a nearby clump of briars. Nothing happened. “Magic resistant, as I said, even to earth pony magic. But, as I discovered with the case of pinkness you gave me, magic may still affect your works indirectly. Which brings me to my reason for thanking you— I’ve not had a chance to use this spell for the last several centuries, not since the fall of the Crystal Empire.”

Her horn lit a bright, distressingly high-energy shade of yellow, and Celestia screwed up her face in intense concentration. “The Doctor inspired it. Showed me a case of their old companion’s leftover experiments. They named it, too.” Her horn continued to glow brighter and brighter. A smile slipped across her face. “The Solar Surge.”

For a brief moment, the world was pure white, destructive light ripping a hole through the barriers of brambles that bounded the room. And then there was nothing. The walls glowed red. Charred vines and burnt tapestries waved back and forth. Ash covered the floor. In the center of it all, completely covered in cinders but unharmed, Celestia smirked. “I still got it,” she grinned.

***

Trixie scowled across the table at the pink-haired girl. The rather fey girl glared back. There was something unusual about Fluttershy today. Normally, Trixie could at least cow her into squeaking and burying her head in a book after a few seconds of intensive smirking. Today, however, Fluttershy looked ready to fight somebody. “Um,” said their fellow group member nervously. “Flu-Fluttershy? You haven’t said much about the symbolism Fitzgerald used this chapter. Um, there’s still nothing written for “Use of Color”...”

“Red,” Fluttershy ground out. “Symbolizes love and lust, which is why the apartment was painted that color. Buchanan’s having an affair. But it also symbolizes blood, like how Tom breaks Myrtle’s nose.”

“Oh.” Coco paused. “That’s good, I hadn’t thought of that last part.” She started to scribble on the worksheet, but Trixie quickly yoinked away the girl’s pencil.

“Nor had Trixie,” the blue girl said, swinging the pencil side to side, in an almost hypnotic motion. “What made you think of that, Fluttershy? Trixie always thought you too much a wimp to even countenance the idea of blood.”

“A wimp?” Pale, butter-yellow hands slammed to the table. “I’m no wim—” She cut herself off, and visibly forced herself to relax. “Um, yeah. Animals. Bunnies. Pastels.”

Coco glanced between one girl and the other. “Uh, are you feeling alright, Fluttershy?”

“Never. Better.”

“Uh, okay. Trixie, may I please, um, have my pencil back?”

A smirk flitted across the blue girl’s face. “Come and get it,” she said, waggling the yellow stick at both girls.

Coco feebly snatched for the pencil, but in an instant, it was gone. “Oops,” said Trixie, smirk growing.

“Trixie, give her back the pencil,” Fluttershy growled. “We—” She cut herself off, visibly restraining herself. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer, sweeter, but with an edge to it that was the least Fluttershy-like thing that Trixie had ever heard. “We need to finish writing so we’ll all get a good grade.”

“Mmm,” Trixie considered. “Nah.”

“Trixie!” For the first time, the magician realized that Fluttershy’s eyes weren’t usually purple. “Pencil. Now.”

“Ugh. Fine. Hey, what’s that behind your ear?” She reached over, and with one fluid motion, yanked off the silky pink wig, revealing short-cropped red hair beneath, and a smudged line between the butter-yellow makeup and the pine green skin beneath.

Pharynx desperately grabbed at the wig, but Trixie yanked it away. “Well! I’d heard that Fluttershy used hair extensions, but I didn’t think she would go this far!” she announced.

The entire class, Cheerilee included, turned to stare at the little group. Pharynx closed his eyes tight. “Thorax, I am going to kill you for this,” he muttered.

On the other side of the room, Kevin, presently disguised as Applejack, slowly sunk down beneath his copy of the Great Gatsby.

***

Sunset sat alone in the library, cradling the book in her hooves. She had been staring at Dash’s message for the last half hour, not rereading it, not even truly seeing it. She just stared. What could she do?

Well. Obviously, there was only one thing she could do. She gritted her teeth. She would have to tell them the truth. She had left them, betrayed them like she had done Celestia. They would understand, wouldn’t they? They would be fine, wouldn’t they?

Would they? A little voice niggled. Would they understand? I didn’t have to leave, did I?

Yes, I did, she thought. One plus one equals too many Sunsets. I couldn’t have explained that properly.

There was the oddest sensation of laughter— cold, and not a little cruel. Why not? A little more thought, a little more cunning… invent a long-lost cousin. Or a twin, maybe. That would’ve worked.

“No, it wouldn’t,” she said aloud. “Even if the rest of the school bought that story, the other me would never have gone along with it.”

Not at first, perhaps, the little voice acknowledged. But… well, I’ve got magic, haven’t I?”

“Wha— No! Hypnosis— mind control— no. That’s completely immoral!”

“Never stopped me before.”

“Before? Before I realized how stupid and selfish I was being? Before I stopped hurting people? Before I became a better person?”

“Better? No. You changed. You became weaker.”

“No— no, I didn’t—” Sunset shook her head. “I got friends, lots of friends!”

“Well, regardless— It would only have been yourself you were controlling, wouldn’t it? That’s alright, isn’t it? You always have the right to control yourself, right?”

“I— well, I suppose—”

“Glad to hear you agree,” the little voice said from directly behind her. Sunset leapt from the chair, the journal falling to the wayside as she looked, for the second time that day, at an exact copy of herself.

“Who— who are you?” Sunset demanded.

Her duplicate merely smiled. “I’m you, Sunset. Ever hear of being beside yourself?”

Sunset paused. She picked up a book and opened it to a random page. It was filled with squiggles, illegible and random. “This is a dream, isn’t it,” she said. “I fell asleep in the library, and now I’m having this freaky dream.”

Her double merely nodded. “Right,” said Sunset. “I think I’d like to wake up now.”

“Not yet,” her double said. “First, you need to make a decision.”

“Alright,” Sunset said warily, sitting down on an armchair across from herself. “What decision might that be?”

“You know what choice I mean. Come on, it’s been eating you up all day,” DoppelSunset said with a Cheshire Cat grin. “Go back to where you’re from— or go home.”

“I—” Sunset said, then stopped. A wave of emotions ran over her, images and feelings running together. The love she had felt for the mare she had once called “mother”. Celestia’s face the day she had left. The rage and hatred that Sunset had built in her heart against her.

Now, the bonds she had forged with Pinkie Pie. That same betrayed expression on Fluttershy’s face. The anger that must be boiling through Twilight’s veins when she found that her closest friend had just… left her.

“No,” said Sunset softly. “No, not again.” Her eyes glowing with a dazzling light, she shrieked, “I WILL NOT LOSE THEM! I WILL NOT!”

The Prodigal Daughter Goes Through the Looking-Glass

Entry 193: Ran into Principal Celestia the other day. She was acting really weird. Like, ‘Twilight-go-check-that-your-side’s-Celestia-hasn’t-snuck-through-the-mirror’ weird. She kept asking me about my parents and apologizing. Then she hugged me and promised that she would make everything right. So… that’s good? I get the sense that this means something really bad for me, though. I legally don’t exist over here. The main reason I got into high school was because I bribed my landlady to pretend to be my mom in exchange for my doing the dishes every night.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure something really big is about to go down. So, be on your guard.

-Sunset

“Okay,” Flash said. He was calm, almost forcibly so. “I’ve reached the floor. I’d recommend trying to jump if you want to keep from tossing your cookies.”

Twilight frowned. “Why would we do— ugh!” This was followed by the thump of a body against the floor, followed by a weak moan.

Sunset decided that it was probably wisest not to question things too terribly much and, squeezing Fluttershy’s hand for a moment, leapt forward. There was a brief moment of vertigo, as though the world were twisting and then she landed and everything was stable once more. She opened her eyes. Flash was leaned against a wall, staring at the others sympathetically. Fluttershy was sprawled on the floor. Apparently she’d not jumped when Sunset had. Twilight had curled up on the floor, whimpering and clutching at her stomach. “I hate this house,” she groaned.

