Cross the Rubicon: Choices

Her desk was in utter disarray, with half a dozen Equestrian tomes scattered and open on a hastily cleared surface, alongside the diary from Pinkie’s locker, one monitor on her computer showing a google search, the other with an academic archival database digital library on mythology and folklore—not just first hand sources, but various translations, research papers, texts and cultural information on the societies that created the folklore. Sunset was scouring through them, trying to find anything that would help her figure out what Cinch was up to…or that would help her with her own problem prisoner.

—Really feeling the love here, horn-head. And a prisoner is inaccurate…that implies unwilling incarceration. Roommate is better, but that’s still got a degree of separation that's lacking.—

Unhealthy manifestation of a magical demonic transformation that she couldn’t be rid of, then.

—Rude. You really need to learn a little self love that doesn't involve that thing Twilight does with her middle finger.—

Did it really count if it was Twilight doing it?

—It would if you’d relax enough to go with it.—

Sunset resisted the urge to grind her teeth, and turned her attention back to the texts in front of her. “I’m not interested in giving you any opportunity to take over,” she hissed. “Now, unless you are into giving me straight answers, shut up—I’m trying to figure out what is really going on at Crystal Prep, and why whatever is there wants Twilight so bad.”

The voice was silent, but the redhead could practically feel the judgment from it as she skimmed through the texts and hunted for any human folklore that might’ve matched what she saw and felt. Stupid voice…is it any wonder she didn't trust it? It was all too willing to spew things when it wanted to give her a kick to the jaw, but when it might actually be useful? Of course not.

Shaking her head she turned her attention to the database and her good friend Google. There had to be something… Sunset discarded most of the things she found attached to any human religions newer than a hundred years, and anything so obscure and far away that it was unlikely that any magical beings or spellcasters would have traveled that far. It ruled out Australia, South America, and the remotest parts of the various tiny island cultures in the Pacific, at least. That still left all of Europe, anything native to North America, a good portion of mainland Asia, and parts of Africa, she noted sourly, before buckling down and getting to work.

She hated pure text research.

Two hours later, she groaned and sat back, frustrated beyond all measure. “This is getting me nowhere…”

—It’s not. You don't need to be doing this. You already know everything you need to protect her. Why won't you listen?!—

“Listen? To you?” Sunset pushed to her feet and began to pace in the open space near her couch. “You want me to spell it out for you in bright, bold glyphs? Maybe because a demon who represents the worst, most violent, angry, and hateful parts of me is the one offering the advice? A demon whose entire purpose for existence was to dominate, enslave, and conquer two worlds? How about the fact that that same demon has been tormenting me with nightmares for months?” She ran both hands through her hair, tugging painfully on the curling locks. “Or the fact that not once since I’ve accused you of being the demon I became, have you denied or refuted the accusation!”

—Because that’s not how this works, and deep down, you know that too. Just like you know those weren’t nightmares, or hallucinations. They were warnings.— The voice somehow managed to sound hurt and offended at the same time, and Sunset found her ire rising, her hands beginning to grow hot.

“Warnings? A bunch of shadows, a Twilight who was possessed by some kind of evil magic that gleefully murders me, my own demon just standing around and letting it happen? The world, burning in shadow and flame, no one left alive? Turning back into you and seducing Twilight?” She sneered at the air, and clenched her fists by her sides, struggling to contain the magic rising with her temper. Crimson sparks flickered into being, and she rushed to the bathroom, plunging her hands into the sink under icy water. “If that's your idea of warning me, don’t. Try plain Ponish instead. Tirek take me, I’d even settle for Old Ponish—at least I could use a translation guide if I didn’t know the dialect!!”

Sunset made the mistake of lifting her gaze from where blood colored sparks and flames were violating the laws of physics under a deluge of water, and had to resist recoiling from the sight that stared back. Her eyes were glowing brightly, her pupils reduced to catlike slits in a field of blue-green, set against a sclera that was as black as the cold void of a bottomless pit. The skin around them was no longer the sunny, warm shade of the rest of her, having darkened to a terrible red-amber that brought back flashbacks of the night of the Fall Formal, and the dreadful reflection the Elements had shown her, and over her shoulders, the faintest hint of wings hovered, molded from darkness and flame.

A low, agonized whine escaped her throat, like a wounded animal.

—There weren’t exactly a lot of options,— came the snippy response. —It’s a case of working with what we have. There wasn't another way besides dreams at the time. You burned everything we had against those seaside karaoke bar rejects, and it took months to recover. Especially with a good part of any energy gained going to protect Sparky. Which, frankly, was a lot more important than you getting a full night’s sleep.—

Her hands were stinging and throbbing with faint pain now, feeling like they were sunburned from the wrist down. Steam billowed up from where fire and water waged war, neither side giving an inch, and Sunset was thankful for it, because the thick white clouds cut off her view of her reflection. “What part of protecting her was seducing her?” she demanded.

