Reunions and Lamentsby Coyote de La ManchaChapters1: Maturity.2: Emergence.4. Minority.5. Transition.6: Childhood.7: Rebirth.Epilogue: New Beginnings.3: Adolescence.1: Maturity.. Careful, careful… okay, now around the molars… careful… The toothbrush clattered into the sink. “Fuck.” Sunrise Shimmer sighed, then looked at her reflection. She’d gotten halfway through brushing her teeth before dropping the damn thing, which was a new record. And she knew she should be feeling accomplished. And, in a way, she kinda was. But, God damn it. Sunrise took a moment, gathering her frustration and anger, stowing it into a box in her mind with practiced ease. Today was the day she started learning magic with Twilight. Sunrise had been studying metaphysical theory and history for the last several weeks, and now she was going to start putting it into practice. Images of herself flying through the strength of her will, battling the forces of evil with bolts of mystic energy, pranced before her mind. This was going to be a good day. The start of something important. She could feel it. But first, the future scourge of all evil had to finish brushing her teeth. Sunrise scowled at the sink, then sighed again, beginning the laborious task of picking her toothbrush up with her hooves. Maybe fate would be kind, and Twilight would start her off with telekinesis. . As Sunrise passed through the study’s entrance, she glanced up at the bird stand and the large owl slumbering there. “Hey, Minerva,” she said softly as she passed. The owl fluffled her feathers sleepily in reply. Sunrise nodded to herself, and continued on. Animals were smarter in her new home than in the world she came from. It didn’t seem polite to ignore them. Then she stopped, smiling again as she realized where her thoughts had led her. Yeah. This was home. Then, she took a deep breath. It would be okay. Looking at her surroundings, Sunrise deliberately allowed herself to be overcome by wonder. It wasn’t difficult. Sunrise had never been inside Twilight’s study before, and entering her mentor’s sanctum was very much like walking into the world’s largest geode. The place was a huge, almost spherical room with a high domed ceiling, its surface knobbled with an assortment of swirls and facets of white, deep azure, and sky blue. The surface caught the gentle glow of the sun as it streamed in through the windows, scattering it across the walls and ceiling like handfuls of jewels onto a topaz sea. It would have been a breathtaking sight even without its contents. But being the sanctum sanctorum of Twilight Sparkle it was, of course, full of books. Shelves and shelves of them. All colors and sizes of books, ranging from recent novels to ancient yellow-paged tomes, to massive, leather-bound grimoires. All of them meticulously organized and lovingly cared for, their arrangement occasionally complimented by small sculptures or other works of art, generally used as bookends. For a moment, Sunrise just stood where she was, drinking in the scintillating beauty around her. The air was filled with the exhilarating scent of ancient tomes blending with well cared-for stone, and the musty fragrance seemed to swirl around her, welcoming her in. The six round tables were heavy, dark oak, covered with different magical projects Twilight was working on here and there, or candelabras, or writing supplies, or, well, more books. Twilight was already there, reading some ancient tome or other. Spike was there too, of course, clearing off a table more removed from the rest. Waving to Sunrise, he placed an ornate candelabra of silver and onyx in the table’s center. As Sunrise returned Spike’s wave, Twilight closed her book and trotted towards her. “So, looking forward to this?” she asked after a quick embrace. Sunrise raised an eyebrow. “Only all my life.” “Great! I thought I’d start you off with basic levitation skills—” “Yes!” Sunrise pranced about the study like a foal at a birthday party, while Twilight looked on, bemused. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!” Twilight chuckled. “You know, I had a lot of trouble when I first arrived in your old world, too. Hands are… complicated. It took me a while.” Sunrise gave a sheepish smile. “That obvious, huh?” “Only if you’ve been there.” Twilight’s grin was infectious, and Sunrise returned it. “So, you starting me off with feathers?” “You’ve been studying,” Twilight said with approval. One of her wing feathers floated gracefully to a nearby table, illuminated by her will. “That being the case, can you tell me why we start with feathers?” Sunrise took a breath to dispel her nervousness. “The feathers used in early training are light and aerodynamic, and their texture allows for easier purchase by the mind,” she said. “They’re also associated with flight, both sympathetically and symbolically; and with pony magic, being from pegasi – or in this case, from an alicorn – which makes them ideal for beginners.” On the table was a candelabra, devoid of candles, the narrow points of its drip pans easily visible. The feather alighted delicately on top of the center point while Twilight beamed at her pupil. “Excellent.” She gave Sunrise a friendly elbow. “Not that I expected anything less.” Sunrise grinned again. “Thanks.” “So, that said, it’s time for the real lesson,” Twilight said. “Start out by extending your mind towards the feather. Close your eyes, if that helps. Good. Now, focus. Don’t strain, this isn’t a contest. At this stage, strain just blocks your talent. Just… flow. Your horn is the conduit of your will, and also of your mystic senses. Think of an antenna, where you’re from. Or a radio tower, actually.” Slowly, a gentle glow began to form around the unicorn’s horn. A delicate cyan, the color of her eyes. Twilight gave a delighted gasp. “That’s great! Now, reach out with your mind. Just… feel the feather. And, when you’re ready—” There was a gentle fwuph! of flame, and the feather was nothing more than a few drifting ashes. Twilight blinked. For a moment, neither of them spoke, simply staring at the table with eyebrows raised. “Hm,” Twilight said. “I… take it that’s not supposed to happen?” Sunrise ventured. Twilight cocked her head, genuinely intrigued. “Never in my experience.” For a little longer, the two of them considered the table and its tiny ashes. “Well,” Sunrise said at last, “Long as it doesn’t mean I’m part of some dire prophesy or something...” Twilight shook her head. “No, I think we’re pretty much out of prophesies. It probably just means that everypony learns differently. And after all, you’re only starting this now, with a young adult’s power. So, come to think of it, we should expect some unusual occurrences.” Another feather drifted out from Twilight’s wing, taking the place of its sibling. “Besides, less than two minutes in, you’re already manifesting.” She gave Sunrise a confident smile. “You’ve got this.” Just then, a buzzing sound was heard, further down the hall. It reminded Sunrise of a cell phone vibrating on a hard table. At Sunrise’s quizzical look, Twilight smiled. “That’s the journal. Sunset’s writing me.” “The journal?” Twilight nodded. “The link between the books she and I have is what allows the trans-dimensional portal stabilization matrix to function.” She rose, levitating another feather next to the candelabra. “But, since I still need to read the book to know what she wrote…” Sunrise nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.” As Twilight entered the hall, she could hear another fwuph! from behind her, followed by Sunrise’s verbal struggles: “Oh, come on! Mother fu— feathering son of a… birch…tree…” As Twilight re-entered the study a minute later, she could see Spike rolling on the ground, gripping his sides, helpless with laughter. Sunrise scowled down at him. “You,” the unicorn said with mock severity, “are no freaking help.” The young dragon looked at her for a second, eyes huge with barely contained mirth. Then he was off again, slapping the floor as he howled with laughter. “Yeah, okay,” Sunrise said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that funny.” Twilight took in the scene as Sunrise turned to Minerva. The unicorn gestured at Spike, as if to say, See? See what I have to deal with? For her part, the owl sleepily half-opened one eye, ruffled her chest feathers slightly, then went back to sleep. Spike, meanwhile, would almost get the laughter under control… and then Sunrise would give him a Look, and then he would be off again, the original joke long since eclipsed by the current running gag. “Even the wildlife is against me,” Sunrise said to the ceiling. “I have no friends…” While Spike struggled to compose himself and Sunrise appealed to the heavens for justice, Twilight smiled. Friendships on-course and going strong, she thought. Good for you, Sunny. . As Twilight continued reading, her smile got wider and wider. Finally, grinning, she looked up at an expectant Sunrise and Spike. “Well?!?” Sunrise practically exploded. “Yeah, don’t keep us waiting!” Spike agreed. “Sunset and Twilight from her world are getting mar-rieeed,” Twilight sang happily. “Yes!” Spike cheered, pumping a fist into the air. “Woo-hoo! That is awesome!” Sunrise stared. “I know, right?” Twilight beamed. “And listen to this, ‘We would really love it if you and all our friends on your side of the looking glass could make it, so we’ve decided to get married twice… once in our world, and once in yours!’” She looked up again. “So, reading between the lines here, I bet Celestia will be officiating Sunset’s wedding.” She beamed. “Oh, my gosh, can you imagine how happy that will make her?” “Yeah, especially after the way Sunset ran away into another world and became a bitter enemy of Equestria and stole the Element of Magic and almost destroyed both worlds and everything!” Spike cheered. Twilight rolled her eyes. “Way to put it into perspective, Spike.” “Hey, I’m just saying, things are better now.” “Well, okay, point taken… um, Sunny?” Twilight frowned, noticing Sunrise’s expression. “What’s wrong?” “Married?” Sunrise asked. “Yes…” Twilight said cautiously. “Married. As in, wedlock.” Twilight’s caution increased. “That... is what the word means, yes.” “At age eighteen.” Twilight’s frown deepened. “Since that’s how old they are, I would presume so…” “And am I the only person here who thinks this might be, I don’t know, a bad decision?” Spike looked from Twilight to Sunrise and back. “...Probably?” he ventured. Twilight set the book on the table. “Alright, let’s take a minute. You obviously have concerns, and these are our friends, too… would you mind sharing them?” Sunrise sighed. “Look, I know that ponies are considered young adults at fifteen, and all that. You’ve still got apprenticeships that start as early as nine. And, that’s fine. Humans used to do that too, hundreds of years ago. And maybe ponies just mature differently. Fine, cool, I get that. But eighteen-year-old humans aren’t done maturing.” “The wise never are.” Sunrise rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Urgh! You know what I mean.” “Okay, but then what about you?” Spike asked. Sunrise smirked. “Yeah, nice try, but I’m a pony now. And they’re both human. I don’t know about unicorns, but the human brain doesn’t even finish maturing until something like, between twenty-four and twenty-seven.” “Sure, but then what about you and Luna?” He pressed. “You guys are dating, right?” “That’s not the same thing! We’re not looking at forming a lifelong, legally-committed family bond at the age of… okay, my age of...” Sunrise blinked. “Okay, that just got weird.” Then she shook herself. “But my point is…” “Your point is?” prompted an increasingly amused Twilight. “My point is, marriage raises the stakes. In everything.” She made a sour face. “And most high school marriages just don’t make it.” “They’ve graduated,” Twilight pointed out. “Only just! And there are a lot of hard feelings afterwards when those marriages don’t work. And besides, they’ve known each other, what, a year?” Twilight nodded, still puzzled. “Well, sure. But most engagements are settled in a few months, unless the ponies meet when they’re still underage—” “They’re human,” Sunrise said again. “Sunset is human now, like I’m a unicorn! Which is both a different society and a different species.” Twilight looked at her quizzically. “So, you think they should…?” Sunrise made a face. “I dunno. ‘Should’ is too strong a word. I mean, it’s their lives. I just…” She sighed, sitting down on the floor. “I don’t know. I want them to be happy, and I don’t want them getting hurt. That’s all.” Then she sighed again, looking away. “Well, more hurt,” she added. Spike, meanwhile, had been reading the book’s continuing red script. “Hm. Well, Sunset says it’s going to be a long engagement.” He blinked. “Wow. A really long engagement.” “Oh? How long?” Twilight read over his shoulder. “Um… looks like around nine years.” Sunrise’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah,” Twilight agreed. “Apparently Sunset raised some of the same concerns, and Twilight – her Twilight – cited something about, um, excuse me, Spike…” she flipped back a page. “Here it is: ‘positive correlative evidence supporting conditional increases in the neurological development rate of the frontal lobe when adapting to certain forms of survival-oriented environmental stress.’” Sunrise looked upwards for strength. “Of course she did.” “I wonder if she’d send me a copy of those studies,” Twilight mused. Sunrise buried her face in her hooves. “Of course you do.” “Well, anyway. Sunset says they’re engaged now,” Twilight went on, turning the page back as she refocused, “because their commitment is genuine. But they’re taking the actual oaths when they’re older, because they both understand biology. The initial estimate is about nine years – which would put them both at age twenty-seven – but apparently the final date is still open to negotiation.” Standing, Sunrise took a deep, fortifying breath. Then, she let it out in the Sigh of the Eternally Enduring. “Nutjob,” she said, shaking her head. “My otherworldly twin sister is a certifiable nutjob.” Spike was vastly amused. “Uh-huh. And what does that make you?” “The only non-delusional person in the family, obviously. Now, come on,” she nodded to the candelabra. “Let’s get back to my learning unicorn magic from a princess in a world full of talking multicolored ponies, so I can spend time later with my princess girlfriend who’s a dream-walking alicorn.” “Marefriend,” Twilight corrected her happily. Held by her magic, another feather floated into place. Unperturbed, Sunrise shrugged. “Whatever.” Author's Note . . . . . . While Sunrise’s concerns on neurological maturity are based on science, I have spun the studies that Sci-Twi references completely out of whole cloth. They might exist in our world, but the neurology of emerging adults was not my primary focus when I had proper access to peer-reviewed psych articles. So I know a little about it, but not a lot. Within the EG world, of course, those studies do exist. However: in that world’s academia, they have also been challenged in several peer-reviewed studies that followed. An absolute answer regarding the effects of adventuring on the neurological maturity of emerging adults (age 18-27 or so) in the human population therefore remains unavailable at this time. 2: Emergence.. The sun was finally set. Not one of her more glorious sundowns by any means, she admitted to herself. But great ancestors beyond, she was tired. Not that she regretted the reason for her fatigue. Contrary to what the various school teachers seemed to think, she adored it when their classes visited the palace on field trips. It gave her an opportunity to not only help foals understand their government a bit better, but also to personally meet the next generation of ponies growing up nearby. And, well… So many questions, from so many inquisitive minds. So many new eyes, looking at the world with wonder. She smiled at the memory. How absolutely marvelous. But now, Princess Celestia forced herself through the empty corridors, staring at her hooves, willing them to keep moving. A flicker of will and a brief flash of power from her horn, and elsewhere in the palace, her bathtub began to fill. Bless Abacus for suggesting the series of pre-enchantments on her bathing room, so many years ago. Actually drawing a bath sounded like so much work. Then again, in her current state, she might just fall asleep and sink to the bottom of the oversized tub. Celestia chuckled. That might not be so bad. It would be a silly, foolish way to go… but it would be very soothing, and she would smell nice when they pulled her out. On the other hoof, what might Luna say at the funeral? She imagined her long-suffering sister, bereaved, devastated, and yet struggling to keep a straight face in front of a thousand mourning ponies. Alas, my poor dear sister, she lies before us now… so peaceful, so relaxed, so pruney… Celestia giggled. A few of the guards nearby blinked, but were otherwise still. As she continued her way, Celestia focused her mind, doing her nightly check on those life patterns most intertwined with her own. It had never occurred to her to compare the nightly ritual to that of a mother checking in on her foals before retiring, but she would not have argued with the comparison, either. After all, while stability did not necessarily mean happiness, a sudden flux could mean unwelcome change or trauma, and thus merited investigation. And well, regardless of their ages or many heroic deeds, they were all her little ponies. Twilight’s pattern was first, of course. Celestia’s former student seemed at rest, her possibilities sedate, pulsing slightly as they drew in sustenance. Probably, she was reading. Likewise Spike. Although he had always bonded most fiercely with Twilight, Celestia had always felt a special responsibility towards the young drake, and it pleased her to see that his pattern was also at peace. His possibilities were still woven tightly into Twilight’s, of course, but that was to be expected at his age. Meanwhile, both their patterns continued to be far less static than before they’d moved to Ponyville, for which Celestia was infinitely glad. Boredom and stagnation were fates she would wish upon nopony. All in all, their patterns seemed stable, healthy, and flexible, with many strong connections to other life configurations offering mutual support. So, probably all was well with them both. Next, there was Rainbow Dash’s pattern. Quasi-isolated as ever, yet supporting so many others. And there was her young protégé’s life pattern, of course, woven into hers as though they were siblings. Celestia smiled. On to the next. Looking in on Fluttershy’s pattern, Celestia saw that it was feeding strength and stability into an unreadable number of other lives and events. As always. Point of fact, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy supported the stability of so many other lives, they were both frankly fascinating to watch. And Celestia suspected neither of them had any true idea just how important they were, on so many levels. But, as they both seemed to be stable and at rest, Celestia shifted her attention to the next pony on her mental list. Pinkie Pie—Yes, there she was, full of flux and hard to read as ever. Celestia gave a helpless mental shrug. Hopefully, all was well with her. Moving on. Applejack certainly seemed awake, which was unusual after dusk. And her pattern was not so much in flux as it was subtly shifting in perpetuity. Further, there was another, deeply intertwined with hers… ah, yes, that was Rarity’s of course. Who was also awake, and whose pattern was also shifting in a very similar fashion. Interesting. Celestia contemplated this. Both of them had sisters who were linked into their patterns, naturally. But the mares’ patterns were even more deeply interwoven into one another than those of their siblings. In fact, even now they were actively entwining themselves further, apparently deliberately, on such a level that… Celestia blushed in sudden realization and turned her senses away, taking in a steadying breath. Yes. Well. Taking a moment to refocus herself, Celestia saw that Raven was also awake, as the majordomo would be for several hours yet. Her life pattern had seemed more and more calcified over the last few months, and tonight it looked positively ghastly. Celestia had suggested a holiday for her last week, but Raven had declined. Reexamining the situation, Celestia determined she might have to insist. She made a mental note to speak with the unicorn on the morrow. Perhaps over lunch, when Raven would have a harder time making excuses and getting away. That left only the newest addition to her short list of charges, Sunrise. Her sister’s marefriend was still not exactly easy to read – she was bound into Luna’s pattern far more than Celestia’s own – but she certainly seemed worth the added effort. Besides, all personal qualities aside, she made Luna happy. Sunrise Shimmer could have been a demon from Tartarus itself, and Celestia would have been delighted to know her for that reason alone. Hopefully, as time went on, they would become closer, and the young mare’s pattern would become easier to check in on. But in the meantime… Yes, there it was. It took effort, but Celestia could just make it out, crumpled and folded in on itself as before, strands of potential half-strangled by the creases. Celestia sighed. Whatever had happened to her in that strange neighboring world, Sunrise’s pattern was devastatingly injured from it. Still, it seemed to Celestia that Sunrise was healing, that her possibilities seemed a little less curtailed than when they had first met. Granted, even if she could have seen the unicorn’s life pattern more clearly, it was hard to be sure over such a short time. But she did seem healthier than— Wait. Celestia watched as Sunrise’s pattern suddenly clenched like a fist, collapsing against another pattern it had found. Celestia strained, trying to see… Oh. She blinked. Oh, dear. Celestia spread her wings slightly, gently gliding through the corridors as quickly as she dared. The unicorn would surely be in a delicate state, and whatever had happened, Celestia had no intention of somehow making things worse by startling or intimidating her Her refined senses allowed her to read patterns, not geography. But she knew the configuration Sunrise had encountered, all too well. And there was only one place in Equestria where any part of its touch yet remained. . Sunrise silently closed the door to Luna’s chambers behind her. Surprising Luna with breakfast had been awesome, and the berry pancakes had been as big a hit as Twilight had promised. But it was a long way back home, and if she was going to get any sleep she needed to head out now. She took a moment, and smiled at the silvery moon engraved into the midnight blue door, its bejeweled silver handle. Then, she reached out, gently resting a hoof on the crescent shape. She’d always been more of a night person, but the moon had come to mean something very different in recent weeks. Sighing happily, she looked across the hall at the door opposite Luna’s, gold sun engraved on white pine. The sun had also come to mean something new lately, though not quite so much. The door next to Luna’s was unadorned, plain oak. And then, next to that, rose and azure, with a blue bejeweled heart. The other princess, she guessed. Cadence? That sounded right; Sunrise hadn’t read much about her. Maybe she was a princess of music. That would be pretty awesome. Across the hall from Princes Cadence’s room was a violet door with a familiar six-pointed star. Twilight’s old room, obviously. And Twilight had mentioned that Cadence had used to foalsit her, so the rooms being across from each other made sense… Then, Sunrise stopped, puzzled. Why the door in-between Twilight’s old room and Celestia’s? It wasn’t just an oak door, like most of the others down this hall. It was made of red wood - cherry, maybe? - with a clear finish and a elegantly curled gold handle. It looked like somepony had painted pictures on the door, years ago, only they hadn’t stuck to the varnish and had mostly fallen away over time. And they were only on the bottom half, what little was left. Sunrise peered at the door for a moment, genuinely intrigued. Then, by sheer impulse, she twisted the ornate golden handle and let the door swing inward… and immediately grabbed for the door again. What was she thinking, this was somepony’s room! But then she froze, door handle half-held in one hoof. The door had opened into— Oh, God. She took in a slow, terrified breath. Stared in disbelief. Oh, God. It wasn’t just anypony’s room. It was hers. It was her old room. Her old bedding with the star-pattern covers, her old navy blue curtains. The old vanity she’d converted into a mirrored desk, her art supplies, her books crowded together on a single bookshelf by her bed. Horror gripped her. Her breathing was fast now, her chest tight and painful. Had it all been a dream? Running away, the years of struggle, finally finding a world of her own…? If she looked in that mirror, would a terrified 14-year-old girl stare back at her? Still human? Still trapped? Sunset didn’t so much fall as collapse with her side against the open door, shaking, staring at the floor. She’d passed the threshold, she realized. It was too late to run. She screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to be trapped in the past. Didn’t want for none of it to be real. Twilight. Luna. Please, she thought, please don’t have been a dream, please… But then, a set of hooves, gentle and strong, were helping her up. Hooves. Not hands. “Sunrise? Are you alright?” Sunrise opened her eyes. There, helping her up, was Celestia. Her ancient violet eyes sad and concerned. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she managed. “Just, um,” she cleared her throat. “Freaking out. A little.” She rubbed the back of her neck, then added as she looked away, “Okay, a lot.” Celestia didn’t seem surprised, but simply nodded with understanding. “This was her room,” she said. “Whose?” “Sunset’s.” Sunrise looked again, her mind taking in the differences now. She saw the desk vanity, not the second-hand piece she’d restored as a child but a well-maintained antique. She saw the covers on the faded books, far more worn and ancient than any she had owned, and no paperbacks. Then, there was the way the bed was neatly made (hers never was), with a gold frame instead of the well-worn brass one her last foster home had supplied for her. The stuffed bear on the bed, a dead ringer for the first one she’d had as a little girl, not the one she’d taken with her when she’d run away for good. But above all, there was the dust. Basic anti-vermin spells would have kept the bugs and mice out, of course. But still, no one had been in the room in years. Maybe decades. “I’ll need to check the wards later,” Celestia said. “They’re supposed to keep out anypony but her.” Her voice was perfectly controlled, but the pain behind it was unmistakable. Sunset stared up at her, stricken. “Oh, man. Oh, Celestia, oh, jeez, I am so sorry…!” “There’s nothing to forgive, my dear.” For all her heartache, Celestia’s smile was genuine. “After all, you weren’t made welcome here by accident.” Sunrise gave a reluctant smile, then glanced at the room again. She quietly reached out and closed the door, then turned back to Celestia. “So. You, um,” she nodded towards the hall. “You wanna… go for a walk? Or something? I mean, I know it’s late for you, and if you need to crash, crash. I just hate for your day to end like this, you know?” Celestia smiled, the royal mask reflexively sliding over her fatigue. Together, the two of them began making their way down the hall. “Yes,” Celestia said. “Thank you. That sounds lovely.” . By the time they’d reached the end of the hall, their conversation had veered towards stress and comfort food. Shortly afterward, their ‘walk’ had led them to the royal kitchens. There, in a walk-in freezer, was a positive treasure trove of ice cream. For several moments Sunrise had just stood, staring, wide-eyed as any foal. Shelves upon shelves, stocked with every flavor imaginable. Ice cream, sherbet, ice cream cakes, frozen custard and more, along with every sundae topping imaginable. “It’s true what they say,” Sunrise had whispered. “In Equestria, Heaven is a real place.” Now, they were sitting across from one another at a kitchen table, happily munching away, an assortment of various topping containers scattered about between them. Celestia had made herself a massive sundae with birthday cake ice cream, whipped cream, bananas and a rainbow of berries. Sunrise, meanwhile, started out with just a few scoops of an ice cream Celestia had recommended for her. She’d been dubious when she’d read the label, but now she sighed in sheer contentment. The strawberries were sweet, the ice cream was creamy, the pistachios were crunchy, and there was just the slightest hint of that sweet jalapeño bite at the end. “You know,” she said, “I was never much of a meat eater. Giving that up wasn’t that big a deal. But ice cream?” She shook her head. “Yeah. If you guys hadn’t had that, it might have been a deal-breaker.” “Agreed,” Celestia said happily. She glanced over at Sunrise’s empty bowl, and asked, “Would you like more?” “Nah, I shouldn’t.” Sunrise gestured towards where the small tub sat, half-empty, clearly labeled, Iced Creame. “That’s all that’s left. I should save it for whoever else.” Celestia raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in invitation. “There’s no one eating that flavor but you,” she said. “What? But then how… ohhh,” Sunrise’s eyes went wide for a moment. Of course. Commercial refrigerators always included spells to keep the food from ageing or getting freezer burn. The label’s archaic spelling should have tipped her off, but she’d been too distracted by its contents. “Wow. Okay. Well, then, I’ll save the rest for Sunny,” she nodded. “She’s bound to come around sometime.” “No,” Celestia shook her head. “Sunset never visits.” Then she sighed, adding, “Forgive me. I have been very foolish. I opened a door, and now I find myself reluctant to enter. That was both careless of me, and rude to you. My apologies.” “No, you’re cool. I… look,” Sunrise dropped her spoon in her bowl, pushed the bowl away. “We’ve both got a lot we’re dealing with, here. And it’s weird. Like, really weird. I’ve got all those people – ponies, whatever – who are acting like I’m long-lost family or something, and you’ve got whatever old crap I’m digging up just by being around.” Celestia studied her. “And?” “I dunno, maybe your first impulse was right. Maybe we should just face all this, head on.” Celestia opened her mouth, then closed it. “How would we start?” she said at last. “Well, how about, um… how much do I really remind you of her?” Celestia looked back into her ice cream. “A great deal,” she said. “You’re not the same person, obviously. And your differences are also obvious. But at the same time, you could be sisters. I found myself wishing, shortly after we met, that you could have been found here together. She desperately needed someone who understood her, and she had no one.” Sunrise nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But things are better now, for both of us.” “Yes.” Celestia’s smile hovered for a moment, then turned wistful as she added, “She has gained a kind heart over the years, and learned so much I couldn’t teach her. I wish I could see her again.” “I wish I could help.” Celestia considered the young mare across from her, then said, “Yet, you came here so suddenly, yourself. Forgive my asking, but surely there’s someone in your old world who also misses you, who wonders what might have been? Sunrise shook her head. “Not really. I mean, once I hit the road, I had a few teachers now and then. Mostly Roundhouse, but I guess there were a few others, too. “ Celestia cocked her head. “Roundhouse?” Sunrise nodded. “Yeah. He was only a few years older than me, but he’d been on his own since he was nine. He taught me how to fight, how to hustle, how to stay alive. How to rely on myself, and why.” She chuckled a little at the memories, her voice taking on a soft drawl as she recited, “Nevuh trust anyone but yo’self. In the dahkest moments, even yo’ shadow abandons you.” After a moment, she continued, “And, he proved it, too. The last lesson he ever taught me was when he took off while I was asleep, with all our money and goods. I had to start all over again, with nothing but the skills he’d given me and a will to survive.” She glanced at the princess across from her, then looked down. “Sorry. I must be totally blowing your image of me tonight.” But Celestia shook her head. “Not even a little. Luna has spoken highly of your strength and determination. It is one of the many things she loves about you. I’d just never had any details until now.” Sunrise gave a rueful smile. “Thanks.” Then, taking a breath, she continued, “Anyway, all my life, I could have just disappeared, and no one would have really cared. Even when I was in the system, more often than not I was just extra income… that, or else someone too young to fight back. “So, eventually, I did disappear. Multiple times. And there is a kind of freedom, I guess, being able to just vanish without a word. But my life was never like Sunset’s. I never had a Celestia, growing up.” Celestia looked at her fondly. “Well, you do now.” Then, as the younger mare looked away, she frowned. “Sunrise? Are you sure you’re alright?” “Sure. I just… this is…” She lapsed into a helpless silence. Celestia considered her, then nodded. “I think I understand,” she said kindly. “You’ve probably read that my sister and I weren’t born royalty. The fact is, there was no such thing in those days. Life was a constant struggle to survive, and many times we were met even by our fellow ponies with hostility, or open hatred. Some tried to kill us, as if we were monsters spawned out of flux. And those few who did reach out to us, didn’t know us.” Celestia took another bite, then continued, “Then, Discord fell. And somehow, despite our youth, we found ourselves suddenly exalted. Beloved by the people who became our subjects and our nation. Even worshiped, for a time. Their affections foisted upon us, whether we would or no.” Sunrise sighed, ran a hoof along her zebra-like mane. “Yeah. Nowhere the same scale, but yeah. Kinda.” Celestia nodded her agreement. “It is terrifying.” Cocking her head in thought, she added, “Maybe we’ve been a little inconsiderate, heaping so much on you so quickly.” “No, no, you’re cool,” Sunrise sighed again. “It’s just… why does all this have to be so feathering scary? Can you at least tell me that?” “Perhaps because you have the wisdom to know that accepting friendship, and returning it, forms a bond. Just as you know that with that bond comes responsibilities.” Sunrise sighed again. She leaned her chin on her hooves, and tried to push away the memories. “Yeah,” she muttered. “But what you don’t understand yet is that we haven’t put our trust in you blindly,” Celestia went on. “Nor have we given you our love on a whim. We simply see the worth in you that you don’t yet.” Sunrise leaned a cheek on one hoof. “Joy.” Celestia chuckled. “I know. I don’t know how to advise you how best to handle this, dear one. I wish I did. But I can’t see into your heart, and my sense for patterns works far better on events than on sapient beings.” The ancient alicorn glanced over at Sunrise. She saw, of course, the red and gold mohawk, the golden ear hoops in fresh piercings. The black leather cloak that concealed Sunrise’s lack of cutie mark, despite her age. But beyond that, Celestia took in the grace rippling beneath the unicorn’s amber coat, the strength behind those azure eyes only beginning to be discovered. A formidable young mare, only now approaching the true summer of her power. “Still,” Celestia concluded, “What I do know is, one way or another, you will find the answers you need.” “Because I’m so much like Sunset?” Celestia looked down into her bowl again. Sunrise winced. Fucking idiot! she thought. But before she could apologize, Celestia spoke, in a voice both soft and sad. “No, Sunrise,” she said. “It’s because you have a brilliant mind, a strong heart… and a far better teacher than she ever did.” Then, silence. Say something! Sunrise raged at herself. Fucking say something! She felt like she’d just stabbed Celestia through the spine. Like she’d shoved an icicle through her own chest. I love you, too, she thought. I love you all, and I’m sorry I keep hurting you. Not only by being stupid, but just by fucking being here! She could say that. She could. And she would mean it, every word. But instead, when she opened her mouth, the words hit her closed throat and died there, unspoken. She bit her lip. It wasn’t fair. Truth was supposed to make it easier to talk, not harder. And all the while, Celestia sat with a half-eaten sundae before her, lost in her own regrets. Damn it, no, Sunrise thought. Just... no. In a sudden burst of motion, Sunrise rose from her chair. She strode around the table and fiercely embraced the sad monarch, hoping desperately that if she did, maybe she wouldn’t have to say anything. There was a great rustling of wings, and Celestia enveloped her in a gentle, powerful embrace in return, her own chair upturning behind her. As if to say, no, she didn’t need to say a single word. . Hey, this is Sunrise. Twilight said it was okay for me to use the book, so, yeah. Anyway. Um, there is no graceful way to say this, but I kinda accidentally went into your old room last night. Celestia is still keeping it like it was when you left. For several moments, Sunset stared at the message. Celestia was… what? Sunset looked up from the journal, her mind reeling. It had never occurred to her that Celestia would… Meanwhile, more words were forming on the mystical pages. Everything is just like you left it, and it’s warded against anypony but you. I guess we’re twins enough that the wards got confused. Is there Another long pause. anything you want sent to you? the line finished. Sunset took in a long, deep breath. Released it slowly, in deliberate control Hey Sunny, this is Sunset. Yeah, I wouldn’t know what to say either. I’ll need some time. This is a lot. Hey, no prob. I should put the book up, get back to practice anyway. Stupid feathers. Sunset snorted, grinning. I remember. Give ‘em hell. There was the barest of pauses before response. Sister, you have no idea. Sunset closed the book, her grin vanishing. With great, exaggerated care, she placed the book on the shelf behind her, slid it into place. She stood from the couch, closed her eyes, and took in another slow, deep breath. . Twilight’s head jerked up when she heard the scream. Quickly extinguishing the Bunsen and setting aside the vial she’d been examining, she darted from the garage into the house, shedding her lab coat as she did. The indecipherable sounds of rage became words as she rounded into the living room. “…in a convent, god damn it all to hell and Hong Kong with a flying fuck at Santa Claus!” Sunset railed, throwing pillows in all directions. “You conceited, self-righteous, all-knowing, stuck-up, solar-powered, pseudo-precognitive, smirking, manipulative, sun-butted BITCH!” Twilight screeched to a halt as a crimson-faced Sunset rounded on her with teeth bared like a Tengu mask. “Um…” she tried, a little timidly. “…Rainbow Dash?” “No!” Sunset said, covering her eyes with her hands. “Not Rainbow Dash! Celestia! Fucking Celestia! My mentor! The closest thing to a mom I ever had, which isn’t fucking saying much,” she ranted, gathering momentum again. “Celestia, the Sun Maiden, the Lady Who Burns, the Princess of Day and who the fuck knows how many other slobbery titles…!” Filing away the term ‘slobbery title’ for later reference, Twilight walked to her lover and started to put a hand on her shoulder. But Sunset just collapsed back onto the couch. “Even when I left,” she snarled. “Even when I fucking left, even then, she couldn’t take me seriously.” Then, suddenly spent, she fell back, her head bonking slightly on the bookshelf behind her. Taking advantage of the lull in the storm, Twilight sat beside her, put her arm around her. “What did she do?” She asked. “Sunrise just wrote,” Sunset said, staring at the ceiling. “Celestia’s been keeping my room exactly like it was when I left. And I mean, exactly like it was. Untouched. Magically locked against anyone but me. Ready for me to just move back in any time. She was so sure, so absolutely fucking certain that I would fail, that I’d realize that everything I’d done was just some big mistake, and that I’d come crawling back to her, begging forgiveness…” Twilight hugged her. “Hey…” “And you know what?” Sunset went on, pressing her fists against her temples, eyes wide. “You know what the biggest fucking burn is? I did! I totally fucking did! I bowed and scraped, and fucking begged her to forgive me, the very picture of penance, as soon as I needed help with that goddamned memory stone. Christ!” She buried her head in her arms. “She must have been fucking laughing all the—no,” she corrected herself with a snarl. “No laughing. Her face might crack. Just a knowing smirk and an ‘I told you so’ as soon as I was out of earshot. The only thing missing was me begging for my old room back, because of course everything I’d tried on my own had failed. God damn it.” She sighed, then repeated, “God damn it!” Gently, Twilight began massaging Sunset’s shoulders. Sunset moaned a little. “My folks are keeping my room for me, too,” Twilight said. Sunset’s head snapped up, her face stricken. “But I thought they liked me…!” Twilight shook her head, still massaging. “No, no, that’s not what that means. They discussed it with me. It means they want to be there for me, while they’re giving me my own space. They’re giving me – and you – a place to land in case of accident, so we don’t get hurt. A safety net.” Sunset blinked. “They don’t think we can’t succeed,” Twilight said. “They’re trying to show support by making sure that we’re never cornered, and that I know we’re always welcome. Both of us.” Sunset blinked again. “In your case, with Celestia, it’s probably also communication,” Twilight said, considering. “According to everything I’ve read, complete renovation of a child’s bedroom in western societies is usually reserved for their marriage, for an acknowledgement of their full adulthood, or in the event of their death. Whichever comes first. “The main exceptions are when there’s been a bad falling-out. Then, the room is sometimes immediately rented out, turned into an office, or whatever. Showing that the bridges are burned. That their kid is dead to them. And from what you’ve indicated in the past, pony Equestria and human Equestria often have very similar root customs. “So, since your parting words were angry, and you’ve talked before about how difficult your relationship was when you were a kid, it seems logical that she’d be extra concerned about further miscommunications. Therefore, this may also be an attempt at a passive, non-time specific nonverbal message.” “Meaning?” “Meaning she probably didn’t want to risk your coming back unannounced, and then thinking you’d been written off. So, she’s protecting your safe place for you. Just in case.” Sunset stared into space, processing Twilight’s words. “I’m an asshole,” she said at last. Twilight kissed Sunset’s cheek. Then she slipped behind her to start working on her shoulder blades, contentedly crossing her legs around Sunset’s waist. “I’m a crazy, psychotic, screaming asshole,” Sunset went on. “Sweet Jesus, every time I start thinking I’m getting over this whole rage-driven bitch queen thing…” Twilight kissed the back of her head. “And, god damn,” Sunset went on. “It’s been a few years over here, but over there it’s been, what… generations? It’s had to have been. I mean, I never worked out the conversion rate between timelines, it might not have even been a constant until Twilight built her stabilization matrix, but…” She slumped. “Even after everything I’ve learned, I’m still a selfish bitch. God, I never even thought what she’s been going through, all this time. Seriously, never. I only even showed up when I needed something. What’s it been like for her, all these years? “My old teacher…” She sighed, resting her chin on her fists while Twilight worked on the base of her skull. “Hell, I need to stop kidding myself. She’s my foster mom, for all our problems. And what must she have been feeling? First, I ran away. Then, I went back and I stole Twilight’s coronet – which was the ultimate betrayal of every trust Celestia’d ever placed in me – then I found a better home in another world. And then I just stayed here. Even after the gate was stabilized, even after graduation…” She sighed, slumping down again. “I’d stayed away all this time, thinking I wasn’t wanted. And now…” She covered her face in her hands. “Damn it! Every time I start thinking I’m not the selfish little bitch I used to be…” “So, we’re going, right?” Twilight asked. “That is where we’re headed with all this, right?” Sunset started, then half-turned to stare at her. “I mean, I finally get to see where you grew up, meet your mom,” Twilight went on, “plus, a chance to study unicorns in their own environment when they’re actually unicorns. Meet,” she amended quickly, while Sunset watched her with amusement. “I mean meet. Meet unicorns. “And besides,” She looked Sunset over her frames with mock severity. “My counterpart’s library is over there. And if you think I’m passing that up, then you’re sorely mistaken.” Sunset took a deep, fortifying breath, and released it. Then she rose, pulling her fiancé to her feet and hugging her fiercely. There was a quick kiss, then an exchanged smile, foreheads touching. “Yeah. Let’s get ready. I’ve put this off for too long.” “Now you’re talking.” 