Sunset took Fluttershy by the hand and helped her to her feet. She turned to do the same for Twilight, but the girl groaned and waved her away. “Oh, wow,” Fluttershy murmured. “This is nice…”

It was a pretty nice room, Sunset agreed. The bed was made reasonably neatly, though one of the corners of the quilt had been thrown roughly aside. The curtains were of a thin golden chintz material that caught the light and lit the room with a bright, friendly glow. The nightstand held a small lamp shaped like a tortoise, an alarm clock, a phone charger that had been electrical-taped in several places, and a handful of framed photos, most of which consisted of familiar faces. One or two, however, were a tad more uncanny. The principal and her sister dressed in flowing, regal regalia and looking far younger than any of the assembled had ever seen them. An older Fluttershy, roughly in her late twenties, was wearing coveralls and galoshes, while someone that closely resembled the superintendent photobombed her from the bushes. A similarly older Rarity stood on a catwalk, a large purple dog at her side. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.

“So… those are the other versions of you guys?” Sunset guesses cautiously.

Flash nodded. “Yeah. ‘parently, I’m a royal guard on the other side, which is… cool, I guess. I don’t think Sunset ever got a picture of me, though.” He winced. “Uh, the other one.”

Sunset chuckled. “Yeah, I figured.” She glanced up. “Were you… close?”

Flash waved a hand vaguely. “You could say that. We dated for a little while. We broke up, pretty messily. Then we sort of made friends again.” He picked up a little statuette, examining it minutely.

“I was kinda hoping we could try again,” he said, voice and eyes distant. “Guess it’s too late, now.”

“Guess so,” Twilight agreed, her eyes flicking over to the new Sunset.

Fluttershy glanced around and realized that she was the only one still looking around the room for… for… “Um, guys?”

She shrunk under the sudden pressure of three intense gazes being fixed on her. “What’s wrong, Fluttershy?” Twilight asked.

“Well, I guess I was just wondering, um, what we were looking for.”

“Oh, well,” Twilight said. “We’re looking for… for…” she trailed off.

Sunset stared at the purple girl. “You’re kidding. You don’t even know why we’re here?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead!” Twilight replied, defensive. “But this is the best place to go to if we’re going to figure out… Sunset,” she finished lamely.

Flash closed his eyes tightly and sat down on the bed. “Please, please tell me that we aren’t playing hooky for no reason,” he said.

“We aren’t playing hooky for no reason,” Sunset said.

“Is that true?”

“No.”

“Yes it is,” Twilight said, turning towards the bookshelf. “There’s a reason we came here! I know there is! I wouldn’t have suggested it without a reason, would I?”

“So what is it?” Sunset snapped. “What’s so special about this place? What’s so important about this other Sunset? What makes her better than me? Why did we come here, Twilight?”

“Um,” said Fluttershy. “I think we’re here to… say goodbye.”

The silence was deadening. Slowly, glacially, Sunset turned to face Fluttershy. “What.”

The yellow girl squeaked. “Twilight-had-a-crush-on-Sunset!”

“What?” Twilight yelped. “I did not!”

“Yes-you-did!”

“You did,” Flash agreed.

Sunset sucked in her lower lip. “Um, based on how you’ve been acting around me, I’m going to say that you did.”

Twilight looked stricken. “No! I don’t have a crush on Sunset or Flash! I decided I didn’t!”

“When did I come into this equation?” Flash asked, brows cinching.

“You didn’t! Neither did Sunset! There was no equation! I don’t have crushes, and I definitely didn't try to mathematically determine who I wanted to date!”

Sunset stared. “Hey, Twilight.”

The bespectacled girl looked up, wary. “Yeah?”

“You’re cute.”

Twilight went red, her glasses fogging up.

Sunset nodded. “Okay, that’s one crush established. Flash, you wanna try two for two?”

The blue-haired boy stared at Twilight for a long moment. “I think that might be a conversation for another time,” he said, crossing one leg awkwardly over the other.

Sunset smirked slightly. “Alright, fine. We can talk later. For now… I guess what we’re really all here for is closure, right?” She glanced around. “Anyone want to share a few words?”

Twilight flushed and muttered, “No, I couldn’t possibly…”

Fluttershy’s reaction was much the same. Sunset turned to Flash. “How ‘bout you, Ponyboy?”

“Hey!” Flash objected. “Just because my last two girlfriends were extradimensional horses—”

“Easy, tiger. I was referencing the Outsiders. Though, I guess you look more like a “Johnny” than a Ponyboy…”

“Oh.” Flash scratched his head, face reddening. “Right.”

“Extradimensional horses?”

“They looked human at the time, alright?”

Sunset snickered. “Yeah, sure. But your nickname is definitely Ponyboy now, you greaser.”

Flash sighed. “Fine. I’m not much good with words, but…” He pulled a candy-cherry red guitar off the wall and tossed the strap over his torso.

Sunset raised a brow. “That’s… convenient.”

“I met Sunset at guitar lessons,” Flash said with a shrug, idly strumming and tuning the instrument. “It’s kinda poetic, I guess.” He let his fingertips wash over the strings, producing a quiet chord, which turned into the start of a melody. For a long several seconds, the room was quiet and still apart from the sweet, smooth music.

And that’s when the explosion went off.

There was a long, terrible silence. “Should I finish this later?” Flash suggested, tentatively.

“Go!” Twilight yelled, already passing over the threshold of the room.

***

Trixie rushed into the library, visibly relaxing when she saw a familiar face. “Oh, Trixie’s word. Oh, Trixie’s goodness. Things are going crazy around here!”

“Yes. Yes, I know.” The voice was Sunset’s, but at the same time, it was foreign. It was smoother, richer than the tremorous defiance of earlier. It was the voice of one who knows exactly what is going on— and likes where it’s headed.

“...Sunset?” Trixie asked nervously.

The orange mare grinned through grit teeth and tight lips, more a snarl than a smile. “Trixie,” she said.

“Are you… well?”

Sunset’s smile widened. “Never better.”

“And— you’re settling in well?” Trixie asked. She knew better than to show fear— the audiences would have eaten her alive for it, and she doubted that this— this thing in Sunset’s body would be any different.

“Settling in… well, there are a few concerns I have,” Sunset said, tilting her head as though in thought. “Firstly, the decor.”

The soft, purple crystal walls of the room flared for a moment, then settled down into an angry, almost rapacious shade of orange, lurid and hungry. “Second, there’s the matter of the household staff,” Sunset continued.

Bonds of magic encircled Trixie from head to hoof. Sunset grinned, her eyes sparkling with dangerous beauty, not unlike a forest fire. Lazily, she walked around the bound unicorn. “You know, you really aren’t so bad. It really is a pity. As I was saying, I’m having a bit of difficulty settling in. There’s just one more teeny little thing.”

“What might that be?” Trixie asked warily.

Sunset sighed theatrically. “Well, as you may have noticed, I’m having a little bit of trouble making friends.”

Trixie cocked her head. “You… want Trixie to help you make friends with the townsponies?”

Sunset shook her head. “Nothing so mundane. Come.”

She looped a tendril of magic around Trixie and yanked her bodily out of the library.

***

Celestia was absolutely silent. Her fingers were steepled in front of her cold eyes, and yet she gazed, completely unobstructed, at the eight teenagers sitting before her. She let out a long, low hiss of breath. She leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table. “Right. I would like an explanation.”

Cornicle looked down at his shoes. Kevin had pulled his Stetson over his face. Ditto and Doppelgang began to whistle loudly. Pharynx turned to his younger brother. “Well? Tell her.”

Thorax shifted in his seat. “Well… She offered to pay us…”

Celestia waved this off. “I don’t want to know why you did it. I don’t particularly care why you did it. I want to know why eight of my students are missing, and where they are now!”

“O-oh,” Thorax stammered. “Um. She told us it was a magic problem again, real end-of-the-world stuff.”