—Maybe you should ask yourself that. It was what you wanted…and also what she wanted. She’s a frisky little monkey.— There was smugness in that tone. —And it gave us a way to protect her, a connection that our magic could use to keep them away from her.—

Sunset seethed at the answer that told her almost nothing, and cursed under her breath in seven different languages. “Yeah, because it was working so well, given all the times I had to get rid of dark magic on her.”

That stupid voice snarled irritably back at her, —It would have been a thousand times worse!—

“I’m sure,” she retorted. “Here’s this awful dark magic tainted place and people, and they're after Twilight for some reason—hey, I’ve got an idea, let’s just delve into dark magic of my own to keep her safe!” She slammed her fist into the sink’s stone countertop, pain of a different kind lancing up her arm. “You’ve got more than delusions of grandeur if you think I’m going to trust her protection to the worst decision I ever made.”

For a long, uncomfortable moment, there was nothing but spitting flames, splashing water, and the hissing of steam. At last, that little corner of her mind sighed heavily. —Even if you can’t believe there is no ulterior agenda, you have to realize, deep down, that no part of you could ever hurt her…can't you trust yourself?—

“No!” It came out in an explosive rush, on the edge of furious tears, and the intensity of it shocked both of them to silence. Sunset gripped the countertop, the sparks having guttered out with her admission, and she refused to look up and see the demon staring back at her.

“…no,” she repeated, feeling tired and wrung out with her anger’s real target achieved. “…I don’t. How can I possibly trust myself—nopony knows better than me just how easily I turned into you…how easy it would be to become you again…” Her hands were red, burned and painful from her own magic—at least, she hoped that it was her magic and not because of the demon. “I can't risk that…I won’t put all the people in my life at risk by taking the easy way out. I told you before, I have to do this in a way that won’t undo everything…a way that Twilight will be proud of me when it's all over.”

Sunset hugged herself, ignoring the way water soaked into her shirt. “I have to find a way to make everything okay and protect her and everyone without having to sacrifice who I am now. The ends don’t justify the means anymore, not for me.”

The voice made a thoughtful sound, as if it were actually listening to her for once. —If that’s what you really want, horn-head…— it said dubiously. —But real life is a lot messier than some story…what will you do if it comes down to an impossible choice? Will you sacrifice your friends? Sacrifice Sparky? Just to be able to avoid ‘the worst decision you ever made?’—

With that, the presence locked away inside her settled and went silent in its prison, leaving that final query lingering in her mind for the rest of the night.

And the worst part was, she wasn't sure she liked the answer.

The whispering was driving her to distraction, even when she was firmly ensconced in the laboratory space. Part of that might have been from Wallflower’s insistence on repeating every hint of rumor and speculation from the halls, complete with an undercurrent of ‘I told you so,’ in her retellings, but just as much was from what she heard, or from people stopping her in the hallways.

Twilight wasn't even sure where some of them acquired their ideas. Like the girl in her Italian class who had demanded to know who the ‘yellow skinned bitch making eyes at her boyfriend’ was,’ like it was Sunset’s fault some boy had tried to ask her out. The girl had detailed exactly how she planned to get even, and still expected Twilight to give up her best friend’s name! Or the smug expression from Suri’s cackling pack of hyenas in gym, as one of them asked if Sunset was paying her to do her homework for her, while another had suggested Sunset was just ‘a dyke who had a thing for future librarians.’

Other whispers in the halls had ranged from suggesting that Sunset was a Canterlot spy, trying to help the public school students cheat their way to victory, to a future transfer student, to Twilight’s attractive cousin from New York. It was all rampant speculation with next to no facts, and about someone who had picked her up from school twice. Twilight thought the whole thing was ridiculous…

In addition, it was clashing harshly with the emotions she really would have preferred to bask in as much as possible. Her weekend with Sunset had surpassed any expectations or fantasy, and sneaking away in the afternoons to the older girl’s loft to engage in more intimacy had reinforced the fluttery feelings and the quiet, private realization that she was in love with Sunset Shimmer.

Twilight couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips with just the thought alone. There was no other way to describe what she felt, even after several nights laying awake in bed long after the bedtime schedule she did her best to keep to during the school week, turning her feelings over in her mind. It hadn't been an impulsive decision, even if it had occurred during a highly charged moment where people were often prone to declarations in ‘the heat of the moment.’ Her conclusions had survived into the light of day, and withstood careful analysis and mental dissection when she was in the quiet dark solitude of her room with only Spike for company.