4. Minority.. “You can do this,” the pegasus Twilight whispered. “Uh-huh,” her fiancé whispered back, obviously not convinced. “You have a plan.” “Sure.” “You’ve got this.” “Right.” Before them, a pair of giant doors loomed, massive constructs of Equestrian steel. Beyond them, the royal entry hall. And past that, through even more massive doors of enchanted gold, the throne room itself. And within, Princess Celestia. Sunset Shimmer swallowed, looked uncertainly at the pegasus beside her. “Honey...” she squeezed her eyes closed, her voice was a harsh whisper. “Oh, God, Honey, I can’t...!” Twilight Sparkle turned to her, enfolding her in her wings. “Yes, you can. You’ve faced down sirens, rogue magic, berserk would-be nature spirits... and that was in high school.” She kissed her fiancé’s cheek. “You can do this. She isn’t even an enemy.” “But I didn’t care about them!” Sunset glanced at the doors, then back to Twilight Sparkle. “This is... I don’t know!” “Look, what’s the worst that can happen?” Sunset seemed to shrink slightly. “Everything?” Twilight embraced her harder. “So, then, what’s the best that can happen?” Sunset hesitated, then looked away. “That’ll never happen.” “Not if you don’t go forward, no,” Twilight agreed. “You can go on, and face this. Or you can go back, and I’ll never bring it up again.” Gently, she touched Sunset’s cheek, prompting the unicorn to look at her again. “But whatever you do, I’ll support your decision.” For a moment, Sunset met her lover’s gaze. Then, closing her eyes, she nodded. “Yeah, okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.” Behind the pair, Sunrise Shimmer and the Princess of Friendship followed at a respectful distance, ready to offer both support and privacy. As the great doors slowly opened, the hall beyond was plainly seen... and the throne room, as well. But strangely, the great hall was busy with an assortment of petitioners and nobility, all milling about in varying degrees of resentment. “Just what did she mean, calling a recess in the middle of an audience?” one unicorn demanded from his companions. “Why, the very idea!” “Rescheduling all appointments for the next three days in accordance of distance traveled to be heard?” a regal-looking pegasus shrilled. “Honestly, I never saw the like!” “Hmph! Why is she even here?” an earth pony snorted. “Doesn’t she do her best work at night?” The conversations slowly faded into a quiet murmur as Princess Twilight entered the room. The nobles, gentry, and petitioning commonponies bowed to Princess Twilight - who nodded in return - and a few even called out to her or cheered. For her part, the princess waved, smiled, and politely kept the group of four ponies moving through the parting throng towards the throne room itself. Beyond the great golden doors - always kept open during the day - the throne room was plainly visible. It was also all but empty. Lining the walls were the usual guards, of course... but seated on the twin thrones were both sisters of the Equestrian Diarchy. Their gaze fell fully upon the four ponies who entered, even as the palace guards continued to politely and deferentially guide the last of the petitioners into the entry hall. The gradually rising sounds of the displaced court were all that saved the four from the throne room’s silence. Princess Twilight frowned. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why is Luna here? What’s going on? I thought we would have to deal with lines of ponies just to get in.” Sunrise looked upwards at the ceiling. “Yeah, well, I might have sent ahead once we were underway.” “Sent what ahead? How did you...” the alicorn stopped, staring at her friend. “You can do that?” Sunrise shrugged. “Well, it isn’t me, exactly. But we’ve gotten really... um... close.” Then she smiled, blushing a little. “So, kinda. Yeah.” Pulling a small scroll out from her courtly attire, a white unicorn mare standing near the thrones read, “Announcing, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, Sunrise Shimmer, and...” She blinked, frowning, than read, “...and Twilight Sparkle.” Raven Inkwell considered the matter for only a moment before shrugging to herself, replacing the scroll. Stranger things had certainly happened before. As Sunset approached the great dias, both mares behind her could see her entire body cringing, see the tension in her back, her legs, her flanks. The pegasus beside her was walking against her, now, giving her as much comfort and support as she could. At length, they stopped, two pairs of ponies before the Queens of Night and Day. Luna’s eyes were gentle and kind, yet impassive. Her interference would plainly be minimal. Celestia’s gaze was hard as diamond, her features mask-like and cold. Sunset fidgeted, scarcely daring to meet her old mentor’s stare. She levitated several books out from her saddlebags and towards Princess Celestia in a blue-green glow. “Here, um, these are yours,” she said to the floor. “I’m sorry I took them when I left, and that I took so long to return them. I guess I should have brought them last time…” A golden aura enveloped the books, setting them to one side. “Thank you,” Celestia said, a little awkwardly. “Yes, I imagine these have been missed in the Royal Canterlot Library.” “Yeah. Well.” Sunset looked to the pegasus beside her. “Um, anyway, this is Twilight Sparkle. The one from my world. I mean,” she went on, “the world where I live now. Where my home is. Not in any bad sense,” she added quickly. “I mean, this is… urgh!” she stared at the floor, fighting back tears. “Damn it, Why is this so hard?!?” She could feel Twilight’s hoof on her shoulder – her Twilight – and placed her own hoof over it. This had been a mistake, Sunset realized, but not an irreparable one. She could still make her formal excuses and leave. Twilight would still get to fly some more, plus geek-out with Princess Twilight and her library. They could just stay in Ponyville until it was time to go home... “Sunset?” Celestia’s voice was gentle and uncertain. Sunset looked up at her, saw the monarch’s features softening to betray a flood of conflicting emotions. “Oh, child. After so many years, do you truly think I’ve been concerned about a few books?” “I…” Sunset blinked. “I really don’t know what to think,” she admitted. “The last time I was here, you were so angry. Especially at first. I mean, sure, you let me use the library with Twilight, and we even laughed a little. But everything was so awkward. So brittle. In the end I figured, okay, it’s better this way. You’ve got your world, and I’ve got mine.” She glanced over to her otherworldly twin. “And then, Sunrise messaged me…” “I had been shocked to see you, after so long” Celestia confessed. “I’d had no idea you were even in Equestria until Twilight walked in to present you, and I was struggling for control. And when you were so formal with me, I thought that meant that there was nothing between us anymore. In retrospect, I suppose I was a bit wooden, but…” “Well, in your defense, you did say you’d missed me. And you did kind of tell a joke later,” Sunset pointed out. “You at least tried to break the ice. I was just so freaked out. Not just about us, though that was a big part of it. But I never thought of the implications.” Celestia nodded. “I remember. There was a crisis. Time was of the essence.” “Yeah, but I should have come back sooner,” said Sunset. “I mean, I only came back that time because I needed something.” She looked away. “I can only imagine how that must have looked to you.” At that, the royal mask dissolved completely. “I thought you were just being polite,” Celestia said quietly. “That you must still hate me.” Sunset’s eyes went wide as she stared at Celestia, exclaiming. “No! I never hated you! I mean…” then she sighed. “I mean, okay, maybe I thought I did, but … look, I was in a really bad place when I first left. And, yeah, for a long while after. Years. I was so angry, I was toxic. I poisoned everything and everyone I touched.” “Yet, through such pain, you stayed away. Why?” Sunset closed her eyes. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” “No!” Celestia took another step downward towards her. “That wasn’t true, it was never true! A day never passed that I didn’t miss you!” “But how is that possible?” Sunset demanded, her agony surfacing at last. “You cast me out in the first place!” “Of my apprenticeship! And only for a time! And even then…” the monarch’s voice trailed off. “Even then, I was wrong. I called out to you as you ran, but it was too late. You didn’t hear me.” Sunset swallowed. “I heard you. I just didn’t believe it.” Celestia sighed. “Casting you from my tutelage was not my first mistake between us, but it was my greatest.” “Yeah, well, I made a few, too,” Sunset said. Then, looking behind her to the crowded chamber beyond, she added, “Um, is there a time when we could talk, a little bit more privately? I know you’re supposed to be holding court right now, and I should let you get back to that. But I really don’t want to leave things like this between us.” “Nor do I, dear one” Celestia agreed. “Whenever you are ready, I will make time for you.” “I don’t want to keep you from—” “No, Sunset,” Celestia cut her off. “I’ve had ample time to review my own regrets, and chief among them is that I never made enough time for you. Please, will you allow me this small effort, to make things right?” Luna considered this, her impassiveness vanishing like smoke. “Is now a good time?” she asked. “This instant, perhaps?” Princess Celestia’s head whipped around to look at her. “Wait, what?” Sunset also stared. “Uh…” she began. “We don’t have any plans,” her fiancé piped up. Then added, “Your Highnesses.” While Sunset gave the pegasus next to her a wide-eyed look that plainly said, what the hell are you doing?, Luna simply smiled, raising her voice to be clearly heard by all in the chamber beyond. “All in attendance are dismissed, all remaining hearings hereby postponed till the morrow,” she pronounced happily. As one, every armored pony in the room bowed, turned in unison, and filed out in perfect formation. Meanwhile, Raven curtsied and exited out the side door, humming contentedly to herself all the while. “And Sunrise,” Luna went on, “Do we not have a… thing?” Sunrise grinned. “Oh, we so have a thing. It’s in a place,” she confided. Luna gave a delighted gasp. “A place, how exciting! And this place, is it… else?” The grin widened. “Oh, it is so else. Hey, Twilights,” Sunrise raised her voice slightly. “You gals wanna come with us to a place that’s else?” Also sharing identical grins, purple alicorn and pegasus both trotted happily over to Sunrise, who, in turn, was heading for the massive double doors as Luna contentedly soared overhead. “I love places that are else!” said the human Twilight Sparkle. Princess Twilight’s grin grew even wider. “Oh, Equestria has the most else places!” A moment later, Sunset and Celestia were alone in the throne room. The doors closed with a gentle boom. There was what might or might not have been the sound of a makeshift bar being slid across the doors, locking them inside together. Then, all was quiet. Sunset opened her mouth for a moment, making a helpless gesture. “We have a lot of friends,” she finally said. Celestia chuckled as she approached. “Yes,” she said. “Yes we do.” There were a few moments of silence between them. Then, Celestia cleared her throat. “Well,” she said at last. “This isn’t awkward at all.” Sunset gave a rueful smile. “Nope. Not a bit.” Both of them sighed in unison. Finally, Celestia spoke. “I love you,” she said. Sunset stared at her. “I always did,” Celestia went on. “When I first took you in, I told myself I was up to the task. And then, the more I got to know you, the more I desperately wanted to be. I knew I was unqualified, of course. But I also knew that Luna and I had grown up with no one else to help us. So, I thought, how hard could it be? You were so bright, so inquisitive. It all seemed so simple. I would teach you magic, enroll you in classes…” Sunset winced. “Yeah, well. Maybe that would’ve worked if I’d been a better kid.” “No!” Eyes wide, Celestia grasped Sunset’s shoulder desperately. “No, that’s not what I meant at all! How could you have been to blame? You were a foal!” “Are you kidding? I was a walking disaster! Everyone knew it! And hell, at least you wanted to be around me! God knows nobody else did!” “That wasn’t your fault!” “Whose fault could it have been? Was it your temper that drove the other foals away? Your problems in school? Your strangeness that kept even the most shallow socialites at bay?” “I should have been there for you! I should have understood!” “Understood what? That I was a fucking freak show? “That you needed more time! That you learned differently than other foals! That you—” “’Learned differently?’” Sunset cried. “Do you know how often they told me how stupid I was?” “You were never—!” “PLEASE!” Sunset’s voice cracked as it echoed throughout the room. “PLEASE, JUST TELL ME YOU DIDN’T PUT TWILIGHT THROUGH THAT! SHOVING HER AT OTHER PONIES WHILE THEY CRINGED AND LOOKED AWAY! THE CLASSROOMS, AND THEIR DAMNED SARCASM! THE GALAS, ALWAYS ALONE WHILE THE OTHERS DANCED! THE WHISPERS! THE STARES!” Celestia’s head moved to the side as if slapped, her eyes squeezed shut. “No,” she said quietly. “I learned from my mistakes. Not soon enough to help you, but I did learn.” Tears streaking her muzzle, Sunset looked away as well. “I let Twilight grow at her own pace, in her own way. I let her be as insular as she chose. She never attended a gala until she was mostly grown, and then only from her own desire. “Cadence, too,” the princess went on. “I adopted her as my niece, the way I should have adopted you as my daughter. I kept her close, but only because she wanted to be close. I let her finish growing as she needed, though in truth she was already mostly grown.” Uncertainly, Sunset took a step forward. Her voice was quiet, less than a whisper, her tears still fresh. “Why didn’t you?” As soon as she’d asked the question, Sunset again became keenly aware of the bars on the great doors. It occurred to her that she could blast them out of her way, if she needed to. It had been a long time, but destruction had always been easy. Escape was only a thought and a flicker of will away. But Celestia was already speaking. “Because I was a fool,” she said. After a moment’s silence, the princess spoke again, her soft voice full of regret. “Please understand, it wasn’t an immediate decision, or an easy one. I knew that I knew nothing about motherhood, that I was unqualified. Yet, there wasn’t anyone else who could deal with the raw magical power you possessed, even as a weanling. I’d tried to find somepony suitable, someone who would know what to do. Had Luna not been in exile, the answer would have been easy. As it was, there was no one. As unqualified as I was, I knew I was the best you were going to get. “And then, I saw you. So tiny. So beautiful. So full of love and exploration. I took you in, took you home. You slept next to me that night, and woke me early the next morning with your cries. “Until I’d met you, I had never wanted a child. And yet, over the course of just a few days, I found myself wanting nothing more. “So, I told myself that I would be good enough. And, for a short time, it seemed as though I was. “Then, one night, while you were asleep, I did something I hadn’t dared to do for centuries. I cast my senses towards Luna, re-examining what I could see of her patterns. You had been with me only a little while, but somehow, I had begun to feel hope again. It had been so long, I had almost forgotten how. “And so, I was looking for something, anything that might give me some reason to go on hoping. To see the future as something other than a chain and scaffold.” She sighed, then went on, “That night, I saw a potential event, blazing through my sister’s synchronicities like an unborn star. It was a concurrence between her and somepony else, yielding a magnificent breakthrough of potentials in her life. “Somepony whose pattern... was very much like yours.” While Sunset stared, Celestia went on, “It wasn’t a certainty, of course. Far from it. But it was a possibility. One she had oft longed for in our youth, and had long ago given up on finding. One that plainly would fill your heart with joy, as well. Even as a foal, you’d always wanted to reach out, to connect. And you had always loved the night. “And I was afraid that if we – and therefore you and she – were family, it would snuff out that rare potential. So, I determined to keep you as my ward from that night on.” Sunset blinked. “You thought… Luna and I…?” Celestia sighed. “I wanted you to be happy.” She forced herself to face Sunset again, her own voice cracking as she added, “And if the two ponies that I loved most could find happiness with one another, then I thought I had an obligation to see that nothing I did would bar your path. “So, I turned away from motherhood, in the hope that one day we might be sisters. “And, so... I failed you.” Sunset shook her head. “No. No, that’s not fair.” Celestia gave her a sad smile. “How is it not fair? You came to me as a foal, to learn and grow under my tutelage. There is no greater trust than that. Yet, somehow, I never taught you the things that mattered most. The strength of compassion. The value of friendship. Your own worth. “I should have embraced you, in every way possible, and left the future to weave itself. And instead, I kept you at a distance, despite both our desires. Ultimately, whatever you have accomplished, whatever you have become, it was despite my influence. Not because of it.” “But that’s not just on you!” Sunset insisted. “There was so much else going on! There was school, my anger, my powers, my own social… thing… everything. It wasn’t until I got to the human world that I found out what learning disabilities even were! How were you to know about that, or guess that I’d fall for you instead of Luna, or… or…” Her voice trailed off as Celestia stared at her. “You… didn’t... know about that, did you,” Sunset said. Celestia shook her head slowly. “Wow.” Sunset sat where she was. “Wow. That… really puts things into a different perspective.” “Yes,” Celestia agreed. Her voice was a little unsteady as she added, “Yes, it does.” Then her eyes widened. “The day you got your cutie mark!” Sunset squeezed her eyes closed. “Yeah.” “Never before had another pony come so close to raising the sun. And at thirteen! I was amazed beyond words. But instead of being pleased, you were so angry, so bitterly disappointed! No matter what I said, you were inconsolable.” Her voice became hushed. “But, it was never about magic, or your mark…” “…it was about being with you,” Sunset finished for her softly. “Yeah. I... I thought, if I could do that, if I could just take on part of your duties over the sun and moon. You know, share the heavy lifting. So you wouldn’t have to always be so tired, so alone. Then, we could be…” Her voice trailed off again. Celestia sat, as well. “I’ve been blind,” she said. Sunset went on in a whisper, “It was almost a year later when I finally found the alicorn papyrus. And when I read about the qualities of a princess. I thought...” She swallowed. “I thought that meant that I was unworthy. That you’d decided, probably years ago, that I just wasn’t good enough for you. I cried myself to sleep that night. I’d never felt so hurt. So emptied out.” Then, looking back again to her former mentor. “But… you’d never rejected me. You just didn’t know.” Celestia nodded with growing understanding. “And so your plan to use the Element of Magic, to awaken it and use it to force the Alicorn’s Becoming upon yourself…” “Yeah.” Sunset sighed. “That was the next day. And then, when you… well…” She swallowed. “That’s when I left.” Again, silence. Sunset sighed. “I was so fucked up. I didn’t want you as a mom, because, you know… but at the same time, I kinda did, because holy crap, I really needed one. But mostly, I wanted you to love me enough that I could be with you. I would have done anything for you. I just wanted to be there, beside you. But I couldn’t. “And then, at the end... I thought you’d thrown me away.” Celestia shook her head. “Never.” Sunset pressed her face into her hoof. “Christ, I’m a fucking moron.” Celestia’s voice became desperate, almost pleading. “No! No, you’re not! And you never were, you were a foal! You must stop looking at your past with such contempt! We both made mistakes, yes... but I was the adult, not you!” Celestia sighed then, adding, “I don’t know how many times I have wished to all the heavens that I had done things differently.” Sunset managed a rueful smile. “Well, we can’t go back.” “No.” “But, um, maybe…” Sunset took a deep breath, and made herself take the plunge. “Care to go forward?” she asked. Celestia blinked, then smiled. “Yes. I’d like that very much.” There was a pause, and then they hugged fiercely. Sunset nuzzled into Celestia’s mane. “I always loved you,” she said. “And I, you.” “I think that’s why I got so mad at you,” Sunset sighed. “I even thought I hated you, for a while.” “So many times I should have been there for you, and I tried, I swear I tried…” Sunset took an uneven breath. “I know that now, I do, but it’s all so mixed-up! Every time I think I’ve got it figured out…” “I’d never been incompetent at anything before.” Parting from her slightly, Celestia brushed some of Sunset’s mane away from her eyes. “By the time I realized I’d found something I was terrible at, it was too late.” Sunset raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Now who’s looking back in contempt?” Celestia looked at Sunset’s wry expression, and chuckled. “Alright, I suppose that’s reasonable.” She took a moment, drinking in the sight of her errant former student, her face showing a blend of love… and something else, something completely unfamiliar. Something which Sunset realized she had long ago stopped expecting to see in her former mentor’s eyes, or even hoping for. Pride. “You have grown into a formidable young lady, indeed. And with a wisdom hard-won,” Celestia said at last. Then she sighed, her smile becoming sad. “Would that I had been wiser in raising you.” “Look, will you stop? I mean, sure, mistakes were made… but like I said, it wasn’t just you. It was me, it was this place… it was everything.” Sunset shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I had to go. Maybe, even if everything had been perfect, I would still have left.” Celestia cocked her head slightly. “And are you happy, in your new world?” Going back down to all fours, Sunset blushed slightly. “Yeah. I am. It took a while, and a lot of lumps, but… yeah.” “And the otherworldly Twilight is part of your happiness?” The blush deepened. “Yeah. A big part.” Her mentor smiled as they began walking together. “Then I am happy, too.” Favoring the young mare with an amused look, she went on, “And I will try to look back without regret, since my errors drove you to your happiness.” Sunset gave her a mischievous glance. “Oh, well, you know. You could still have a few regrets.” “Oh?” “Well, you know. I remember one time in particular, being kept in house arrest for a week. You even warded the door to my room, so I couldn’t leave. And completely without cause, might I add…” Celestia’s eyebrows rose. “‘Without cause?’ Sunset, you choked the colt out.” Sunset’s expression was indignant. “He tore my book!” “And by the time the teacher separated you, his lips were turning blue—” A dismissive wave. “Oh, he was blue anyway!” Both mares laughed as they approached the great double doors. Then, Sunset hesitated. At Celestia’s curious look, she said, “Um… Twilight – my Twilight – said she was wanting to meet my mom. I wasn’t going to introduce you that way because I wasn’t sure you’d be cool with it…?” “Be sure,” Celestia smiled. “At least, I am if you are.” “Yeah,” Sunset smiled back. “I am.” They looked at one another fondly. Then Sunset grinned. “That being said, you should probably never see some of the pictures I drew of you.” “You’re probably right.” Again, they shared their laughter. There was a final embrace, then the great doors opened in a glow of gold, the bar that had held them fast gliding gently to the side of the outer hall in an aura of cyan. The twin rows of palace guards were still at attention, the courtiers long since dispersed. Towards the far end of the great hall, the pegasus Twilight was happily chatting away with Sunrise, Luna and Princess Twilight. At the sound of the door opening, they turned to see Celestia and Sunset emerge. Seeing their smiles, the four mares relaxed a bit, and trotted to join them. Still a little unsteady on two hooves, the human-born Twilight settled for nuzzling Sunset. “Everything okay?” she asked gently. Sunset nodded. “Yeah. We’ve still got some baggage, but I think I’ll be coming by more often, so we’ll sort it out.” Sunrise smiled. “Good. I’ve got a new sister and a sister-in-law to get to know better.” “Well, future sister-in-law, technically,” the pegasus corrected her. Sunrise gave a good-natured shrug. “Whatever.” “Meanwhile,” Sunset broke in, “If I could make some overdue introductions? Celestia, this is my fiancé, Twilight Sparkle. Twilight, this is my mom, Celestia.” The instant of pleasure Twilight felt suddenly gave way to panic as she realized she had no idea how to bow on four hooves. She’d meant to ask about this first, maybe have time to practice, but everything had happened so fast! Now that she was here, was she going to embarrass Sunset in front of everybody? Plus, wings! What do ponies do with wings? With bowing? How do you wingbow? Do you spread them like a curtsey? Keep them tucked in? Oh, God! Why hadn’t she researched this beforehand?!? Desperately trying to keep calm, Twilight thought quickly. It made sense that even a bad genuflection would be better than none at all. Okay. Fine. She could do that. But as she started lowering herself as best she could, a gentle wing touched her chin, stopping her. She looked up, and saw the Sun Princess was smiling down at her fondly. “No need for that, my dear,” Celestia said. “Family needs never bow.” 5. Transition.. It was a nice night out. Still hot, of course. But the late night breeze felt wonderful along her coat, and played with her mane a little as it went by. Sunrise Shimmer smiled as she closed her eyes, basking in the moment. The pegasi who planned out the weather had certainly made the last few days great for flying, as the human Twilight had noted. Meanwhile, the nights had been great for long walks. Or, as in her case, just hanging out on a crystal balcony, thinking. She looked out at the shadows of the clouds above, drifting gently. Of course, with most of the weather control being done in Cloudsdale, the butterfly effect would demand that what pegasi did here dictated the rest of the world’s meteorology. She wondered for a moment if that was part of the Weather Bureau’s job, accounting for all that. And did they make their calculations by some magical scrying process, or did they use some kind of hyper-advanced mathematics? Or, maybe, did the ponies not worry about it at all, and just let the rest of the world fend for itself? Sunrise snorted. Yeah, like Luna and Celestia would stand for that. Granted, they probably hadn’t bothered, back in the First Era when Discord had just fallen. That would account for some of the wastelands she’d read about. And maybe some of the modern-day resentment Equestria still suffered from faraway lands. But they also wouldn’t have known back then, either. Besides, if the pegasi weren’t concerned with their weather affecting the rest of the world, why did Equstria have bad weather days at all? Best to ask Rainbow Dash about it, she decided. She’d been wanting to get to know Twilight’s other friends better, anyway. Behind her, a door opened, and a familiar set of hoofsteps stopped halfway through. “Sorry,” Sunset said. “No, you’re cool.” “You sure?” “Uh-huh.” The door closed, and a few seconds later Sunset stood beside her, both of them looking out at the sky, their forelegs crossed on the balcony’s ornate railing. After a few awkward moments, they both sighed in unison. “This is easier with other ponies around,” Sunrise said. “Yeah.” More silence. Finally, Sunrise spoke again. “How’s she doing?” Sunset stole a cautious glance at the human-born mare. “Asleep,” she said. Sunrise’s voice was quiet. “You know what I mean.” Sunset sighed again, then spoke out into the nighttime air. “There’s still intestinal scarring,” she admitted. “She’s supposed to stay on a low-fiber diet, and that keeps the pain down. But every now and then, like tonight, she cheats.” With a helpless shrug, Sunset went on, “Of course, on this side of the mirror, she doesn’t have too many options. We didn’t think about that before we came over. She was sure paying for it before bed tonight.” Sunrise’s voice was strained as she asked, “Is there anything that can be done?” “She’s got surgery in a couple of months. That might help. Granted, there’s always risk of that same surgery causing abdominal adhesion, which lands us right back where we were. But she’s done more research than I have, and she figures the odds are good.” While Sunset had been speaking, Sunrise had lowered her head, chin resting on her crossed arms. Now she remained thus, motionless, her entire body taut as piano wire. After several moments of silence, Sunset spoke. “Sunrise?” When her twin remained still, Sunset gently reached out to her, only to have the other mare flinch away. “I’m sorry,” Sunset said. “But you did ask. Are… you going to be okay?” Sunrise gave a noncommittal shrug. “Sunrise?” Silence. “Hey... are we still cool?” Sunrise gave a bitter laugh that stabbed into her. “Yeah, we’re still cool,” Sunrise said, still turned away. “You could shoot me in the face and we’d still be cool.” “Yeah, but I… oh, God dammit,” Sunset sighed, running a hoof through her mane. “Look, I really want to say something comforting…” “…but there isn’t anything to say,” Sunrise finished for her. “Yeah, I get that. I mean, what are you supposed to say? That it wasn’t my fault? That you don’t blame me?” “Yeah, well,” Sunset admitted. “So far we’ve been pretty straight with each other.” “No sense lying now,” Sunrise agreed. “Right. But remember, Twilight’s forgiven you. She forgave you back before you left.” Silence. “And so did I.” Slowly, Sunrise raised her head, staring into the dark clouds above. When she spoke, her eyes were dry, her voice was clear and controlled, betraying genuine confusion. “How can you be like this?” Sunset opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. “You should hate me,” Sunrise went on. “God knows you’ve got every right.” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. How can you just stand there and say it’s okay?” “No, it’s not okay. That’s not what I’m saying,” Sunset said. She put her hoof on Sunrise’s shoulder, and this time the other mare did not flinch away. “We’re all, all three of us, still coping with everything that’s happened. And you and I are both coping with what we’ve done. But that doesn’t mean…” Then she stopped, studying her otherworldly counterpart with renewed understanding. “That’s right,” she whispered. “You weren’t born here. I almost forgot.” At last, Sunrise turned to face her, brow creased with confusion. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “It’s complicated,” Sunset said. “And it’s really not my place to, I mean... it’s...” She made a frustrated noise, then grabbed Sunrise by the shoulders. “Look,” she said, “just promise me you’ll still be here tomorrow! Okay?” “What?” Then, looking at Sunset’s intense expression, Sunrise nodded in bewilderment. “Yeah. I promise,” she said. Sunset released her. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “Confused as hell, but I’ll be here.” Sunset gave a slight smile. “Yeah, well. Welcome to Ponyville.” Sunrise’s mouth quirked a little, as well. “Yeah. I got that, actually.” After a moment, Sunset asked, “So. See you at breakfast?” “I don’t know. I might be up for a while.” “Sure.” As Sunset turned to leave, Sunrise said, “Hey, Sunny?” Sunset turned to face Sunrise again. The other mare was smiling now, though her eyes were still sad. “Thanks for not sugar-coating it,” Sunrise said. Returning the smile, Sunset winked. “Not my style,” she said. Sunrise gave herself a few minutes after Sunset had left. Then she concentrated, focusing her thoughts outward as best she could. Hey, Honey? There was the briefest of pauses, and Sunrise felt herself enveloped in the invisible warmth of her marefriend’s thoughts. **Yes, Dear Heart?** There was a contemplative pause, and then, **Something saddens thee, I think?** Yeah. It’s nothing new, but I’m going to be chewing on it for a while. I hate to say this, but I don’t think I’m going to be up for dating tonight. **I understand.** Sorry. **Nay, my love. Truly, I understand well the need for solitude. Take whatever time thou needs. I ask only that thou tells me if there is some way that I might help.** Sunrise smiled, her heart lightening despite its burdens. I will. Love you. **And I thee.** There was another moment of warmth, as though wings formed from the summer shadows held her in their gentle embrace. Then the connection faded, leaving Sunrise alone in the soothing darkness of night. 