Celestia sighed and pinched her brow. “Okay. Okay. I can see why you would all believe that. That doesn’t mean you aren’t all going to be in detention for a week, but I do understand where you’re coming from. Did they perhaps mention where this end-of-world scenario would be taking place? No? Did they mention what it was, or how they knew about it?” Suddenly springing to life, the principal rose to her feet and threw open the blinds. The sky was clear and blue. Birds sang overhead. The world looked completely fine.

“You’ve been played,” she said, turning back to the eight teens. “The world isn’t ending. So, please, if they told you anything else, I need to know what they said. I need…” she sighed. “My daughter is out there. I need you to tell me where she is.”

There was a long moment. “They said they had the wrong Sunset,” said Buzz after a long moment, his lilac facepaint running down his cheeks. “They said they saw her run through the mirror portal.”

And just like that, Celestia’s heart stopped. Something in her brain shifted out of the way and let the truth, the obvious truth, flow through. The papers that had told her Sunset had grown up in an orphanage in Washington hadn’t been wrong, they were about the wrong Sunset. The girl’s confusion during their conversation about Sunset’s parents hadn’t been feigned, she had been talking to the wrong Sunset. How had she not realized this already? The mental gymnastics she'd done to make sense of all this would have put gold medal Olympians to shame. Which, in Celestia's experience, could mean only one thing-- magical interference.

“Oh no,” Celestia murmured. “No, no, no, I’ve gotten it all wrong. I have to find Sunset.” She pushed her way toward the office doors. And that’s when the explosion went off.

“I’ve gotten it all wrong!”

***

Trixie was bound tightly by Sunset’s magic, unable to speak, let alone move. Whatever spell this was seemed to be keeping her in some sort of stasis, rendering her conscious without need of breathing or blinking— did she need food? water? sleep? She had a nasty feeling she would soon be finding out. She was thankful, at least, that she was still allowed to see and hear what was going on, though for the last several minutes, it had just been Sunset, running hither and thither around the storeroom, connecting various pieces of machinery and arcane devices to the mirror portal. Her mane had frizzed oddly, looking less like hair and more and more similar to an inferno. The room was illuminated by an unsettling scarlet glow, coming from an unknown source. It felt like it should have physically hurt to look at. Perhaps it did, and her nerves just hadn’t caught up yet.

She barely noticed Sunset’s ranting anymore either— she’d kept up a continual rambling chatter ever since she’d left the library, stuff about how her friends would be coming by and how much they would have to talk about and that the conjunction of universes would come and reality itself would warp before the power of friendship. Honestly, it had been a little unnerving to hear, sort of like if Twilight had gone megalomaniacal. As though in response to that very thought, Twilight herself came crashing through the door.

For the briefest of instants, Trixie’s heart leapt. Twilight could help— she’d know what to do. Then, the princess raised her head and Trixie’s heart stopped. Actually, it might have already stopped, she’d not felt a pulse for the entire time. But even if she hadn’t been in stasis, she probably would have been frozen to the spot, caught in the unnatural glare that now transfixed her. This was not Twilight. Her eyes glowed a brilliant blue. Her mane looked electrically charged. Her face was cold and drawn. The few seconds that her gaze spent on Trixie seemed to drag out for years. At long last, the thing in the princess’s body glanced away to look at Sunset. “Is it ready?” she demanded. “Can we begin the study?”

“Patience,” Sunset scolded. “Let’s not forget, I’ve taken you down and brought you back. I am the one in charge of this operation.”

Twilight-thing sighed. “Fine. I need to build a new thaumic collector anyway, the last one was stolen by this dimension’s Rarity.”

Sunset shrugged. “She and her friends will be here soon enough. You can just take it back then.”

“They’ve probably taken out my first specimen, too,” the alicorn grumbled.

Sunset let out an impatient growl. “Once we breach the borders, you can have all the specimens you want,” she said shortly. “Speaking of which…”

Trixie was yanked across the room until she was staring right into Sunset’s aqua eyes. They glared at each other for several seconds. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Sunset said, eyes softening subtly. “I could really have gotten to like you. You’re much nicer than my Trixie.” Her eyes went hard again. “Unfortunately, we needed somepony unaffected by the mirror’s magic to bridge the divide and, well, you were convenient.”

She was telling the truth. Trixie wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. On the one hoof, apparently she and Sunset were sort of friends now. On the other hoof, it sounded Sunset was apparently going to kill her— OH CELESTIA NO NO NO DON’T KILL TRIXIE, NO NO!

Her silent screaming did absolutely nothing as the mirror portal began to spark and shimmer, glowing unnaturally as she drew nearer and nearer to it. It was dazzlingly bright— she would have shut her eyes, if she could. Her horn was touching the surface now, through the surface now, and the rest of her was following. The whole thing felt rather like being drunk. Through a straw. Bits of Trixie flickered and fluctuated, now hooves and horn, now hands and hair. Then her head passed through the mirror, and Trixie knew no more.

***

The Doctor peered around a corner. “I do believe— we’ve lost her,” he wheezed.

“Thank heavens,” Rarity sighed, leaning against a wall. “I simply don’t know what could have come over her.”

“What’s come over who?”

The Doctor and Rarity cried out in alarm, spinning around only to see Fluttershy, who was even more shocked than they were. “Oh my! Are you alright?”

“I— yes, thank you, darling,” Rarity said, clutching a hoof over her chest. Spike whined and licked her face gently. “Where’s Discord gotten to?”

“Boo!” a voice whispered in her ear.

Rarity didn’t even flinch. “Ah, there you are,” she said, turning around.

The chaos spirit pouted. “What, so now I’m not even a scary as my dear Flutterbuddy? You wound me, Rarity, really you do. So! We got chased by a trio of angry a cappella singers, but we shoved them in a closet. What’s new with you?”

Rarity took a deep breath. “I believe Twilight has been affected by our mysterious new chaos god,” she said. “She tried to trap us in this device.”

“Well, it’s about time,” Discord chuckled idly, levitating the compact up to eye level and examining it closely. “I always thought she was a little too tightly wound to avoid snapping like a twig sooner or later.”

“Discord, that’s not very nice,” Fluttershy scolded.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Rarity noted. “Do the words ‘Smarty Pants’ ring a bell? Though I must say, even by that standard, this is beyond the pale”

“I’ll say,” Discord agreed, studying the compact more closely. “This looks like it was designed to capture living beings— it’s one of those ‘bigger on the inside’ things that folks make such a fuss about.”

The Doctor snorted. “I seem to recall that you yourself had something of an awed response to my ship when you first saw it, hm?”

Fluttershy hovered over Discord’s shoulder. “Is— is there anypony in there?”

A long silence followed that remark. “Twilight was trying to capture us…” Rarity said slowly. “Something about data points. I don’t believe anypony else was mentioned.”

“Well, it won’t hurt to check,” Fluttershy reasoned.

Discord pulled out a jeweler’s loupe seemingly from nowhere and peered at the catch. “Hm.” They tapped at it with one hoof. “I wish I had sleeves,” they said idly. “I’d be rolling them up about now. Aaanyway, stand back! I’m not a mechanic but I once saw one on TV.”

“Tea— what?” Rarity murmured, eyebrows furrowing.

Fluttershy shrugged. “I don’t know either. They talk about it a lot, though. Apparently, it shows you reality and operas about soap.”

Discord gently poked the sides of the device. Nothing happened. They nodded, and suddenly smashed it against the ground. “NO!” the Doctor shrieked, lunging forward only to be caught in the face with what felt like a metric ton of whipped cream.

Where the compact had been, a pink pony now stood, looking mildly stunned and extremely exhilarated. “Wowee! Can we do that again?”

“How— what— you— you hooligan! Have you any idea what that could have done?” the Doctor exploded, gesticulating wildly with his walking stick. “Come to that, what did you do, hm? By rights, breaking that should have quite destroyed the universe!”