She loved Sunset Shimmer, was in love with the fiery girl who exuded charisma and passion from every pore. Certainly, she’d loved her as a friend for a while now—friendship was its own form of love, after all, one rooted in common bonds and camaraderie and equitable social standing—but this surpassed that, in a way that bore very little resemblance to the love she felt for her family members. What she felt for her mother and father, or Cadence and Shining, or even for her various cousins…that was solid, steady. Dependable in the sense that it was always there, even when things were at their worst…but it also didn't ask anything of her. Familial love…supported her unquestioningly, unwaveringly…and it went both ways, of course, though she’d only recently experienced the giving instead of the receiving, with what had happened with Glamour.

Her feelings for Sunset weren't any less…dependable…but they challenged her. Not in a negative fashion—Cady would say that would be a sign of an unhealthy relationship, most likely. No…they challenged her to be better, to strive and push herself beyond her comfort zone. With Sunset in her life, it was no longer about the drive for perfection for the sake of ‘doing things exactly right’; instead, it inspired her to become her best self, which included tackling challenges that always seemed like insurmountable mountains, while Sunset murmured encouragement and walked with her every step of the way. It paired with a desire to see Sunset grow into the best person she could be, the person Twilight had caught glimpses of from the very night they had met. Together they drove one another to do more, to be more. Sunset made her feel alive, more than she ever had; the redhead’s own fire kindled a spark inside Twilight Sparkle that had only just started to catch, yet already it held within the promise of a future that was greater than she had ever imagined.

The reminder on her phone tugged her out of her thoughts, and she glanced down to see the screen flashing at her. She sighed, and began packing her things, fiddling with the removable drive she was using to carry data during school, her thoughts wandering absently back to Sunset.

There had not been a good moment to reveal her feelings to her girlfriend. The week had been stressful and their stolen moments had been spent tangled up in physical embraces… none of them appropriate for something so huge as telling Sunset that she loved her. Love was a word Sunset seemed to actively avoid using, and from the conversations about her guardian and struggles…it was something that the older girl had heard only rarely, if at all. Dropping the words offhandedly in a conversation, or breathing them in her ear while she was making use of those magnificently talented fingers to—

Laughter from the hall and the sound of the senior bell ringing reminded her that such thoughts did not belong in the here and now.

Anyway.

It needed to be special, said with sincerity at a moment where Sunset would not see it as being tied into some sort of giving action. Twilight did not want to reinforce her girlfriend’s subconscious belief that love, affection, and acceptance were contingent on Sunset performing some service. Love was not a currency or a commodity.

Which meant she had to watch for an opportune moment to capitalize on, and her brain was all too eager to map out potential scenarios where it would be a good time to tell Sunset…and that was made exceptionally difficult when she could barely hear herself think with all the whispering.

Or worse, the questions.

Like the one confronting her now, as she left the lab space to go meet her mother in the parking lot.

“Excuse me!?” Twilight asked in utter disbelief, only barely managing to keep the hysterical edge out of her voice.

The boy standing in front of her was in her year…or the grade below her, she couldn't remember anything besides that they shared a history class. He shrugged and repeated himself. “Look, it's none of my business who you wanna go down on, Sparkle. What I want to know is how some mousy little dork who never looks up from her books scored a smoking hot college girl. She’s got to be what? Twenty-three, maybe twenty-four? Not to mention way out of your league. So what's your secret?”

Twilight kept herself from rolling her eyes so hard Sunset would have been both proud of her and concerned for the amount of ocular strain. However, after a few milliseconds of consideration, during which her brain suggested several much more unpleasant scenarios that would have been much messier and catastrophic and make her already uncomfortable legal situation that much more complicated, she decided the eye rolling was probably the safest course of action…no matter how much some part of her wanted to perform a battery of very painful experiments on this drooling imbecile and his stellar example of why inbreeding was not just a problem in pedigree dogs and some lines of racehorses…as a way to alleviate her rising anger and frustration over this entire situation and all the whispering she’d had to put up with for almost an entire week.

Summoning up a measure of control and channeling the casual courage Sunset brought to interactions like this, her voice was cold and clipped, with the same frosty edge to it that had worked so well on Silver Dollar. “If there is some secret to having positive verbal discourse with a aesthetically attractive older female, perhaps it can be found in the fact that making assumptions and asking questions in an invasive and derogatory manner is an exceptionally expedient manner to rouse anger and remove any desire to see if there is anything more under your cretinous exterior and oral sewage.” She watched with a measure of chilly satisfaction as he tried to parse out what all the large words meant, going from confusion to offended after almost half a minute. Definitely not the sharpest scalpel on the operating tray then.

She continued before he could open his mouth and allow more stupid to fall out at her feet. “She happens to be a friend, one with whom I share a large number of intellectual interests with—and I am not sorry if that punctures your salacious daydreams with basic factual data, since I find the idea of you having such things nausea-inducing and offensive on every conceivable level. Now,” she said, so frigid that the boy shivered and the temperature felt like it plummeted twenty degrees, “if you will excuse me, I have an appointment to get to.”