6: Childhood.. It turned out that Cadence was not, in fact, the Princess of Music. Or the Princess of Order, which would have been Sunrise’s second guess. And when Twilight had first told Sunrise what her title (Portfolio? Area of Influence?) was, Sunrise had certainly been puzzled. So, Twilight had told her about being foal-sat by her, a little of her public history, and even a brief version of her wedding to Shining Armor and the misadventure surrounding it. (“So, you’re saying the wedding march ended with a false Cadence?” Sunrise had quipped. Twilight had given her a puzzled look. “I suppose. Why?” “Nothing,” Sunrise had grinned. “Do go on.”) Now, it was the late afternoon, and the train was pulling into the station in a cloud of steam and the squealing of steel on steel. Princess Celestia had written to Cadence that Sunset had come back, and the other monarch had immediately arranged to travel to Ponyville to meet her. Which, to Sunrise, had seemed a bit of an overreaction. Sunset, wide-eyed, had emphatically agreed. Twilight Sparkle, for her part, was simply puzzled. “I still don’t understand,” the pegasus said as the train rolled to a stop. “Isn’t she a queen in her own kingdom? I’m not complaining, but how can she just drop her duties like this?” “Cadence and her husband are co-regents,” Celestia assured her. “Shining Armor is quite capable of covering for her for a few days. Just as she covers for him, on occasion.” “Which, of course, usually means only getting to see them one at a time,” Princess Twilight admitted. “And then, only briefly. Except when I go to visit them, of course.” She paused, adding, “Which I really need to do again sometime, actually.” Just then, the train doors opened, allowing a small flood of ponies to spill out onto the wooden platform. There was the inevitable gasping and bowing, of course, the crowd giving the royal party a wide berth out of respect. Celestia sighed as she smiled, waved, and nodded at the various passers-by. “I don’t know what I was thinking, meeting her in public. I really should have waited at the palace.” “Don’t worry about it,” Twilight said under her breath, also smiling and waving. “They’d still be doing it if it was just me. Just not quite so much.” Celestia’s royal smile remained unwavering. “Really? I had thought you’d managed to maintain a certain informality in your station.” Twilight’s smile became strained as they both continued waving and nodding. “Only in Ponyville,” she replied. Most of the disembarking ponies, it seemed, were indeed from out of town. They showed every sign of being quite overtaken by the presence of so much royalty in such a simple setting. At last, after the cars had emptied, a single figure emerged. Her baggage gently floating in a blue aura behind her, the pink alicorn walked to Celestia. Without a word, they embraced warmly. Then, Celestia turned to Sunset. “Cadence, this is my daughter, Sunset Shimmer. Sunset, this is my niece, Cadence.” “I am so happy to meet you at last,” Cadence said. Sunset winced. “You… heard of me, huh?” But Cadence smiled at her warmly. “No. Not until last night, and even then not much. Celestia has always respected your privacy. But I could always see there was a hole in her heart. And now, I get to see it filled at last, the young mare she loves so much having come back into her life.” Her smile grew. “You can’t know how happy that makes me.” Sunset smiled back at her, and the two of them embraced. Celestia looked on happily at both her former charges, and Princess Twilight beamed. Human-born Twilight smiled as well, delighted at her fiancé’s newfound happiness. From around them, scattered applause sprang forth from the crowd, and even the engineer looked back at the royal party with a smile. Meanwhile, birds flew a little lower, singing happily as the two broke apart again. For her part, Sunrise observed the scene, looking around herself with quiet appreciation. The sunlight seemed just a little brighter, the breeze just a little more fragrant. And all the ponies around them – friends, family, even strangers – seemed just a little closer to one another than they had been before. Herself included. So, Sunrise thought. This is the Princess of Love. . A short time later they were all in the Castle of Friendship, enjoying tea and cake together. After some cajoling, Spike had agreed to join them, happily sprinkling bits of ruby onto his cake and pouring immense amounts of sugar into his tea. The stream of conversation meandered, split and reunited again, and occasionally dissolved into friendly laughter. Eventually, the discussion turned to Equestrian history. And, inevitably... “Well, Star Swirl the Bearded is the ultimate high bar for unicorn magic, of course,” Princess Twilight observed. “Until recently perhaps,” Celestia nodded with a smile. “I do believe he has some competition in modern times.” One of Princess Twilight’s ears went flat. “Really? Who?” “Of course, each of the Pillars was the high water mark for their own Element,” Sunset said. “Indeed,” Luna nodded. “One would be hard pressed to find such ponies again, even a thousand years later.” “Wait, who?” the human Twilight asked. “Excuse my butting in, but... who were the Pillars? Were they rulers? Heroes?” “Champions,” said Celestia. “And stalwart friends.” “Especially Star Swirl,” Luna added. “First a pupil, then a mentor. But always a friend.” Yet there was a melancholy that seemed to have overtaken both the sisters. “I’m sorry,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Did I say something wrong?” “No, dear one,” Celestia said. “It’s just that, though the Pillars were wise and valiant, their tale ends in terrible tragedy.” Luna took another sip. “Time has blunted the pain, in a sense,” she said. “But one never stops mourning dear friends, even as one never stops celebrating their lives.” Celestia sighed. “Rockhoof. Mistmane.” “Somnambula. Meadowbrook,” Luna added quietly. “Flash Magnus.” “Star Swirl.” As one, the sisters drank, then put their cups down, contemplating the leaves within. “Stygian,” they said. For a moment, the room was silent. Then, Luna glanced at Sunrise. “You seem confused, dear one,” she said. “Um.” Sunrise looked at her uncertainly. “Well, a little, yeah. But I don’t want to intrude...” As one, the sisters shook off the melancholy of centuries. “It’s no intrusion,” Celestia said. “You sure?” Both sisters nodded. “Please,” Luna said. “ask.” “Well, okay...” Sunrise ran a hoof along her stripe of a mane, then said, “It’s just, well, I had thought there were only six elements. Even then.” Princess Twilight poured them all some more tea. “Well, technically, yes. But remember that Stygian wasn’t exactly one of the Pillars.” “Oh. Well, who was he then?” Silence. Aside from Sunset and her fiancé, every pair of eyes was staring at Sunrise, completely thunderstruck. For her part, Sunrise was feeling more and more like she had just desecrated a shrine with every second. Finally, Princess Twilight found her voice. “Are you... serious?” Sunset looked at the youngest princess. “Twilight, my world doesn’t have a Stygian’s Lament. Or his story. Nothing even close.” Princess Twilight stared between the two otherworldly twins, realization dawning, even as the other princesses exchanged looks of shock. “Oh,” she managed quietly. “Oh, my gosh.” Sunset nodded. “Yeah.” Meanwhile, Sunrise and Twilight looked from Princess Twilight to Sunset and back, their confusion growing. Finally, Sunrise asked, “Okay... Is it cool if somepony clues me in, here?” Sunset looked at the youngest alicorn. “Traditionally, it’s really more Twilight’s place to tell you about this.” The Princess of Friendship nodded. “Yeah. I had thought we’d talk about this later, but you’re right, this can’t wait.” She turned to her student, saying, “Sunrise, would you come with me, please?” Sunrise looked around, then back to her mentor. “You mean right… now?” “Please.” “Yyyeah, okay,” Sunrise blinked. “Sure.” She followed her mentor, giving the pegasus Twilight a shrug of helpless confusion. Once the door closed behind them, Twilight Sparkle turned to the ponies around her. “So, is this something I’m permitted to know?” “Of course,” said Cadence, taking another sip. “Especially in light of your interest in Equestrian culture.” Celestia looked to her daughter. ”Sunset, would you care to do the honors?” Sunset nodded. “Sure.” She set her own cup down, levitated a small sandwich closer. “Okay, to put this in context, you have to understand: the ponies this concerns, talking about them is kind of like talking about the crew of the Argos… only if they were all verifiable historical figures. Literally the six greatest heroes of the world – wizards, warriors, and healers – all teamed up in one group. Now, picture if they’d been led by Merlin, instead of Jason.” Twilight nodded. “Okay, impressive so far.” “Right. Now, imagine if instead of stealing a magical artifact, they were repeatedly defending their world from unspeakable dangers. Their efforts literally saved the known world multiple times. They also helped shape pony society, and established or strengthened many of the political ties between ponies and other speaking folk that still exist today.” The pegasus frowned. “Okay. And, Stygian was one of them?” Sunset shook her head. “Not exactly. You see…” . Sunrise followed Twilight back into the sanctum, feeling more uneasy with each step. This was some kind of lesson, obviously, but that didn’t explain why Twilight seemed so grim. Nor did it explain why Twilight closed the doors behind them with magic, and barred them. Yeah, Sunrise thought. Not good. “Um, Twilight? What’s going on?” “You’ve read about the Pillars of Old Equestria, of course,” Twilight said. Sunrise frowned. “You know I have.” “Well, you’ve only read the basics. Their great deeds, Star Swirl’s power and brilliance, et cetera. And that’s my fault, I only gave you a basic starting itinerary. And Stygian wasn’t in those books.” “So, was he an enemy of theirs? I never found out what happened to them, at the end…” “No, it wasn’t anything like that. He was their friend.” “And? What happened?” “It’s… not an easy story to tell,” Twilight admitted. “Especially when you’ve spent as long researching Star Swirl’s work and life as I have. He was brilliant, dedicated, a master magician in every way…” Then, she sighed. “…except for this,” she finished. . “Stygian was a scholar,” Twilight explained. “A master of lore, a brilliant researcher, and a battle tactician. It was Stygian who first recognized the need for the Pillars to unite, and it was Stygian who brought them together into an unstoppable team. “But he wasn’t a fighter, or a magician. Although he was a unicorn, even the most rudimentary telekinesis was almost impossible for him. And he wasn’t physically strong, despite Rockhoof’s best attempts to help him train. All he had was his mind. “That being said, his mind was incredibly powerful. Some sources claim he had a memory comparable to that of Princess Celestia’s, though there’s no way that’s anything but exaggeration. But he did have an ability to correlate ideas and create new ones that put even Star Swirl’s brilliance to shame. He was also a mathematician and architect, and could speak several languages fluently. It was Stygian who introduced the Pillars to other cultures, and smoothed over conflicts as they traveled the world. He was even a good writer, and a fair poet. “But his body was too frail to actually go into battle. He wouldn’t have survived. And like I said, though he could research and advise on any spell of his time – second only to Star Swirl, of course – he couldn’t cast them. Star Swirl referred to his situation once as a cruel joke the universe had played at Stygian’s expense. He could give counsel, and put together plans that saved the day countless times… but only from the shadows.” Sunrise considered this. “Hm. Did he name himself, or was he given that name at birth?” “The records don’t say. But they do state how, as the fame of the Pillars grew, they started ignoring his advice. Sometimes with bad results. And even when it seemed to go alright… well, ask Sunset to tell you about the sirens sometime. Stygian wanted the Pillars to talk with them, and even offered to negotiate with them himself. He was ignored. Instead, Star Swirl used a spell that he’d created to banish them to Sunset’s world. “According to Star Swirl, that’s when Stygian probably started his own secret research, away from the Pillars.” Twilight sighed. “They were so caught up in everything else, they didn’t even notice him becoming more distant, spending more time apart from them. Later, when he stopped traveling with them, they took the news with a sigh of relief. In his last journal entries Star Swirl even notes how, in hindsight, he’d partially pushed Stygian into his later actions, by discounting his contributions and neglecting their friendship.” Sunrise stared. “His last journal entries? Holy crap. Did Stygian… kill them?” But Twilight shook her head. “No. He didn’t. But they caught him, months later, trying to steal personal artifacts of power from them. “And so, they… repudiated him. They banished him from their number. Star Swirl goes into some detail about what was said, and by whom. And in hindsight, it was pretty cruel. Granted, they thought their friend had betrayed them, and was stealing their possessions so he could steal their abilities. She gave a helpless shrug. “And theoretically, he could have. Sorcery or not, the stallion was brilliant. But they also should have known better.” “So, he hadn’t betrayed them,” Sunrise said. “And they still turned him out. Damn, that’s horrible. So, what was he trying to do, then? Do we know?” “Yeah,” the princess said sadly. “He told them.” . It was a fine full moon above the Pillars’ camp as they celebrated their latest victory in the refreshing autumn breeze. The dragon had been strong, especially for her age. But she had also been arrogant, and they had easily brought her down. Even Stygian’s shadow was slender as it fell across their camp from the cliffside above, the harvester’s moon bright behind him. His scholar’s cape rippled slightly in the wind, his short mane in greater than usual disarray. The six heroes glanced up at the interruption, then fell silent, their eyes narrowing into identical expressions of distrust. “What dost thou want here, Stygian?” Star Swirl demanded, spitting the other stallion’s name like a curse. The small stallion looked down on them all, his face shrouded in shadow. His voice low and strained. “I came to say I’m sorry,” he said. Features softening, Mistmane took a step forward. Star Swirl, still scowling, held out an arm to stop the elderly mare. “’Tis a trap,” he said. But Stygian shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “No trap. I know I cannot be forgiven. But I had to try.” His voice became weak as he continued, “To… to atone.” “Atone?” Somnambula demanded. “For betraying us?” “For trying to steal our ability to help others?” Meadowbrook snapped. “For thy weakness of heart?” Rockhoof frowned. “Thy cowardice?” Flash Magnus snarled. “Stygian” Mistmane said, “I want to believe thee. But, how can we trust thee now? Or ever again?” “You can’t, of course,” Stygian nodded sadly. “I understand that.” He coughed slightly, then wiped something from his mouth. “There are some transgressors who cannot be forgiven,” he went on. “Who have placed themselves beyond trust or redemption. Even as I have done. Yet, I had hoped—” He was cut off by a sudden, terrible fit of coughs that wracked his body. Losing his balance, still coughing, Stygian fell, rolling down the cliff side. With a cry, Meadowbrook ran to him, meeting him even as he came to rest at the cliff’s base. The others, even Star Swirl, were close behind her. The healer caught him as he came to rest, cradling his head in her lap. The blood on the small pony’s face was plain to see now, as was the blood on his hoof where he had wiped it away. In the silvery moonlight, it seemed almost black. “I had hoped…” his voice trailed off. Then he shuddered, and was still. Meadowbrook looked to Starswirl, eyes full of tears. She opened her mouth to speak, when a radiance began to glow from within Stygian’s body, illuminating the campsite. “Look out!” Star Swirl reflexively threw up a series of defenses, encasing each of the Pillars in a mystic shield of silver, proof against any magical attack. But there was no attack. Stygian’s body shimmered, dissolved, then burst into a rainbow of tiny luminescent spheres. They swirled for an instant around where he had been, then, as if carried by unfelt winds, scattered in all directions. All, save for six, which drifted effortlessly through Star Swirl’s protections and into the hearts of each pony there. Star Swirl could hear Stygian’s words clearly. Gentle and soft, he could have heard them over a thunderclap. I’m sorry I stole thy book, Stygian’s voice echoed from within the magician’s heart. It was foolish, and wrong. I never wanted to take thy power away from thee. Only to understand it better, to copy it, to emulate what had allowed thee to help so many others. I’m sorry I never told thee how much thy friendship meant to me. All I ever wanted was to stand with thee, to fight by thy side. I admired you all so much. And in my desperation, I drove you away. I’m so sorry. Then, the glow faded into nothingness, Stygian’s voice silenced forever. Stricken, Star Swirl looked up at his companions. Their eyes mirrored his own anguish, his own horror. The rest of the night was spent in silence. There was nothing left to say. . “…and that was the first casting of Stygian’s Lament,” Twilight finished. Sunrise stared at her mentor. “God… damn.” Twilight nodded. “The Pillars drifted apart after that. Their camaraderie had already been broken, really, through their dismissal of Stygian’s efforts. But his death was the final straw. Their hearts just weren’t in it, anymore. For most of them, their final fates remain unknown.” “But not Star Swirl,” Sunrise prompted. Twilight gave a weak smile. “No,” she said. “Not Star Swirl. “At first, Star Swirl went out of his way to make certain that the truth about Stygian was known. After he destroyed all the notes on the spell, of course. He wanted to make things right, or at least as right as he could. So he traveled across Equestria, telling the story of his dead friend and how he had failed him. He hoped that maybe somepony else would learn from his mistakes, and not repeat them. “But Star Swirl had underestimated how easy it could be to re-create the spell, once there was a detailed description of the effects. After all: for him, all magic was easy. He didn’t realize his mistake until he started hearing stories about other ponies, dying in the same way. Especially ponies in their teens. And most of all, he heard about the heartache they left behind. “Star Swirl realized that he had not only made a terrible mistake, but instead of fixing it had compounded it further. He also realized that, once that knowledge was loose, there was nothing he could do to restrain it. Left unchecked, Stygian’s Lament would become a tradition among ponykind, a ritualized magical suicide. In fact, it had already started to. “So, Star Swirl met with Celestia and Luna one final time. They had tea together… and then, he stepped through one of his mirrors, never to be seen again. But as he stepped through, he asked them to intervene in the matter of Stygian’s Lament. Not as his mentors or his students, or even as his friends, but as the diarchs of Equestria. “And, they did. Neither Luna nor Celestia is much into giving royal decrees. But the following day, in unison, they gave two. “The first was a forbiddance of all research into Stygian’s Lament, no matter the cause or reason. Any who tried - no matter their age or circumstance - were to be immediately brought before Princess Luna for judgement, regardless of the hour.” Sunrise smiled a little. “Yeah, that sounds a lot like ‘Let’s get these kids some counseling.’” “In a lot of cases, I’m sure it was. But the second decree was a mandate to establish a new tradition of their own. A tradition in which the story of Stygian’s Lament is shared as part of a teaching lesson for every foal, everywhere. And that tradition has continued, from that day to this.” “So, is that why forgiveness is such a big deal around here?” Sunrise asked. “The fear of suicide?” Twilight shook her head. “No, it’s not that. Celestia and Luna have always ruled with an emphasis on compassion, forgiveness, and understanding. The problem is the circumstances under which Stygian’s Lament is cast. And that, well, it’s such a simple spell in the first place.” Sunrise looked at her incredulously. “Simple? With those kinds of results?” Twilight nodded. “Sir James Friesian’s Law of Sympathy demands that the regrets binding the caster with other ponies would be drawn to them, once the caster no longer existed. The intensity of each emotional connection would guarantee it. Like a bunch of rubber bands stretched from a center point, and then let go, to snap outwards in a radius. “And the spell automatically devours the caster – using up their net potential energy to create the spheres of light that carry those regrets through the Law of Contagion – because of the emotional content of the casting itself.” She shuddered. “You could almost call it a natural process, if it weren’t so horrific.” Sunrise frowned. “But, wouldn’t it be hard to cast, then? The energy involved, I mean, you’re converting matter and life force into—” But Twilight shook her head. “Think of it as a kind of critical mass, like in the doomsday weapons where you come from. The energy source to start the process is specific, and you do need a tremendous amount of it. But once that source is in place, it only needs a spark of will and knowledge to start it off. And once started, it’s a chain reaction. It just carries on until it runs itself out.” “Okay, so… what’s the energy source?” “Remember how we’ve been talking about the relationship between emotion and magic?” “Uh-huh.” “So, tell me something about that.” Sunrise closed her eyes. “Magic is a question of will, but not of will alone,” she recited. “The greater the knowledge, the more powerful the magician. The greater the passion, the stronger the spell. Passion is the light, knowledge the lens that directs and focuses that light. Yet all of this is only possible through the magician’s will.” Twilight cocked her head. “Who said that?” “Canterus Agrippa,” Sunrise smiled. “I probably misquoted him, though.” “Not a work I’m familiar with. From Sunset’s world?” “Yeah.” Twilight nodded with approval, her face still serious. “I’ll need to ask Sunset about him. It’ll be interesting comparing the stuff you’ve read to the works of his counterpart here. Still, whether you misquoted him or not, you’re right. So, logically, what emotion would simultaneously set the stage for a spell like this, and fuel it?” Sunrise thought for a moment, then paled. “Despair,” she said. “Absolute, crippling, self-devouring despair.” “Yeah,” Twilight said, quietly. “Exactly.” . “Despair is one of the only two emotions that have no positive application in magic… the other being, of course, hatred,” Twilight went on. “Neither hatred nor despair have any place in beneficial magic. “But despair is more dangerous than hatred, because it sneaks up on you. It skews your perceptions without you realizing it until it’s too late. The more powerful the despair, the more overpowering the shift in perceptions, and the greater the emotional power available. Which means that by the time a pony is in a state of mind to actually cast Stygian’s Lament – in whatever form – they’ve already got everything they need to do it.” Twilight shrugged. “Technically, you also need some basic metaphysical theory to re-create the spell. But, we’re talking grade school stuff. Nothing more. “And like I said, you don’t need to be a unicorn to cast the spell,” Twilight continued sadly. “It’s too basic, too elemental. Every pony has magic within them, more than most creatures across the world. Pegasi fly and walk on clouds, and influence the weather. Earth ponies have their special relationship with life and the earth. And yes, unicorns have sorcery. But anypony can tap into their own inner magic. Which means that anypony can destroy themselves. Because, while the emotion and focus start the process, it’s the pony’s very life force that is ultimately consumed by the spell. Right down to their physicality, until nothing is left at all. “Which… brings us to now.” Sunrise shifted uneasily as Twilight stepped up to her. “You asked if this was why our society is so focused on forgiveness. And no, it isn’t. But Stygian’s Lament is the reason why talks like this are so important. Why everypony has this kind of talk at least once in their lives. Usually with their parents, before they even start school. “Because Stygian didn’t have to die. Nopony who has ever cast that spell – in any form – ever did. Because, in the grand scheme of things, there’s no such thing as an unforgivable crime.” Sunrise raised an eyebrow. “Really.” But Twilight nodded. “Really. Look at Discord’s history, sometime… at least, what little is known of it. Or, well… any number of ponies. Think of how different the world would be if they hadn’t been forgiven, or if they couldn’t be.” Sunrise nodded slowly, thinking of another alicorn in her life. “In Ponish, ‘repair’ and ‘repent’ have the same root word,” Twilight went on. “And there’s a reason for that. If you wrong somepony, you do need to make up for it. Granted, most times, it isn’t that hard. But sometimes, it is. In the rarest instances, it might take a lifetime. Maybe several. Just the same, even if you will never be able to truly make up for something you did, you still have to try. Because suicide repairs exactly nothing. And without making up for what was done, there is no penance. There’s only more pain. “And nopony, no creature, anywhere, is beyond mercy and compassion. No crime is unforgivable, so long as there is genuine penance. Which means no one is irredeemable. Anyone can be forgiven. Pony, human, whatever.” She looked at Sunrise. “Anyone.” Sunrise nodded. “Got it.” But Twilight shook her head. “No, I don’t think you do. Sorry, but I need you to say it. Out loud. Right now.” Sunrise frowned in confusion. “Say what?” “Anyone can be forgiven.” Sunrise looked dubious. “Um…” “Say, ‘anyone can be forgiven.’” “Why are you…?” “Anyone can be forgiven. Say it.” “But—” Twilight stepped forward into Sunrise’s space with a strange intensity. “Anyone. Can be. Forgiven.” Sunrise stepped back, looking around uncertainly. The colors around her seemed strangely more vivid, the shadows somehow vanishing without any increase in light. The books seemed more real, with a presence and gravity all their own, even as the light crystals flared in their sconces and the walls curved strangely, the shelves’ corners smoothing into a continual arc around them. Minerva was awake now, staring around herself in sheer terror. Sunrise forced herself to face the princess again. “Uh, Twilight, this is getting—” Twilight took another step forward. “Say it,” she snarled. The walls and bookshelves arched over both of them unnaturally, the ceiling slowly rising upwards with a groan. Everything was impossibly vivid, impossibly detailed. More real, somehow, than any living thing could ever be. Sunrise’s flank butted against a table. She gasped at the contact, half-expecting to phase through it, insubstantial as any ghost. Above Twilight’s head, the geodic patterns of the sanctum walls churned like an angry sea. “Twilight—” “Say it!” “I—” Twilight’s eyes flared with a white light as she roared with the voice of an enraged sphinx, “Damn you to very Tartarus, Sunrise Shimmer, SAY IT!” Sunrise’s eyes went wide. “Anyone can be forgiven!” For a moment, the two of them stood, staring at each other. Twilight, still radiating a power that Sunrise had never thought possible. Sunrise, still staring at Twilight as she pressed against the table behind her. Then, her eyes fading back into their usual violet, Twilight looked away, sat back on her haunches. The room silently returned to the state it had been, its otherworldly vividness and dimensions fading away. There was a fluttering sound as the owl flew out a newly-opened window, vanishing into the daylight. “I’m…” Twilight started, then shook her head and looked at her hooves. “No, I won’t apologize. I can’t. Even if you never learn anything else from me, if this is honestly all you ever get from me, then… mission accomplished.” Sunrise studied her friend, still a little uneasy. “Are you… okay?” “Yeah.” But Twilight’s voice was a little strained as she continued looking down. “Twilight, I don’t understand. What…?” Twilight took a shuddering breath. Then she spoke again, still addressing the floor. “I had this talk twice, actually. It’s part of learning unicorn magic. Once with your parents, and then once when you’re older, with your magic teacher. After all, using sorcery means your mistakes have a greater chance of affecting others. Much greater. “My second talk was with Celestia.” Tears struck the floor tiles as Twilight went on, “I‘d just entered her apprenticeship. I was nine. And she… she really scared the crap out of me. I don’t think I ever really got just why she was so intense about it, until today. But yeah, the idea of somepony you care about, someone you love, not understanding that is,” she swallowed, then managed, “completely and absolutely terrifying.” Finally, she looked up at Sunrise, cheeks wet, her face full of misery. “And I am sorry that I scared you…” In an instant, Sunrise had grabbed her and was hugging her tightly. “It’s okay,” she said. As Twilight hugged her back, she added, “I just didn’t know you cared that much. It never occurred to me you could. That’s all.” And then, after a pause, “I love you too.” Twilight sniffed a little as they continued hugging. “Also,” Sunrise teased when they parted enough for eye contact, “You can be a seriously scary broad when you put your mind to it.” That, at least, got a laugh. “Just saying,” Sunrise winked, bringing more laughter through Twilight’s tears. Still laughing, they both hugged again. It took a little while for them both to regain their composure, and longer still before they felt truly ready to return to the party. As they approached the tea room. they could the voices echoing merrily from within. Opening the door, they found Spike asleep in Sunset’s lap while she chatted happily with Cadence, even as human-born Twilight was excitedly discussing astronomy and astrophysics with Luna and Celestia. Looking at them, at that moment, one would never know they had not lived together, grown together for years. Or even all their lives. Sunrise and Princess Twilight exchanged a smile. The royal family, it seemed, had indeed grown. Author's Note . . . . . . This chapter - and by extension, this entire story - was inspired by Parting, by Wanderer D. If you haven’t checked out their stories already, please do. 7: Rebirth.. That night, Sunset and Sunrise again found themselves at the balcony, contemplating the night sky. “Are you going to be okay?” Sunset asked. “Sure.” Sunset gave her a look. Sunrise sighed, ran a hoof along her mohawk. “I guess. It’s just… it’s a lot.” “Yeah. I remember.” “With Celestia? Yeah, I can only imagine. Still, just dealing with Twilight on Bald Mountain…” Sunrise shook her head. “That was… wow.” Sunset glanced at her. “Really pulled out the stops, huh?” “Christ, I hope so.” Sunset chuckled a little. “Yeah, I hear you.” “Right. So, anyway, still processing.” “That’s fair. But… okay, look, this may be prying,” Sunset said, “and if it is, say so and I’ll back off. But is that what’s really getting you?” “Well, no,” Sunrise admitted. “And it’s not prying. Not from you. It’s just…” She sighed again, then went on, “Twilight’s talk was all about penance and balancing scales. And I get that, I guess. But how can I make up for what I did? Even if we lived in the same world, I’m not a surgeon. And I can’t take away the nightmares she’s bound to be having.” Sunset studied her for a moment. “What?” “Let me make sure I understand the problem,” Sunset said. “You’re learning unicorn magic from Princess Twilight – a process that takes years – so you can help and protect the innocent. And in the fall, you’re going to be working as an assistant teacher, guiding and guarding Ponyville’s foals.” “And helping them not make my mistakes, I hope,” Sunrise added. “Right. And now, you’re trying to figure out what you could do to make up for those mistakes.” “Exactly! You’ve got to admit, I’ve kind of landed in the clover here.” Sunset simply nodded, keeping her face as straight as possible. “Well, I’m sure something will come up,” she said. Sunrise rolled her eyes. “Great. Thanks.” Sunset grinned. “I’m here for you.” And then, her face serious again, she reached over, placing her hoof on Sunset’s arm. “Seriously,” she said. “I am here for you.” Sunrise smiled a little, putting her own hoof on Sunset’s. “Hey. Me, too.” They stood, and hugged. “You guys ever need anything,” Sunrise said into her twin’s mane, “and I mean anything…” “…we’ll call.” “Promise?” Sunset squeezed a little harder. “I promise.” . The following morning, the Twilights had already left to get more flying in before breakfast. So, Sunset and Sunrise had decided to wander around Ponyville for a while, maybe visit Sweet Apple Acres. But as they stepped out into the early daylight... “SURPRIIIIISE!” Pinkie cheered, arms and rear legs splayed out as balloons burst upwards in all directions. Sunset glanced around with huge eyes at the collection of banners, balloons, confections, and various ponies munching, talking, and enjoying themselves. The largest banner of them all, stretching across the street in front of the Castle of Friendship, read WELCOME SUNSET! in giant, friendly letters. Meanwhile, a marching band happily oom-paah’d its way back and forth in front of the castle doors, even as fireworks began to explode overhead. “Ummmm… thanks?” Sunset managed. “You’re welcome!” Pinkie bounced. “This is your Happy-Welcome-To-Your-Home-Away-From-Home-Sorry-About-The-Confetti party!” “Oh,” Sunset nodded. “Sure. That makes sense.” Sunrise looked at her. “It does?” Sunset shrugged. “Well, I’ve had practice.” “Oh.” Sunrise considered her brief observations of Sunset’s human friends for a moment. “Yeah, okay, I can see that.” “Anyway,” Pinkie went on, “there’s games, puzzles, prizes, treats, and – most important of all – no confetti! I added more balloons to make up the difference,” she added with a wink. “Why no confetti?” Sunrise asked. “The hard part was figuring out how to fire them out of my party cannon without—oh, because of Sunset of course, silly,” Pinkie giggled. “I’d forgotten that her Pinkie’s confetti explodes on contact before. “Which, by the way, sorry about that,” she added to Sunset. “I never meant to startle you. Not like that, anyway.” “Oh, um, that’s okay,” said Sunset, feeling more confused by the minute. “But Pinkie, where did you get all these balloons?” Sunrise marveled. “It’s like you filled the whole town with them.” The three of them made their way to a confection cart hovering about a foot off the ground, wading their way through the knee-high layers of balloons filling the streets as they did. Here and there, foals and a few older ponies burrowed, jumped, rolled and played in the multi-coloured orbs as though Ponyville had become a giant ball pit. The cart was one of several which were held off the ground by bunches of floating balloons tied to its corners. On the cart itself were trays of cupcakes and tiny pies, all shaped like balloons. While the Sunnies were selecting munchies, Pinkie said, “Well, you have to catch them when they’re small, of course. If they’re too old, they’re almost impossible to wrangle, especially in numbers like these.” The unicorns exchanged an amused look. “Go on,” Sunrise said. “Fortunately, the mother balloons are really, really stupid,” Pinkie continued, selecting an apple berry cupcake for herself. “I mean, they’re big and strong, and they’re more agile than they look, but they’re also dumb as rocks. So once you find a nest, harvesting the baby balloons is pretty easy.” She paused, considering. “Of course, you always have to leave a few behind, to keep the species going. That’s just ecologically responsible.” “Of course,” Sunset said dryly, looking around at the decorations. “Really, the hardest part is keeping the young balloons under wraps until you’re ready for the party,” Pinkie nodded as she munched. “They’re really skittish. And in large numbers, if something spooks them, they’ll stampede.” She took another bite, adding, “And believe me, if you’ve never seen a balloon stampede, you don’t wanna.” “Right,” said Sunrise. “Wait a minute!” Sunset’s head whipped around to stare at Pinkie Pie. “How did you know my Pinkie’s confetti explodes?” “I thought for a while about opening up my own balloon ranch, years ago,” Pinkie mused, ignoring her. “But there were just too many complications. Not even counting the amount of land and clouds you need to graze them properly, the branding practices for an adolescent balloon are—oh, no!” The unicorns glanced where Pinkie was pointing, and then simply stared in sheer confusion. For there, half-lumbering, half-bouncing down the street towards them, was the single largest balloon either of them had ever seen. It filled half the street, its chromatically-swirled elastic skin rippling and warping as it approached. Sometimes, it bounced off its smaller kin, other times it scattered them before its massive girth. But always, it moved along an almost straight line, its true target unmistakable. “It’s the mother balloon!” Pinkie Pie screamed. “She found me! Run!” While the other party-goers laughed and rolled or jumped out of the way, Pinkie Pie fled for dear life, scattering multcolored balloons in all directions. Meanwhile, the polychromatic giant behind her gave its hulking chase, bounding over Sunset and Sunrise as it did. In a moment, Pinkie was gone, her buoyant pursuer close behind, her screams fading into the distance. Sunrise and Sunset simply stood, still unmoving, staring in the direction where she had fled, identical expressions of bewilderment on both their faces. “I… feel like there’s a lot to unpack, here,” Sunrise said at last. “Uh-huh.” “You… feel like starting in on that?” Sunset slowly shook her head. “Not even remotely.” . The rest of Sunset and Twilight’s visit, while certainly not as exciting, was nonetheless well-spent. Sometimes, the young mares paired up with their counterparts. These were frankly Sunrise’s favorite times. In many ways, it was like getting to know the sister she’d never known she’d wanted. They might spend hours wandering Canterlot. Sunset would point out various sights of the capital, talking about the history of the place and how it had changed since she’d lived there. Sunrise, on the other hand, would take Sunset about town in Ponyville. There fewer sights to see, of course. But that also gave a kind of relaxed air to such times, and they happily wandered without much of a plan, chatting as they went. And in all cases, Spike was always welcome. The three of them happily conversed and joked for hours at a time, occasionally hanging out with Princess Twilight’s fellow Elements as well. The hatchling would have been welcomed by both mares regardless. But it still remained: sister or not, it was still a lot easier with other things to do, and other people around. Meanwhile, of course, the Twilights would fly everywhere they could, following a precise and detailed itinerary to allow them to cram in as much shared knowledge, fun, and flying as efficiently as possible. On the other hoof, sometimes the engaged couple would head out to explore and see the sights, just the two of them. This left the Castle of Friendship denizens more or less going back to their usual routines, with Twilight researching and seeing to her royal duties, Sunrise studying and practicing her magic, and Spike cooking, organizing, visiting friends - mostly Rarity - and occasionally giving Sunrise some friendly teasing while she practiced. The rest of the time, the four of them would split up into cross-dimensional Sunny and Twilight teams. During these times, Princess Twilight and Sunset would leave the Castle of Friendship to visit various friends. Sometimes they visited Twilight’s fellow Elements, other times they spent time with the other princesses. Sunrise and Twilight Sparkle, meanwhile, would spend their time in Princess Twilight’s great library. The first such occasion found each of them with small stacks of books, quietly reading as they reclined in opposite ends of the place, Spike contentedly puttering about as they did. Eventually, Twilight Sparkle broke the silence. “Hey, Sunrise,” the pegasus ventured at last. “You know, I’ve been seeing Princess Luna in my dreams a lot. By which I mean, literally every night since I got here.” Sunrise seemed very engrossed in her book. “Mmm.” Twilight cleared her throat a little, then said, “That’s not… usual, is it?” The unicorn buried her muzzle deeper into her book. “Sunrise?” Eventually, Sunrise spoke in a quiet voice, “When I heard you were coming… I, um… sort of asked her to keep an eye out for you while you were here,” She swallowed, then went on, “I’m sorry, I know I should have cleared something like that with you first. I just…” Her voice trailed off into silence, her face hidden by the tome’s ancient cover. Sunrise heard the rustle of wings as Twilight rose from where she lay. Sunrise tried not to cringe as she heard the soft hooffalls approaching, and ultimately stop beside her. “Hey?” Sunrise looked up. Twilight Sparkle’s smile was nervous, but genuine. “Thank you,” she said. Her eyes sad, Sunrise smiled back. “Any time,” she said. Twilight Sparkle lay down next to her, back to back. She opened her book, and continued reading. After a moment, Sunrise went back to her own book, as well. The pain that hung between them was powerful, and wouldn’t die easily. But in the days that followed, the long periods of relaxed quiet - interspersed with the occasional word or smile - seemed to give them both a kind of reassurance. It wouldn’t be today, or tomorrow. But someday, they would heal the wounds between them. And so the remaining days passed quickly in the Castle of Friendship. Until, all too soon, the day of the humans’ departure was upon them at last. . “Uuuuggghh.” The kitchen was much smaller in the Castle of Friendship than in Canterlot Palace, its freezer therefore also of lesser size. But Princess Twilight, like her former teacher, kept it well stocked with ice cream. And with Sunrise living there, the old stockpile of specialty ice cream from generations before had been delivered shortly after Sunrise’s talk with Celestia. Now, sitting across from Sunset in the spacious dining room, Sunrise stared. “How can you say that?” she demanded. “This is your flavor. You loved this!” “Sure, when I was twelve.” Sunset pushed the bowl away, still making a face. “This is all you.” Sunrise cocked an amused eyebrow as she accepted the bowl, scraping its contents into her own. “Okay, so, what