Discord looked like the cat that had just won an all-you-can-eat canary buffet. “Why, my dear Doctor, I’m surprised you didn’t think of it yourself; I reversed the polarity of the neutron flow, thus making the device much smaller on the inside and causing it to eject objects rather than absorb them.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! Neutrons aren’t even polarized, and even if they were—” An alabaster hoof quickly forced itself into his mouth.

“Be glad it works, darling,” Rarity hissed. “If too many questions are asked, the universe at large gets, shall we say, suspicious, and comes down like a ton of bricks on whatever is going on.”

“What is going on?” Pinkie asked, glancing at the walls around her. “And when did Twilight redecorate?”

As one, they all looked to see what Pinkie meant. “Oh, dear!” Fluttershy gasped. “I don’t like that…”

The castle itself seemed to burn with its own inner fire from the lowest dungeon rooms to the highest spires, lit as tragically and furiously as a dying star.

***

Trixie blinked awake. Was she awake? It was hard to say. Her eyes felt glazed and her tongue felt like thick cloth, dry and unresponsive. She noticed, vaguely, that the orange stasis spell had disappeared. Unfortunately, she found that she was still hardly able to move at all. With great effort, she rolled her eyes down to see in front of her. Her hooves were distorted, having grown bumps and tendrils which pulsated and writhed in and out, unsure of how they were meant to be. Her innards seemed to be jostling for superiority. Her eyes were different sizes and positions. Worst of all, she thought distantly, her hat had fallen off. She could feel herself slipping back into unconsciousness, the strain on her body proving too much for her mind. Just before she lost all consciousness, however, a loud explosion, like the fracture of glass amplified a thousandfold, echoed behind/in front of/beside her— and then everything went black.

***

The van skidded around a corner, Dash’s knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. The girls clung to seats and straps and one another as their driver took a too-tight corner at nearly fifty miles an hour. Other cars were a non-issue. Most had pulled off to the side of the road after the earth-shattering kaboom. The school was only a couple blocks away, now. The world looked oddly flat and warped, like a canvas left too long in the sun. Fluttershy stared up at the sky. Was it her imagination, or were faint white fracture lines fading into existence overhead? She whimpered and stared firmly down at the floor.

Flash skidded into the parking lot, burning rubber behind him. “Right. Everybody out!” he shouted, throwing open the driver’s door.

Rarity clambered out of her seat and froze, breathless. “My word,” she murmured, with the tone of someone who has never cussed in her life and is very determined not to start now.

A ray of brilliant white light shone up to the sky from the Wondercolts statue, a corona of a thousand colors overhead. The world looked thin, like cloth stretched far too far. And lying prone halfway through the portal was a figure, pale blue and hideously malformed, shifting between one thing and another.

***

Sunset and Midnight Sparkle watched in fascination for several minutes as Trixie’s back legs morphed between human feet and pony hooves. A twinge of guilt passed over Sunset, but it was quickly suppressed.

Inside Midnight’s head, she could feel her host screaming, lashing out against the walls of the mental construct that held her. She shook her head to quell the revolt within. “Soon,” Midnight said, grinning. Soon, she meant to say, she would have all the knowledge in the universe— an eternity to study the dimensional portal from both sides of the divide.

“Not long now,” Sunset agreed. Not long, she attempted to imply, before she could reunite with her friends once more.

The mirror had begun to subtly shift, thin white lines indicating the strain that it was undergoing. Midnight turned to Sunset thoughtfully. “What do you suppose will happen to her when it cracks?”

Sunset paused. That hadn’t been part of the plan. She found thinking about it oddly distressing. “Don’t,” a voice in her head whispered. “Stop it! This isn’t you!”

Sunset blinked firmly once or twice. Wasn’t her? Preposterous. She just wanted to see her friends again, and nothing and nopony would stand in her way. She glanced back at Trixie. She saw the mare refusing to tolerate her tantrums, introducing her to new friends, helping her reconnect with the friends she’d left behind…

No! Sunset felt unstable, like she’d taken one step too many on a staircase. Her head was pounding— or— or— was that the door?

She turned around as a party of ponies crashed through the entrance. “Sunset Shimmer!” Rarity cried, eyes sparking with anger. “Stop this at once!”

“No,” Sunset said. “No, I can’t. You aren’t even the real Rarity.” Drunkenly, she raised a hoof to point at the albicant unicorn. “You’re a cheap knockoff brand!”

The unicorn gasped and recoiled in horror.

The Doctor stepped forward. "Miss Shimmer. I suspected something like this," he said. He raised a brow. "Do you recognize me now, madam?"

"Doctor Turner," Sunset said with a nod. "I see that you've at least had the decency to return to your proper form."

"Decency, madam? There is nothing decent about what you are doing here." The Doctor raised a hoof to grasp his lapel, then realized he wasn't wearing his suit jacket and fumbled awkwardly.

"Um," Fluttershy said. "What exactly are you doing?"

The Doctor nodded, still holding a hoof to his chest. "A good question, my dear! Yes indeed. What are you doing, hm? And why are you doing it? Why create all this-- this madness?"

Sunset flinched back at that last word, but then drew herself to her full height. "What I do, Doctor, I do in the name of friendship. I will not harm those dear to me, not on either side of the mirror. I will bring together both universes, layering one atop the other." She smiled. "It's truly the best of both worlds."

The Doctor dropped his hoof back to the floor with a heavy thump. "What you do, you young fool, risks the lives of everyone in two universes! 'Layer them atop one another'-- I've never heard such tripe! Even if you could perform such a feat, they would corrupt one another almost instantaneously. Twilight Sparkle told me earlier about your dealings with magical waste thrown through the mirror. Ponyville has been thrown on its ear by the introduction of human artifacts and concepts spilling through to Equestria! How do you think humans will deal with dragons and timberwolves, or ponies with tanks and planes?"

As the Doctor spoke on, Sunset's face twisted into a scowl. "I will protect them," she said. "I will protect my friends from any kind of harm, and right now, that includes you. Mindight, keep them at bay."

Midnight glowered and strode forwards. “My compact. Give it to me, and I will let you live. Otherwise… well, I do need subjects for dissection, as well.”

“Oh, did you want it back?” Discord asked mildly. “Sorry, it broke. Butterhooves me!” they chuckled.

Midnight’s jaw dropped. “You— you— you what?” she asked, outraged. “That was the most advanced technology this world has ever seen, and you BROKE IT?”

The Doctor snorted. “Advanced, my child? I could’ve built that when I was eight.”

Midnight ignored him, striding instead at Discord. The unicorn’s grin turned nervous. “Ah, you wouldn’t hit a pony with glasses, would you?” they asked, summoning a pair of spectacles to rest on their nose.

Midnight reared back, her horn glowing bright blue. Discord ran under her legs, straight at the portal. “No!” Sunset cried. “You can’t take her out of there! You'll ruin everything!”

Fluttershy frowned, confused. “Take who out of where?” she wondered aloud. There was nothing there but a flat mirror.

The Prodigal Daughter is Really Hot

Trixie blinked awake to find herself surrounded by what appeared to be colorful monkeys. “Get your paws off Trixie, apes,” she growled.

One, who had hair striated in bright rainbow colors, snorted. “Same old Trixie alright,” she sighed.

Trixie frowned. “Rainbow Dash? Why are you an ape?” She glanced around, then looked down at herself. “Oh. Oh, this is the other side of the mirror, is it not?”

Rarity smirked. “Told you, darlings! She is the pony one!”

Applejack slapped a very nauseous-looking male with blue hair on the back. “Try not ta fall in love with this one too, alrigh’?”

The male grimaced. “I do not have a weird pony fetish!”

“Pfft, that’s what they all say,” Pinkie said, rolling her eyes.

Trixie nodded slowly. “Trixie is not sure what is going on. She is only keeping her cool because she does not know if she first wants to vomit, freak out over the changes to her body, or go insane because she is surrounded by ape versions of her friends,” she noted.

“Understandable,” Twilight nodded. “I don’t know what was happening, but it looked… well. Kinda Lovecraftian, honestly.”