He recoiled as she brushed by him, still stunned by her reply to his query, and before he could put his thoughts back together, Twilight had successfully turned a corner and taken a stairwell to the ground floor, wanting to get out of the school as quickly as possible. She could still feel the eyes on her, hear the whispering voices full of speculation, but she held onto that icy demeanor, and it seemed to deter any more answer-seekers.

The teenager hit the front doors of the school with more force than was necessary to open them, a part of her surprised by the anger that enveloped her thoughts as she hunted for her mother’s car in the parking lot. That enraged section of her mind proposed a suggestion that she didn't like in the slightest: her principal was smart enough to see the writing on the wall, that Twilight was going to be finishing her education somewhere else…was this the result of what Sunset had been warning them about? Things orchestrated to punish and manipulate Twilight and her family, to make the situation so bad that Twilight would have some kind of psychological break or her parents would be forced to pull her before she could finish her project, thus ruining two of her core grade point averages for the year…for her high school transcripts? It seemed a little far-fetched to the analytical portion of her, but…there was the fact that Sunset had been able to lay out something akin to it in barely two minutes flat. If her girlfriend could figure it out that quick, what could a cunning and experienced woman like Principal Cinch do?

She had to acknowledge that the sheer number of people this week who had succeeded in jabbing their verbal barbs far too close to the truth was exceedingly high, even with altered odds from Suri’s posse to target her in the rumor mill.

Anger swirled in a maelstrom around stress and anxiety as she dropped into the front passenger seat of the car next to her mom. Velvet looked over, her smile fading to an expression of worry. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

It was unintentional—her mother was not the cause of her foul mood—yet the words formed and escaped before she could reevaluate them, tinged with the same frost that had been directed at the boy in the hall. “The story of my life; what else is new? This time the school has taken offense to something other than my breathing. In this instance, my supposed peer group does not appreciate the fact that someone like Sunset picked me up from school. They have taken umbrage with the fact that a physically attractive girl had formed a friendship with the reclusive, dorky, unattractive brain with legs that ruins the bell curve for all of them, as if friendship operates in weight classes like some sports. It is somehow inconceivable to them that she might actually be my friend and they are putting their time and effort into discussing how I have trapped her into interacting with me, while simultaneously attempting to rescue her from my unwanted company by providing her with suggestions that she would prefer the company of the right boy,” she seethed. “It's gone beyond insulting at this point.”

Her mom reached over and gently tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Children—especially teenagers—can be cruel and selfish, Twily, especially to those who don't follow the crowd. But you know Sunset, and they do not, and you know for yourself that she spends her time with you because of how deeply she values your friendship, not based on something silly like how you would score in some silly magazine quiz about appearance.”

Twilight sighed in annoyance. “I know that, Mom,” she responded, still bitter. “It doesn't make it any more bearable. I understand intrinsically that I am not in the same physical category as a supermodel or a girl like Sunset, but to have people I have never even met using it to tell me why I have no place being her friend or that I must have cheated somehow to force her to be around me…” She searched for the right word.

“It sucks,” her mother offered. “Though I would remind you that physical standards of beauty are incredibly arbitrary. You are not an unattractive person, sweetheart, and you have a lot to offer others, including a beautiful smile and good heart. Try not to let the words of shallow people convince you otherwise.”

Scowling, she bit back, intellectually realizing her mother was not at fault and that she didn't deserve the coldness, but unable to stop what she was feeling from taking control of her tongue. “That’s a little difficult at times when it seems like every person I encountered today had an opinion on the matter—including two teachers who decided to ‘warn me’ about the dangers of associating with ‘criminal riff-raff’—and were not subtle about their need to air their viewpoints at me being seen with someone that they did not deem suitable for one reason or another!”

Velvet frowned. “Your teachers are a separate matter, and one I want to talk about later when you’ve had a chance to calm down, Twily. Right now, I think you need to do your breathing exercises, and consider discussing this today with Dr. Soft-Spoken…perhaps she can offer you some strategies to help cope with the verbal offenses and gossip mongering. At least until we can get you out of there.”

Her mother was nice about it, but Twilight could hear the gentle rebuke in her words, and she deflated. It wasn't fair to take her anger out on her mother, she noted, and forced herself through the careful breathing she had been taught. With each breath, she could feel some of the unpleasant feeling in her chest ease, and felt some of the ice melt away. As she settled, she half expected an appearance from Mental-Sunset to have some kind of witty commentary on the afternoon…yet there was only the sound of her own thoughts. Which was how it had been all week. Somehow, her coping mechanism had failed right when she needed it the most…something else to mention to her therapist at her appointment.

Twilight was beginning to wonder if she could fit everything into her allotted hour time slot.