do you like now? Rocky road and ghost pepper?” “Cherry.” “Cherry?” “Mm-hm. I’ll be right back.” While Sunset rummaged in the walk-in, Sunrise continued to shake her head, mouthing the word, cherry? Then, the door to the freezer flew open again, Sunset holding a five-gallon tub aloft. “Victory!” she cried. Sunrise gave a lopsided grin as her twin heaped scoops of the pink confection into her bowl, then took the first bite with a long sigh of pure bliss. “You know, come to think of it,” Sunrise mused, “when I was a kid, I used to love cherry ice cream. It’s funny.” Then, with a mischievous look, she recited, “But, doth not the appetite alter? A mare loves the meal in her youth that she cannot endure in her age.” While Sunset snickered, Sunrise continued, “Shall quips and sentences and these paper arrows of the brain awe a mare from the career of her humor?” Then both mares stood and leaned over the table to gleefully shout in unison, “No! The world must be ponied!” After a moment of giggling, Sunset said, “We need help. Like, years of professional therapy.” “Or at least another bowl or two,” Sunrise agreed, scooting the pink container closer to her. “Oh,” Sunset reached for the ice cream scoop. “At least.” . A few minutes later, Sunrise looked around. “You know, it’s kind of quiet. Where is everypony?” “Spike’s at Rarity’s, and the Twilights are getting in as much last-minute flying as they can before we leave.” “More flying?” Sunrise asked. “Is she going to be able to even move tomorrow?” “I think that’s part of the plan,” Sunset observed. “She’s curious as to whether she spontaneously developed new muscle mass when she got wings, or just enlarged and polymorphed old sets of muscles to additional tasks.” “So, if she has muscle pains corresponding to her wing strain, she knows her previously existing muscular structure was adapted?” Sunrise shook her head. “Man, what she’ll do for science.” “Well, I think it’s also an excuse to fly more.” “Yeah,” Sunrise nodded sagely. “No blame.” After a few moments of contemplation, Sunrise said, “I have a potentially awkward question.” “Okay.” Sunrise swallowed another bite, then asked, “Did you set me up for the talk with Twilight on purpose?” Sunset started to reply, and then stopped, thinking. “I mean, I’m not mad,” Sunrise assured her. “But I’ve been meaning to bring this up for a while, you know? You did kind of steer the discussion towards history, and then…” Uncomfortable, Sunset nodded. “Yeah, um…” she looked away. “Maybe? I mean, I’m… not completely sure.” She leaned her chin on her hoof, contemplating another spoonful of ice cream. “I certainly could have. I used to push people’s buttons all the time. Not something I’m proud of, but there it is.” She sighed. “So… yeah, maybe. And if I did, I’m really sorry.” Sunrise shook her head. “It’s okay, I get it. I used to hustle all the time. But I didn’t want us to part ways without talking about this. Because looking back, I think I might have done the same thing.” Sunset looked at her quizzically for a moment, then frowned. “You mean, when you sent the message?” “Yeah. At the time, it just seemed the right thing to do. But then I started thinking, what did I think you would do? What was I expecting to happen? And then I started wondering…” “…how much was my right to know, and how much was just bad habits?” Sunset nodded. “Yeah. I get that. But at the same time, you weren’t trying to play me. And it’s not like you got anything out of it.” Sunrise gave her a fond smile. “Well, I kind of did.” Sunset returned the smile. “Well, okay, me too. But you know what I mean.” “Yeah.” “So, I guess in the future we’ll just have to be more careful,” Sunset considered. “It is something to watch out for, so that we don’t keep doing it. But all in all, good things came from it – at least this time – and we meant well, so… no harm, no foul?” Sunrise thought, then nodded. “I think so. At least, I’m good if you are.” “I’m good. So, friends?” “Yeah. Friends.” Sunset took another bite, then held up her bowl. “Works in progress?” Grinning despite herself, Sunrise clinked her bowl against Sunset’s. “Works in progress.” Epilogue: New Beginnings.. Twilight happily flopped on the bed, spread-eagled. Right after a long and luxurious shower, there was probably nothing better than clean sheets and flannel pyjamas. Well, okay, having hands again was on the list, too. But, still. Jammas. With a long sigh of pure luxury, she lay there for a moment, eyes closed. Then, she half-rolled over to glance at Sunset, just sitting down at her desktop. “What’s up?” “I’m thinking of checking in with the rest of the girls. We’ve been gone over a week, local time.” “It’s late,” Twilight observed. “They’re probably all asleep.” Just the same, she rolled the rest of the way over and started tugging her laptop towards her. She’d built it herself, and still tinkered with it now and then. One of the first things she’d put into its design was a faster start-up. As soon as the screen lit up, she started typing. DaVinciGirl: Anybody else still awake? Sunset gave her a pretend sour look, eliciting the grin that she loved so well. Meanwhile, her own Eris finished loading, giving the familiar chime of a response. Appleseed1988: you coukldn’t slep eighther? Sunset’s fingers flew over the keys. NoHornNeeded: Nah, we just got back. NoHornNeeded: What about you? Appleseed1988: somethin woke me up caint get back to slep though im really tired The40%Rule: Yah, I’m still up. Persona4Dancer: Me too! Diamond Lil: I’m up as well. Appleseed1988: aw hell anybodyelse get woke up by a weird dream? Diamond Lil: No, just working on a project. Persona4Dancer: Thinking about pancakes. The40%Rule: No, just thinking. Appleseed1988: well glasd for that at least Appleseed1988: had enough coincidedces for s while DaVinciGirl: What are you thinking about? Persona4Dancer: Pancakes! :D Diamond Lil: Goodness, me, too. DaVinciGirl: *Rainbow. Persona4Dancer: Oops! Sorry! DaVinciGirl: np. Persona4Dancer: You were thinking of pancakes, too? Diamond Lil: No, darling, I’m glad we’re done with coincidences. The40%Rule: Just stuff. Diamond Lil: Because goodness knows, we’ve had more than our share. Sunset and Twilight exchanged a worried look. NoHornNeeded: okay, everybody, wait a minute. NoHornNeeded: Rainbow Dash? You okay? The40%Rule: Sure. Diamond Lil: Do pull the other one, darling. It plays music. DaVinciGirl: …RD? The40%Rule: Look, it’s no big deal. The40%Rule: Okay, it kinda is, but… The40%Rule: Look. Gimme a sec… Diamond Lil: Take your time, dear. For almost a full minute, all screens were still. Then: The40%Rule: I mean, have you guys thought about where we’re going from here? Sure, it’s summer now, and we’ve got the band and everything else… but once the Fall hits, some of you are going to college, Fluttershy’s studying veterinarian medicine somewhere, Rare’s probably going somewhere in Europa to master fashion. AJ’s got her farm, so she’ll stay around… The40%Rule: This isn’t just the usual Senioritis, you know? I mean, sure, there’s that, too. But together, the Rainbooms helped people. We saved lives. We made a difference. The40%Rule: Are we just going to stop? If someone’s in trouble, we’re not gonna step up? The40%Rule: And if we do, and we’re alone, will we make it? DaVinciGirl: I admit, I hadn’t thought about that. Diamond Lil: Nor I. Persona4Dancer: Of course we’ll help people! It’s what we do! Appleseed1988: sugarcube, whats really got you in a twist like this? Appleseed1988: I mean thisis valid but theres somethin else too eaint it? Appleseed1988: crhist I caint tyope tonight The40%Rule: Well, yeah, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, in a way. But it’s really my problem, not yours. Appleseed1988: Doesn’t man we aint gonna help. DaVinciGirl: Look, we respect your privacy, of course. But we’re your friends. Diamond Lil: If it’s hurting you, dear, that rather makes it our problem. The40%Rule: Yeah, fair. The40%Rule: It’s just… The40%Rule: Ever since we got our magic… I mean… sure, ponying up was awesome when we played. But then in the games, we started getting our real powers. And they really came out at camp. And that’s great. The40%Rule: Because Fluttershy’s going into vet medicine, and her magic’s perfect for that. The40%Rule: And Twilight’s got TK from hell, I can only imagine how useful that’ll be in her egghead stuff. The40%Rule: And AJ’s super strong and she’s doing heavy farm work. NoHornNeeded: Oh, sweet Jesus. The40%Rule: I guess force fields aren’t fashion industry material, but they can’t hurt, right? The40%Rule: And Pinkie Pie is a living party cannon, if there is such a thing. DaVinciGirl: And you were going into sports. Appleseed1988: oh hell I am so sorry sugarcube. It didn’t eben register till you said somethin. The40%Rule: Yeah. The40%Rule: I was gonna play soccer. Hit the olympics, play professionally. The40%Rule: Not much point when I can outrun a car. The40%Rule: Hell, I think I could outrun a plane if I pushed myself. The40%Rule: But what’s the point of that either? NoHornNeeded: Oh, geez, Rainbow Dash. (hugs) Persona4Dancer: (hugs) Appleseed1988: (hugs) The40%Rule: Thanks, you guys. Diamond Lil: (hugs) We should have realized! Persona4Dancer: (hugs) DaVinciGirl: (hugs) The40%Rule: That’s okay. Persona4Dancer: (hugs!!!) The40%Rule: Okay, Pinkie, I get it. Thank you. Diamond Lil: So, what are you going to do, then? If you don’t mind my asking? Diamond Lil: Because now that you mention it, my own plans have been changing somewhat, as well. The40%Rule: Well, I’ve been thinking about that. Great power and Uncle Ben, you know? Persona4Dancer: HUGS!! DaVinciGirl: Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? Because keeping a secret identity in modern day would be almost impossible, even without facial recognition software. The40%Rule: I GET IT PINKIE THANK YOU! Diamond Lil: I must admit the opportunity to design costumes for us all is certainly tempting. ;) Persona4Dancer: HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS Diamond Lil: But regarding the practicalities, well, I must side with Twilight on this one. The40%Rule: DUDE WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL????? Persona4Dancer: WHAT WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME The40%Rule: WHAT THE FFUCK YOU STARTED YELLING AT ME FIRST!! Persona4Dancer: I’M NOT YELLING I JUST LIKE TYPING IN CAPS The40%Rule: OH, YAH? WELL MAYBE I LIKE TYPING IN CAPS TOO! YOU EVER THINK OF THAT? NO! NO YOU DIDN’T! Persona4Danceer: HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY The40%Rule: JEEGUS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU IS THERE EVEN A NAME FOR IT Persona4Dancer: TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY The40%Rule: BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH Appleseeed1988: (rips the caps lock off both your keyboards) Appleeseed1988: (throws em away) Appleseed1988: Now tahts enough outta both yall. Diamond Lil: LOL! NoHornNeeded: Best. Eris. Ever. DaVinciGirl: I think you just won the Internet. NoHornNeeded: XD The40%Rule: xD Persona4Dancer: Yay! After a few moments of screen inactivity, Twilight began typing again. DaVinciGirl: So, with that out of the way… RD, you were saying? The40%Rule: Yeah. Anyway. You guys wanna meet tomorrow, maybe? The40%Rule: Cuz I think this is a discussion we might want to have in person. Appleseed1988: im free past about 3pm. Diamond Lil: I can be there. NoHornNeeded: I don’t think T and I have any plans. Persona4Dancer: I’m in. DaVinciGirl: Nope. The40%Rule: Cool. T&S, you mind if we meet at your place? DaVinciGirl: *Nope, we don’t have any plans. DaVinciGirl: Also, nope we don’t mind. The40%Rule: Awesome. I’ll PM Fluttershy, I think she’s got tomorrow off. Appleseed1988: cool. Im gonnna go back to bd. I think I can sleep now. Diamond Lil: Yes, do get some rest darling. DaVinciGirl: Good night. Persona4Dancer: Nighty-noodles! NoHornNeeded: Night. The40%Rule: Night. Appleseed1988: Night, all. DaVinciGirl: And on that note, I’m going to retire. Sunny? NoHornNeeded: Yeah, me, too. Night, all. Diamond Lil: Likewise. Good night, my dears. Persona4Dancer: Nighty-night everybody! The40%Rule: Hey, Pinks, before you go? The40%Rule: Thanks. Persona4Dancer: (hugs) The40%Rule: (hugs) . It was hardly a fitting place for such a fateful meeting. It was near midnight, which was certainly a step in the right direction. But she would have preferred someplace more private. More Noir. Perhaps even foreboding, considering what was at stake. Just the same, she would meet them wherever they desired. They had something she needed. And, unfortunately, they were cunning enough to realize it. Not as cunning as The Clever and Insightful Trixie, of course. But cunning enough to be taken seriously, just the same. Cunning. And certainly dangerous. “Welcome to Meat’N’Malt, home of the famous mac burger,” a plainly exhausted orange girl recited. “Just sit wherever you like, and I’ll be with you shortly.” Trixie nodded. She allowed the door to finish slowly closing behind her as she took in the denizens of the 24-hour eatery. She knew she cut an appropriate figure in her constellation-covered hat and matching trench coat, for all that the people around her were too dense to notice. Which was mildly annoying. Still, a good magician always maintains a presence of both drama and mystery. At length, she made her way to the corner half-booth, where the three sisters waited for her. “So, you’re finally here,” Adagio said. “We were starting to wonder if you were going to show.” Trixie gave a careless shrug. “A magician is never late,” she said. “Neither is she early.” Pulling a chair over, she reversed it and sat in it backwards, her right arm resting nonchalantly on the table. “Yeah, whatever,” Aria scoffed. “You said you were buying.” “The Great and Powerful Trixie is as good as her word,” Trixie said with a careless gesture. “Order whatever you wish.” “Yeah, well, maybe I’m tired of take-out, pretty girl,” Aria said, her eyes narrowing hungrily as she considered the blue girl across from her. “Maybe you’re not gonna buy dinner, so much as provide it.” Trixie glanced at her for a moment, then shrugged. “If you think you can, then by all means,” she replied. “You are not the same as you were at the Battle of the Bands.” Then, her own eyes narrowing, she smiled, adding, “Neither is Trixie.” Aria gave Adagio the slightest glance, and, next to her, Adagio gave her the slightest nod. With her eyes still on Trixie, Aria began to sing, low and soft, her siren voice gently encompassing the burger joint and all within it. Slowly, the background chatter of the place faded to a halt. Humans all around them stopped and stared, their eyes vacant, their hands still. What little energy there was to be had from such sad and mundane creatures, Aria drew in and gladly devoured. Yet, the blue girl across from her resisted, eyes focused, brow creased slightly in concentration. At length, Adagio touched Aria lightly on the arm, and the arcane song ceased. All around them, the steady murmur of conversation resumed. The cook gave a startled cry and began quickly flipping singeing burgers, and the cashier began apologizing to someone over his headset. “Okay, not bad.” Aria grumbled. “Impressive, in fact,” Adagio said with a smirk. “I’d heard you and your fellow students had faced more magic after we’d left. But I hadn’t expected you, of all people, to gain strength from it.” “The Great and Powerful Trixie has found many things in her travels,” Trixie smiled. “Greater strength is only one of them.” “Your ‘travels?’” Aria gave a dismissive wave. “Please. Didn’t you graduate, like, a month ago?” “Only from the mundane halls of Canterlot High,” Trixie said. “But regarding Trixie’s true vocation, the journey has only just begun.” “Can I wear your hat?” Sonata chirped. Rolling her eyes, Trixie handed over her star-and-moon covered hat. Sonata jammed it onto her head happily, admiring herself this way and that in the night-darkened window beside her. “Anyway,” Trixie went on, “none of this is why Trixie sought you out.” “Why, then?” Adagio asked. “The Wise and Deducing Trixie had determined that the three of you had regained your powers,” Trixie said. “And now she has confirmed it.” Aria’s eyes narrowed dangerously, her hand balling into a fist as Trixie went on, “And, judging from the green glow beneath your shirt when you sang, your amulets weren’t repaired, they were replaced. Trixie finds that very interesting, and would like to know from whom these crystals were procured.” “Bitch,” Aria snarled. Adagio placed a warning hand on Aria’s wrist, who gave her a resentful glare and lapsed into a sullen silence. Then, Adagio turned back to Trixie, and said, “Okay, Trixie. I’ll give you credit for guts. And bonus points for fending off Aria. But it’s very late. And you really should go home now.” Trixie cocked her head, genuinely curious. “And why is that? “Because you’ve obviously forgotten who you’re dealing with.” Adagio’s eyes appraised the blue girl as she continued, “You’re not like the Rainbooms, with their accidental magic powers and bardic gift. I’ll grant you, you may be more determined. Maybe even more aware. But that doesn’t really matter. Because in the end, we’re not like you. “You’re human, Trixie. Fragile. And mortal in every way. “Do you really think the Battle of the Bands cost us that much, in the long run?” she sneered. “That it cost us anything? We’re the sirens, kid. We fed on the wars of the ancient Greeks, and when we got tired of them, we led them to their shipwrecks and watched them die. We were in Caligula’s court, and Nero’s. We placed bets on the Napoleonic wars. “Now, don’t get me wrong. I think you’ve got potential. And you’ve got guts, like I said. Play your cards right, and you could go far. But all you’ve got is human potential. And frankly, you’re playing out of your league.” “And even if we told you anything, you really think we’d let you just walk away?” Sonata added, teeth still bared. “Or do you think you can resist us all?” Adagio’s eyes cut towards her sister. “Sonata.” But Sonata’s voice only dropped dangerously low as she added, “No one will remember your coming in here, the Whatever-and-Whatever Trixie. In a week, no one will even remember your name.” Trixie’s right hand remained on the table, relaxed as ever. However, from under the table, where her other hand rested in her coat pocket, came the unmistakable click of a revolver’s hammer being pulled back. For a moment, all three sirens froze, staring at Trixie. “Trixie loads with silver,” Trixie said nonchalantly. “Just in case that matters.” Adagio gave Aria a look of pure loathing. “Happy now?” she said through gritted teeth. Aria crossed her arms, staring at nothing and seething. “Alright, let’s try this again,” Adagio said to Trixie with a calculating smile. “You want information. Fine. But look at it this way: even if we did get our amulets from someone else, we wouldn’t be in a position to tell you anything about it. That would be tantamount to betraying an ally. And we don’t have too many of those as it stands. You can understand that, right?” Trixie nodded. “Of course. Trixie is aware of such things.” “Then why,” muttered a still-seething Aria, “are we here?” “Besides, he’s also kinda scary,” Sonata added. Both her sisters rolled their eyes in unison. “Thanks, Sonata,” Aria grumbled. “That wasn’t idiotic at all.” Sonata ignored her, enjoying her new hat. “Trixie only wishes to show you something,” Trixie said. “That is all.” With her free hand, Trixie reached into her other coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, placing it on the table between them all. It was a photocopy of a page from a very old yearbook. Towards the lower left, circled in magic marker, was a photograph of a plaque on a wall, such as one might see in any high school. On the plaque was a single name. As one, Adagio and Aria stood, their chairs falling behind them. Trixie stood as well, stepping back as she did, allowing them room to leave. “Come on, Sonata,” Aria said. “We’re out of here.” Pouting slightly, Sonata skootched out from the booth. “Thanks for letting me wear your hat,” she said, handing it back as she went by. Trixie nodded. It was impossible not to smile a little. The sirens were at the exit when Aria suddenly doubled back, jabbing a finger at Trixie with a hungry leer. “You’ve got no idea what you’re messing with, little girl,” she hissed. “But you know what? I hope you find what you’re looking for. And I hope I’m there to see it happen!” Then she stormed out of the restaurant and into the night, she and her sisters heading for a trio of motorcycles parked nearby. Trixie stood where she was, one hand still in her coat, pointed down. Any good magician knew breath control, it was essential for many escapes. Granted, it gave little control over the jackhammer that had been pounding in her chest throughout the encounter. But a good magician never lets her audience see her sweat. And besides, she had gotten what she had come for. “No, Aria,” she said quietly with a growing smile. “Trixie really doesn’t think you do.” Once the sirens were gone, the Great and Powerful Trixie strode slowly into the night. Rain would have been ideal for such a moment… but there was a drifting, uneven fog about, and that would certainly do. Ignoring the parking lot completely, Trixie headed down the street, pulling up the collar on her coat as she did. Then, a wave of fog briefly enveloped her, and when it cleared she was gone from all mortal sight. Author's Note . . . . . . This continuity continues with The Black Rainbow Concert. And, of course, the seminal story that starts it all begins here. 3: Adolescence.. “Woooaaahh!” “Fall forward, hon. I got you.” Twilight Sparkle did exactly that, Sunset catching and lowering her onto her forehooves. “This is wonky,” Twilight observed. “Yeah, but balance is easier with four legs,” Sunset grinned. “You get used to it.” “And the transportation itself,” Twilight mused. “I’d expected to feel morphed or even dissolved somehow, but instead I just felt kind of…” An identical voice broke in. “Stretched?” “Twilight! Good to see you,” Sunset grinned. “Sorry we’re late,” the princess said. “Time still isn’t completely constant between our worlds.” “Hey, no problem,” Sunset said, trotting over to her friend. “We just got here, so—” “Is this your library?” Twilight Sparkle asked while they hugged. The princess gave her a grin. “One of them.” “One of them?” the human-born Twilight gasped. “One of them? This is fantastic! Where do we start?” She trotted over to her counterpart, only a little unsteadily. “I can’t wait! The sociopolitical implications of a multi-species set of global superpowers relying on individual prowess rather than warehoused technological devices for preventative sociopolitical leverage are mind-boggling! “No, wait,” she thought aloud, “maybe we should start with history, to give everything context. But of course,” she said with a conspiratorial smile to the alicorn, “you can’t study history without studying geography and economics, am I right? “Wait, I know,” she exclaimed, suddenly brightening even more, “Let’s start with magic! I’ve read the magic books that Sunset has from when she first came to our world, and I can’t wait to learn how to cast unicorn spells, and… and...” Her voice trailed off as she realized that everypony there was staring at her. She blinked, suddenly self-conscious. “What? Did I, did I say something wrong?” She turned back to her twin. “I’m sorry, I—” “No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” the princess said. “It’s just that, this is really unexpected…” Becoming more frantic, Twilight looked from one pony to the next. “What?” she asked. “What’s unexpected? What did I do?” “You didn’t do anything,” Princess Twilight assured her. “Um, honey?” Sunset said softly. “Two things. One, you’re not a unicorn…” “Oh, thank goodness,” Twilight Sparkle breathed. “For a minute there I thought maybe I-- WHAT?!?” For an instant, Twilight Sparkle was staring ahead of herself, her purple wings splayed out to the fullest. Then, as quickly as the moment came, it vanished again. “Awwwww…” she sighed. Wings and tail drooped to the floor, her head hanging low. Princess Twilight took a hesitant step forward. “Um,” she said, “I know you’re disappointed, but all of the pony tribes have their own special magic…” “I know,” the human-turned-pegasus sighed. “And I’m not trying to be racist – tribist, I guess? – it’s just that unicorns are so cool. And I was really looking forward to learning magic,” she finished with another sigh. “Well, you can still study spells as much as you want,” Twilight pointed out. “There have been plenty of scholars who were experts on sorcery, but didn’t cast spells. Even most unicorns aren’t sorcerers.” At her fiancé’s downcast expression, Sunset added, “Not to mention, pegasi can walk on clouds, control the weather…” Twilight Sparkle’s head snapped up. “Wait,” she said. “I can what the what?” “…and fly, of course,” Sunset finished. “Which is kind of the main pegasus thing, really.” “And I have books on all of that,” Princess Twilight said conspiratorially. “Historical and tutorial.” As the pegasus started to take in a delighted breath, Sunrise chimed in casually with, “Not to mention, you also have a cutie mark.” “Yeah,” Sunset nodded. “That was thing two.” Twilight Sparkle froze again, then immediately began to spin. “I do? Where? What is it? I can’t…” While Sunset struggled to keep from laughing, Sunrise sank helplessly against the shelves, gasping with mirth. “What does it look like?” the pegasus shouted frantically. “I can’t see it!” “Faster, Twilight,” Sunrise managed, “you’re gaining on it!” While Sunset mimed a playful kick towards her twin’s ribs, Princess Twilight grabbed Twilight Sparkle by the shoulders. “Here,” she giggled, “you’ll never see it that way.” Once Twilight Sparkle had regained her balance, Sunset levitated off the pegasus’ saddlebags, and the princess helped Twilight turn her head and neck so that she could see her own flank. There, a pyramid shone in light grey, tilted at an angle. A black arch curved to either side and above it. Almost like an aura of power, but not quite… thin at the top, and nearly the width of the pyramid where it touched the latter’s sides. Atop the pyramid, in the center of that ebon curve, shone a single crimson jewel. “Oh, my gosh,” Twilight Sparkle squeed. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! This is so awesome! I couldn’t have picked a better cutie mark!” Sunrise gave a wry grin. “Okay, pretending for a minute that I’m not jealous – which I totally am, by the way –what is it?” Sunset frowned in puzzlement. “That’s a... Vulcan symbol, isn’t it?” Twilight Sparkle looked back at her fiancé, eyes and grin alight with joy. “It’s the Kol-Ut-Shan!” Princess Twilight cocked her head, studying the strange configuration of shapes. “The what?” “The Kol-Ut-Shan” her counterpart repeated. “It’s the Vulcan IDIC principle.” At the alicorn’s continued puzzlement, Sunset offered, “Vulcans are a fictitious race where we come from.” “Right. And the Kol-Ut-Shan, the IDIC, is the cornerstone of the Vulcan philosophy.” Twilight Sparkle continued. “Infinite Diversity, in Infinite Combinations. See, the Vulcans used to be a highly aggressive, warlike race who almost destroyed themselves. But one day, a Vulcan named Surak had an epiphany. He realized that only through conquering emotion and achieving inner peace, could their race survive. So, the Vulcans became the most logical race in the known universe, having conquered all emotion.” She paused, considering. “Unless you count curiosity,” she added. “But that’s debatable. “Anyway, the core of their philosophy is the Kol-Ut-Shan. Because without celebration of the endless variables of the universe, life loses its value. And giving up life’s value is, well, illogical. “Of course, there’s a lot I’m leaving out; the truth of the Kol-Ut-Shan goes way beyond its name…!” “Wait, I’m confused,” said Princess Twilight. “No offense, but you never struck me as an unemotional—” “Nonono, that’s Vulcans,” Twilight Sparkle corrected her. Then she began talking faster, her enthusiasm truly taking hold. “But, when I was a little girl, I watched Star Trek constantly! Especially the classic series, and the cartoon. I loved the Vulcans’ self-control, their spirit of scientific discovery… and above all, the Kol-Ut-Shan! “‘Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, symbolizing the elements that create truth and beauty,’” she recited. Then, she grinned. “Spock’s clone. The Infinite Vulcan, from Star Trek the Animated Series. Anyway, the Kol-Ut-Shan is why, dedicated as they are to pure logic, Vulcans still study art, tradition, and music. And that’s why they explore other worlds, and why they accept the other, more emotional races as equals, and treasure them as friends! “And that inspired me! Even as a little girl, I knew that I wanted to learn everything I could! Not just school lessons, but also art, literature, theatre, music… everything! I wanted to breathe in that infinite light… and then, someday, breathe it out again! “I knew that the world was vast and full of wonder. And I wanted to learn everything I could, become everything I could! And then, one day I would share it all with the world, to bring that light into the lives of others, to help them see their own… to see that, um…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked down at the floor, cheeks burning. “I know. It sounds silly.” Gently, Princess Twilight put a hoof below the pegasus’ chin, brought her gaze up to meet her own. “No,” she said sincerely. “It sounds noble.” Twilight Sparkle gave her a grateful smile. Meanwhile, Sunrise gaped, while Sunset just gazed at her lover in pure adoration. “Don’t ever let her go,” Sunrise whispered. Sunset sighed happily. “I promise.” . The last time Sunset had journeyed through the mirror, time had been of the essence. There had been no time for sight-seeing or catching-up. There had only been a hurried search through the Canterlot Library’s restricted section and a mad dash back home. This time, Princess Twilight was determined that things would be different. And besides, as she pointed out to an increasingly nervous Sunset Shimmer, taking an extra day would give the unicorn more time to relax, and to decide how she wanted to handle her current situation. “Yeah,” Sunset agreed. “I shouldn’t put this off too long, but... you’re probably right. I mean, I still don’t know what I’m going to say when I see her.” “So, wait... with me being a pegasus,” Twilight Sparkle mused, “does that mean I could take an aerial tour?” The princess nodded. “Sure. We could split up, and meet here later tonight.” Twilight Sparkle glanced over to Sunset. “What do you think? We’d talked about taking in the sights together...” Sunset smiled. “Yeah, but that was Canterlot. I never got to Ponyville much as a foal. And besides, if I suddenly had wings, I know I’d want to use them. So, how about Twilight shows you the sights around town today, and I’ll show you the capital after tomorrow.” Eyes shining with excitement, the pegasus turned back to Princess Twilight. “I guess it’s a plan,” the princess grinned. “Okay. I’ll just adapt today’s itinerary into an aerial tour, maybe work in Cloudsdale if there’s time, and Sunny can give Sunset the 2-D tour while we’re gone. I left a spare copy of the schedule in the dining room,” she added towards Sunrise. “Great!” Twilight Sparkle nodded, practically vibrating with excitement. “So, can we start the flying? Now? Later? Soon?” “We absolutely can. Of course, there are certain considerations to bear in mind when dealing with—” ZWOOOOOM! There was a violet blur and the pegasus was gone, leaving the other ponies with their manes waving slightly from her wind. “…new wings,” the princess finished. Then she shrugged. “Oh, well. I guess we’ll meet you girls back here for dinner?” The amber-colored mares nodded. Twilight grinned. “Right, well, guess I’d better catch up with my new flying buddy.” Trotting towards the door, she added, “Oh, and Sunny, could you get out the liniment, please?” Sunrise nodded. “Sure thing.” Twilight called back a quick, “Thanks!” and was off in pursuit of her newly-winged counterpart. Sunset gathered up her and her fiancé’s bags in the glow of her magic, then looked askance at Sunrise. “Liniment?” “Yeah, it’s in my room. Ponies don’t do a lot of driving. Like, none.” As the pair exited the library, Sunset rolled her eyes. “Really? Even today?” “Yeah. They’ve got a train, though, if that helps.” “A train. As in, one.” “Right.” As Sunrise opened the door to her chambers, Sunset shook her head in mock disbelief. “’My child,” she quoted, “we are pilgrims in an unholy land.’” “Well, remember, no mass production.” Sunrise pointed out. “And I think the guy who enchanted the train is dead, anyway. Of course, I haven’t really missed cars for the last few weeks, now that I think about it. So, I guess there’s also the lack of necessity factoring in.” Retrieving the medicine, she said, “Wups! Hey, Daring Do, can you take this? It goes into your room, over there.” With a thought, Sunset levitated the glass jar from Sunrise’s hooves, setting it near the door she’d indicated. “Thanks,” Sunrise said. “I’ve been getting better about dropping things, but the glass is just a little slick.” “No problem.” As the pair headed towards the castle’s main doors, Sunset asked, “So, how are the feathers going?” “They’re going.” “Uh-huh. Like flip, or like fwoosh?” Sunrise grimaced. Sunset nodded. “Yeah. Me too, at first.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do… you want input?” Sunrise thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. I appreciate it, but it’s my magic. It’s my hurdle to overcome. You know?” As they passed together through the front door, Sunset smiled at her otherworldly twin. “Yeah,” she said. “I completely understand.” And then they were outside, in Ponyville, and their talk turned to other things. . The rest of the day was well spent by both pairs of ponies. As Sunrise showed Sunset the various sights and wares of the town, she introduced her as her sister… an explanation which was readily accepted by all concerned. Well, almost all concerned. “Oh, my gosh this is so great! So you must be Sunny’s other Sunny, her other her from the other place that isn’t this place although it kind of is and you totally started out as rivals and enemies but now you’re totally BFFs and best sisters ever who would do anything for each other and that’s so awesome and I’m so happy and excited for both of you!” The unicorns blinked, then glanced at one another awkwardly. “I’m so hapcited!” Pinkie Pie squeed. “Um...” Sunset started, “...sure,” Sunrise finished, both of them nodding slowly. Pinkie leaped into the air for joy, multicolored confetti flying in all directions to cover all concerned. ”YAAAAAYYYY!” “Aaaaack!” Pinkie Pie paused, observing the newcomer Sunny in a crouch, wincing. “Um, are you okay?” Pinkie asked. Cautiously, Sunset stood erect again, confetti liberally sprinkled along her coat and mane. “Couldn’t be better,” she said. After a moment’s hesitation, she began dusting herself off. Very, very carefully. “Anyway, we’re doing the grand tour of Ponyville,” Sunrise said. “You want to come along? You know the place way better than I do.” But Pinkie shook her head. “Nah. I’m on my way to watch the Cake twins. Thanks, though.” Sunrise nodded. “That’s cool. See you around.” There was a general exchange of hoofbumps and hugs. Once the unicorns were out of earshot, Pinkie considered their retreating forms carefully. “Huh,” she pondered. “Boy, Sunset sure seems tense.” Then, she brightened again. “Oh, well. Nothing that a good Welcome Sunset Surprise Party couldn’t fix!” And so, with a solution found and determination made, Ponyville’s party pony bounced merrily on her way. . The Twilights, on the other hand, both discovered a far greater difficulty in social matters. Having been flying for nearly an hour and happily geeking out the whole time, they stopped by Sugarcube Corner for an early lunch. “Princess Twilight,” Mr. Cake waved. “Always a pleasure!” Twilight waved back happily. “Me, too! How are the twins?” “Bright and beautiful as always,” he smiled. “You ladies seat yourselves, I’ll be over in just a minute.” Shortly thereafter, Carrot Cake was beside their booth, notepad in hoof. “So, Princess, who’s your friend?” “This is my, um…” the princess blinked, then stared. “My friend.” “Yes,” her friend agreed, also staring. “Yes, I’m definitely her friend!” “And she definitely has a name!” “Had it for years, in fact!” said friend agreed emphatically. Carrot Cake nodded, growing more puzzled by the second. “And she is...?” “And she is… well... I mean...” The princess’ voice trailed off helplessly. “We’re... cousins?” the pegasus offered. “Or, sisters?” the alicorn suggested. Then, uncertainly, the pegasus added, “...Kind of?” Then, both mares blinked again, looked at one another, then looked back to Mr. Cake. “It’s complicated,” they said in unison. And then, as if by magic, Mrs. Cake was just there, serving them two orders of the princess’ favorite lunch with an understanding smile. “It always is, my dears,” she assured them. The pair ate, discussed metaphysical theory and chronological physics, giggled over correlations and disparities in their lives, and then went on their way, soaring together into the sky. After they’d gone, Mr. Cake stared after them for several moments. Then, he turned to his wife in pure bewilderment. She was behind the counter, rolling more dough, completely at ease. Mr. Cake cleared his throat a little apprehensively, and finally spoke. “Did Princess Twilight just… make another her?” But the mare just smiled contentedly. “Let’s don’t judge, angel cake,” she said. “Equunculi are ponies, too.” . By the time everyone returned to the Castle of Friendship, the human-born Twilight was more than glad to see Princess Twilight’s muscle liniment. While Spike finished preparing dinner, Sunset guided the newly-inducted flyer into their guest room and gently massaged the worst of her strains away. When the ponies all finally sat at the dining room table, she was only a little sore. “I have to say, though, I’m really impressed,” the princess said as they dined. “My first day with wings, I didn’t last nearly so long.” “Well, I kind of cheated,” Twilight Sparkle admitted. She washed down a bite of her veggie barbeque with some cider – making a mental note as she did to get the recipe from Spike – and then said. “I was using telekinesis to help things along, so I wouldn’t overly strain—” “WHAT?!?” The princess stared at her, standing, gasping for breath as she spoke. “You mean… you have… you still… and you’re… with the… even though…” Twilight Sparkle fidgeted a little. “Iiiii… probably should have mentioned that sooner?” “She’ll be fine,” Sunrise assured her. The door to the kitchen opened, and a concerned Spike peeked in, apron and baker’s hat still on. “Hey, everything okay in here?” He asked. “Just peachy,” Sunset assured him. “Radical data was just revealed,” Sunrise added. The young dragon nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Make sure you leave room for dessert.” Twilight Sparkle stared at her plate, and then the dragon. There was dessert, too? “Count on it,” she said. While Spike returned to his pastries, Princess Twilight continued to struggle for breath. “…and that’s… because… unless…” “Okay, Twilight,” Sunset said, “Just breathe…” “TELL ME EVERYTHING!” Sunrise took another sip of cider, completely unperturbed. Then, she walked over to her mentor, saying, “Okay, Twilight, just take in a deep breath…” With some difficulty, the princess did so. “… now release it.” With the exhalation , the alicorn seemed to almost deflate. Sunrise put a hoof on her withers. “You okay?” she asked. “Yeah,” the princess said. Then, she glanced at her human counterpart. “Sorry.” “No, that’s fine, I get it. In fact, I, well,” Twilight Sparkle glanced towards the dining room door. “I documented everything for my own research, and I thought you might be interested, so I brought copies…” The princess grinned. “You brought me copies of your research? Oh, you can so stay.” “In this tiny little castle?” Sunrise winked. “Yeah, you’ve only got, what, thirty rooms in this place? Where’s she going to sleep?” “Oh, she can have your room,” the princess said happily, waving the problem away. While Sunrise made a mock-indignant noise and stared at her mentor with hooves on her hips, Sunset took a contented sip of cider. “Yep, getting kicked out a tiny castle, forced into a huge one,” she said. While her own Twilight leaned over to happily cuddle with her, Sunset nodded sagely to her otherworldly twin. “Told you this place was dangerous.” Author's Note . . . . . .