“Yeah, like you got put together by someone who loves crafts but is really bad at them,” Dash agreed.

“That’s not— nevermind. Can you stand?”

With some assistance from Applejack and Pinkie, Trixie struggled to her feet. “Whoa. This is… surreal,” she said, looking down at herself. She wore a wisteria jacket covered with a pattern of stars and moons. Under that, she wore a white shirt and blue jeans. But something was missing. “Hat,” she said, turning around, scanning the pavement. “Where is Trixie’s haWAH!”

She leapt back. “Is that human Sunset? Is she dead? What kind of Tartarus dimension—”

Fluttershy shrugged. “She, um, kind of fainted,” she admitted. “It was kind of terrifying watching you stuck in there. Actually, I may need to go see Nurse Redheart for some smelling salts.”

“What happened to y’all, anyway?” Applejack asked.

Trixie shuddered. “Trixie does not want to go there. Sunset has turned megalomaniacal, and somehow she got Twilight on her side and… well, Trixie isn’t sure what happened. But it was not good.”

Flash’s eyes went wide. “Megalomaniacal?”

“Totally off her rocker.”

“I thought she was over that,” Dash groaned. “Are we going to have to whammy her with friendship powers again?”

Trixie looked around thoughtfully. Friendship whammy? Hm... “Actually,” she began slowly. “Trixie may have the beginnings of a plan…”

***

Midnight Sparkle had rounded on the others now. “YOU WILL NOT STAND IN THE WAY OF SCIENCE!” she bellowed, charging up her horn once more.

The ponies dodged frantically out of the way as beams of bright blue light shook the building. Meanwhile, Discord dodged away from Sunset’s attacks as she herded them away from the mirror. “Shake-a-shake!” Pinkie squealed, narrowly dodging a falling shelving unit.

Midnight glared. “PINKIE SENSE IS UNSCIENTIFIC!” she roared, attempting to blast the pink pony.

Pinkie leapt out of the way once more, her mind hurtling along like a little red wagon down a cliff. Her eyes flickered from Twilight to Discord, still frantically dodging blasts of energy, still wearing those silly glasses they’d conjured. Glasses. Pinkie’s eyes widened. “Her glasses!” she cried. “That’s what’s making Twilight such a meany-pants! Get her glasses off!”

This, of course, only served to put Midnight on her guard. She watched warily for anything that might get to her face. “You won’t get rid of me,” she growled. “I built myself from your ‘magic’.”

While she was talking, however, Spike had trotted up behind the mare and, with a silent prayer that Twilight would forgive him, took a big bite out of the fleshy part of her leg. The corrupted alicorn reared back in surprise and pain, just the opening Fluttershy needed. With a faint battle cry (or possibly a squeal of utter terror), she dove right at the mare’s face, knocking the strange mask off her face. There was a brief scream of rage and a sound not totally unlike the air being let out of a balloon, except backwards.

Twilight blinked awake. “Right. Back to not being able to see. Great,” she sighed. “Fluttershy?”

“Yes, Twilight?”

“Thank you. I need your help a little bit longer, now. I need you to be my eyes to knock out Sunset. Also, I need you to not sit on my wing, it’s beginning to hurt.”

“Oh! Yes, sorry. Um, angle up just a few degrees… No, a little less… Yes, now just a tad left… Oh! No, she moved… No, Spike, don’t lick her face now, we’re aiming...”

While Fluttershy tried to aim her friend’s head, the others were fighting a losing battle. Discord had removed their glasses and was pouring a brandy into them for medicinal purposes. Rarity was trying to control every loose piece of kitsch that Twilight kept in this room, aiming to knock Sunset out, but her attempts were thwarted by the angry unicorn’s beams of fire. Pinkie, meanwhile, was doing her best to anticipate and block every shot Sunset took, but even she could only keep up for so long. It was only a matter of time before a bolt hit true. Spike was the only one not doing anything, as he was distracted by a strange white glow emanating from just behind the combatants. The mirror portal, though slightly strained in spots, was still functional.

***

Rarity looked at the statue, dubious. “You’re quite sure about this, darling?”

Trixie considered this. “Trixie does not think you want to know the answer to that question.”

Fluttershy squeaked, and the others looked at the portal with varying degrees of concern. Trixie sighed. “Look, either we try to talk Sunset—”

“Other Sunset!” the human Sunset put in.

The girls all stared at her. “Not t’ put ya down or nothin’, sugarcube, but you're still kinda th’ Other Sunset t’ us.”

The purple girl rested a hand on the other’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m still Science Twilight,” she said kindly.

“Regardless! Either we try to talk her down, or we stand aside and allow her to conquer both of our worlds. Trixie believes the choice is clear.”

Twilight gazed at the portal, uncertain. Then, gritting her teeth, she nodded. “Right,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

Suddenly, Pinkie gasped and pulled Twilight back from the portal. “Wait! What if, while we’re in there, all our genetic material gets all mixed up, and we come out on the other side with fly heads?”

Fluttershy looked to be considering this, but the others all paused. “Is that… possible?” Rarity wondered.

Trixie shrugged. “Twilight and Spike went through simultaneously without issue, so Trixie doubts it will be a problem. If it makes you feel better, though, we can do this single file. Just stay close and listen for the cue. Now, if you will excuse Trixie, she has a show to do.” The blue magician knelt and dove back through the portal.

***

A blue unicorn somersaulted out of the magic mirror. This was not, surprisingly, the focus of attention. Twilight had taken to firing blindly, though ostensibly guided by Fluttershy. The yellow pegasus was, in reality, hanging onto the alicorn’s neck for dear life, on the basis that Twilight was unlikely to accidentally hit her own back. Discord had transfigured themself into a cannon, ably manned by Pinkie Pie and the Doctor. It appeared to be shooting strawberry milkshakes, complete with glass and straws. A few glancing blows had stuck Sunset, and several cherries were now caught in her mane. Rarity, meanwhile, had retreated behind the shelves with Spike, and was throwing anything and everything she could at the raging inferno given body in the form of Sunset Shimmer. Trixie took in all of this slowly. She nodded thoughtfully. She had worked tougher crowds.

Sunset was preparing to shoot another burst of flame at Discord, when suddenly, the lights went out. Sunset whirled, expecting a trick. As it turned out, she wasn’t far off. A spotlight (from some unknown source) illuminated a certain blue showmare standing in front of the mirror portal. “Good evening, fillies and gentlecolts! Discord,” she added, nodding to the cannon.

“What is this? How did you escape?”

“Well,” Trixie said, stretching out the word. “In order— this is Trixie’s opening act, and she got here with just a little help from her friends. Or, well. Somepony’s friends.”

Sunset snorted. “Well,” she retorted, “They’ll not be able to get you out again.” She reached to grab Trixie in her magic, but the performer held up a hoof.

“Hold on,” she said. “As Trixie said. She was just the warm-up act.”

Sunset paused, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Trixie said, posing dramatically in front of the mirror, hooves outstretched. “Hey jingo! Amicus necessitudines! Break the bond that divides us!”

“Fluttershy?” Twilight whispered. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Fluttershy whispered. “But Trixie’s doing some kind of modern dance while yelling at Sunset in tongues.”

Twilight absorbed this. “Let’s see where this goes. Or, well, you see, tell me what’s happening. And try to give me a good shot at Sunset, if you can.”

“Enough of this foolishness!” Sunset cried, firing a blast which Trixie dodged with ease.

“Trixie agrees,” the showmare nodded. “But first, a question— friendship is magic, correct?”

“Of course,” Sunset agreed. “That’s why I need to get MY friends back.”

“Would you consider the converse to be true?”

The flaming unicorn hesitated. “What?”

Trixie smirked. “Abracadabra,” she intoned, gesturing toward the suddenly glowing mirror.

As Sunset and the others present watched in amazement, a bespectacled purple unicorn stepped out. “Oh,” said Twilight, looking around. “Wow. I mean… wow. This is a nice place. Kinda trashed, but nice!”