1: Maturity.. Careful, careful… okay, now around the molars… careful… The toothbrush clattered into the sink. “Fuck.” Sunrise Shimmer sighed, then looked at her reflection. She’d gotten halfway through brushing her teeth before dropping the damn thing, which was a new record. And she knew she should be feeling accomplished. And, in a way, she kinda was. But, God damn it. Sunrise took a moment, gathering her frustration and anger, stowing it into a box in her mind with practiced ease. Today was the day she started learning magic with Twilight. Sunrise had been studying metaphysical theory and history for the last several weeks, and now she was going to start putting it into practice. Images of herself flying through the strength of her will, battling the forces of evil with bolts of mystic energy, pranced before her mind. This was going to be a good day. The start of something important. She could feel it. But first, the future scourge of all evil had to finish brushing her teeth. Sunrise scowled at the sink, then sighed again, beginning the laborious task of picking her toothbrush up with her hooves. Maybe fate would be kind, and Twilight would start her off with telekinesis. . As Sunrise passed through the study’s entrance, she glanced up at the bird stand and the large owl slumbering there. “Hey, Minerva,” she said softly as she passed. The owl fluffled her feathers sleepily in reply. Sunrise nodded to herself, and continued on. Animals were smarter in her new home than in the world she came from. It didn’t seem polite to ignore them. Then she stopped, smiling again as she realized where her thoughts had led her. Yeah. This was home. Then, she took a deep breath. It would be okay. Looking at her surroundings, Sunrise deliberately allowed herself to be overcome by wonder. It wasn’t difficult. Sunrise had never been inside Twilight’s study before, and entering her mentor’s sanctum was very much like walking into the world’s largest geode. The place was a huge, almost spherical room with a high domed ceiling, its surface knobbled with an assortment of swirls and facets of white, deep azure, and sky blue. The surface caught the gentle glow of the sun as it streamed in through the windows, scattering it across the walls and ceiling like handfuls of jewels onto a topaz sea. It would have been a breathtaking sight even without its contents. But being the sanctum sanctorum of Twilight Sparkle it was, of course, full of books. Shelves and shelves of them. All colors and sizes of books, ranging from recent novels to ancient yellow-paged tomes, to massive, leather-bound grimoires. All of them meticulously organized and lovingly cared for, their arrangement occasionally complimented by small sculptures or other works of art, generally used as bookends. For a moment, Sunrise just stood where she was, drinking in the scintillating beauty around her. The air was filled with the exhilarating scent of ancient tomes blending with well cared-for stone, and the musty fragrance seemed to swirl around her, welcoming her in. The six round tables were heavy, dark oak, covered with different magical projects Twilight was working on here and there, or candelabras, or writing supplies, or, well, more books. Twilight was already there, reading some ancient tome or other. Spike was there too, of course, clearing off a table more removed from the rest. Waving to Sunrise, he placed an ornate candelabra of silver and onyx in the table’s center. As Sunrise returned Spike’s wave, Twilight closed her book and trotted towards her. “So, looking forward to this?” she asked after a quick embrace. Sunrise raised an eyebrow. “Only all my life.” “Great! I thought I’d start you off with basic levitation skills—” “Yes!” Sunrise pranced about the study like a foal at a birthday party, while Twilight looked on, bemused. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!” Twilight chuckled. “You know, I had a lot of trouble when I first arrived in your old world, too. Hands are… complicated. It took me a while.” Sunrise gave a sheepish smile. “That obvious, huh?” “Only if you’ve been there.” Twilight’s grin was infectious, and Sunrise returned it. “So, you starting me off with feathers?” “You’ve been studying,” Twilight said with approval. One of her wing feathers floated gracefully to a nearby table, illuminated by her will. “That being the case, can you tell me why we start with feathers?” Sunrise took a breath to dispel her nervousness. “The feathers used in early training are light and aerodynamic, and their texture allows for easier purchase by the mind,” she said. “They’re also associated with flight, both sympathetically and symbolically; and with pony magic, being from pegasi – or in this case, from an alicorn – which makes them ideal for beginners.” On the table was a candelabra, devoid of candles, the narrow points of its drip pans easily visible. The feather alighted delicately on top of the center point while Twilight beamed at her pupil. “Excellent.” She gave Sunrise a friendly elbow. “Not that I expected anything less.” Sunrise grinned again. “Thanks.” “So, that said, it’s time for the real lesson,” Twilight said. “Start out by extending your mind towards the feather. Close your eyes, if that helps. Good. Now, focus. Don’t strain, this isn’t a contest. At this stage, strain just blocks your talent. Just… flow. Your horn is the conduit of your will, and also of your mystic senses. Think of an antenna, where you’re from. Or a radio tower, actually.” Slowly, a gentle glow began to form around the unicorn’s horn. A delicate cyan, the color of her eyes. Twilight gave a delighted gasp. “That’s great! Now, reach out with your mind. Just… feel the feather. And, when you’re ready—” There was a gentle fwuph! of flame, and the feather was nothing more than a few drifting ashes. Twilight blinked. For a moment, neither of them spoke, simply staring at the table with eyebrows raised. “Hm,” Twilight said. “I… take it that’s not supposed to happen?” Sunrise ventured. Twilight cocked her head, genuinely intrigued. “Never in my experience.” For a little longer, the two of them considered the table and its tiny ashes. “Well,” Sunrise said at last, “Long as it doesn’t mean I’m part of some dire prophesy or something...” Twilight shook her head. “No, I think we’re pretty much out of prophesies. It probably just means that everypony learns differently. And after all, you’re only starting this now, with a young adult’s power. So, come to think of it, we should expect some unusual occurrences.” Another feather drifted out from Twilight’s wing, taking the place of its sibling. “Besides, less than two minutes in, you’re already manifesting.” She gave Sunrise a confident smile. “You’ve got this.” Just then, a buzzing sound was heard, further down the hall. It reminded Sunrise of a cell phone vibrating on a hard table. At Sunrise’s quizzical look, Twilight smiled. “That’s the journal. Sunset’s writing me.” “The journal?” Twilight nodded. “The link between the books she and I have is what allows the trans-dimensional portal stabilization matrix to function.” She rose, levitating another feather next to the candelabra. “But, since I still need to read the book to know what she wrote…” Sunrise nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.” As Twilight entered the hall, she could hear another fwuph! from behind her, followed by Sunrise’s verbal struggles: “Oh, come on! Mother fu— feathering son of a… birch…tree…” As Twilight re-entered the study a minute later, she could see Spike rolling on the ground, gripping his sides, helpless with laughter. Sunrise scowled down at him. “You,” the unicorn said with mock severity, “are no freaking help.” The young dragon looked at her for a second, eyes huge with barely contained mirth. Then he was off again, slapping the floor as he howled with laughter. “Yeah, okay,” Sunrise said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that funny.” Twilight took in the scene as Sunrise turned to Minerva. The unicorn gestured at Spike, as if to say, See? See what I have to deal with? For her part, the owl sleepily half-opened one eye, ruffled her chest feathers slightly, then went back to sleep. Spike, meanwhile, would almost get the laughter under control… and then Sunrise would give him a Look, and then he would be off again, the original joke long since eclipsed by the current running gag. “Even the wildlife is against me,” Sunrise said to the ceiling. “I have no friends…” While Spike struggled to compose himself and Sunrise appealed to the heavens for justice, Twilight smiled. Friendships on-course and going strong, she thought. Good for you, Sunny. . As Twilight continued reading, her smile got wider and wider. Finally, grinning, she looked up at an expectant Sunrise and Spike. “Well?!?” Sunrise practically exploded. “Yeah, don’t keep us waiting!” Spike agreed. “Sunset and Twilight from her world are getting mar-rieeed,” Twilight sang happily. “Yes!” Spike cheered, pumping a fist into the air. “Woo-hoo! That is awesome!” Sunrise stared. “I know, right?” Twilight beamed. “And listen to this, ‘We would really love it if you and all our friends on your side of the looking glass could make it, so we’ve decided to get married twice… once in our world, and once in yours!’” She looked up again. “So, reading between the lines here, I bet Celestia will be officiating Sunset’s wedding.” She beamed. “Oh, my gosh, can you imagine how happy that will make her?” “Yeah, especially after the way Sunset ran away into another world and became a bitter enemy of Equestria and stole the Element of Magic and almost destroyed both worlds and everything!” Spike cheered. Twilight rolled her eyes. “Way to put it into perspective, Spike.” “Hey, I’m just saying, things are better now.” “Well, okay, point taken… um, Sunny?” Twilight frowned, noticing Sunrise’s expression. “What’s wrong?” “Married?” Sunrise asked. “Yes…” Twilight said cautiously. “Married. As in, wedlock.” Twilight’s caution increased. “That... is what the word means, yes.” “At age eighteen.” Twilight’s frown deepened. “Since that’s how old they are, I would presume so…” “And am I the only person here who thinks this might be, I don’t know, a bad decision?” Spike looked from Twilight to Sunrise and back. “...Probably?” he ventured. Twilight set the book on the table. “Alright, let’s take a minute. You obviously have concerns, and these are our friends, too… would you mind sharing them?” Sunrise sighed. “Look, I know that ponies are considered young adults at fifteen, and all that. You’ve still got apprenticeships that start as early as nine. And, that’s fine. Humans used to do that too, hundreds of years ago. And maybe ponies just mature differently. Fine, cool, I get that. But eighteen-year-old humans aren’t done maturing.” “The wise never are.” Sunrise rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Urgh! You know what I mean.” “Okay, but then what about you?” Spike asked. Sunrise smirked. “Yeah, nice try, but I’m a pony now. And they’re both human. I don’t know about unicorns, but the human brain doesn’t even finish maturing until something like, between twenty-four and twenty-seven.” “Sure, but then what about you and Luna?” He pressed. “You guys are dating, right?” “That’s not the same thing! We’re not looking at forming a lifelong, legally-committed family bond at the age of… okay, my age of...” Sunrise blinked. “Okay, that just got weird.” Then she shook herself. “But my point is…” “Your point is?” prompted an increasingly amused Twilight. “My point is, marriage raises the stakes. In everything.” She made a sour face. “And most high school marriages just don’t make it.” “They’ve graduated,” Twilight pointed out. “Only just! And there are a lot of hard feelings afterwards when those marriages don’t work. And besides, they’ve known each other, what, a year?” Twilight nodded, still puzzled. “Well, sure. But most engagements are settled in a few months, unless the ponies meet when they’re still underage—” “They’re human,” Sunrise said again. “Sunset is human now, like I’m a unicorn! Which is both a different society and a different species.” Twilight looked at her quizzically. “So, you think they should…?” Sunrise made a face. “I dunno. ‘Should’ is too strong a word. I mean, it’s their lives. I just…” She sighed, sitting down on the floor. “I don’t know. I want them to be happy, and I don’t want them getting hurt. That’s all.” Then she sighed again, looking away. “Well, more hurt,” she added. Spike, meanwhile, had been reading the book’s continuing red script. “Hm. Well, Sunset says it’s going to be a long engagement.” He blinked. “Wow. A really long engagement.” “Oh? How long?” Twilight read over his shoulder. “Um… looks like around nine years.” Sunrise’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah,” Twilight agreed. “Apparently Sunset raised some of the same concerns, and Twilight – her Twilight – cited something about, um, excuse me, Spike…” she flipped back a page. “Here it is: ‘positive correlative evidence supporting conditional increases in the neurological development rate of the frontal lobe when adapting to certain forms of survival-oriented environmental stress.’” Sunrise looked upwards for strength. “Of course she did.” “I wonder if she’d send me a copy of those studies,” Twilight mused. Sunrise buried her face in her hooves. “Of course you do.” “Well, anyway. Sunset says they’re engaged now,” Twilight went on, turning the page back as she refocused, “because their commitment is genuine. But they’re taking the actual oaths when they’re older, because they both understand biology. The initial estimate is about nine years – which would put them both at age twenty-seven – but apparently the final date is still open to negotiation.” Standing, Sunrise took a deep, fortifying breath. Then, she let it out in the Sigh of the Eternally Enduring. “Nutjob,” she said, shaking her head. “My otherworldly twin sister is a certifiable nutjob.” Spike was vastly amused. “Uh-huh. And what does that make you?” “The only non-delusional person in the family, obviously. Now, come on,” she nodded to the candelabra. “Let’s get back to my learning unicorn magic from a princess in a world full of talking multicolored ponies, so I can spend time later with my princess girlfriend who’s a dream-walking alicorn.” “Marefriend,” Twilight corrected her happily. Held by her magic, another feather floated into place. Unperturbed, Sunrise shrugged. “Whatever.” Author's Note . . . . . . While Sunrise’s concerns on neurological maturity are based on science, I have spun the studies that Sci-Twi references completely out of whole cloth. They might exist in our world, but the neurology of emerging adults was not my primary focus when I had proper access to peer-reviewed psych articles. So I know a little about it, but not a lot. Within the EG world, of course, those studies do exist. However: in that world’s academia, they have also been challenged in several peer-reviewed studies that followed. An absolute answer regarding the effects of adventuring on the neurological maturity of emerging adults (age 18-27 or so) in the human population therefore remains unavailable at this time.
2: Emergence.. The sun was finally set. Not one of her more glorious sundowns by any means, she admitted to herself. But great ancestors beyond, she was tired. Not that she regretted the reason for her fatigue. Contrary to what the various school teachers seemed to think, she adored it when their classes visited the palace on field trips. It gave her an opportunity to not only help foals understand their government a bit better, but also to personally meet the next generation of ponies growing up nearby. And, well… So many questions, from so many inquisitive minds. So many new eyes, looking at the world with wonder. She smiled at the memory. How absolutely marvelous. But now, Princess Celestia forced herself through the empty corridors, staring at her hooves, willing them to keep moving. A flicker of will and a brief flash of power from her horn, and elsewhere in the palace, her bathtub began to fill. Bless Abacus for suggesting the series of pre-enchantments on her bathing room, so many years ago. Actually drawing a bath sounded like so much work. Then again, in her current state, she might just fall asleep and sink to the bottom of the oversized tub. Celestia chuckled. That might not be so bad. It would be a silly, foolish way to go… but it would be very soothing, and she would smell nice when they pulled her out. On the other hoof, what might Luna say at the funeral? She imagined her long-suffering sister, bereaved, devastated, and yet struggling to keep a straight face in front of a thousand mourning ponies. Alas, my poor dear sister, she lies before us now… so peaceful, so relaxed, so pruney… Celestia giggled. A few of the guards nearby blinked, but were otherwise still. As she continued her way, Celestia focused her mind, doing her nightly check on those life patterns most intertwined with her own. It had never occurred to her to compare the nightly ritual to that of a mother checking in on her foals before retiring, but she would not have argued with the comparison, either. After all, while stability did not necessarily mean happiness, a sudden flux could mean unwelcome change or trauma, and thus merited investigation. And well, regardless of their ages or many heroic deeds, they were all her little ponies. Twilight’s pattern was first, of course. Celestia’s former student seemed at rest, her possibilities sedate, pulsing slightly as they drew in sustenance. Probably, she was reading. Likewise Spike. Although he had always bonded most fiercely with Twilight, Celestia had always felt a special responsibility towards the young drake, and it pleased her to see that his pattern was also at peace. His possibilities were still woven tightly into Twilight’s, of course, but that was to be expected at his age. Meanwhile, both their patterns continued to be far less static than before they’d moved to Ponyville, for which Celestia was infinitely glad. Boredom and stagnation were fates she would wish upon nopony. All in all, their patterns seemed stable, healthy, and flexible, with many strong connections to other life configurations offering mutual support. So, probably all was well with them both. Next, there was Rainbow Dash’s pattern. Quasi-isolated as ever, yet supporting so many others. And there was her young protégé’s life pattern, of course, woven into hers as though they were siblings. Celestia smiled. On to the next. Looking in on Fluttershy’s pattern, Celestia saw that it was feeding strength and stability into an unreadable number of other lives and events. As always. Point of fact, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy supported the stability of so many other lives, they were both frankly fascinating to watch. And Celestia suspected neither of them had any true idea just how important they were, on so many levels. But, as they both seemed to be stable and at rest, Celestia shifted her attention to the next pony on her mental list. Pinkie Pie—Yes, there she was, full of flux and hard to read as ever. Celestia gave a helpless mental shrug. Hopefully, all was well with her. Moving on. Applejack certainly seemed awake, which was unusual after dusk. And her pattern was not so much in flux as it was subtly shifting in perpetuity. Further, there was another, deeply intertwined with hers… ah, yes, that was Rarity’s of course. Who was also awake, and whose pattern was also shifting in a very similar fashion. Interesting. Celestia contemplated this. Both of them had sisters who were linked into their patterns, naturally. But the mares’ patterns were even more deeply interwoven into one another than those of their siblings. In fact, even now they were actively entwining themselves further, apparently deliberately, on such a level that… Celestia blushed in sudden realization and turned her senses away, taking in a steadying breath. Yes. Well. Taking a moment to refocus herself, Celestia saw that Raven was also awake, as the majordomo would be for several hours yet. Her life pattern had seemed more and more calcified over the last few months, and tonight it looked positively ghastly. Celestia had suggested a holiday for her last week, but Raven had declined. Reexamining the situation, Celestia determined she might have to insist. She made a mental note to speak with the unicorn on the morrow. Perhaps over lunch, when Raven would have a harder time making excuses and getting away. That left only the newest addition to her short list of charges, Sunrise. Her sister’s marefriend was still not exactly easy to read – she was bound into Luna’s pattern far more than Celestia’s own – but she certainly seemed worth the added effort. Besides, all personal qualities aside, she made Luna happy. Sunrise Shimmer could have been a demon from Tartarus itself, and Celestia would have been delighted to know her for that reason alone. Hopefully, as time went on, they would become closer, and the young mare’s pattern would become easier to check in on. But in the meantime… Yes, there it was. It took effort, but Celestia could just make it out, crumpled and folded in on itself as before, strands of potential half-strangled by the creases. Celestia sighed. Whatever had happened to her in that strange neighboring world, Sunrise’s pattern was devastatingly injured from it. Still, it seemed to Celestia that Sunrise was healing, that her possibilities seemed a little less curtailed than when they had first met. Granted, even if she could have seen the unicorn’s life pattern more clearly, it was hard to be sure over such a short time. But she did seem healthier than— Wait. Celestia watched as Sunrise’s pattern suddenly clenched like a fist, collapsing against another pattern it had found. Celestia strained, trying to see… Oh. She blinked. Oh, dear. Celestia spread her wings slightly, gently gliding through the corridors as quickly as she dared. The unicorn would surely be in a delicate state, and whatever had happened, Celestia had no intention of somehow making things worse by startling or intimidating her Her refined senses allowed her to read patterns, not geography. But she knew the configuration Sunrise had encountered, all too well. And there was only one place in Equestria where any part of its touch yet remained. . Sunrise silently closed the door to Luna’s chambers behind her. Surprising Luna with breakfast had been awesome, and the berry pancakes had been as big a hit as Twilight had promised. But it was a long way back home, and if she was going to get any sleep she needed to head out now. She took a moment, and smiled at the silvery moon engraved into the midnight blue door, its bejeweled silver handle. Then, she reached out, gently resting a hoof on the crescent shape. She’d always been more of a night person, but the moon had come to mean something very different in recent weeks. Sighing happily, she looked across the hall at the door opposite Luna’s, gold sun engraved on white pine. The sun had also come to mean something new lately, though not quite so much. The door next to Luna’s was unadorned, plain oak. And then, next to that, rose and azure, with a blue bejeweled heart. The other princess, she guessed. Cadence? That sounded right; Sunrise hadn’t read much about her. Maybe she was a princess of music. That would be pretty awesome. Across the hall from Princes Cadence’s room was a violet door with a familiar six-pointed star. Twilight’s old room, obviously. And Twilight had mentioned that Cadence had used to foalsit her, so the rooms being across from each other made sense… Then, Sunrise stopped, puzzled. Why the door in-between Twilight’s old room and Celestia’s? It wasn’t just an oak door, like most of the others down this hall. It was made of red wood - cherry, maybe? - with a clear finish and a elegantly curled gold handle. It looked like somepony had painted pictures on the door, years ago, only they hadn’t stuck to the varnish and had mostly fallen away over time. And they were only on the bottom half, what little was left. Sunrise peered at the door for a moment, genuinely intrigued. Then, by sheer impulse, she twisted the ornate golden handle and let the door swing inward… and immediately grabbed for the door again. What was she thinking, this was somepony’s room! But then she froze, door handle half-held in one hoof. The door had opened into— Oh, God. She took in a slow, terrified breath. Stared in disbelief. Oh, God. It wasn’t just anypony’s room. It was hers. It was her old room. Her old bedding with the star-pattern covers, her old navy blue curtains. The old vanity she’d converted into a mirrored desk, her art supplies, her books crowded together on a single bookshelf by her bed. Horror gripped her. Her breathing was fast now, her chest tight and painful. Had it all been a dream? Running away, the years of struggle, finally finding a world of her own…? If she looked in that mirror, would a terrified 14-year-old girl stare back at her? Still human? Still trapped? Sunset didn’t so much fall as collapse with her side against the open door, shaking, staring at the floor. She’d passed the threshold, she realized. It was too late to run. She screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to be trapped in the past. Didn’t want for none of it to be real. Twilight. Luna. Please, she thought, please don’t have been a dream, please… But then, a set of hooves, gentle and strong, were helping her up. Hooves. Not hands. “Sunrise? Are you alright?” Sunrise opened her eyes. There, helping her up, was Celestia. Her ancient violet eyes sad and concerned. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she managed. “Just, um,” she cleared her throat. “Freaking out. A little.” She rubbed the back of her neck, then added as she looked away, “Okay, a lot.” Celestia didn’t seem surprised, but simply nodded with understanding. “This was her room,” she said. “Whose?” “Sunset’s.” Sunrise looked again, her mind taking in the differences now. She saw the desk vanity, not the second-hand piece she’d restored as a child but a well-maintained antique. She saw the covers on the faded books, far more worn and ancient than any she had owned, and no paperbacks. Then, there was the way the bed was neatly made (hers never was), with a gold frame instead of the well-worn brass one her last foster home had supplied for her. The stuffed bear on the bed, a dead ringer for the first one she’d had as a little girl, not the one she’d taken with her when she’d run away for good. But above all, there was the dust. Basic anti-vermin spells would have kept the bugs and mice out, of course. But still, no one had been in the room in years. Maybe decades. “I’ll need to check the wards later,” Celestia said. “They’re supposed to keep out anypony but her.” Her voice was perfectly controlled, but the pain behind it was unmistakable. Sunset stared up at her, stricken. “Oh, man. Oh, Celestia, oh, jeez, I am so sorry…!” “There’s nothing to forgive, my dear.” For all her heartache, Celestia’s smile was genuine. “After all, you weren’t made welcome here by accident.” Sunrise gave a reluctant smile, then glanced at the room again. She quietly reached out and closed the door, then turned back to Celestia. “So. You, um,” she nodded towards the hall. “You wanna… go for a walk? Or something? I mean, I know it’s late for you, and if you need to crash, crash. I just hate for your day to end like this, you know?” Celestia smiled, the royal mask reflexively sliding over her fatigue. Together, the two of them began making their way down the hall. “Yes,” Celestia said. “Thank you. That sounds lovely.” . By the time they’d reached the end of the hall, their conversation had veered towards stress and comfort food. Shortly afterward, their ‘walk’ had led them to the royal kitchens. There, in a walk-in freezer, was a positive treasure trove of ice cream. For several moments Sunrise had just stood, staring, wide-eyed as any foal. Shelves upon shelves, stocked with every flavor imaginable. Ice cream, sherbet, ice cream cakes, frozen custard and more, along with every sundae topping imaginable. “It’s true what they say,” Sunrise had whispered. “In Equestria, Heaven is a real place.” Now, they were sitting across from one another at a kitchen table, happily munching away, an assortment of various topping containers scattered about between them. Celestia had made herself a massive sundae with birthday cake ice cream, whipped cream, bananas and a rainbow of berries. Sunrise, meanwhile, started out with just a few scoops of an ice cream Celestia had recommended for her. She’d been dubious when she’d read the label, but now she sighed in sheer contentment. The strawberries were sweet, the ice cream was creamy, the pistachios were crunchy, and there was just the slightest hint of that sweet jalapeño bite at the end. “You know,” she said, “I was never much of a meat eater. Giving that up wasn’t that big a deal. But ice cream?” She shook her head. “Yeah. If you guys hadn’t had that, it might have been a deal-breaker.” “Agreed,” Celestia said happily. She glanced over at Sunrise’s empty bowl, and asked, “Would you like more?” “Nah, I shouldn’t.” Sunrise gestured towards where the small tub sat, half-empty, clearly labeled, Iced Creame. “That’s all that’s left. I should save it for whoever else.” Celestia raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in invitation. “There’s no one eating that flavor but you,” she said. “What? But then how… ohhh,” Sunrise’s eyes went wide for a moment. Of course. Commercial refrigerators always included spells to keep the food from ageing or getting freezer burn. The label’s archaic spelling should have tipped her off, but she’d been too distracted by its contents. “Wow. Okay. Well, then, I’ll save the rest for Sunny,” she nodded. “She’s bound to come around sometime.” “No,” Celestia shook her head. “Sunset never visits.” Then she sighed, adding, “Forgive me. I have been very foolish. I opened a door, and now I find myself reluctant to enter. That was both careless of me, and rude to you. My apologies.” “No, you’re cool. I… look,” Sunrise dropped her spoon in her bowl, pushed the bowl away. “We’ve both got a lot we’re dealing with, here. And it’s weird. Like, really weird. I’ve got all those people – ponies, whatever – who are acting like I’m long-lost family or something, and you’ve got whatever old crap I’m digging up just by being around.” Celestia studied her. “And?” “I dunno, maybe your first impulse was right. Maybe we should just face all this, head on.” Celestia opened her mouth, then closed it. “How would we start?” she said at last. “Well, how about, um… how much do I really remind you of her?” Celestia looked back into her ice cream. “A great deal,” she said. “You’re not the same person, obviously. And your differences are also obvious. But at the same time, you could be sisters. I found myself wishing, shortly after we met, that you could have been found here together. She desperately needed someone who understood her, and she had no one.” Sunrise nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But things are better now, for both of us.” “Yes.” Celestia’s smile hovered for a moment, then turned wistful as she added, “She has gained a kind heart over the years, and learned so much I couldn’t teach her. I wish I could see her again.” “I wish I could help.” Celestia considered the young mare across from her, then said, “Yet, you came here so suddenly, yourself. Forgive my asking, but surely there’s someone in your old world who also misses you, who wonders what might have been? Sunrise shook her head. “Not really. I mean, once I hit the road, I had a few teachers now and then. Mostly Roundhouse, but I guess there were a few others, too. “ Celestia cocked her head. “Roundhouse?” Sunrise nodded. “Yeah. He was only a few years older than me, but he’d been on his own since he was nine. He taught me how to fight, how to hustle, how to stay alive. How to rely on myself, and why.” She chuckled a little at the memories, her voice taking on a soft drawl as she recited, “Nevuh trust anyone but yo’self. In the dahkest moments, even yo’ shadow abandons you.” After a moment, she continued, “And, he proved it, too. The last lesson he ever taught me was when he took off while I was asleep, with all our money and goods. I had to start all over again, with nothing but the skills he’d given me and a will to survive.” She glanced at the princess across from her, then looked down. “Sorry. I must be totally blowing your image of me tonight.” But Celestia shook her head. “Not even a little. Luna has spoken highly of your strength and determination. It is one of the many things she loves about you. I’d just never had any details until now.” Sunrise gave a rueful smile. “Thanks.” Then, taking a breath, she continued, “Anyway, all my life, I could have just disappeared, and no one would have really cared. Even when I was in the system, more often than not I was just extra income… that, or else someone too young to fight back. “So, eventually, I did disappear. Multiple times. And there is a kind of freedom, I guess, being able to just vanish without a word. But my life was never like Sunset’s. I never had a Celestia, growing up.” Celestia looked at her fondly. “Well, you do now.” Then, as the younger mare looked away, she frowned. “Sunrise? Are you sure you’re alright?” “Sure. I just… this is…” She lapsed into a helpless silence. Celestia considered her, then nodded. “I think I understand,” she said kindly. “You’ve probably read that my sister and I weren’t born royalty. The fact is, there was no such thing in those days. Life was a constant struggle to survive, and many times we were met even by our fellow ponies with hostility, or open hatred. Some tried to kill us, as if we were monsters spawned out of flux. And those few who did reach out to us, didn’t know us.” Celestia took another bite, then continued, “Then, Discord fell. And somehow, despite our youth, we found ourselves suddenly exalted. Beloved by the people who became our subjects and our nation. Even worshiped, for a time. Their affections foisted upon us, whether we would or no.” Sunrise sighed, ran a hoof along her zebra-like mane. “Yeah. Nowhere the same scale, but yeah. Kinda.” Celestia nodded her agreement. “It is terrifying.” Cocking her head in thought, she added, “Maybe we’ve been a little inconsiderate, heaping so much on you so quickly.” “No, no, you’re cool,” Sunrise sighed again. “It’s just… why does all this have to be so feathering scary? Can you at least tell me that?” “Perhaps because you have the wisdom to know that accepting friendship, and returning it, forms a bond. Just as you know that with that bond comes responsibilities.” Sunrise sighed again. She leaned her chin on her hooves, and tried to push away the memories. “Yeah,” she muttered. “But what you don’t understand yet is that we haven’t put our trust in you blindly,” Celestia went on. “Nor have we given you our love on a whim. We simply see the worth in you that you don’t yet.” Sunrise leaned a cheek on one hoof. “Joy.” Celestia chuckled. “I know. I don’t know how to advise you how best to handle this, dear one. I wish I did. But I can’t see into your heart, and my sense for patterns works far better on events than on sapient beings.” The ancient alicorn glanced over at Sunrise. She saw, of course, the red and gold mohawk, the golden ear hoops in fresh piercings. The black leather cloak that concealed Sunrise’s lack of cutie mark, despite her age. But beyond that, Celestia took in the grace rippling beneath the unicorn’s amber coat, the strength behind those azure eyes only beginning to be discovered. A formidable young mare, only now approaching the true summer of her power. “Still,” Celestia concluded, “What I do know is, one way or another, you will find the answers you need.” “Because I’m so much like Sunset?” Celestia looked down into her bowl again. Sunrise winced. Fucking idiot! she thought. But before she could apologize, Celestia spoke, in a voice both soft and sad. “No, Sunrise,” she said. “It’s because you have a brilliant mind, a strong heart… and a far better teacher than she ever did.” Then, silence. Say something! Sunrise raged at herself. Fucking say something! She felt like she’d just stabbed Celestia through the spine. Like she’d shoved an icicle through her own chest. I love you, too, she thought. I love you all, and I’m sorry I keep hurting you. Not only by being stupid, but just by fucking being here! She could say that. She could. And she would mean it, every word. But instead, when she opened her mouth, the words hit her closed throat and died there, unspoken. She bit her lip. It wasn’t fair. Truth was supposed to make it easier to talk, not harder. And all the while, Celestia sat with a half-eaten sundae before her, lost in her own regrets. Damn it, no, Sunrise thought. Just... no. In a sudden burst of motion, Sunrise rose from her chair. She strode around the table and fiercely embraced the sad monarch, hoping desperately that if she did, maybe she wouldn’t have to say anything. There was a great rustling of wings, and Celestia enveloped her in a gentle, powerful embrace in return, her own chair upturning behind her. As if to say, no, she didn’t need to say a single word. . Hey, this is Sunrise. Twilight said it was okay for me to use the book, so, yeah. Anyway. Um, there is no graceful way to say this, but I kinda accidentally went into your old room last night. Celestia is still keeping it like it was when you left. For several moments, Sunset stared at the message. Celestia was… what? Sunset looked up from the journal, her mind reeling. It had never occurred to her that Celestia would… Meanwhile, more words were forming on the mystical pages. Everything is just like you left it, and it’s warded against anypony but you. I guess we’re twins enough that the wards got confused. Is there Another long pause. anything you want sent to you? the line finished. Sunset took in a long, deep breath. Released it slowly, in deliberate control Hey Sunny, this is Sunset. Yeah, I wouldn’t know what to say either. I’ll need some time. This is a lot. Hey, no prob. I should put the book up, get back to practice anyway. Stupid feathers. Sunset snorted, grinning. I remember. Give ‘em hell. There was the barest of pauses before response. Sister, you have no idea. Sunset closed the book, her grin vanishing. With great, exaggerated care, she placed the book on the shelf behind her, slid it into place. She stood from the couch, closed her eyes, and took in another slow, deep breath. . Twilight’s head jerked up when she heard the scream. Quickly extinguishing the Bunsen and setting aside the vial she’d been examining, she darted from the garage into the house, shedding her lab coat as she did. The indecipherable sounds of rage became words as she rounded into the living room. “…in a convent, god damn it all to hell and Hong Kong with a flying fuck at Santa Claus!” Sunset railed, throwing pillows in all directions. “You conceited, self-righteous, all-knowing, stuck-up, solar-powered, pseudo-precognitive, smirking, manipulative, sun-butted BITCH!” Twilight screeched to a halt as a crimson-faced Sunset rounded on her with teeth bared like a Tengu mask. “Um…” she tried, a little timidly. “…Rainbow Dash?” “No!” Sunset said, covering her eyes with her hands. “Not Rainbow Dash! Celestia! Fucking Celestia! My mentor! The closest thing to a mom I ever had, which isn’t fucking saying much,” she ranted, gathering momentum again. “Celestia, the Sun Maiden, the Lady Who Burns, the Princess of Day and who the fuck knows how many other slobbery titles…!” Filing away the term ‘slobbery title’ for later reference, Twilight walked to her lover and started to put a hand on her shoulder. But Sunset just collapsed back onto the couch. “Even when I left,” she snarled. “Even when I fucking left, even then, she couldn’t take me seriously.” Then, suddenly spent, she fell back, her head bonking slightly on the bookshelf behind her. Taking advantage of the lull in the storm, Twilight sat beside her, put her arm around her. “What did she do?” She asked. “Sunrise just wrote,” Sunset said, staring at the ceiling. “Celestia’s been keeping my room exactly like it was when I left. And I mean, exactly like it was. Untouched. Magically locked against anyone but me. Ready for me to just move back in any time. She was so sure, so absolutely fucking certain that I would fail, that I’d realize that everything I’d done was just some big mistake, and that I’d come crawling back to her, begging forgiveness…” Twilight hugged her. “Hey…” “And you know what?” Sunset went on, pressing her fists against her temples, eyes wide. “You know what the biggest fucking burn is? I did! I totally fucking did! I bowed and scraped, and fucking begged her to forgive me, the very picture of penance, as soon as I needed help with that goddamned memory stone. Christ!” She buried her head in her arms. “She must have been fucking laughing all the—no,” she corrected herself with a snarl. “No laughing. Her face might crack. Just a knowing smirk and an ‘I told you so’ as soon as I was out of earshot. The only thing missing was me begging for my old room back, because of course everything I’d tried on my own had failed. God damn it.” She sighed, then repeated, “God damn it!” Gently, Twilight began massaging Sunset’s shoulders. Sunset moaned a little. “My folks are keeping my room for me, too,” Twilight said. Sunset’s head snapped up, her face stricken. “But I thought they liked me…!” Twilight shook her head, still massaging. “No, no, that’s not what that means. They discussed it with me. It means they want to be there for me, while they’re giving me my own space. They’re giving me – and you – a place to land in case of accident, so we don’t get hurt. A safety net.” Sunset blinked. “They don’t think we can’t succeed,” Twilight said. “They’re trying to show support by making sure that we’re never cornered, and that I know we’re always welcome. Both of us.” Sunset blinked again. “In your case, with Celestia, it’s probably also communication,” Twilight said, considering. “According to everything I’ve read, complete renovation of a child’s bedroom in western societies is usually reserved for their marriage, for an acknowledgement of their full adulthood, or in the event of their death. Whichever comes first. “The main exceptions are when there’s been a bad falling-out. Then, the room is sometimes immediately rented out, turned into an office, or whatever. Showing that the bridges are burned. That their kid is dead to them. And from what you’ve indicated in the past, pony Equestria and human Equestria often have very similar root customs. “So, since your parting words were angry, and you’ve talked before about how difficult your relationship was when you were a kid, it seems logical that she’d be extra concerned about further miscommunications. Therefore, this may also be an attempt at a passive, non-time specific nonverbal message.” “Meaning?” “Meaning she probably didn’t want to risk your coming back unannounced, and then thinking you’d been written off. So, she’s protecting your safe place for you. Just in case.” Sunset stared into space, processing Twilight’s words. “I’m an asshole,” she said at last. Twilight kissed Sunset’s cheek. Then she slipped behind her to start working on her shoulder blades, contentedly crossing her legs around Sunset’s waist. “I’m a crazy, psychotic, screaming asshole,” Sunset went on. “Sweet Jesus, every time I start thinking I’m getting over this whole rage-driven bitch queen thing…” Twilight kissed the back of her head. “And, god damn,” Sunset went on. “It’s been a few years over here, but over there it’s been, what… generations? It’s had to have been. I mean, I never worked out the conversion rate between timelines, it might not have even been a constant until Twilight built her stabilization matrix, but…” She slumped. “Even after everything I’ve learned, I’m still a selfish bitch. God, I never even thought what she’s been going through, all this time. Seriously, never. I only even showed up when I needed something. What’s it been like for her, all these years? “My old teacher…” She sighed, resting her chin on her fists while Twilight worked on the base of her skull. “Hell, I need to stop kidding myself. She’s my foster mom, for all our problems. And what must she have been feeling? First, I ran away. Then, I went back and I stole Twilight’s coronet – which was the ultimate betrayal of every trust Celestia’d ever placed in me – then I found a better home in another world. And then I just stayed here. Even after the gate was stabilized, even after graduation…” She sighed, slumping down again. “I’d stayed away all this time, thinking I wasn’t wanted. And now…” She covered her face in her hands. “Damn it! Every time I start thinking I’m not the selfish little bitch I used to be…” “So, we’re going, right?” Twilight asked. “That is where we’re headed with all this, right?” Sunset started, then half-turned to stare at her. “I mean, I finally get to see where you grew up, meet your mom,” Twilight went on, “plus, a chance to study unicorns in their own environment when they’re actually unicorns. Meet,” she amended quickly, while Sunset watched her with amusement. “I mean meet. Meet unicorns. “And besides,” She looked Sunset over her frames with mock severity. “My counterpart’s library is over there. And if you think I’m passing that up, then you’re sorely mistaken.” Sunset took a deep, fortifying breath, and released it. Then she rose, pulling her fiancé to her feet and hugging her fiercely. There was a quick kiss, then an exchanged smile, foreheads touching. “Yeah. Let’s get ready. I’ve put this off for too long.” “Now you’re talking.”