Sunset floated down to the floor. “Twi...light?”

Twilight frowned. “Fluttershy? Is she talking to me?”

The befuddled pegasus looked at the newcomer, then back at her friend.“Yes and no,” she hedged.

“Hi, Sunset,” the bespectacled unicorn said. “How are you settling in?”

Sunset didn’t quite seem to know how to respond to that. “I— I thought I’d never see you again,” she said quietly.

Twilight smiled. “C’mon. Do you really think we’d let a little thing like ‘being in a different universe’ stop us from seeing you?”

Sunset let out a strangled noise, half sob and half laugh. “Guess not,” she agreed, going to embrace her friend.

“Hey! Don’t the rest of us get a hug?” a scratchy voice called. Sunset looked up. Flash, Dash, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Applejack all stood by the mirror portal, and Rarity was just crossing through.

“Girls!” Sunset cried in delight, running to greet them.

The new arrivals were nearly knocked to the ground by Sunset’s effusive greeting, but nevertheless, they joyfully responded in kind. “Well, darling? Are you fitting in well here?”

Sunset’s hug loosened, and she leaned away. “What… what do you mean by that?”

“Hey, Sunny. It’s cool, we get it— you didn’t wanna leave,” Dash said, leaning forward. “I mean, who’d want to be be deprived of all this awesome?” She gestured to herself.

“I— I thought you were coming to take me back,” Sunset whispered quietly.

The deep sense of tension which had been dispelled by the new arrivals returned tenfold. “Uh, I don’t think that’s really possible” Flash said awkwardly.

“Why not?” Sunset asked, her mane beginning to flicker like flame once more.

“I think,” said a familiar voice from the mirror portal, “that would be because of me.”

A second Sunset now stood just in front of the magic mirror, her face drawn with worry and confusion. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I really am.”

“Oh, dear,” Fluttershy said from over by Twilight. “This is going to get confusing, isn’t it?”

“Oh,” said Sunset, mane flickering angrily and eyes sparkling with the light of burning bridges. “My REPLACEMENT. I see…”

She stalked toward her doppelganger. “You. You stole my friends from me,” she snarled. “You took away everything. You stole my life!” Her horn blazed like an oxyacetylene torch. “I intend to return the favor.”

The new Sunset closed her eyes in anticipation of a blast that didn’t come. After a few moments, she opened one eye slightly. Standing in front of her was Twilight, shaking like a leaf. “I- if you w-w-want her,” she said, “You, you’ll have t-t-t-to go through me fuh, fuh, first.”

“And me,” Flash agreed, landing beside the lavender unicorn.

“Same,” Dash agreed, hovering awkwardly in the air.

“Me, too,” Applejack added, trotting over.

“Make that a party of five!” Pinkie chirped from where she suddenly had always been standing— directly behind Sunset. The unicorn jumped and opened her mouth to ask something, but Pinkie merely winked.

“Six,” Rarity corrected.

“Oh, um… seh, seven,” Fluttershy whispered. “How do I get into these situations?” she added in an even quieter murmur.

The human Sunset was flabbergasted, and not just because of Pinkie Pie. “Wh-- what? Why?”

“I’d rather like to know that, too,” her counterpart snarled, glaring fire at the small group that opposed her.

Twilight stepped forward. “Sunset. You are our friend. You know that, right?”

“Of course!” the flaming unicorn snorted. “That’s the whole point of this plot.”

Discord snickered. “She said ‘plot’,” they whispered to Pinkie and the Doctor.

“Do shut up, my good chimera, hm?” the Doctor muttered back.

Twilight stared into Sunset’s eyes, the reflection of flame twinkling in her glasses. “You saved me from becoming Midnight Sparkle before. Just think of this as me returning the favor.”

Sunset reared back. “What? No! What are you talking about? I don’t want to conquer the world, I just want my friends back!”

“Well…” Pinkie said, “much as I appreciate the thought, you are kinda trying to destroy both worlds, soooo… maybe you’ve gone a little itsy-bitsy bit evil?”

“Darling,” Rarity continued, “As Twilight said, you have been and always will be our friend. That will not change, regardless of which side of the mirror you live.”

“Yeah, and friends don’t let friends turn into power-hungry overlords,” Dash added.

“Listen, sugarcube,” Applejack said. “We ain’t sayin’ goodbye. Th’ portal’s still open, y’all can come visit us whenever ya like.”

“Or, um, maybe we can visit you,” Fluttershy supplied. “I like it here.”

“But,” Twilight continued, “you can’t just hang onto us for the rest of your life. This was your home, once. You need to make friends here. Maybe they aren’t exactly the same as us. That doesn’t mean you can’t make friends with them, though.”

"But I don't want to!" Sunset said, her mane flickering erratically. "You girls-- you're my family. I can't leave, not again. Not like this!"

Flash looked up at her sadly. "You have family here, too, right? And they miss you, as much as you already miss us. As much as we'll miss you, too. No one is saying we can never see each other again! You just--" he stopped, lost for the right words.

The other Sunset took a step forward. "I'm not taking your place, Sunset. I never thought things would turn out this way, and I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry I did, and I hope... I hope..." she took a step back. "Well, a good first step would be, I hope you don't incinerate me on the spot, but beyond that, I hope that we can both make things right. With one another, and everyone else."

Sunset looked torn. “I— but I—”

Trixie trotted out in front of the group. “Sunset. Listen to Trixie. Things change. Things always change, and sometimes that means that things fall apart. But out of those pieces, think of all the new change that can come. Sometimes, it feels like nothing will ever be the same again, and that can be true. But what the new normal is— that is up to you.”

“I— I— I— noooOOOO!” Sunset shrieked as the flames in her mane grew brighter and brighter, her eyes glowing like supernovae and her entire body lighting with an inner fire.

“Uh-oh,” Discord muttered. “I think that’s my cue…” They quickly turned into a crow and flew off into the shadows before Pinkie or the Doctor could stop them. Meanwhile, Sunset was now bright enough to be mistaken for a star. Before anypony could do anything, she disintegrated into ashes and dust, disappearing along with all the chaos she had wrought on the world.

The Prodigal Daughter is Home

Sunset awoke to the faint smell of ozone and the sound of quiet radio static. She blinked once or twice and sat up. A tall, grey pony with deep, green eyes like the mist in a forest and a messy, mostly-black mane glanced up from where he sat at a desk. “Oh. Awake at last. Very good, I was getting worried. Do you, by chance, know a nine-letter word for ‘cannot be rubbed out’?”

Sunset stared. “Where am I?”

The stallion sucked the end of his quill thoughtfully. “W-h-e- no, that’s only eight letters. And it— oh. Oooh.” He nodded. “Right. At least you didn’t start off asking if you were dead. That’s what they usually do when they wake up.”

Sunset waited for him to elaborate. After several long minutes of having him beam idly at her, she prompted, “Am I dead?”

His jaw popped open. “Oh! Dear me, no,” he said, violently shaking his head and making the jagged blue and silver stripes in his mane dance. No, not dead. Well. For a given value of dead, anyway. You’re just…” he made a vague sort of gesture with his hooves. “Dreaming. Actually, that’s not right either, but— indelible.”

“Huh?”

“Nine letter word for cannot be rubbed out. Indelible.” He jotted that down with a nod. “I much prefer Sudoku, don’t you?”

Sunset wasn’t quite sure how to reply. This conversation was rather like talking to Pinkie Pie. “So where am I?”

The stallion blinked owlishly, his vague green eyes widening. “Have I not said that yet? No. No, I suppose I haven’t. Hm. Well, this is sort of… a hospital. For the mind. Except, it’s also in your mind. And also in the whole unified subconscious of everyone, which isn’t actually a real thing.” He considered this. “It’s not something that lends itself well to analogies,” he admitted. “Look. You’ve just had a very bad thing trying to take over your mind. This is where you recover from that. In all honesty, you’ve gotten over it quite quickly, for,” he chuckled, “fairly obvious reasons.”