4. Minority.. “You can do this,” the pegasus Twilight whispered. “Uh-huh,” her fiancé whispered back, obviously not convinced. “You have a plan.” “Sure.” “You’ve got this.” “Right.” Before them, a pair of giant doors loomed, massive constructs of Equestrian steel. Beyond them, the royal entry hall. And past that, through even more massive doors of enchanted gold, the throne room itself. And within, Princess Celestia. Sunset Shimmer swallowed, looked uncertainly at the pegasus beside her. “Honey...” she squeezed her eyes closed, her voice was a harsh whisper. “Oh, God, Honey, I can’t...!” Twilight Sparkle turned to her, enfolding her in her wings. “Yes, you can. You’ve faced down sirens, rogue magic, berserk would-be nature spirits... and that was in high school.” She kissed her fiancé’s cheek. “You can do this. She isn’t even an enemy.” “But I didn’t care about them!” Sunset glanced at the doors, then back to Twilight Sparkle. “This is... I don’t know!” “Look, what’s the worst that can happen?” Sunset seemed to shrink slightly. “Everything?” Twilight embraced her harder. “So, then, what’s the best that can happen?” Sunset hesitated, then looked away. “That’ll never happen.” “Not if you don’t go forward, no,” Twilight agreed. “You can go on, and face this. Or you can go back, and I’ll never bring it up again.” Gently, she touched Sunset’s cheek, prompting the unicorn to look at her again. “But whatever you do, I’ll support your decision.” For a moment, Sunset met her lover’s gaze. Then, closing her eyes, she nodded. “Yeah, okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.” Behind the pair, Sunrise Shimmer and the Princess of Friendship followed at a respectful distance, ready to offer both support and privacy. As the great doors slowly opened, the hall beyond was plainly seen... and the throne room, as well. But strangely, the great hall was busy with an assortment of petitioners and nobility, all milling about in varying degrees of resentment. “Just what did she mean, calling a recess in the middle of an audience?” one unicorn demanded from his companions. “Why, the very idea!” “Rescheduling all appointments for the next three days in accordance of distance traveled to be heard?” a regal-looking pegasus shrilled. “Honestly, I never saw the like!” “Hmph! Why is she even here?” an earth pony snorted. “Doesn’t she do her best work at night?” The conversations slowly faded into a quiet murmur as Princess Twilight entered the room. The nobles, gentry, and petitioning commonponies bowed to Princess Twilight - who nodded in return - and a few even called out to her or cheered. For her part, the princess waved, smiled, and politely kept the group of four ponies moving through the parting throng towards the throne room itself. Beyond the great golden doors - always kept open during the day - the throne room was plainly visible. It was also all but empty. Lining the walls were the usual guards, of course... but seated on the twin thrones were both sisters of the Equestrian Diarchy. Their gaze fell fully upon the four ponies who entered, even as the palace guards continued to politely and deferentially guide the last of the petitioners into the entry hall. The gradually rising sounds of the displaced court were all that saved the four from the throne room’s silence. Princess Twilight frowned. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why is Luna here? What’s going on? I thought we would have to deal with lines of ponies just to get in.” Sunrise looked upwards at the ceiling. “Yeah, well, I might have sent ahead once we were underway.” “Sent what ahead? How did you...” the alicorn stopped, staring at her friend. “You can do that?” Sunrise shrugged. “Well, it isn’t me, exactly. But we’ve gotten really... um... close.” Then she smiled, blushing a little. “So, kinda. Yeah.” Pulling a small scroll out from her courtly attire, a white unicorn mare standing near the thrones read, “Announcing, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, Sunrise Shimmer, and...” She blinked, frowning, than read, “...and Twilight Sparkle.” Raven Inkwell considered the matter for only a moment before shrugging to herself, replacing the scroll. Stranger things had certainly happened before. As Sunset approached the great dias, both mares behind her could see her entire body cringing, see the tension in her back, her legs, her flanks. The pegasus beside her was walking against her, now, giving her as much comfort and support as she could. At length, they stopped, two pairs of ponies before the Queens of Night and Day. Luna’s eyes were gentle and kind, yet impassive. Her interference would plainly be minimal. Celestia’s gaze was hard as diamond, her features mask-like and cold. Sunset fidgeted, scarcely daring to meet her old mentor’s stare. She levitated several books out from her saddlebags and towards Princess Celestia in a blue-green glow. “Here, um, these are yours,” she said to the floor. “I’m sorry I took them when I left, and that I took so long to return them. I guess I should have brought them last time…” A golden aura enveloped the books, setting them to one side. “Thank you,” Celestia said, a little awkwardly. “Yes, I imagine these have been missed in the Royal Canterlot Library.” “Yeah. Well.” Sunset looked to the pegasus beside her. “Um, anyway, this is Twilight Sparkle. The one from my world. I mean,” she went on, “the world where I live now. Where my home is. Not in any bad sense,” she added quickly. “I mean, this is… urgh!” she stared at the floor, fighting back tears. “Damn it, Why is this so hard?!?” She could feel Twilight’s hoof on her shoulder – her Twilight – and placed her own hoof over it. This had been a mistake, Sunset realized, but not an irreparable one. She could still make her formal excuses and leave. Twilight would still get to fly some more, plus geek-out with Princess Twilight and her library. They could just stay in Ponyville until it was time to go home... “Sunset?” Celestia’s voice was gentle and uncertain. Sunset looked up at her, saw the monarch’s features softening to betray a flood of conflicting emotions. “Oh, child. After so many years, do you truly think I’ve been concerned about a few books?” “I…” Sunset blinked. “I really don’t know what to think,” she admitted. “The last time I was here, you were so angry. Especially at first. I mean, sure, you let me use the library with Twilight, and we even laughed a little. But everything was so awkward. So brittle. In the end I figured, okay, it’s better this way. You’ve got your world, and I’ve got mine.” She glanced over to her otherworldly twin. “And then, Sunrise messaged me…” “I had been shocked to see you, after so long” Celestia confessed. “I’d had no idea you were even in Equestria until Twilight walked in to present you, and I was struggling for control. And when you were so formal with me, I thought that meant that there was nothing between us anymore. In retrospect, I suppose I was a bit wooden, but…” “Well, in your defense, you did say you’d missed me. And you did kind of tell a joke later,” Sunset pointed out. “You at least tried to break the ice. I was just so freaked out. Not just about us, though that was a big part of it. But I never thought of the implications.” Celestia nodded. “I remember. There was a crisis. Time was of the essence.” “Yeah, but I should have come back sooner,” said Sunset. “I mean, I only came back that time because I needed something.” She looked away. “I can only imagine how that must have looked to you.” At that, the royal mask dissolved completely. “I thought you were just being polite,” Celestia said quietly. “That you must still hate me.” Sunset’s eyes went wide as she stared at Celestia, exclaiming. “No! I never hated you! I mean…” then she sighed. “I mean, okay, maybe I thought I did, but … look, I was in a really bad place when I first left. And, yeah, for a long while after. Years. I was so angry, I was toxic. I poisoned everything and everyone I touched.” “Yet, through such pain, you stayed away. Why?” Sunset closed her eyes. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” “No!” Celestia took another step downward towards her. “That wasn’t true, it was never true! A day never passed that I didn’t miss you!” “But how is that possible?” Sunset demanded, her agony surfacing at last. “You cast me out in the first place!” “Of my apprenticeship! And only for a time! And even then…” the monarch’s voice trailed off. “Even then, I was wrong. I called out to you as you ran, but it was too late. You didn’t hear me.” Sunset swallowed. “I heard you. I just didn’t believe it.” Celestia sighed. “Casting you from my tutelage was not my first mistake between us, but it was my greatest.” “Yeah, well, I made a few, too,” Sunset said. Then, looking behind her to the crowded chamber beyond, she added, “Um, is there a time when we could talk, a little bit more privately? I know you’re supposed to be holding court right now, and I should let you get back to that. But I really don’t want to leave things like this between us.” “Nor do I, dear one” Celestia agreed. “Whenever you are ready, I will make time for you.” “I don’t want to keep you from—” “No, Sunset,” Celestia cut her off. “I’ve had ample time to review my own regrets, and chief among them is that I never made enough time for you. Please, will you allow me this small effort, to make things right?” Luna considered this, her impassiveness vanishing like smoke. “Is now a good time?” she asked. “This instant, perhaps?” Princess Celestia’s head whipped around to look at her. “Wait, what?” Sunset also stared. “Uh…” she began. “We don’t have any plans,” her fiancé piped up. Then added, “Your Highnesses.” While Sunset gave the pegasus next to her a wide-eyed look that plainly said, what the hell are you doing?, Luna simply smiled, raising her voice to be clearly heard by all in the chamber beyond. “All in attendance are dismissed, all remaining hearings hereby postponed till the morrow,” she pronounced happily. As one, every armored pony in the room bowed, turned in unison, and filed out in perfect formation. Meanwhile, Raven curtsied and exited out the side door, humming contentedly to herself all the while. “And Sunrise,” Luna went on, “Do we not have a… thing?” Sunrise grinned. “Oh, we so have a thing. It’s in a place,” she confided. Luna gave a delighted gasp. “A place, how exciting! And this place, is it… else?” The grin widened. “Oh, it is so else. Hey, Twilights,” Sunrise raised her voice slightly. “You gals wanna come with us to a place that’s else?” Also sharing identical grins, purple alicorn and pegasus both trotted happily over to Sunrise, who, in turn, was heading for the massive double doors as Luna contentedly soared overhead. “I love places that are else!” said the human Twilight Sparkle. Princess Twilight’s grin grew even wider. “Oh, Equestria has the most else places!” A moment later, Sunset and Celestia were alone in the throne room. The doors closed with a gentle boom. There was what might or might not have been the sound of a makeshift bar being slid across the doors, locking them inside together. Then, all was quiet. Sunset opened her mouth for a moment, making a helpless gesture. “We have a lot of friends,” she finally said. Celestia chuckled as she approached. “Yes,” she said. “Yes we do.” There were a few moments of silence between them. Then, Celestia cleared her throat. “Well,” she said at last. “This isn’t awkward at all.” Sunset gave a rueful smile. “Nope. Not a bit.” Both of them sighed in unison. Finally, Celestia spoke. “I love you,” she said. Sunset stared at her. “I always did,” Celestia went on. “When I first took you in, I told myself I was up to the task. And then, the more I got to know you, the more I desperately wanted to be. I knew I was unqualified, of course. But I also knew that Luna and I had grown up with no one else to help us. So, I thought, how hard could it be? You were so bright, so inquisitive. It all seemed so simple. I would teach you magic, enroll you in classes…” Sunset winced. “Yeah, well. Maybe that would’ve worked if I’d been a better kid.” “No!” Eyes wide, Celestia grasped Sunset’s shoulder desperately. “No, that’s not what I meant at all! How could you have been to blame? You were a foal!” “Are you kidding? I was a walking disaster! Everyone knew it! And hell, at least you wanted to be around me! God knows nobody else did!” “That wasn’t your fault!” “Whose fault could it have been? Was it your temper that drove the other foals away? Your problems in school? Your strangeness that kept even the most shallow socialites at bay?” “I should have been there for you! I should have understood!” “Understood what? That I was a fucking freak show? “That you needed more time! That you learned differently than other foals! That you—” “’Learned differently?’” Sunset cried. “Do you know how often they told me how stupid I was?” “You were never—!” “PLEASE!” Sunset’s voice cracked as it echoed throughout the room. “PLEASE, JUST TELL ME YOU DIDN’T PUT TWILIGHT THROUGH THAT! SHOVING HER AT OTHER PONIES WHILE THEY CRINGED AND LOOKED AWAY! THE CLASSROOMS, AND THEIR DAMNED SARCASM! THE GALAS, ALWAYS ALONE WHILE THE OTHERS DANCED! THE WHISPERS! THE STARES!” Celestia’s head moved to the side as if slapped, her eyes squeezed shut. “No,” she said quietly. “I learned from my mistakes. Not soon enough to help you, but I did learn.” Tears streaking her muzzle, Sunset looked away as well. “I let Twilight grow at her own pace, in her own way. I let her be as insular as she chose. She never attended a gala until she was mostly grown, and then only from her own desire. “Cadence, too,” the princess went on. “I adopted her as my niece, the way I should have adopted you as my daughter. I kept her close, but only because she wanted to be close. I let her finish growing as she needed, though in truth she was already mostly grown.” Uncertainly, Sunset took a step forward. Her voice was quiet, less than a whisper, her tears still fresh. “Why didn’t you?” As soon as she’d asked the question, Sunset again became keenly aware of the bars on the great doors. It occurred to her that she could blast them out of her way, if she needed to. It had been a long time, but destruction had always been easy. Escape was only a thought and a flicker of will away. But Celestia was already speaking. “Because I was a fool,” she said. After a moment’s silence, the princess spoke again, her soft voice full of regret. “Please understand, it wasn’t an immediate decision, or an easy one. I knew that I knew nothing about motherhood, that I was unqualified. Yet, there wasn’t anyone else who could deal with the raw magical power you possessed, even as a weanling. I’d tried to find somepony suitable, someone who would know what to do. Had Luna not been in exile, the answer would have been easy. As it was, there was no one. As unqualified as I was, I knew I was the best you were going to get. “And then, I saw you. So tiny. So beautiful. So full of love and exploration. I took you in, took you home. You slept next to me that night, and woke me early the next morning with your cries. “Until I’d met you, I had never wanted a child. And yet, over the course of just a few days, I found myself wanting nothing more. “So, I told myself that I would be good enough. And, for a short time, it seemed as though I was. “Then, one night, while you were asleep, I did something I hadn’t dared to do for centuries. I cast my senses towards Luna, re-examining what I could see of her patterns. You had been with me only a little while, but somehow, I had begun to feel hope again. It had been so long, I had almost forgotten how. “And so, I was looking for something, anything that might give me some reason to go on hoping. To see the future as something other than a chain and scaffold.” She sighed, then went on, “That night, I saw a potential event, blazing through my sister’s synchronicities like an unborn star. It was a concurrence between her and somepony else, yielding a magnificent breakthrough of potentials in her life. “Somepony whose pattern... was very much like yours.” While Sunset stared, Celestia went on, “It wasn’t a certainty, of course. Far from it. But it was a possibility. One she had oft longed for in our youth, and had long ago given up on finding. One that plainly would fill your heart with joy, as well. Even as a foal, you’d always wanted to reach out, to connect. And you had always loved the night. “And I was afraid that if we – and therefore you and she – were family, it would snuff out that rare potential. So, I determined to keep you as my ward from that night on.” Sunset blinked. “You thought… Luna and I…?” Celestia sighed. “I wanted you to be happy.” She forced herself to face Sunset again, her own voice cracking as she added, “And if the two ponies that I loved most could find happiness with one another, then I thought I had an obligation to see that nothing I did would bar your path. “So, I turned away from motherhood, in the hope that one day we might be sisters. “And, so... I failed you.” Sunset shook her head. “No. No, that’s not fair.” Celestia gave her a sad smile. “How is it not fair? You came to me as a foal, to learn and grow under my tutelage. There is no greater trust than that. Yet, somehow, I never taught you the things that mattered most. The strength of compassion. The value of friendship. Your own worth. “I should have embraced you, in every way possible, and left the future to weave itself. And instead, I kept you at a distance, despite both our desires. Ultimately, whatever you have accomplished, whatever you have become, it was despite my influence. Not because of it.” “But that’s not just on you!” Sunset insisted. “There was so much else going on! There was school, my anger, my powers, my own social… thing… everything. It wasn’t until I got to the human world that I found out what learning disabilities even were! How were you to know about that, or guess that I’d fall for you instead of Luna, or… or…” Her voice trailed off as Celestia stared at her. “You… didn’t... know about that, did you,” Sunset said. Celestia shook her head slowly. “Wow.” Sunset sat where she was. “Wow. That… really puts things into a different perspective.” “Yes,” Celestia agreed. Her voice was a little unsteady as she added, “Yes, it does.” Then her eyes widened. “The day you got your cutie mark!” Sunset squeezed her eyes closed. “Yeah.” “Never before had another pony come so close to raising the sun. And at thirteen! I was amazed beyond words. But instead of being pleased, you were so angry, so bitterly disappointed! No matter what I said, you were inconsolable.” Her voice became hushed. “But, it was never about magic, or your mark…” “…it was about being with you,” Sunset finished for her softly. “Yeah. I... I thought, if I could do that, if I could just take on part of your duties over the sun and moon. You know, share the heavy lifting. So you wouldn’t have to always be so tired, so alone. Then, we could be…” Her voice trailed off again. Celestia sat, as well. “I’ve been blind,” she said. Sunset went on in a whisper, “It was almost a year later when I finally found the alicorn papyrus. And when I read about the qualities of a princess. I thought...” She swallowed. “I thought that meant that I was unworthy. That you’d decided, probably years ago, that I just wasn’t good enough for you. I cried myself to sleep that night. I’d never felt so hurt. So emptied out.” Then, looking back again to her former mentor. “But… you’d never rejected me. You just didn’t know.” Celestia nodded with growing understanding. “And so your plan to use the Element of Magic, to awaken it and use it to force the Alicorn’s Becoming upon yourself…” “Yeah.” Sunset sighed. “That was the next day. And then, when you… well…” She swallowed. “That’s when I left.” Again, silence. Sunset sighed. “I was so fucked up. I didn’t want you as a mom, because, you know… but at the same time, I kinda did, because holy crap, I really needed one. But mostly, I wanted you to love me enough that I could be with you. I would have done anything for you. I just wanted to be there, beside you. But I couldn’t. “And then, at the end... I thought you’d thrown me away.” Celestia shook her head. “Never.” Sunset pressed her face into her hoof. “Christ, I’m a fucking moron.” Celestia’s voice became desperate, almost pleading. “No! No, you’re not! And you never were, you were a foal! You must stop looking at your past with such contempt! We both made mistakes, yes... but I was the adult, not you!” Celestia sighed then, adding, “I don’t know how many times I have wished to all the heavens that I had done things differently.” Sunset managed a rueful smile. “Well, we can’t go back.” “No.” “But, um, maybe…” Sunset took a deep breath, and made herself take the plunge. “Care to go forward?” she asked. Celestia blinked, then smiled. “Yes. I’d like that very much.” There was a pause, and then they hugged fiercely. Sunset nuzzled into Celestia’s mane. “I always loved you,” she said. “And I, you.” “I think that’s why I got so mad at you,” Sunset sighed. “I even thought I hated you, for a while.” “So many times I should have been there for you, and I tried, I swear I tried…” Sunset took an uneven breath. “I know that now, I do, but it’s all so mixed-up! Every time I think I’ve got it figured out…” “I’d never been incompetent at anything before.” Parting from her slightly, Celestia brushed some of Sunset’s mane away from her eyes. “By the time I realized I’d found something I was terrible at, it was too late.” Sunset raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Now who’s looking back in contempt?” Celestia looked at Sunset’s wry expression, and chuckled. “Alright, I suppose that’s reasonable.” She took a moment, drinking in the sight of her errant former student, her face showing a blend of love… and something else, something completely unfamiliar. Something which Sunset realized she had long ago stopped expecting to see in her former mentor’s eyes, or even hoping for. Pride. “You have grown into a formidable young lady, indeed. And with a wisdom hard-won,” Celestia said at last. Then she sighed, her smile becoming sad. “Would that I had been wiser in raising you.” “Look, will you stop? I mean, sure, mistakes were made… but like I said, it wasn’t just you. It was me, it was this place… it was everything.” Sunset shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I had to go. Maybe, even if everything had been perfect, I would still have left.” Celestia cocked her head slightly. “And are you happy, in your new world?” Going back down to all fours, Sunset blushed slightly. “Yeah. I am. It took a while, and a lot of lumps, but… yeah.” “And the otherworldly Twilight is part of your happiness?” The blush deepened. “Yeah. A big part.” Her mentor smiled as they began walking together. “Then I am happy, too.” Favoring the young mare with an amused look, she went on, “And I will try to look back without regret, since my errors drove you to your happiness.” Sunset gave her a mischievous glance. “Oh, well, you know. You could still have a few regrets.” “Oh?” “Well, you know. I remember one time in particular, being kept in house arrest for a week. You even warded the door to my room, so I couldn’t leave. And completely without cause, might I add…” Celestia’s eyebrows rose. “‘Without cause?’ Sunset, you choked the colt out.” Sunset’s expression was indignant. “He tore my book!” “And by the time the teacher separated you, his lips were turning blue—” A dismissive wave. “Oh, he was blue anyway!” Both mares laughed as they approached the great double doors. Then, Sunset hesitated. At Celestia’s curious look, she said, “Um… Twilight – my Twilight – said she was wanting to meet my mom. I wasn’t going to introduce you that way because I wasn’t sure you’d be cool with it…?” “Be sure,” Celestia smiled. “At least, I am if you are.” “Yeah,” Sunset smiled back. “I am.” They looked at one another fondly. Then Sunset grinned. “That being said, you should probably never see some of the pictures I drew of you.” “You’re probably right.” Again, they shared their laughter. There was a final embrace, then the great doors opened in a glow of gold, the bar that had held them fast gliding gently to the side of the outer hall in an aura of cyan. The twin rows of palace guards were still at attention, the courtiers long since dispersed. Towards the far end of the great hall, the pegasus Twilight was happily chatting away with Sunrise, Luna and Princess Twilight. At the sound of the door opening, they turned to see Celestia and Sunset emerge. Seeing their smiles, the four mares relaxed a bit, and trotted to join them. Still a little unsteady on two hooves, the human-born Twilight settled for nuzzling Sunset. “Everything okay?” she asked gently. Sunset nodded. “Yeah. We’ve still got some baggage, but I think I’ll be coming by more often, so we’ll sort it out.” Sunrise smiled. “Good. I’ve got a new sister and a sister-in-law to get to know better.” “Well, future sister-in-law, technically,” the pegasus corrected her. Sunrise gave a good-natured shrug. “Whatever.” “Meanwhile,” Sunset broke in, “If I could make some overdue introductions? Celestia, this is my fiancé, Twilight Sparkle. Twilight, this is my mom, Celestia.” The instant of pleasure Twilight felt suddenly gave way to panic as she realized she had no idea how to bow on four hooves. She’d meant to ask about this first, maybe have time to practice, but everything had happened so fast! Now that she was here, was she going to embarrass Sunset in front of everybody? Plus, wings! What do ponies do with wings? With bowing? How do you wingbow? Do you spread them like a curtsey? Keep them tucked in? Oh, God! Why hadn’t she researched this beforehand?!? Desperately trying to keep calm, Twilight thought quickly. It made sense that even a bad genuflection would be better than none at all. Okay. Fine. She could do that. But as she started lowering herself as best she could, a gentle wing touched her chin, stopping her. She looked up, and saw the Sun Princess was smiling down at her fondly. “No need for that, my dear,” Celestia said. “Family needs never bow.”
5. Transition.. It was a nice night out. Still hot, of course. But the late night breeze felt wonderful along her coat, and played with her mane a little as it went by. Sunrise Shimmer smiled as she closed her eyes, basking in the moment. The pegasi who planned out the weather had certainly made the last few days great for flying, as the human Twilight had noted. Meanwhile, the nights had been great for long walks. Or, as in her case, just hanging out on a crystal balcony, thinking. She looked out at the shadows of the clouds above, drifting gently. Of course, with most of the weather control being done in Cloudsdale, the butterfly effect would demand that what pegasi did here dictated the rest of the world’s meteorology. She wondered for a moment if that was part of the Weather Bureau’s job, accounting for all that. And did they make their calculations by some magical scrying process, or did they use some kind of hyper-advanced mathematics? Or, maybe, did the ponies not worry about it at all, and just let the rest of the world fend for itself? Sunrise snorted. Yeah, like Luna and Celestia would stand for that. Granted, they probably hadn’t bothered, back in the First Era when Discord had just fallen. That would account for some of the wastelands she’d read about. And maybe some of the modern-day resentment Equestria still suffered from faraway lands. But they also wouldn’t have known back then, either. Besides, if the pegasi weren’t concerned with their weather affecting the rest of the world, why did Equstria have bad weather days at all? Best to ask Rainbow Dash about it, she decided. She’d been wanting to get to know Twilight’s other friends better, anyway. Behind her, a door opened, and a familiar set of hoofsteps stopped halfway through. “Sorry,” Sunset said. “No, you’re cool.” “You sure?” “Uh-huh.” The door closed, and a few seconds later Sunset stood beside her, both of them looking out at the sky, their forelegs crossed on the balcony’s ornate railing. After a few awkward moments, they both sighed in unison. “This is easier with other ponies around,” Sunrise said. “Yeah.” More silence. Finally, Sunrise spoke again. “How’s she doing?” Sunset stole a cautious glance at the human-born mare. “Asleep,” she said. Sunrise’s voice was quiet. “You know what I mean.” Sunset sighed again, then spoke out into the nighttime air. “There’s still intestinal scarring,” she admitted. “She’s supposed to stay on a low-fiber diet, and that keeps the pain down. But every now and then, like tonight, she cheats.” With a helpless shrug, Sunset went on, “Of course, on this side of the mirror, she doesn’t have too many options. We didn’t think about that before we came over. She was sure paying for it before bed tonight.” Sunrise’s voice was strained as she asked, “Is there anything that can be done?” “She’s got surgery in a couple of months. That might help. Granted, there’s always risk of that same surgery causing abdominal adhesion, which lands us right back where we were. But she’s done more research than I have, and she figures the odds are good.” While Sunset had been speaking, Sunrise had lowered her head, chin resting on her crossed arms. Now she remained thus, motionless, her entire body taut as piano wire. After several moments of silence, Sunset spoke. “Sunrise?” When her twin remained still, Sunset gently reached out to her, only to have the other mare flinch away. “I’m sorry,” Sunset said. “But you did ask. Are… you going to be okay?” Sunrise gave a noncommittal shrug. “Sunrise?” Silence. “Hey... are we still cool?” Sunrise gave a bitter laugh that stabbed into her. “Yeah, we’re still cool,” Sunrise said, still turned away. “You could shoot me in the face and we’d still be cool.” “Yeah, but I… oh, God dammit,” Sunset sighed, running a hoof through her mane. “Look, I really want to say something comforting…” “…but there isn’t anything to say,” Sunrise finished for her. “Yeah, I get that. I mean, what are you supposed to say? That it wasn’t my fault? That you don’t blame me?” “Yeah, well,” Sunset admitted. “So far we’ve been pretty straight with each other.” “No sense lying now,” Sunrise agreed. “Right. But remember, Twilight’s forgiven you. She forgave you back before you left.” Silence. “And so did I.” Slowly, Sunrise raised her head, staring into the dark clouds above. When she spoke, her eyes were dry, her voice was clear and controlled, betraying genuine confusion. “How can you be like this?” Sunset opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. “You should hate me,” Sunrise went on. “God knows you’ve got every right.” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. How can you just stand there and say it’s okay?” “No, it’s not okay. That’s not what I’m saying,” Sunset said. She put her hoof on Sunrise’s shoulder, and this time the other mare did not flinch away. “We’re all, all three of us, still coping with everything that’s happened. And you and I are both coping with what we’ve done. But that doesn’t mean…” Then she stopped, studying her otherworldly counterpart with renewed understanding. “That’s right,” she whispered. “You weren’t born here. I almost forgot.” At last, Sunrise turned to face her, brow creased with confusion. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “It’s complicated,” Sunset said. “And it’s really not my place to, I mean... it’s...” She made a frustrated noise, then grabbed Sunrise by the shoulders. “Look,” she said, “just promise me you’ll still be here tomorrow! Okay?” “What?” Then, looking at Sunset’s intense expression, Sunrise nodded in bewilderment. “Yeah. I promise,” she said. Sunset released her. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “Confused as hell, but I’ll be here.” Sunset gave a slight smile. “Yeah, well. Welcome to Ponyville.” Sunrise’s mouth quirked a little, as well. “Yeah. I got that, actually.” After a moment, Sunset asked, “So. See you at breakfast?” “I don’t know. I might be up for a while.” “Sure.” As Sunset turned to leave, Sunrise said, “Hey, Sunny?” Sunset turned to face Sunrise again. The other mare was smiling now, though her eyes were still sad. “Thanks for not sugar-coating it,” Sunrise said. Returning the smile, Sunset winked. “Not my style,” she said. Sunrise gave herself a few minutes after Sunset had left. Then she concentrated, focusing her thoughts outward as best she could. Hey, Honey? There was the briefest of pauses, and Sunrise felt herself enveloped in the invisible warmth of her marefriend’s thoughts. **Yes, Dear Heart?** There was a contemplative pause, and then, **Something saddens thee, I think?** Yeah. It’s nothing new, but I’m going to be chewing on it for a while. I hate to say this, but I don’t think I’m going to be up for dating tonight. **I understand.** Sorry. **Nay, my love. Truly, I understand well the need for solitude. Take whatever time thou needs. I ask only that thou tells me if there is some way that I might help.** Sunrise smiled, her heart lightening despite its burdens. I will. Love you. **And I thee.** There was another moment of warmth, as though wings formed from the summer shadows held her in their gentle embrace. Then the connection faded, leaving Sunrise alone in the soothing darkness of night.