“Fairly obvious.” Sunset repeated flatly. “Yes. Obvious as the wings on my back.”

For some reason, the stallion seemed to find this enormously funny. “Yes,” he said through his chuckles. “Exactly. Good to see your sense of humor has bounced back quickly. Now, I daresay you’re fit to leave whenever you’re ready, Miss Shimmer. Your door is right there,” he nodded to a bright orange archway that Sunset could swear hadn’t been there a moment before. It clashed horribly with the overall grey palette of the room, which was a rather messy cross between a hospital room, a mad scientist’s laboratory, and a library.

Slowly, she eased herself up from the bed. Her legs still felt vaguely weak, but she wobbled over to the indicated doorway. As she was about to leave, she paused. “What’s your name, then? You know mine, but I don’t know yours.”

The stallion blinked. “I’m not sure I have one,” he admitted. “What about… Brain Storm? Does that suit me, do you think?”

Sunset frowned. The genial, absent-minded unicorn seemed a far cry from that name. “How about… Mental Note?”

He shook his head. “I like the start,” he said thoughtfully. “The ‘Ment’ part. I’ll work on it, tell you another time.”

Sunset nodded. “...Right. See you later, Mentie,” She trotted out the door.

The stallion waved. “Goodbye, Sunset,” he called after her. “And good luck!” The door swung shut with a click before she could reply.

The grey pony sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “Ment— Ment— Sediment— Fundament— Mental— Mentie— Hm. What do you think?” he asked the other pony in the room.

The beefy grey unicorn made no reply. The grey pony sighed, trotting over. “Still asleep, then? That’s over a thousand years, now. Really, I’d like to know more about you, my good chap.” He looked down at the worn, but calm, face. “Someday, you’ll wake up, I know you will.”

He sat down next to the patient, brow furrowed in thought. “Mentie. I rather like that, but it’s not quite… Mentiad, perhaps?” He brightened. “Yes. Mentiad! I like that! What do you think— oh, yes. Right.” Mentiad sighed and, with a gentle wingtip, brushed a stray lock of hair away from the face of the patient. “Sweet dreams, Sombra,” the alicorn of mind said as he trotted back to his crosswords.

***

Sunset, meanwhile, found herself in a large hallway covered in strange, swirling murals. She trotted along slowly, examining the artwork. It was odd— almost as though it were moving wherever wasn’t looking. “You like?” a scratchy voice asked from behind her.

She spun around, only to be met with empty space. “Over here!” the voice came again.

She looked around once more but again, there was nothing there. Looking forwards once more, she found herself staring into a pair of mismatched red and yellow eyes. “Boo.”

Sunset screamed and leapt backwards. The creature bent double laughing at her reaction. “Oh! Oh, you should’ve seen your face! Ahahaha! Oh, I’ve still got it…”

Sunset’s mouth dropped open. She recognized this figure. “Discord,” she whispered fearfully, backing away from the chimera of chaos as the hallway around her evaporated like smoke, revealing hot pink skies and land that rippled and rolled like the ocean.

They noticed, and rolled their eyes. “Oh, come now, Sunbutt— no, that’s already taken. Hm. Come on, Fireflanks, you’ve nothing to fear from me. Frankly, I’m rather impressed. One day, and you nearly destroy not one, but two entire universes! That actually beats the old record, so well done for getting that out of your system early.”

“I— I didn’t mean—”

Discord waved a claw dismissively. “Of course not. And neither did Nightmare Moon, nor Sombra, and neither did Barley Corn, and neither did Crystal Structure. They all got forgiven in the end.” They hesitated. “Well. Those of them that weren’t killed by their own evil scheme.”

“...Who?”

“Who is for owls, my dear Shimmer,” the chimera said laconically. “What say we get down to the crux of the matter, hm? You’ve just nearly destroyed not one, but two universes with a half-flanked plan, all to get back to your friends, something no being has ever done before. Not even Starswirl the Bearded. Actually, he might have specifically forbidden it. That means… hold on.” They pulled out a large packet of paper with the word SCRIPT written in large letters on the front and flipped through. “Hm. Watched you from… not true, also a little creepy… I don’t like to sing, so that’s a no… Y’know what? Poof. You’re a draconequus now. Congrats, I’ll get Pinkie to throw you a party or something.”

Sunset stared. “I’m a draconequus,” she said flatly. “Sure. Good one, ha ha.”

Discord sniffed and turned up their nose. “Look in a mirror lately? Fine. Don’t believe me. You’ll see for yourself when you accidentally chaos-mage up a mysterious glowing cloud that rains jam and hedgehogs down onto an unsuspecting populace.” They paused for a moment, then pulled out a notebook. “Jam… and… hedgehogs…” they muttered, scrawling on one page. “Anyway, yes. You are now a fully fledged chaos god-slash-goddess-slash-nonbinary deity (delete whichever is inappropriate) of… Friendship? Magic? Books? Whatever Twilight’s domain is, you’re the chaotic version. Good luck with that.”

Before Sunset could reply, Discord yanked down on a chain that hadn’t been there a moment ago, and the world spun away into nothingness.

***

The ringing echoes of the explosion filled the room. All else was silence. Twilight let out a strangled wail, stumbling away from the mirror and into the scorched section of the floor. Flash collapsed onto his knees. Trixie didn’t move at all-- it was as though she’d been frozen to the spot. Her chest rose and fell, but that was about the only sign she was still alive. Human Pinkie’s mane had gone flat, and her Equestrian counterpart was collapsing like a bad souffle. Both Rarities turned away, one weeping into Applejack’s mane, the other in Spike’s arms. The dragon himself was openly bawling.

Princess Twilight was blinking her eyes, utterly confused. “What happened? Did we win?”

Fluttershy said nothing. Her human counterpart stared at the ground blankly. Only Rainbow, it seemed, had anything to say. “We killed her,” she said, her face blank and her voice numb with incomprehension.

There was a long silence. Then, “We killed her,” Dash said again, her voice now filled with horror. “She was our friend.”

“Trixie, are you okay?” the Doctor asked, resting a hoof on her withers.

The touch seemed to wake her from the spell. She fell to the ground, letting out a keening wail. “She’s dead!”

The silence fell again. The Doctor took a deep breath and glanced around the room. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Trixie is sorry. She did this. She brought the humans through.”

“And you saved the world,” Princess Twilight said quietly. “Two worlds, really.”

“You did the right thing, Trixie,” the Doctor said. “You did everything right. Sunset was gone the moment she let that-- thing take over her mind.”

“She wasn’t! She apologized to Trixie for putting her in the mirror! She was still Sunset, and now she’s dead!”

The Doctor took another deep breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be a tricky one. “Trixie…” he said gently. “You tried to save her. Remember that. It’s a small comfort, I know. But sometimes, we can’t save everyone.”

Princess Twilight frowned at the floor. “Y’know,” she muttered, “these scorch marks look kind of familiar…”

The Doctor frowned. “Twilight, not the time.”

Rarity sniffed and glanced back, pulling away from Spike for a moment. “You know, now you come to mention it…” she agreed.

The Doctor glared at them for a moment, but turned back to Trixie. “The important thing is that we all try to save who we can, for as long as we--”

Whatever he was about to suggest was cut off by the sound of a flushing toilet from directly overhead. Everypony looked up as a pipe extended out of the ceiling and spat out a fireball right in the center of the room. There was a moment of silence. Then, with a groan, the fire sat up and stretched. “Word of advice,” Sunset grumbled. “Never let Discord give you a ride home.”

She glanced around, seeing the astonished, stricken faces. “What? Is there something in my hair?”

She said no more, for at that precise moment, she was knocked to the floor in a tacklehug by a certain blue magician. “YOU’RE ALIVE!” Trixie cried joyfully. Then, blinking, she pulled back. “You also appear to be on fire, slightly.”

Sunset stood up, and everypony gasped. Her mane and tail had apparently turned to flame, and she now sported a pair of phoenix-like wings. Discord grinned, having appeared soundlessly behind Fluttershy. “All hail the newest goddess of chaos.”