6: Childhood.. It turned out that Cadence was not, in fact, the Princess of Music. Or the Princess of Order, which would have been Sunrise’s second guess. And when Twilight had first told Sunrise what her title (Portfolio? Area of Influence?) was, Sunrise had certainly been puzzled. So, Twilight had told her about being foal-sat by her, a little of her public history, and even a brief version of her wedding to Shining Armor and the misadventure surrounding it. (“So, you’re saying the wedding march ended with a false Cadence?” Sunrise had quipped. Twilight had given her a puzzled look. “I suppose. Why?” “Nothing,” Sunrise had grinned. “Do go on.”) Now, it was the late afternoon, and the train was pulling into the station in a cloud of steam and the squealing of steel on steel. Princess Celestia had written to Cadence that Sunset had come back, and the other monarch had immediately arranged to travel to Ponyville to meet her. Which, to Sunrise, had seemed a bit of an overreaction. Sunset, wide-eyed, had emphatically agreed. Twilight Sparkle, for her part, was simply puzzled. “I still don’t understand,” the pegasus said as the train rolled to a stop. “Isn’t she a queen in her own kingdom? I’m not complaining, but how can she just drop her duties like this?” “Cadence and her husband are co-regents,” Celestia assured her. “Shining Armor is quite capable of covering for her for a few days. Just as she covers for him, on occasion.” “Which, of course, usually means only getting to see them one at a time,” Princess Twilight admitted. “And then, only briefly. Except when I go to visit them, of course.” She paused, adding, “Which I really need to do again sometime, actually.” Just then, the train doors opened, allowing a small flood of ponies to spill out onto the wooden platform. There was the inevitable gasping and bowing, of course, the crowd giving the royal party a wide berth out of respect. Celestia sighed as she smiled, waved, and nodded at the various passers-by. “I don’t know what I was thinking, meeting her in public. I really should have waited at the palace.” “Don’t worry about it,” Twilight said under her breath, also smiling and waving. “They’d still be doing it if it was just me. Just not quite so much.” Celestia’s royal smile remained unwavering. “Really? I had thought you’d managed to maintain a certain informality in your station.” Twilight’s smile became strained as they both continued waving and nodding. “Only in Ponyville,” she replied. Most of the disembarking ponies, it seemed, were indeed from out of town. They showed every sign of being quite overtaken by the presence of so much royalty in such a simple setting. At last, after the cars had emptied, a single figure emerged. Her baggage gently floating in a blue aura behind her, the pink alicorn walked to Celestia. Without a word, they embraced warmly. Then, Celestia turned to Sunset. “Cadence, this is my daughter, Sunset Shimmer. Sunset, this is my niece, Cadence.” “I am so happy to meet you at last,” Cadence said. Sunset winced. “You… heard of me, huh?” But Cadence smiled at her warmly. “No. Not until last night, and even then not much. Celestia has always respected your privacy. But I could always see there was a hole in her heart. And now, I get to see it filled at last, the young mare she loves so much having come back into her life.” Her smile grew. “You can’t know how happy that makes me.” Sunset smiled back at her, and the two of them embraced. Celestia looked on happily at both her former charges, and Princess Twilight beamed. Human-born Twilight smiled as well, delighted at her fiancé’s newfound happiness. From around them, scattered applause sprang forth from the crowd, and even the engineer looked back at the royal party with a smile. Meanwhile, birds flew a little lower, singing happily as the two broke apart again. For her part, Sunrise observed the scene, looking around herself with quiet appreciation. The sunlight seemed just a little brighter, the breeze just a little more fragrant. And all the ponies around them – friends, family, even strangers – seemed just a little closer to one another than they had been before. Herself included. So, Sunrise thought. This is the Princess of Love. . A short time later they were all in the Castle of Friendship, enjoying tea and cake together. After some cajoling, Spike had agreed to join them, happily sprinkling bits of ruby onto his cake and pouring immense amounts of sugar into his tea. The stream of conversation meandered, split and reunited again, and occasionally dissolved into friendly laughter. Eventually, the discussion turned to Equestrian history. And, inevitably... “Well, Star Swirl the Bearded is the ultimate high bar for unicorn magic, of course,” Princess Twilight observed. “Until recently perhaps,” Celestia nodded with a smile. “I do believe he has some competition in modern times.” One of Princess Twilight’s ears went flat. “Really? Who?” “Of course, each of the Pillars was the high water mark for their own Element,” Sunset said. “Indeed,” Luna nodded. “One would be hard pressed to find such ponies again, even a thousand years later.” “Wait, who?” the human Twilight asked. “Excuse my butting in, but... who were the Pillars? Were they rulers? Heroes?” “Champions,” said Celestia. “And stalwart friends.” “Especially Star Swirl,” Luna added. “First a pupil, then a mentor. But always a friend.” Yet there was a melancholy that seemed to have overtaken both the sisters. “I’m sorry,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Did I say something wrong?” “No, dear one,” Celestia said. “It’s just that, though the Pillars were wise and valiant, their tale ends in terrible tragedy.” Luna took another sip. “Time has blunted the pain, in a sense,” she said. “But one never stops mourning dear friends, even as one never stops celebrating their lives.” Celestia sighed. “Rockhoof. Mistmane.” “Somnambula. Meadowbrook,” Luna added quietly. “Flash Magnus.” “Star Swirl.” As one, the sisters drank, then put their cups down, contemplating the leaves within. “Stygian,” they said. For a moment, the room was silent. Then, Luna glanced at Sunrise. “You seem confused, dear one,” she said. “Um.” Sunrise looked at her uncertainly. “Well, a little, yeah. But I don’t want to intrude...” As one, the sisters shook off the melancholy of centuries. “It’s no intrusion,” Celestia said. “You sure?” Both sisters nodded. “Please,” Luna said. “ask.” “Well, okay...” Sunrise ran a hoof along her stripe of a mane, then said, “It’s just, well, I had thought there were only six elements. Even then.” Princess Twilight poured them all some more tea. “Well, technically, yes. But remember that Stygian wasn’t exactly one of the Pillars.” “Oh. Well, who was he then?” Silence. Aside from Sunset and her fiancé, every pair of eyes was staring at Sunrise, completely thunderstruck. For her part, Sunrise was feeling more and more like she had just desecrated a shrine with every second. Finally, Princess Twilight found her voice. “Are you... serious?” Sunset looked at the youngest princess. “Twilight, my world doesn’t have a Stygian’s Lament. Or his story. Nothing even close.” Princess Twilight stared between the two otherworldly twins, realization dawning, even as the other princesses exchanged looks of shock. “Oh,” she managed quietly. “Oh, my gosh.” Sunset nodded. “Yeah.” Meanwhile, Sunrise and Twilight looked from Princess Twilight to Sunset and back, their confusion growing. Finally, Sunrise asked, “Okay... Is it cool if somepony clues me in, here?” Sunset looked at the youngest alicorn. “Traditionally, it’s really more Twilight’s place to tell you about this.” The Princess of Friendship nodded. “Yeah. I had thought we’d talk about this later, but you’re right, this can’t wait.” She turned to her student, saying, “Sunrise, would you come with me, please?” Sunrise looked around, then back to her mentor. “You mean right… now?” “Please.” “Yyyeah, okay,” Sunrise blinked. “Sure.” She followed her mentor, giving the pegasus Twilight a shrug of helpless confusion. Once the door closed behind them, Twilight Sparkle turned to the ponies around her. “So, is this something I’m permitted to know?” “Of course,” said Cadence, taking another sip. “Especially in light of your interest in Equestrian culture.” Celestia looked to her daughter. ”Sunset, would you care to do the honors?” Sunset nodded. “Sure.” She set her own cup down, levitated a small sandwich closer. “Okay, to put this in context, you have to understand: the ponies this concerns, talking about them is kind of like talking about the crew of the Argos… only if they were all verifiable historical figures. Literally the six greatest heroes of the world – wizards, warriors, and healers – all teamed up in one group. Now, picture if they’d been led by Merlin, instead of Jason.” Twilight nodded. “Okay, impressive so far.” “Right. Now, imagine if instead of stealing a magical artifact, they were repeatedly defending their world from unspeakable dangers. Their efforts literally saved the known world multiple times. They also helped shape pony society, and established or strengthened many of the political ties between ponies and other speaking folk that still exist today.” The pegasus frowned. “Okay. And, Stygian was one of them?” Sunset shook her head. “Not exactly. You see…” . Sunrise followed Twilight back into the sanctum, feeling more uneasy with each step. This was some kind of lesson, obviously, but that didn’t explain why Twilight seemed so grim. Nor did it explain why Twilight closed the doors behind them with magic, and barred them. Yeah, Sunrise thought. Not good. “Um, Twilight? What’s going on?” “You’ve read about the Pillars of Old Equestria, of course,” Twilight said. Sunrise frowned. “You know I have.” “Well, you’ve only read the basics. Their great deeds, Star Swirl’s power and brilliance, et cetera. And that’s my fault, I only gave you a basic starting itinerary. And Stygian wasn’t in those books.” “So, was he an enemy of theirs? I never found out what happened to them, at the end…” “No, it wasn’t anything like that. He was their friend.” “And? What happened?” “It’s… not an easy story to tell,” Twilight admitted. “Especially when you’ve spent as long researching Star Swirl’s work and life as I have. He was brilliant, dedicated, a master magician in every way…” Then, she sighed. “…except for this,” she finished. . “Stygian was a scholar,” Twilight explained. “A master of lore, a brilliant researcher, and a battle tactician. It was Stygian who first recognized the need for the Pillars to unite, and it was Stygian who brought them together into an unstoppable team. “But he wasn’t a fighter, or a magician. Although he was a unicorn, even the most rudimentary telekinesis was almost impossible for him. And he wasn’t physically strong, despite Rockhoof’s best attempts to help him train. All he had was his mind. “That being said, his mind was incredibly powerful. Some sources claim he had a memory comparable to that of Princess Celestia’s, though there’s no way that’s anything but exaggeration. But he did have an ability to correlate ideas and create new ones that put even Star Swirl’s brilliance to shame. He was also a mathematician and architect, and could speak several languages fluently. It was Stygian who introduced the Pillars to other cultures, and smoothed over conflicts as they traveled the world. He was even a good writer, and a fair poet. “But his body was too frail to actually go into battle. He wouldn’t have survived. And like I said, though he could research and advise on any spell of his time – second only to Star Swirl, of course – he couldn’t cast them. Star Swirl referred to his situation once as a cruel joke the universe had played at Stygian’s expense. He could give counsel, and put together plans that saved the day countless times… but only from the shadows.” Sunrise considered this. “Hm. Did he name himself, or was he given that name at birth?” “The records don’t say. But they do state how, as the fame of the Pillars grew, they started ignoring his advice. Sometimes with bad results. And even when it seemed to go alright… well, ask Sunset to tell you about the sirens sometime. Stygian wanted the Pillars to talk with them, and even offered to negotiate with them himself. He was ignored. Instead, Star Swirl used a spell that he’d created to banish them to Sunset’s world. “According to Star Swirl, that’s when Stygian probably started his own secret research, away from the Pillars.” Twilight sighed. “They were so caught up in everything else, they didn’t even notice him becoming more distant, spending more time apart from them. Later, when he stopped traveling with them, they took the news with a sigh of relief. In his last journal entries Star Swirl even notes how, in hindsight, he’d partially pushed Stygian into his later actions, by discounting his contributions and neglecting their friendship.” Sunrise stared. “His last journal entries? Holy crap. Did Stygian… kill them?” But Twilight shook her head. “No. He didn’t. But they caught him, months later, trying to steal personal artifacts of power from them. “And so, they… repudiated him. They banished him from their number. Star Swirl goes into some detail about what was said, and by whom. And in hindsight, it was pretty cruel. Granted, they thought their friend had betrayed them, and was stealing their possessions so he could steal their abilities. She gave a helpless shrug. “And theoretically, he could have. Sorcery or not, the stallion was brilliant. But they also should have known better.” “So, he hadn’t betrayed them,” Sunrise said. “And they still turned him out. Damn, that’s horrible. So, what was he trying to do, then? Do we know?” “Yeah,” the princess said sadly. “He told them.” . It was a fine full moon above the Pillars’ camp as they celebrated their latest victory in the refreshing autumn breeze. The dragon had been strong, especially for her age. But she had also been arrogant, and they had easily brought her down. Even Stygian’s shadow was slender as it fell across their camp from the cliffside above, the harvester’s moon bright behind him. His scholar’s cape rippled slightly in the wind, his short mane in greater than usual disarray. The six heroes glanced up at the interruption, then fell silent, their eyes narrowing into identical expressions of distrust. “What dost thou want here, Stygian?” Star Swirl demanded, spitting the other stallion’s name like a curse. The small stallion looked down on them all, his face shrouded in shadow. His voice low and strained. “I came to say I’m sorry,” he said. Features softening, Mistmane took a step forward. Star Swirl, still scowling, held out an arm to stop the elderly mare. “’Tis a trap,” he said. But Stygian shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “No trap. I know I cannot be forgiven. But I had to try.” His voice became weak as he continued, “To… to atone.” “Atone?” Somnambula demanded. “For betraying us?” “For trying to steal our ability to help others?” Meadowbrook snapped. “For thy weakness of heart?” Rockhoof frowned. “Thy cowardice?” Flash Magnus snarled. “Stygian” Mistmane said, “I want to believe thee. But, how can we trust thee now? Or ever again?” “You can’t, of course,” Stygian nodded sadly. “I understand that.” He coughed slightly, then wiped something from his mouth. “There are some transgressors who cannot be forgiven,” he went on. “Who have placed themselves beyond trust or redemption. Even as I have done. Yet, I had hoped—” He was cut off by a sudden, terrible fit of coughs that wracked his body. Losing his balance, still coughing, Stygian fell, rolling down the cliff side. With a cry, Meadowbrook ran to him, meeting him even as he came to rest at the cliff’s base. The others, even Star Swirl, were close behind her. The healer caught him as he came to rest, cradling his head in her lap. The blood on the small pony’s face was plain to see now, as was the blood on his hoof where he had wiped it away. In the silvery moonlight, it seemed almost black. “I had hoped…” his voice trailed off. Then he shuddered, and was still. Meadowbrook looked to Starswirl, eyes full of tears. She opened her mouth to speak, when a radiance began to glow from within Stygian’s body, illuminating the campsite. “Look out!” Star Swirl reflexively threw up a series of defenses, encasing each of the Pillars in a mystic shield of silver, proof against any magical attack. But there was no attack. Stygian’s body shimmered, dissolved, then burst into a rainbow of tiny luminescent spheres. They swirled for an instant around where he had been, then, as if carried by unfelt winds, scattered in all directions. All, save for six, which drifted effortlessly through Star Swirl’s protections and into the hearts of each pony there. Star Swirl could hear Stygian’s words clearly. Gentle and soft, he could have heard them over a thunderclap. I’m sorry I stole thy book, Stygian’s voice echoed from within the magician’s heart. It was foolish, and wrong. I never wanted to take thy power away from thee. Only to understand it better, to copy it, to emulate what had allowed thee to help so many others. I’m sorry I never told thee how much thy friendship meant to me. All I ever wanted was to stand with thee, to fight by thy side. I admired you all so much. And in my desperation, I drove you away. I’m so sorry. Then, the glow faded into nothingness, Stygian’s voice silenced forever. Stricken, Star Swirl looked up at his companions. Their eyes mirrored his own anguish, his own horror. The rest of the night was spent in silence. There was nothing left to say. . “…and that was the first casting of Stygian’s Lament,” Twilight finished. Sunrise stared at her mentor. “God… damn.” Twilight nodded. “The Pillars drifted apart after that. Their camaraderie had already been broken, really, through their dismissal of Stygian’s efforts. But his death was the final straw. Their hearts just weren’t in it, anymore. For most of them, their final fates remain unknown.” “But not Star Swirl,” Sunrise prompted. Twilight gave a weak smile. “No,” she said. “Not Star Swirl. “At first, Star Swirl went out of his way to make certain that the truth about Stygian was known. After he destroyed all the notes on the spell, of course. He wanted to make things right, or at least as right as he could. So he traveled across Equestria, telling the story of his dead friend and how he had failed him. He hoped that maybe somepony else would learn from his mistakes, and not repeat them. “But Star Swirl had underestimated how easy it could be to re-create the spell, once there was a detailed description of the effects. After all: for him, all magic was easy. He didn’t realize his mistake until he started hearing stories about other ponies, dying in the same way. Especially ponies in their teens. And most of all, he heard about the heartache they left behind. “Star Swirl realized that he had not only made a terrible mistake, but instead of fixing it had compounded it further. He also realized that, once that knowledge was loose, there was nothing he could do to restrain it. Left unchecked, Stygian’s Lament would become a tradition among ponykind, a ritualized magical suicide. In fact, it had already started to. “So, Star Swirl met with Celestia and Luna one final time. They had tea together… and then, he stepped through one of his mirrors, never to be seen again. But as he stepped through, he asked them to intervene in the matter of Stygian’s Lament. Not as his mentors or his students, or even as his friends, but as the diarchs of Equestria. “And, they did. Neither Luna nor Celestia is much into giving royal decrees. But the following day, in unison, they gave two. “The first was a forbiddance of all research into Stygian’s Lament, no matter the cause or reason. Any who tried - no matter their age or circumstance - were to be immediately brought before Princess Luna for judgement, regardless of the hour.” Sunrise smiled a little. “Yeah, that sounds a lot like ‘Let’s get these kids some counseling.’” “In a lot of cases, I’m sure it was. But the second decree was a mandate to establish a new tradition of their own. A tradition in which the story of Stygian’s Lament is shared as part of a teaching lesson for every foal, everywhere. And that tradition has continued, from that day to this.” “So, is that why forgiveness is such a big deal around here?” Sunrise asked. “The fear of suicide?” Twilight shook her head. “No, it’s not that. Celestia and Luna have always ruled with an emphasis on compassion, forgiveness, and understanding. The problem is the circumstances under which Stygian’s Lament is cast. And that, well, it’s such a simple spell in the first place.” Sunrise looked at her incredulously. “Simple? With those kinds of results?” Twilight nodded. “Sir James Friesian’s Law of Sympathy demands that the regrets binding the caster with other ponies would be drawn to them, once the caster no longer existed. The intensity of each emotional connection would guarantee it. Like a bunch of rubber bands stretched from a center point, and then let go, to snap outwards in a radius. “And the spell automatically devours the caster – using up their net potential energy to create the spheres of light that carry those regrets through the Law of Contagion – because of the emotional content of the casting itself.” She shuddered. “You could almost call it a natural process, if it weren’t so horrific.” Sunrise frowned. “But, wouldn’t it be hard to cast, then? The energy involved, I mean, you’re converting matter and life force into—” But Twilight shook her head. “Think of it as a kind of critical mass, like in the doomsday weapons where you come from. The energy source to start the process is specific, and you do need a tremendous amount of it. But once that source is in place, it only needs a spark of will and knowledge to start it off. And once started, it’s a chain reaction. It just carries on until it runs itself out.” “Okay, so… what’s the energy source?” “Remember how we’ve been talking about the relationship between emotion and magic?” “Uh-huh.” “So, tell me something about that.” Sunrise closed her eyes. “Magic is a question of will, but not of will alone,” she recited. “The greater the knowledge, the more powerful the magician. The greater the passion, the stronger the spell. Passion is the light, knowledge the lens that directs and focuses that light. Yet all of this is only possible through the magician’s will.” Twilight cocked her head. “Who said that?” “Canterus Agrippa,” Sunrise smiled. “I probably misquoted him, though.” “Not a work I’m familiar with. From Sunset’s world?” “Yeah.” Twilight nodded with approval, her face still serious. “I’ll need to ask Sunset about him. It’ll be interesting comparing the stuff you’ve read to the works of his counterpart here. Still, whether you misquoted him or not, you’re right. So, logically, what emotion would simultaneously set the stage for a spell like this, and fuel it?” Sunrise thought for a moment, then paled. “Despair,” she said. “Absolute, crippling, self-devouring despair.” “Yeah,” Twilight said, quietly. “Exactly.” . “Despair is one of the only two emotions that have no positive application in magic… the other being, of course, hatred,” Twilight went on. “Neither hatred nor despair have any place in beneficial magic. “But despair is more dangerous than hatred, because it sneaks up on you. It skews your perceptions without you realizing it until it’s too late. The more powerful the despair, the more overpowering the shift in perceptions, and the greater the emotional power available. Which means that by the time a pony is in a state of mind to actually cast Stygian’s Lament – in whatever form – they’ve already got everything they need to do it.” Twilight shrugged. “Technically, you also need some basic metaphysical theory to re-create the spell. But, we’re talking grade school stuff. Nothing more. “And like I said, you don’t need to be a unicorn to cast the spell,” Twilight continued sadly. “It’s too basic, too elemental. Every pony has magic within them, more than most creatures across the world. Pegasi fly and walk on clouds, and influence the weather. Earth ponies have their special relationship with life and the earth. And yes, unicorns have sorcery. But anypony can tap into their own inner magic. Which means that anypony can destroy themselves. Because, while the emotion and focus start the process, it’s the pony’s very life force that is ultimately consumed by the spell. Right down to their physicality, until nothing is left at all. “Which… brings us to now.” Sunrise shifted uneasily as Twilight stepped up to her. “You asked if this was why our society is so focused on forgiveness. And no, it isn’t. But Stygian’s Lament is the reason why talks like this are so important. Why everypony has this kind of talk at least once in their lives. Usually with their parents, before they even start school. “Because Stygian didn’t have to die. Nopony who has ever cast that spell – in any form – ever did. Because, in the grand scheme of things, there’s no such thing as an unforgivable crime.” Sunrise raised an eyebrow. “Really.” But Twilight nodded. “Really. Look at Discord’s history, sometime… at least, what little is known of it. Or, well… any number of ponies. Think of how different the world would be if they hadn’t been forgiven, or if they couldn’t be.” Sunrise nodded slowly, thinking of another alicorn in her life. “In Ponish, ‘repair’ and ‘repent’ have the same root word,” Twilight went on. “And there’s a reason for that. If you wrong somepony, you do need to make up for it. Granted, most times, it isn’t that hard. But sometimes, it is. In the rarest instances, it might take a lifetime. Maybe several. Just the same, even if you will never be able to truly make up for something you did, you still have to try. Because suicide repairs exactly nothing. And without making up for what was done, there is no penance. There’s only more pain. “And nopony, no creature, anywhere, is beyond mercy and compassion. No crime is unforgivable, so long as there is genuine penance. Which means no one is irredeemable. Anyone can be forgiven. Pony, human, whatever.” She looked at Sunrise. “Anyone.” Sunrise nodded. “Got it.” But Twilight shook her head. “No, I don’t think you do. Sorry, but I need you to say it. Out loud. Right now.” Sunrise frowned in confusion. “Say what?” “Anyone can be forgiven.” Sunrise looked dubious. “Um…” “Say, ‘anyone can be forgiven.’” “Why are you…?” “Anyone can be forgiven. Say it.” “But—” Twilight stepped forward into Sunrise’s space with a strange intensity. “Anyone. Can be. Forgiven.” Sunrise stepped back, looking around uncertainly. The colors around her seemed strangely more vivid, the shadows somehow vanishing without any increase in light. The books seemed more real, with a presence and gravity all their own, even as the light crystals flared in their sconces and the walls curved strangely, the shelves’ corners smoothing into a continual arc around them. Minerva was awake now, staring around herself in sheer terror. Sunrise forced herself to face the princess again. “Uh, Twilight, this is getting—” Twilight took another step forward. “Say it,” she snarled. The walls and bookshelves arched over both of them unnaturally, the ceiling slowly rising upwards with a groan. Everything was impossibly vivid, impossibly detailed. More real, somehow, than any living thing could ever be. Sunrise’s flank butted against a table. She gasped at the contact, half-expecting to phase through it, insubstantial as any ghost. Above Twilight’s head, the geodic patterns of the sanctum walls churned like an angry sea. “Twilight—” “Say it!” “I—” Twilight’s eyes flared with a white light as she roared with the voice of an enraged sphinx, “Damn you to very Tartarus, Sunrise Shimmer, SAY IT!” Sunrise’s eyes went wide. “Anyone can be forgiven!” For a moment, the two of them stood, staring at each other. Twilight, still radiating a power that Sunrise had never thought possible. Sunrise, still staring at Twilight as she pressed against the table behind her. Then, her eyes fading back into their usual violet, Twilight looked away, sat back on her haunches. The room silently returned to the state it had been, its otherworldly vividness and dimensions fading away. There was a fluttering sound as the owl flew out a newly-opened window, vanishing into the daylight. “I’m…” Twilight started, then shook her head and looked at her hooves. “No, I won’t apologize. I can’t. Even if you never learn anything else from me, if this is honestly all you ever get from me, then… mission accomplished.” Sunrise studied her friend, still a little uneasy. “Are you… okay?” “Yeah.” But Twilight’s voice was a little strained as she continued looking down. “Twilight, I don’t understand. What…?” Twilight took a shuddering breath. Then she spoke again, still addressing the floor. “I had this talk twice, actually. It’s part of learning unicorn magic. Once with your parents, and then once when you’re older, with your magic teacher. After all, using sorcery means your mistakes have a greater chance of affecting others. Much greater. “My second talk was with Celestia.” Tears struck the floor tiles as Twilight went on, “I‘d just entered her apprenticeship. I was nine. And she… she really scared the crap out of me. I don’t think I ever really got just why she was so intense about it, until today. But yeah, the idea of somepony you care about, someone you love, not understanding that is,” she swallowed, then managed, “completely and absolutely terrifying.” Finally, she looked up at Sunrise, cheeks wet, her face full of misery. “And I am sorry that I scared you…” In an instant, Sunrise had grabbed her and was hugging her tightly. “It’s okay,” she said. As Twilight hugged her back, she added, “I just didn’t know you cared that much. It never occurred to me you could. That’s all.” And then, after a pause, “I love you too.” Twilight sniffed a little as they continued hugging. “Also,” Sunrise teased when they parted enough for eye contact, “You can be a seriously scary broad when you put your mind to it.” That, at least, got a laugh. “Just saying,” Sunrise winked, bringing more laughter through Twilight’s tears. Still laughing, they both hugged again. It took a little while for them both to regain their composure, and longer still before they felt truly ready to return to the party. As they approached the tea room. they could the voices echoing merrily from within. Opening the door, they found Spike asleep in Sunset’s lap while she chatted happily with Cadence, even as human-born Twilight was excitedly discussing astronomy and astrophysics with Luna and Celestia. Looking at them, at that moment, one would never know they had not lived together, grown together for years. Or even all their lives. Sunrise and Princess Twilight exchanged a smile. The royal family, it seemed, had indeed grown. Author's Note . . . . . . This chapter - and by extension, this entire story - was inspired by Parting, by Wanderer D. If you haven’t checked out their stories already, please do.
7: Rebirth.. That night, Sunset and Sunrise again found themselves at the balcony, contemplating the night sky. “Are you going to be okay?” Sunset asked. “Sure.” Sunset gave her a look. Sunrise sighed, ran a hoof along her mohawk. “I guess. It’s just… it’s a lot.” “Yeah. I remember.” “With Celestia? Yeah, I can only imagine. Still, just dealing with Twilight on Bald Mountain…” Sunrise shook her head. “That was… wow.” Sunset glanced at her. “Really pulled out the stops, huh?” “Christ, I hope so.” Sunset chuckled a little. “Yeah, I hear you.” “Right. So, anyway, still processing.” “That’s fair. But… okay, look, this may be prying,” Sunset said, “and if it is, say so and I’ll back off. But is that what’s really getting you?” “Well, no,” Sunrise admitted. “And it’s not prying. Not from you. It’s just…” She sighed again, then went on, “Twilight’s talk was all about penance and balancing scales. And I get that, I guess. But how can I make up for what I did? Even if we lived in the same world, I’m not a surgeon. And I can’t take away the nightmares she’s bound to be having.” Sunset studied her for a moment. “What?” “Let me make sure I understand the problem,” Sunset said. “You’re learning unicorn magic from Princess Twilight – a process that takes years – so you can help and protect the innocent. And in the fall, you’re going to be working as an assistant teacher, guiding and guarding Ponyville’s foals.” “And helping them not make my mistakes, I hope,” Sunrise added. “Right. And now, you’re trying to figure out what you could do to make up for those mistakes.” “Exactly! You’ve got to admit, I’ve kind of landed in the clover here.” Sunset simply nodded, keeping her face as straight as possible. “Well, I’m sure something will come up,” she said. Sunrise rolled her eyes. “Great. Thanks.” Sunset grinned. “I’m here for you.” And then, her face serious again, she reached over, placing her hoof on Sunset’s arm. “Seriously,” she said. “I am here for you.” Sunrise smiled a little, putting her own hoof on Sunset’s. “Hey. Me, too.” They stood, and hugged. “You guys ever need anything,” Sunrise said into her twin’s mane, “and I mean anything…” “…we’ll call.” “Promise?” Sunset squeezed a little harder. “I promise.” . The following morning, the Twilights had already left to get more flying in before breakfast. So, Sunset and Sunrise had decided to wander around Ponyville for a while, maybe visit Sweet Apple Acres. But as they stepped out into the early daylight... “SURPRIIIIISE!” Pinkie cheered, arms and rear legs splayed out as balloons burst upwards in all directions. Sunset glanced around with huge eyes at the collection of banners, balloons, confections, and various ponies munching, talking, and enjoying themselves. The largest banner of them all, stretching across the street in front of the Castle of Friendship, read WELCOME SUNSET! in giant, friendly letters. Meanwhile, a marching band happily oom-paah’d its way back and forth in front of the castle doors, even as fireworks began to explode overhead. “Ummmm… thanks?” Sunset managed. “You’re welcome!” Pinkie bounced. “This is your Happy-Welcome-To-Your-Home-Away-From-Home-Sorry-About-The-Confetti party!” “Oh,” Sunset nodded. “Sure. That makes sense.” Sunrise looked at her. “It does?” Sunset shrugged. “Well, I’ve had practice.” “Oh.” Sunrise considered her brief observations of Sunset’s human friends for a moment. “Yeah, okay, I can see that.” “Anyway,” Pinkie went on, “there’s games, puzzles, prizes, treats, and – most important of all – no confetti! I added more balloons to make up the difference,” she added with a wink. “Why no confetti?” Sunrise asked. “The hard part was figuring out how to fire them out of my party cannon without—oh, because of Sunset of course, silly,” Pinkie giggled. “I’d forgotten that her Pinkie’s confetti explodes on contact before. “Which, by the way, sorry about that,” she added to Sunset. “I never meant to startle you. Not like that, anyway.” “Oh, um, that’s okay,” said Sunset, feeling more confused by the minute. “But Pinkie, where did you get all these balloons?” Sunrise marveled. “It’s like you filled the whole town with them.” The three of them made their way to a confection cart hovering about a foot off the ground, wading their way through the knee-high layers of balloons filling the streets as they did. Here and there, foals and a few older ponies burrowed, jumped, rolled and played in the multi-coloured orbs as though Ponyville had become a giant ball pit. The cart was one of several which were held off the ground by bunches of floating balloons tied to its corners. On the cart itself were trays of cupcakes and tiny pies, all shaped like balloons. While the Sunnies were selecting munchies, Pinkie said, “Well, you have to catch them when they’re small, of course. If they’re too old, they’re almost impossible to wrangle, especially in numbers like these.” The unicorns exchanged an amused look. “Go on,” Sunrise said. “Fortunately, the mother balloons are really, really stupid,” Pinkie continued, selecting an apple berry cupcake for herself. “I mean, they’re big and strong, and they’re more agile than they look, but they’re also dumb as rocks. So once you find a nest, harvesting the baby balloons is pretty easy.” She paused, considering. “Of course, you always have to leave a few behind, to keep the species going. That’s just ecologically responsible.” “Of course,” Sunset said dryly, looking around at the decorations. “Really, the hardest part is keeping the young balloons under wraps until you’re ready for the party,” Pinkie nodded as she munched. “They’re really skittish. And in large numbers, if something spooks them, they’ll stampede.” She took another bite, adding, “And believe me, if you’ve never seen a balloon stampede, you don’t wanna.” “Right,” said Sunrise. “Wait a minute!” Sunset’s head whipped around to stare at Pinkie Pie. “How did you know my Pinkie’s confetti explodes?” “I thought for a while about opening up my own balloon ranch, years ago,” Pinkie mused, ignoring her. “But there were just too many complications. Not even counting the amount of land and clouds you need to graze them properly, the branding practices for an adolescent balloon are—oh, no!” The unicorns glanced where Pinkie was pointing, and then simply stared in sheer confusion. For there, half-lumbering, half-bouncing down the street towards them, was the single largest balloon either of them had ever seen. It filled half the street, its chromatically-swirled elastic skin rippling and warping as it approached. Sometimes, it bounced off its smaller kin, other times it scattered them before its massive girth. But always, it moved along an almost straight line, its true target unmistakable. “It’s the mother balloon!” Pinkie Pie screamed. “She found me! Run!” While the other party-goers laughed and rolled or jumped out of the way, Pinkie Pie fled for dear life, scattering multcolored balloons in all directions. Meanwhile, the polychromatic giant behind her gave its hulking chase, bounding over Sunset and Sunrise as it did. In a moment, Pinkie was gone, her buoyant pursuer close behind, her screams fading into the distance. Sunrise and Sunset simply stood, still unmoving, staring in the direction where she had fled, identical expressions of bewilderment on both their faces. “I… feel like there’s a lot to unpack, here,” Sunrise said at last. “Uh-huh.” “You… feel like starting in on that?” Sunset slowly shook her head. “Not even remotely.” . The rest of Sunset and Twilight’s visit, while certainly not as exciting, was nonetheless well-spent. Sometimes, the young mares paired up with their counterparts. These were frankly Sunrise’s favorite times. In many ways, it was like getting to know the sister she’d never known she’d wanted. They might spend hours wandering Canterlot. Sunset would point out various sights of the capital, talking about the history of the place and how it had changed since she’d lived there. Sunrise, on the other hand, would take Sunset about town in Ponyville. There fewer sights to see, of course. But that also gave a kind of relaxed air to such times, and they happily wandered without much of a plan, chatting as they went. And in all cases, Spike was always welcome. The three of them happily conversed and joked for hours at a time, occasionally hanging out with Princess Twilight’s fellow Elements as well. The hatchling would have been welcomed by both mares regardless. But it still remained: sister or not, it was still a lot easier with other things to do, and other people around. Meanwhile, of course, the Twilights would fly everywhere they could, following a precise and detailed itinerary to allow them to cram in as much shared knowledge, fun, and flying as efficiently as possible. On the other hoof, sometimes the engaged couple would head out to explore and see the sights, just the two of them. This left the Castle of Friendship denizens more or less going back to their usual routines, with Twilight researching and seeing to her royal duties, Sunrise studying and practicing her magic, and Spike cooking, organizing, visiting friends - mostly Rarity - and occasionally giving Sunrise some friendly teasing while she practiced. The rest of the time, the four of them would split up into cross-dimensional Sunny and Twilight teams. During these times, Princess Twilight and Sunset would leave the Castle of Friendship to visit various friends. Sometimes they visited Twilight’s fellow Elements, other times they spent time with the other princesses. Sunrise and Twilight Sparkle, meanwhile, would spend their time in Princess Twilight’s great library. The first such occasion found each of them with small stacks of books, quietly reading as they reclined in opposite ends of the place, Spike contentedly puttering about as they did. Eventually, Twilight Sparkle broke the silence. “Hey, Sunrise,” the pegasus ventured at last. “You know, I’ve been seeing Princess Luna in my dreams a lot. By which I mean, literally every night since I got here.” Sunrise seemed very engrossed in her book. “Mmm.” Twilight cleared her throat a little, then said, “That’s not… usual, is it?” The unicorn buried her muzzle deeper into her book. “Sunrise?” Eventually, Sunrise spoke in a quiet voice, “When I heard you were coming… I, um… sort of asked her to keep an eye out for you while you were here,” She swallowed, then went on, “I’m sorry, I know I should have cleared something like that with you first. I just…” Her voice trailed off into silence, her face hidden by the tome’s ancient cover. Sunrise heard the rustle of wings as Twilight rose from where she lay. Sunrise tried not to cringe as she heard the soft hooffalls approaching, and ultimately stop beside her. “Hey?” Sunrise looked up. Twilight Sparkle’s smile was nervous, but genuine. “Thank you,” she said. Her eyes sad, Sunrise smiled back. “Any time,” she said. Twilight Sparkle lay down next to her, back to back. She opened her book, and continued reading. After a moment, Sunrise went back to her own book, as well. The pain that hung between them was powerful, and wouldn’t die easily. But in the days that followed, the long periods of relaxed quiet - interspersed with the occasional word or smile - seemed to give them both a kind of reassurance. It wouldn’t be today, or tomorrow. But someday, they would heal the wounds between them. And so the remaining days passed quickly in the Castle of Friendship. Until, all too soon, the day of the humans’ departure was upon them at last. . “Uuuuggghh.” The kitchen was much smaller in the Castle of Friendship than in Canterlot Palace, its freezer therefore also of lesser size. But Princess Twilight, like her former teacher, kept it well stocked with ice cream. And with Sunrise living there, the old stockpile of specialty ice cream from generations before had been delivered shortly after Sunrise’s talk with Celestia. Now, sitting across from Sunset in the spacious dining room, Sunrise stared. “How can you say that?” she demanded. “This is your flavor. You loved this!” “Sure, when I was twelve.” Sunset pushed the bowl away, still making a face. “This is all you.” Sunrise cocked an amused eyebrow as she accepted the bowl, scraping its contents into her own. “Okay, so, what do you like now? Rocky road and ghost pepper?” “Cherry.” “Cherry?” “Mm-hm. I’ll be right back.” While Sunset rummaged in the walk-in, Sunrise continued to shake her head, mouthing the word, cherry? Then, the door to the freezer flew open again, Sunset holding a five-gallon tub aloft. “Victory!” she cried. Sunrise gave a lopsided grin as her twin heaped scoops of the pink confection into her bowl, then took the first bite with a long sigh of pure bliss. “You know, come to think of it,” Sunrise mused, “when I was a kid, I used to love cherry ice cream. It’s funny.” Then, with a mischievous look, she recited, “But, doth not the appetite alter? A mare loves the meal in her youth that she cannot endure in her age.” While Sunset snickered, Sunrise continued, “Shall quips and sentences and these paper arrows of the brain awe a mare from the career of her humor?” Then both mares stood and leaned over the table to gleefully shout in unison, “No! The world must be ponied!” After a moment of giggling, Sunset said, “We need help. Like, years of professional therapy.” “Or at least another bowl or two,” Sunrise agreed, scooting the pink container closer to her. “Oh,” Sunset reached for the ice cream scoop. “At least.” . A few minutes later, Sunrise looked around. “You know, it’s kind of quiet. Where is everypony?” “Spike’s at Rarity’s, and the Twilights are getting in as much last-minute flying as they can before we leave.” “More flying?” Sunrise asked. “Is she going to be able to even move tomorrow?” “I think that’s part of the plan,” Sunset observed. “She’s curious as to whether she spontaneously developed new muscle mass when she got wings, or just enlarged and polymorphed old sets of muscles to additional tasks.” “So, if she has muscle pains corresponding to her wing strain, she knows her previously existing muscular structure was adapted?” Sunrise shook her head. “Man, what she’ll do for science.” “Well, I think it’s also an excuse to fly more.” “Yeah,” Sunrise nodded sagely. “No blame.” After a few moments of contemplation, Sunrise said, “I have a potentially awkward question.” “Okay.” Sunrise swallowed another bite, then asked, “Did you set me up for the talk with Twilight on purpose?” Sunset started to reply, and then stopped, thinking. “I mean, I’m not mad,” Sunrise assured her. “But I’ve been meaning to bring this up for a while, you know? You did kind of steer the discussion towards history, and then…” Uncomfortable, Sunset nodded. “Yeah, um…” she looked away. “Maybe? I mean, I’m… not completely sure.” She leaned her chin on her hoof, contemplating another spoonful of ice cream. “I certainly could have. I used to push people’s buttons all the time. Not something I’m proud of, but there it is.” She sighed. “So… yeah, maybe. And if I did, I’m really sorry.” Sunrise shook her head. “It’s okay, I get it. I used to hustle all the time. But I didn’t want us to part ways without talking about this. Because looking back, I think I might have done the same thing.” Sunset looked at her quizzically for a moment, then frowned. “You mean, when you sent the message?” “Yeah. At the time, it just seemed the right thing to do. But then I started thinking, what did I think you would do? What was I expecting to happen? And then I started wondering…” “…how much was my right to know, and how much was just bad habits?” Sunset nodded. “Yeah. I get that. But at the same time, you weren’t trying to play me. And it’s not like you got anything out of it.” Sunrise gave her a fond smile. “Well, I kind of did.” Sunset returned the smile. “Well, okay, me too. But you know what I mean.” “Yeah.” “So, I guess in the future we’ll just have to be more careful,” Sunset considered. “It is something to watch out for, so that we don’t keep doing it. But all in all, good things came from it – at least this time – and we meant well, so… no harm, no foul?” Sunrise thought, then nodded. “I think so. At least, I’m good if you are.” “I’m good. So, friends?” “Yeah. Friends.” Sunset took another bite, then held up her bowl. “Works in progress?” Grinning despite herself, Sunrise clinked her bowl against Sunset’s. “Works in progress.”