Fluttershy squeaked in surprise and spun around. Discord merely laughed until they felt a tug on his tail. “Wrong one,” Fluttershy whispered from directly behind them.

Discord glanced around. “Well. This is going to get confusing,” they grumbled. “Hold on.” They poked the human Fluttershy's upper lip, and she gasped in shock as a handlebar moustache sprouted from her face. “There we go,” the draconequus grinned. “Now, as for the rest…”

As Discord chased the alternate Rarity around the room, both Twilights approached Sunset. “Are you alright?” the alicorn asked gently.

Sunset stared flatly at her. “I just had my brain hijacked, turned evil again, and tried to conquer two worlds in the name of friendship. Yeah, I’m great.”

The bespectacled unicorn giggled. “Well, at least you’re feeling well enough for sarcasm.”

Despite herself, Sunset cracked a faint grin. “Yeah, I guess that’s something, anyway.” The grin faded. “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry for everything I did. I just… I don’t know.”

The alicorn smiled. “That’s okay. You didn’t mean any of it.”

“No, that’s the thing,” Sunset groaned. “I did. All of it. It was like all my worst fears and thoughts just got shoved to the front of my brain, and I guess I panicked.”

The Twilights looked at one another. “Interesting,” said the unicorn slowly.

“Very interesting,” the alicorn agreed. “Sunset, do you think you could help us with a few little experiments?”

Sunset’s pupils dilated. “I, uh, I should probably… go. Over there. To… talk to somepony.”

As Sunset trotted off, she bumped into another pony. “Oh, jeez, sorry,” she winced, helping the other back to their hooves only to find herself looking into her own eyes. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi,” the other Sunset replied awkwardly.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about what I said there. We cool?”

“Um. Yeah, I think so. Hey, I can try to be more like you, I—”

“No,” Sunset replied shaking her head. “No, no, no. That’s what got me into the whole ‘destroy the world to get my way’ mindset in the first place. You just… be you. That’s all you need to be.”

The unicorn smiled. “Thanks, Sunset.”

“Anytime, Sunset.”

Suddenly, a door swung open at the far side of the room. The figure that stepped through was tall and fair. She was also breathing heavily, her coat and mane matted and her eyes bulging. Princess Celestia stumbled into the room. “Right,” she said, looking around dazedly. “Had to fight a bunch of vines and some tone-deaf ghosts. What did I miss?”

Dash leaned over to Rarity. “Is that Principal Celestia?”

“PrinCESS Celestia, yes,” the other hissed back. “Now, hush.”

Sunset stared at the alicorn like a mouse would look at a hungry owl. “Uh. Hi, mom.”

The princess of the Sun stared back for a long moment. Then, with a cry, she leapt forward to pick Sunset up in a tight embrace, tears of joy slipping down her cheeks.

The unicorn Twilight coughed and adjusted her glasses. “I think this might be something of a personal moment. Perhaps it would be best for us to go…”

“Good idea,” her alicorn counterpart agreed. “It’s getting a little hard to tell who’s from which side of the mirror, and it’ll only get worse when the others arrive.”

The other nodded. “Nice to finally meet you in person— er, in pony,” she grinned.

“You too. And thanks for your help today.”

The two nodded at each other, smiling. “Come on,” the bespectacled unicorn called. “Time to go home, girls.”

The two Pinkies looked at each other, exchanging mischievous grins. “But how do” “You know which” “One of us” “Is which?”

Everypony else stared, horrorstruck. Celestia squeezed Sunset a little closer to her chest. “There’s two of them,” Dash whispered.

“Ah can see that.”

“Is this… the end times?”

“Ah thought we jes’ stopped that.”

“Shhh, no, there is no space for rationality in the new pink world order…”

Twilight sighed. “Right, time to go, whichever Pinkie is ours, follow us. Whichever Pinkie isn’t ours, you should probably know that humans tend to eat a lot of meat. Except Fluttershy.”

“I don’t think I could ever eat anything that had a face,” the human-turned-pegasus whispered.

“Aaand on that note, it is definitely time to go,” Sunset said, trotting back through the portal.

“Hey!” Sunset called from where Princess Celestia was still embracing her. “Flash! One more thing!”

The orange pegasus turned around, still completely confused. “Um, yes?”

“My guitar?”

“Oh!” He fumbled with the strap. “Let me just…”

A fire-blue aura surrounded him, and he found himself being dragged through the air to land next to his ex. Gently, she lifted the instrument over his head and set it over her own barrel. Then, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Good luck,” she murmured, nodding at her doppelganger, who was watching, curious, from the mirror’s threshold. The stallion nodded dumbly, then staggered away.

“See you all later,” Twilight said, taking Flash gently by the forehoof and following the other humans through the mirror.

Sunset paused, putting a hoof to her chin. "Oh, hey!" she shouted at the mirror. "Hey, wait! If we could maybe figure out a way to get all my stuff through the portal, that would be good! Like, maybe not even all of it, just the pictures. And the books. And the lamp! I really liked that lamp. But, uh, yeah, anytime that works for you guys. Love ya!"

At long last, Celestia turned to her student again. “Oh, my dear Sunset, I’m so glad to see you again. Can you ever forgive me?”

Sunset stared at the mirror for several moments longer. Celestia's heart plummeted. But after a long silence, Sunset turned to look at her former mentor, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, yes, you’re all utterly irredeemable but we love you anyway,” Discord grumbled. “Ow!” they added as Fluttershy smacked them with a wing.

“Trixie believes that what Discord is saying is that you both forgave each other long ago, so all you need to do now is to forgive yourselves so you can move on with your lives.”

Everypony stared. “That was... deeper than I’d expected,” Spike said.

“It also wasn’t even remotely what I meant— Ow! Okay, okay, I’ll behave!” Discord grumbled.

Sunset wriggled free of the princess’s grip. “Thank you, Trixie,” she said sincerely. “You saved my life, my sanity, everything, even though I was really terrible to you. I hope you know how much that means to me.”

The unicorn grinned. “They don’t call Trixie ‘Great and Powerful’ for nothing.”

“Yes, yes, now, Celly, what's your schedule look like for the next two weeks? I want to plan Sunset's coronation dinner, and I need to know so I can schedule it at the most inconvenient time for you, possibly in the middle of your lunch break, or three in the morning. It isn’t every day you get a new draconequus, you know, and what’s more…”

Sunset looked around. Ponies were smiling at her. Her surrogate mother was trading barbs with a chaos spirit. A time traveler stood over in one corner, chuckling softly as he watched them. A unicorn and a dragon were snogging very publicly. Things had changed. Her world would never be the same again. All things considered though, she could work with this.

The Great and Powerful Trixie grinned at her and whispered, “Just wait until we face something REALLY unusual.”

Sunset grinned back. Yeah. She could work with this.

Author's Note

Next Time on Doctor Whooves

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Meanwhile, at the Doo-Turner house, the Doctor was staring fixedly at what appeared to be a radio with a fob watch and an egg whisk tied onto it with electrical tape. A small yellow light was flashing. “That can’t be right…” he muttered.

“Oh. Oh, this is bad.” He pulled out a fob watch, which had, for the past several days, been flashing red and gold. He swallowed. “This is very bad,” he whispered.

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There was a dull pounding in her head when she awoke. An orange pony stood over her, looking on in concern. “Y’all right, sugarcube?”
Colgate looked up at her. “I think I’m going mad,” she whispered as the drums continued to beat out their nightmarish rhythm.

Applejack’s mouth dropped. “Where are we?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“Gallifrey,” a dull voice replied from behind her. “In the last days of the Time War. The last days of being.”

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Colgate— no, Minuette— no, Fred— was in a jungle— was in a TARDIS— was in the ruined Citadel— with a friend— with a lover— with her bodyguard— alone- she was dying— she was going mad— she was dying— she was already dead— she would die—
She screamed, long and loud enough to shake the walls.

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