Epilogue: New Beginnings.. Twilight happily flopped on the bed, spread-eagled. Right after a long and luxurious shower, there was probably nothing better than clean sheets and flannel pyjamas. Well, okay, having hands again was on the list, too. But, still. Jammas. With a long sigh of pure luxury, she lay there for a moment, eyes closed. Then, she half-rolled over to glance at Sunset, just sitting down at her desktop. “What’s up?” “I’m thinking of checking in with the rest of the girls. We’ve been gone over a week, local time.” “It’s late,” Twilight observed. “They’re probably all asleep.” Just the same, she rolled the rest of the way over and started tugging her laptop towards her. She’d built it herself, and still tinkered with it now and then. One of the first things she’d put into its design was a faster start-up. As soon as the screen lit up, she started typing. DaVinciGirl: Anybody else still awake? Sunset gave her a pretend sour look, eliciting the grin that she loved so well. Meanwhile, her own Eris finished loading, giving the familiar chime of a response. Appleseed1988: you coukldn’t slep eighther? Sunset’s fingers flew over the keys. NoHornNeeded: Nah, we just got back. NoHornNeeded: What about you? Appleseed1988: somethin woke me up caint get back to slep though im really tired The40%Rule: Yah, I’m still up. Persona4Dancer: Me too! Diamond Lil: I’m up as well. Appleseed1988: aw hell anybodyelse get woke up by a weird dream? Diamond Lil: No, just working on a project. Persona4Dancer: Thinking about pancakes. The40%Rule: No, just thinking. Appleseed1988: well glasd for that at least Appleseed1988: had enough coincidedces for s while DaVinciGirl: What are you thinking about? Persona4Dancer: Pancakes! :D Diamond Lil: Goodness, me, too. DaVinciGirl: *Rainbow. Persona4Dancer: Oops! Sorry! DaVinciGirl: np. Persona4Dancer: You were thinking of pancakes, too? Diamond Lil: No, darling, I’m glad we’re done with coincidences. The40%Rule: Just stuff. Diamond Lil: Because goodness knows, we’ve had more than our share. Sunset and Twilight exchanged a worried look. NoHornNeeded: okay, everybody, wait a minute. NoHornNeeded: Rainbow Dash? You okay? The40%Rule: Sure. Diamond Lil: Do pull the other one, darling. It plays music. DaVinciGirl: …RD? The40%Rule: Look, it’s no big deal. The40%Rule: Okay, it kinda is, but… The40%Rule: Look. Gimme a sec… Diamond Lil: Take your time, dear. For almost a full minute, all screens were still. Then: The40%Rule: I mean, have you guys thought about where we’re going from here? Sure, it’s summer now, and we’ve got the band and everything else… but once the Fall hits, some of you are going to college, Fluttershy’s studying veterinarian medicine somewhere, Rare’s probably going somewhere in Europa to master fashion. AJ’s got her farm, so she’ll stay around… The40%Rule: This isn’t just the usual Senioritis, you know? I mean, sure, there’s that, too. But together, the Rainbooms helped people. We saved lives. We made a difference. The40%Rule: Are we just going to stop? If someone’s in trouble, we’re not gonna step up? The40%Rule: And if we do, and we’re alone, will we make it? DaVinciGirl: I admit, I hadn’t thought about that. Diamond Lil: Nor I. Persona4Dancer: Of course we’ll help people! It’s what we do! Appleseed1988: sugarcube, whats really got you in a twist like this? Appleseed1988: I mean thisis valid but theres somethin else too eaint it? Appleseed1988: crhist I caint tyope tonight The40%Rule: Well, yeah, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, in a way. But it’s really my problem, not yours. Appleseed1988: Doesn’t man we aint gonna help. DaVinciGirl: Look, we respect your privacy, of course. But we’re your friends. Diamond Lil: If it’s hurting you, dear, that rather makes it our problem. The40%Rule: Yeah, fair. The40%Rule: It’s just… The40%Rule: Ever since we got our magic… I mean… sure, ponying up was awesome when we played. But then in the games, we started getting our real powers. And they really came out at camp. And that’s great. The40%Rule: Because Fluttershy’s going into vet medicine, and her magic’s perfect for that. The40%Rule: And Twilight’s got TK from hell, I can only imagine how useful that’ll be in her egghead stuff. The40%Rule: And AJ’s super strong and she’s doing heavy farm work. NoHornNeeded: Oh, sweet Jesus. The40%Rule: I guess force fields aren’t fashion industry material, but they can’t hurt, right? The40%Rule: And Pinkie Pie is a living party cannon, if there is such a thing. DaVinciGirl: And you were going into sports. Appleseed1988: oh hell I am so sorry sugarcube. It didn’t eben register till you said somethin. The40%Rule: Yeah. The40%Rule: I was gonna play soccer. Hit the olympics, play professionally. The40%Rule: Not much point when I can outrun a car. The40%Rule: Hell, I think I could outrun a plane if I pushed myself. The40%Rule: But what’s the point of that either? NoHornNeeded: Oh, geez, Rainbow Dash. (hugs) Persona4Dancer: (hugs) Appleseed1988: (hugs) The40%Rule: Thanks, you guys. Diamond Lil: (hugs) We should have realized! Persona4Dancer: (hugs) DaVinciGirl: (hugs) The40%Rule: That’s okay. Persona4Dancer: (hugs!!!) The40%Rule: Okay, Pinkie, I get it. Thank you. Diamond Lil: So, what are you going to do, then? If you don’t mind my asking? Diamond Lil: Because now that you mention it, my own plans have been changing somewhat, as well. The40%Rule: Well, I’ve been thinking about that. Great power and Uncle Ben, you know? Persona4Dancer: HUGS!! DaVinciGirl: Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? Because keeping a secret identity in modern day would be almost impossible, even without facial recognition software. The40%Rule: I GET IT PINKIE THANK YOU! Diamond Lil: I must admit the opportunity to design costumes for us all is certainly tempting. ;) Persona4Dancer: HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS HUGS Diamond Lil: But regarding the practicalities, well, I must side with Twilight on this one. The40%Rule: DUDE WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL????? Persona4Dancer: WHAT WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME The40%Rule: WHAT THE FFUCK YOU STARTED YELLING AT ME FIRST!! Persona4Dancer: I’M NOT YELLING I JUST LIKE TYPING IN CAPS The40%Rule: OH, YAH? WELL MAYBE I LIKE TYPING IN CAPS TOO! YOU EVER THINK OF THAT? NO! NO YOU DIDN’T! Persona4Danceer: HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY HUGSITY The40%Rule: JEEGUS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU IS THERE EVEN A NAME FOR IT Persona4Dancer: TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY TYPITY The40%Rule: BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH Appleseeed1988: (rips the caps lock off both your keyboards) Appleeseed1988: (throws em away) Appleseed1988: Now tahts enough outta both yall. Diamond Lil: LOL! NoHornNeeded: Best. Eris. Ever. DaVinciGirl: I think you just won the Internet. NoHornNeeded: XD The40%Rule: xD Persona4Dancer: Yay! After a few moments of screen inactivity, Twilight began typing again. DaVinciGirl: So, with that out of the way… RD, you were saying? The40%Rule: Yeah. Anyway. You guys wanna meet tomorrow, maybe? The40%Rule: Cuz I think this is a discussion we might want to have in person. Appleseed1988: im free past about 3pm. Diamond Lil: I can be there. NoHornNeeded: I don’t think T and I have any plans. Persona4Dancer: I’m in. DaVinciGirl: Nope. The40%Rule: Cool. T&S, you mind if we meet at your place? DaVinciGirl: *Nope, we don’t have any plans. DaVinciGirl: Also, nope we don’t mind. The40%Rule: Awesome. I’ll PM Fluttershy, I think she’s got tomorrow off. Appleseed1988: cool. Im gonnna go back to bd. I think I can sleep now. Diamond Lil: Yes, do get some rest darling. DaVinciGirl: Good night. Persona4Dancer: Nighty-noodles! NoHornNeeded: Night. The40%Rule: Night. Appleseed1988: Night, all. DaVinciGirl: And on that note, I’m going to retire. Sunny? NoHornNeeded: Yeah, me, too. Night, all. Diamond Lil: Likewise. Good night, my dears. Persona4Dancer: Nighty-night everybody! The40%Rule: Hey, Pinks, before you go? The40%Rule: Thanks. Persona4Dancer: (hugs) The40%Rule: (hugs) . It was hardly a fitting place for such a fateful meeting. It was near midnight, which was certainly a step in the right direction. But she would have preferred someplace more private. More Noir. Perhaps even foreboding, considering what was at stake. Just the same, she would meet them wherever they desired. They had something she needed. And, unfortunately, they were cunning enough to realize it. Not as cunning as The Clever and Insightful Trixie, of course. But cunning enough to be taken seriously, just the same. Cunning. And certainly dangerous. “Welcome to Meat’N’Malt, home of the famous mac burger,” a plainly exhausted orange girl recited. “Just sit wherever you like, and I’ll be with you shortly.” Trixie nodded. She allowed the door to finish slowly closing behind her as she took in the denizens of the 24-hour eatery. She knew she cut an appropriate figure in her constellation-covered hat and matching trench coat, for all that the people around her were too dense to notice. Which was mildly annoying. Still, a good magician always maintains a presence of both drama and mystery. At length, she made her way to the corner half-booth, where the three sisters waited for her. “So, you’re finally here,” Adagio said. “We were starting to wonder if you were going to show.” Trixie gave a careless shrug. “A magician is never late,” she said. “Neither is she early.” Pulling a chair over, she reversed it and sat in it backwards, her right arm resting nonchalantly on the table. “Yeah, whatever,” Aria scoffed. “You said you were buying.” “The Great and Powerful Trixie is as good as her word,” Trixie said with a careless gesture. “Order whatever you wish.” “Yeah, well, maybe I’m tired of take-out, pretty girl,” Aria said, her eyes narrowing hungrily as she considered the blue girl across from her. “Maybe you’re not gonna buy dinner, so much as provide it.” Trixie glanced at her for a moment, then shrugged. “If you think you can, then by all means,” she replied. “You are not the same as you were at the Battle of the Bands.” Then, her own eyes narrowing, she smiled, adding, “Neither is Trixie.” Aria gave Adagio the slightest glance, and, next to her, Adagio gave her the slightest nod. With her eyes still on Trixie, Aria began to sing, low and soft, her siren voice gently encompassing the burger joint and all within it. Slowly, the background chatter of the place faded to a halt. Humans all around them stopped and stared, their eyes vacant, their hands still. What little energy there was to be had from such sad and mundane creatures, Aria drew in and gladly devoured. Yet, the blue girl across from her resisted, eyes focused, brow creased slightly in concentration. At length, Adagio touched Aria lightly on the arm, and the arcane song ceased. All around them, the steady murmur of conversation resumed. The cook gave a startled cry and began quickly flipping singeing burgers, and the cashier began apologizing to someone over his headset. “Okay, not bad.” Aria grumbled. “Impressive, in fact,” Adagio said with a smirk. “I’d heard you and your fellow students had faced more magic after we’d left. But I hadn’t expected you, of all people, to gain strength from it.” “The Great and Powerful Trixie has found many things in her travels,” Trixie smiled. “Greater strength is only one of them.” “Your ‘travels?’” Aria gave a dismissive wave. “Please. Didn’t you graduate, like, a month ago?” “Only from the mundane halls of Canterlot High,” Trixie said. “But regarding Trixie’s true vocation, the journey has only just begun.” “Can I wear your hat?” Sonata chirped. Rolling her eyes, Trixie handed over her star-and-moon covered hat. Sonata jammed it onto her head happily, admiring herself this way and that in the night-darkened window beside her. “Anyway,” Trixie went on, “none of this is why Trixie sought you out.” “Why, then?” Adagio asked. “The Wise and Deducing Trixie had determined that the three of you had regained your powers,” Trixie said. “And now she has confirmed it.” Aria’s eyes narrowed dangerously, her hand balling into a fist as Trixie went on, “And, judging from the green glow beneath your shirt when you sang, your amulets weren’t repaired, they were replaced. Trixie finds that very interesting, and would like to know from whom these crystals were procured.” “Bitch,” Aria snarled. Adagio placed a warning hand on Aria’s wrist, who gave her a resentful glare and lapsed into a sullen silence. Then, Adagio turned back to Trixie, and said, “Okay, Trixie. I’ll give you credit for guts. And bonus points for fending off Aria. But it’s very late. And you really should go home now.” Trixie cocked her head, genuinely curious. “And why is that? “Because you’ve obviously forgotten who you’re dealing with.” Adagio’s eyes appraised the blue girl as she continued, “You’re not like the Rainbooms, with their accidental magic powers and bardic gift. I’ll grant you, you may be more determined. Maybe even more aware. But that doesn’t really matter. Because in the end, we’re not like you. “You’re human, Trixie. Fragile. And mortal in every way. “Do you really think the Battle of the Bands cost us that much, in the long run?” she sneered. “That it cost us anything? We’re the sirens, kid. We fed on the wars of the ancient Greeks, and when we got tired of them, we led them to their shipwrecks and watched them die. We were in Caligula’s court, and Nero’s. We placed bets on the Napoleonic wars. “Now, don’t get me wrong. I think you’ve got potential. And you’ve got guts, like I said. Play your cards right, and you could go far. But all you’ve got is human potential. And frankly, you’re playing out of your league.” “And even if we told you anything, you really think we’d let you just walk away?” Sonata added, teeth still bared. “Or do you think you can resist us all?” Adagio’s eyes cut towards her sister. “Sonata.” But Sonata’s voice only dropped dangerously low as she added, “No one will remember your coming in here, the Whatever-and-Whatever Trixie. In a week, no one will even remember your name.” Trixie’s right hand remained on the table, relaxed as ever. However, from under the table, where her other hand rested in her coat pocket, came the unmistakable click of a revolver’s hammer being pulled back. For a moment, all three sirens froze, staring at Trixie. “Trixie loads with silver,” Trixie said nonchalantly. “Just in case that matters.” Adagio gave Aria a look of pure loathing. “Happy now?” she said through gritted teeth. Aria crossed her arms, staring at nothing and seething. “Alright, let’s try this again,” Adagio said to Trixie with a calculating smile. “You want information. Fine. But look at it this way: even if we did get our amulets from someone else, we wouldn’t be in a position to tell you anything about it. That would be tantamount to betraying an ally. And we don’t have too many of those as it stands. You can understand that, right?” Trixie nodded. “Of course. Trixie is aware of such things.” “Then why,” muttered a still-seething Aria, “are we here?” “Besides, he’s also kinda scary,” Sonata added. Both her sisters rolled their eyes in unison. “Thanks, Sonata,” Aria grumbled. “That wasn’t idiotic at all.” Sonata ignored her, enjoying her new hat. “Trixie only wishes to show you something,” Trixie said. “That is all.” With her free hand, Trixie reached into her other coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, placing it on the table between them all. It was a photocopy of a page from a very old yearbook. Towards the lower left, circled in magic marker, was a photograph of a plaque on a wall, such as one might see in any high school. On the plaque was a single name. As one, Adagio and Aria stood, their chairs falling behind them. Trixie stood as well, stepping back as she did, allowing them room to leave. “Come on, Sonata,” Aria said. “We’re out of here.” Pouting slightly, Sonata skootched out from the booth. “Thanks for letting me wear your hat,” she said, handing it back as she went by. Trixie nodded. It was impossible not to smile a little. The sirens were at the exit when Aria suddenly doubled back, jabbing a finger at Trixie with a hungry leer. “You’ve got no idea what you’re messing with, little girl,” she hissed. “But you know what? I hope you find what you’re looking for. And I hope I’m there to see it happen!” Then she stormed out of the restaurant and into the night, she and her sisters heading for a trio of motorcycles parked nearby. Trixie stood where she was, one hand still in her coat, pointed down. Any good magician knew breath control, it was essential for many escapes. Granted, it gave little control over the jackhammer that had been pounding in her chest throughout the encounter. But a good magician never lets her audience see her sweat. And besides, she had gotten what she had come for. “No, Aria,” she said quietly with a growing smile. “Trixie really doesn’t think you do.” Once the sirens were gone, the Great and Powerful Trixie strode slowly into the night. Rain would have been ideal for such a moment… but there was a drifting, uneven fog about, and that would certainly do. Ignoring the parking lot completely, Trixie headed down the street, pulling up the collar on her coat as she did. Then, a wave of fog briefly enveloped her, and when it cleared she was gone from all mortal sight. Author's Note . . . . . . This continuity continues with The Black Rainbow Concert. And, of course, the seminal story that starts it all begins here.
3: Adolescence.. “Woooaaahh!” “Fall forward, hon. I got you.” Twilight Sparkle did exactly that, Sunset catching and lowering her onto her forehooves. “This is wonky,” Twilight observed. “Yeah, but balance is easier with four legs,” Sunset grinned. “You get used to it.” “And the transportation itself,” Twilight mused. “I’d expected to feel morphed or even dissolved somehow, but instead I just felt kind of…” An identical voice broke in. “Stretched?” “Twilight! Good to see you,” Sunset grinned. “Sorry we’re late,” the princess said. “Time still isn’t completely constant between our worlds.” “Hey, no problem,” Sunset said, trotting over to her friend. “We just got here, so—” “Is this your library?” Twilight Sparkle asked while they hugged. The princess gave her a grin. “One of them.” “One of them?” the human-born Twilight gasped. “One of them? This is fantastic! Where do we start?” She trotted over to her counterpart, only a little unsteadily. “I can’t wait! The sociopolitical implications of a multi-species set of global superpowers relying on individual prowess rather than warehoused technological devices for preventative sociopolitical leverage are mind-boggling! “No, wait,” she thought aloud, “maybe we should start with history, to give everything context. But of course,” she said with a conspiratorial smile to the alicorn, “you can’t study history without studying geography and economics, am I right? “Wait, I know,” she exclaimed, suddenly brightening even more, “Let’s start with magic! I’ve read the magic books that Sunset has from when she first came to our world, and I can’t wait to learn how to cast unicorn spells, and… and...” Her voice trailed off as she realized that everypony there was staring at her. She blinked, suddenly self-conscious. “What? Did I, did I say something wrong?” She turned back to her twin. “I’m sorry, I—” “No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” the princess said. “It’s just that, this is really unexpected…” Becoming more frantic, Twilight looked from one pony to the next. “What?” she asked. “What’s unexpected? What did I do?” “You didn’t do anything,” Princess Twilight assured her. “Um, honey?” Sunset said softly. “Two things. One, you’re not a unicorn…” “Oh, thank goodness,” Twilight Sparkle breathed. “For a minute there I thought maybe I-- WHAT?!?” For an instant, Twilight Sparkle was staring ahead of herself, her purple wings splayed out to the fullest. Then, as quickly as the moment came, it vanished again. “Awwwww…” she sighed. Wings and tail drooped to the floor, her head hanging low. Princess Twilight took a hesitant step forward. “Um,” she said, “I know you’re disappointed, but all of the pony tribes have their own special magic…” “I know,” the human-turned-pegasus sighed. “And I’m not trying to be racist – tribist, I guess? – it’s just that unicorns are so cool. And I was really looking forward to learning magic,” she finished with another sigh. “Well, you can still study spells as much as you want,” Twilight pointed out. “There have been plenty of scholars who were experts on sorcery, but didn’t cast spells. Even most unicorns aren’t sorcerers.” At her fiancé’s downcast expression, Sunset added, “Not to mention, pegasi can walk on clouds, control the weather…” Twilight Sparkle’s head snapped up. “Wait,” she said. “I can what the what?” “…and fly, of course,” Sunset finished. “Which is kind of the main pegasus thing, really.” “And I have books on all of that,” Princess Twilight said conspiratorially. “Historical and tutorial.” As the pegasus started to take in a delighted breath, Sunrise chimed in casually with, “Not to mention, you also have a cutie mark.” “Yeah,” Sunset nodded. “That was thing two.” Twilight Sparkle froze again, then immediately began to spin. “I do? Where? What is it? I can’t…” While Sunset struggled to keep from laughing, Sunrise sank helplessly against the shelves, gasping with mirth. “What does it look like?” the pegasus shouted frantically. “I can’t see it!” “Faster, Twilight,” Sunrise managed, “you’re gaining on it!” While Sunset mimed a playful kick towards her twin’s ribs, Princess Twilight grabbed Twilight Sparkle by the shoulders. “Here,” she giggled, “you’ll never see it that way.” Once Twilight Sparkle had regained her balance, Sunset levitated off the pegasus’ saddlebags, and the princess helped Twilight turn her head and neck so that she could see her own flank. There, a pyramid shone in light grey, tilted at an angle. A black arch curved to either side and above it. Almost like an aura of power, but not quite… thin at the top, and nearly the width of the pyramid where it touched the latter’s sides. Atop the pyramid, in the center of that ebon curve, shone a single crimson jewel. “Oh, my gosh,” Twilight Sparkle squeed. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! This is so awesome! I couldn’t have picked a better cutie mark!” Sunrise gave a wry grin. “Okay, pretending for a minute that I’m not jealous – which I totally am, by the way –what is it?” Sunset frowned in puzzlement. “That’s a... Vulcan symbol, isn’t it?” Twilight Sparkle looked back at her fiancé, eyes and grin alight with joy. “It’s the Kol-Ut-Shan!” Princess Twilight cocked her head, studying the strange configuration of shapes. “The what?” “The Kol-Ut-Shan” her counterpart repeated. “It’s the Vulcan IDIC principle.” At the alicorn’s continued puzzlement, Sunset offered, “Vulcans are a fictitious race where we come from.” “Right. And the Kol-Ut-Shan, the IDIC, is the cornerstone of the Vulcan philosophy.” Twilight Sparkle continued. “Infinite Diversity, in Infinite Combinations. See, the Vulcans used to be a highly aggressive, warlike race who almost destroyed themselves. But one day, a Vulcan named Surak had an epiphany. He realized that only through conquering emotion and achieving inner peace, could their race survive. So, the Vulcans became the most logical race in the known universe, having conquered all emotion.” She paused, considering. “Unless you count curiosity,” she added. “But that’s debatable. “Anyway, the core of their philosophy is the Kol-Ut-Shan. Because without celebration of the endless variables of the universe, life loses its value. And giving up life’s value is, well, illogical. “Of course, there’s a lot I’m leaving out; the truth of the Kol-Ut-Shan goes way beyond its name…!” “Wait, I’m confused,” said Princess Twilight. “No offense, but you never struck me as an unemotional—” “Nonono, that’s Vulcans,” Twilight Sparkle corrected her. Then she began talking faster, her enthusiasm truly taking hold. “But, when I was a little girl, I watched Star Trek constantly! Especially the classic series, and the cartoon. I loved the Vulcans’ self-control, their spirit of scientific discovery… and above all, the Kol-Ut-Shan! “‘Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, symbolizing the elements that create truth and beauty,’” she recited. Then, she grinned. “Spock’s clone. The Infinite Vulcan, from Star Trek the Animated Series. Anyway, the Kol-Ut-Shan is why, dedicated as they are to pure logic, Vulcans still study art, tradition, and music. And that’s why they explore other worlds, and why they accept the other, more emotional races as equals, and treasure them as friends! “And that inspired me! Even as a little girl, I knew that I wanted to learn everything I could! Not just school lessons, but also art, literature, theatre, music… everything! I wanted to breathe in that infinite light… and then, someday, breathe it out again! “I knew that the world was vast and full of wonder. And I wanted to learn everything I could, become everything I could! And then, one day I would share it all with the world, to bring that light into the lives of others, to help them see their own… to see that, um…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked down at the floor, cheeks burning. “I know. It sounds silly.” Gently, Princess Twilight put a hoof below the pegasus’ chin, brought her gaze up to meet her own. “No,” she said sincerely. “It sounds noble.” Twilight Sparkle gave her a grateful smile. Meanwhile, Sunrise gaped, while Sunset just gazed at her lover in pure adoration. “Don’t ever let her go,” Sunrise whispered. Sunset sighed happily. “I promise.” . The last time Sunset had journeyed through the mirror, time had been of the essence. There had been no time for sight-seeing or catching-up. There had only been a hurried search through the Canterlot Library’s restricted section and a mad dash back home. This time, Princess Twilight was determined that things would be different. And besides, as she pointed out to an increasingly nervous Sunset Shimmer, taking an extra day would give the unicorn more time to relax, and to decide how she wanted to handle her current situation. “Yeah,” Sunset agreed. “I shouldn’t put this off too long, but... you’re probably right. I mean, I still don’t know what I’m going to say when I see her.” “So, wait... with me being a pegasus,” Twilight Sparkle mused, “does that mean I could take an aerial tour?” The princess nodded. “Sure. We could split up, and meet here later tonight.” Twilight Sparkle glanced over to Sunset. “What do you think? We’d talked about taking in the sights together...” Sunset smiled. “Yeah, but that was Canterlot. I never got to Ponyville much as a foal. And besides, if I suddenly had wings, I know I’d want to use them. So, how about Twilight shows you the sights around town today, and I’ll show you the capital after tomorrow.” Eyes shining with excitement, the pegasus turned back to Princess Twilight. “I guess it’s a plan,” the princess grinned. “Okay. I’ll just adapt today’s itinerary into an aerial tour, maybe work in Cloudsdale if there’s time, and Sunny can give Sunset the 2-D tour while we’re gone. I left a spare copy of the schedule in the dining room,” she added towards Sunrise. “Great!” Twilight Sparkle nodded, practically vibrating with excitement. “So, can we start the flying? Now? Later? Soon?” “We absolutely can. Of course, there are certain considerations to bear in mind when dealing with—” ZWOOOOOM! There was a violet blur and the pegasus was gone, leaving the other ponies with their manes waving slightly from her wind. “…new wings,” the princess finished. Then she shrugged. “Oh, well. I guess we’ll meet you girls back here for dinner?” The amber-colored mares nodded. Twilight grinned. “Right, well, guess I’d better catch up with my new flying buddy.” Trotting towards the door, she added, “Oh, and Sunny, could you get out the liniment, please?” Sunrise nodded. “Sure thing.” Twilight called back a quick, “Thanks!” and was off in pursuit of her newly-winged counterpart. Sunset gathered up her and her fiancé’s bags in the glow of her magic, then looked askance at Sunrise. “Liniment?” “Yeah, it’s in my room. Ponies don’t do a lot of driving. Like, none.” As the pair exited the library, Sunset rolled her eyes. “Really? Even today?” “Yeah. They’ve got a train, though, if that helps.” “A train. As in, one.” “Right.” As Sunrise opened the door to her chambers, Sunset shook her head in mock disbelief. “’My child,” she quoted, “we are pilgrims in an unholy land.’” “Well, remember, no mass production.” Sunrise pointed out. “And I think the guy who enchanted the train is dead, anyway. Of course, I haven’t really missed cars for the last few weeks, now that I think about it. So, I guess there’s also the lack of necessity factoring in.” Retrieving the medicine, she said, “Wups! Hey, Daring Do, can you take this? It goes into your room, over there.” With a thought, Sunset levitated the glass jar from Sunrise’s hooves, setting it near the door she’d indicated. “Thanks,” Sunrise said. “I’ve been getting better about dropping things, but the glass is just a little slick.” “No problem.” As the pair headed towards the castle’s main doors, Sunset asked, “So, how are the feathers going?” “They’re going.” “Uh-huh. Like flip, or like fwoosh?” Sunrise grimaced. Sunset nodded. “Yeah. Me too, at first.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do… you want input?” Sunrise thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. I appreciate it, but it’s my magic. It’s my hurdle to overcome. You know?” As they passed together through the front door, Sunset smiled at her otherworldly twin. “Yeah,” she said. “I completely understand.” And then they were outside, in Ponyville, and their talk turned to other things. . The rest of the day was well spent by both pairs of ponies. As Sunrise showed Sunset the various sights and wares of the town, she introduced her as her sister… an explanation which was readily accepted by all concerned. Well, almost all concerned. “Oh, my gosh this is so great! So you must be Sunny’s other Sunny, her other her from the other place that isn’t this place although it kind of is and you totally started out as rivals and enemies but now you’re totally BFFs and best sisters ever who would do anything for each other and that’s so awesome and I’m so happy and excited for both of you!” The unicorns blinked, then glanced at one another awkwardly. “I’m so hapcited!” Pinkie Pie squeed. “Um...” Sunset started, “...sure,” Sunrise finished, both of them nodding slowly. Pinkie leaped into the air for joy, multicolored confetti flying in all directions to cover all concerned. ”YAAAAAYYYY!” “Aaaaack!” Pinkie Pie paused, observing the newcomer Sunny in a crouch, wincing. “Um, are you okay?” Pinkie asked. Cautiously, Sunset stood erect again, confetti liberally sprinkled along her coat and mane. “Couldn’t be better,” she said. After a moment’s hesitation, she began dusting herself off. Very, very carefully. “Anyway, we’re doing the grand tour of Ponyville,” Sunrise said. “You want to come along? You know the place way better than I do.” But Pinkie shook her head. “Nah. I’m on my way to watch the Cake twins. Thanks, though.” Sunrise nodded. “That’s cool. See you around.” There was a general exchange of hoofbumps and hugs. Once the unicorns were out of earshot, Pinkie considered their retreating forms carefully. “Huh,” she pondered. “Boy, Sunset sure seems tense.” Then, she brightened again. “Oh, well. Nothing that a good Welcome Sunset Surprise Party couldn’t fix!” And so, with a solution found and determination made, Ponyville’s party pony bounced merrily on her way. . The Twilights, on the other hand, both discovered a far greater difficulty in social matters. Having been flying for nearly an hour and happily geeking out the whole time, they stopped by Sugarcube Corner for an early lunch. “Princess Twilight,” Mr. Cake waved. “Always a pleasure!” Twilight waved back happily. “Me, too! How are the twins?” “Bright and beautiful as always,” he smiled. “You ladies seat yourselves, I’ll be over in just a minute.” Shortly thereafter, Carrot Cake was beside their booth, notepad in hoof. “So, Princess, who’s your friend?” “This is my, um…” the princess blinked, then stared. “My friend.” “Yes,” her friend agreed, also staring. “Yes, I’m definitely her friend!” “And she definitely has a name!” “Had it for years, in fact!” said friend agreed emphatically. Carrot Cake nodded, growing more puzzled by the second. “And she is...?” “And she is… well... I mean...” The princess’ voice trailed off helplessly. “We’re... cousins?” the pegasus offered. “Or, sisters?” the alicorn suggested. Then, uncertainly, the pegasus added, “...Kind of?” Then, both mares blinked again, looked at one another, then looked back to Mr. Cake. “It’s complicated,” they said in unison. And then, as if by magic, Mrs. Cake was just there, serving them two orders of the princess’ favorite lunch with an understanding smile. “It always is, my dears,” she assured them. The pair ate, discussed metaphysical theory and chronological physics, giggled over correlations and disparities in their lives, and then went on their way, soaring together into the sky. After they’d gone, Mr. Cake stared after them for several moments. Then, he turned to his wife in pure bewilderment. She was behind the counter, rolling more dough, completely at ease. Mr. Cake cleared his throat a little apprehensively, and finally spoke. “Did Princess Twilight just… make another her?” But the mare just smiled contentedly. “Let’s don’t judge, angel cake,” she said. “Equunculi are ponies, too.” . By the time everyone returned to the Castle of Friendship, the human-born Twilight was more than glad to see Princess Twilight’s muscle liniment. While Spike finished preparing dinner, Sunset guided the newly-inducted flyer into their guest room and gently massaged the worst of her strains away. When the ponies all finally sat at the dining room table, she was only a little sore. “I have to say, though, I’m really impressed,” the princess said as they dined. “My first day with wings, I didn’t last nearly so long.” “Well, I kind of cheated,” Twilight Sparkle admitted. She washed down a bite of her veggie barbeque with some cider – making a mental note as she did to get the recipe from Spike – and then said. “I was using telekinesis to help things along, so I wouldn’t overly strain—” “WHAT?!?” The princess stared at her, standing, gasping for breath as she spoke. “You mean… you have… you still… and you’re… with the… even though…” Twilight Sparkle fidgeted a little. “Iiiii… probably should have mentioned that sooner?” “She’ll be fine,” Sunrise assured her. The door to the kitchen opened, and a concerned Spike peeked in, apron and baker’s hat still on. “Hey, everything okay in here?” He asked. “Just peachy,” Sunset assured him. “Radical data was just revealed,” Sunrise added. The young dragon nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Make sure you leave room for dessert.” Twilight Sparkle stared at her plate, and then the dragon. There was dessert, too? “Count on it,” she said. While Spike returned to his pastries, Princess Twilight continued to struggle for breath. “…and that’s… because… unless…” “Okay, Twilight,” Sunset said, “Just breathe…” “TELL ME EVERYTHING!” Sunrise took another sip of cider, completely unperturbed. Then, she walked over to her mentor, saying, “Okay, Twilight, just take in a deep breath…” With some difficulty, the princess did so. “… now release it.” With the exhalation , the alicorn seemed to almost deflate. Sunrise put a hoof on her withers. “You okay?” she asked. “Yeah,” the princess said. Then, she glanced at her human counterpart. “Sorry.” “No, that’s fine, I get it. In fact, I, well,” Twilight Sparkle glanced towards the dining room door. “I documented everything for my own research, and I thought you might be interested, so I brought copies…” The princess grinned. “You brought me copies of your research? Oh, you can so stay.” “In this tiny little castle?” Sunrise winked. “Yeah, you’ve only got, what, thirty rooms in this place? Where’s she going to sleep?” “Oh, she can have your room,” the princess said happily, waving the problem away. While Sunrise made a mock-indignant noise and stared at her mentor with hooves on her hips, Sunset took a contented sip of cider. “Yep, getting kicked out a tiny castle, forced into a huge one,” she said. While her own Twilight leaned over to happily cuddle with her, Sunset nodded sagely to her otherworldly twin. “Told you this place was dangerous.” Author's Note . . . . . .
