The princess walking behind her had been silent for the entire time they’d been in the building. In Sunset’s experience, that was concerning—the few conversations she’d had with Princess Twilight about their research had been enough to make her feel confident that the pony version shared Sparky’s excited enthusiasm for the pursuit of knowledge. Extended silence instead of more chatter and a barrage of questions? Not a good sign. A glance over her shoulder disguised as a head shake was enough to let her see that the Princess looked pensive, lips turned into a frown with her brows furrowed in thought.

The hallway was clear, so Sunset turned around, briefly walking backwards so she could address her visitor. “You...alright, Twilight? I’m sorry if I sounded short with you before—it’s just that human history and belief systems are complicated, and not really in a good way.”

Purple eyes that were the twin of those she was so fond of blinked owlishly at her. “What? Oh! No, Sunset, I’m not upset about that—it sounds like a subject much better read from source books, and it’s easy enough to give you some bits and a shopping list.”

The princess smiled, but Sunset could still tell something was bothering her. “Then what’s wrong?”

Twilight’s eyes looked away from hers for a split second. “Nothing’s wrong, Sunset. I’m alright.”

All right, enough of this. The redhead stopped walking, crossing her arms over her chest. “Twilight, I can tell something is bothering you, and whatever it is, it wasn’t on your mind a few minutes ago.” They were so different, the two Twilights, but it made the little similarities between them stand out all the more, and she couldn’t shake the nagging sensation that everything she was reading from the princess was saying something was eating at her.

Silence hung between them for a measurable moment, before the other pony sighed. “I pointed it out earlier, but I was noticing how different you are,” she admitted. “Not just from when we first met—”

“Before I took a rainbow to the face.”

That got her a look that she recognized, and she found herself smirking. Princess Twilight continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “I mean, yes, you are not the same mare who stole my Element, but...you’re also not the same as you were when I was here last.” A slight smile lifted the corners of Twilight’s mouth. “I was just wondering to myself if who you are now is the pony you always were, deep down.”

Of all the things she’d expected to hear, that was not it, and it caught her off guard. Part of her wanted to be angry or hurt or upset, but she recognized that Twilight wasn’t trying to be hurtful. Instead, she took a deep breath, steadying her emotions and letting a wry smirk cross her face. Expecting it or not, Twilight had done as she’d asked and told the truth, so Sunset owed her at least an attempt at an answer. Whether or not the answer she had to offer would be what Twilight thought she would hear was another matter entirely. “I wouldn’t know, Twilight. I was never the kind of pony that was liked, even when I was a foal—something that was made pretty clear to me before I was even old enough to understand what it meant. Everything about me was unacceptable, an affront to decent ponies everywhere, and especially to upstanding, well-bred unicorns, and after a while, you just accept that.”

She managed to keep her voice level, with a factual but gentle delivery of her words, avoiding the vitriol and accusatory tones her old self would have happily voiced. The redhead was still getting accustomed to this Twilight Sparkle’s mannerisms, but realized there was a chance that she might share Sparky’s struggles in recognizing who the negative emotions were really directed at, and assume she had angered Sunset. Giving that a moment to sink in, she watched several emotions play over the other pony’s face, before continuing. “Honestly, Twi, I’m still figuring out who I am, and more than that, who I want to become. I’ve had to do a lot of looking in a mirror, and for a long while I hated what I found.”

The smirk became a crooked smile, her own emotions lifting. “But...what I said outside is the truth. I feel happy, for the first time in a long, long time. I have friends, people who accept me, people who care about me...and knowing that makes me feel good and make others feel good too...so maybe that’s the difference you see.”

Twilight took in her words quietly, before making a face. “The Canterlot ‘Elite’ didn’t much like me either,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t think they much like anyone, not even each other. They certainly judge ponies by very illogical and arbitrary standards that have no bearing on the actual kind of pony they are.”

The redhead’s eyebrow arched. “Nice to see some things didn’t change.” It was nicer than what she was thinking about the nobles in the capital. “Let me guess, they didn’t like the cut of your mane? Too common to be in the presence of the august Princess of the Sun?”

That garnered a giggle. “If only,” the other told her. “Oh no. They couldn’t stand that I wasn’t one of them—my father is loosely related to a branch family of one of the noble houses, but that branch hasn’t been in the line of inheritance in over a dozen generations, which of course, means I’m common as any other Canterlot citizen. And then there was Spike.” Twilight stopped laughing, her expression darkening to a degree that was almost frightening. “They didn’t like that he was with me at the school—or rather, they felt he had no place breathing the same air as their darling colts and fillies. There was a petition, once, to have him banned from the campus, for fear he might ‘cause harm to a foal in a fit of draconic rage.’” Purple eyes were hard. “He was three.”

Sunset exhaled, hearing the echoes of her own early days at CSGU in her mind, of the scolding the princess had given her after she’d gotten into that fight, and wondered if the aristocracy’s reaction to Spike had been influenced by her own explosive temper. “...that’s awful,” she finally responded. “Poor Spike—he’s really sweet when you get to know him a little.”

“That’s because he is sweet—and the best assistant I could ask for. He’s been with me through everything over the years, and I couldn’t have done it without him.” Parental pride leaked into Twilight’s voice when she spoke of the young dragon, the kind of pride Sunset would have once given her horn to hear in Princess Celestia’s voice about her. “They were wrong about him—and they were wrong about you, Sunset.” She touched Sunset’s arm with her fingertips. “What I’m seeing in you now was inside you all along, I think, just...covered up. You’ve only been working at learning friendship for a short time, but seeing you today, after talking to you in the journals? I’m so glad we’re friends.”

That hit Sunset hard and she had to swallow around a sudden lump in her throat. “I...I’m glad we’re friends too,” she confessed. “...the girls are great, but they...they just don’t get some things the way you do. Like how much I miss the smell of the palace gardens or the taste of a platter of super greasy, loaded hayfries...or the way casting a complex spell makes me feel completely alive like almost nothing else ever has, or just what it feels like when you follow what your cutie mark is telling you.”

She found herself enveloped in another hug. “Every friendship is unique, Sunset,” the young alicorn murmured, “touching our hearts in a way that only that friendship can. It’s not belittling your friendships with the girls to say another friendship has something special. These past few weeks, I’ve found myself wishing you lived in Ponyville—I just can’t talk magic with many ponies, not like I’ve been able to with you. The closest I come to it in Equestria is an old schoolmate, Moondancer, but we’re involved in completely different areas. It’s not the same.”

The hug felt nice—familiar but different, and she found herself returning the embrace warmly. “Not many ponies who get what it’s like to be Princess Celestia’s student either,” she joked, and the pair shared a laugh.

“Oooo! Laughs and hugs! Why wasn’t I invited!?” They found themselves suddenly attacked by pink, as Pinkie Pie pounced on them for a three person hug. “Hi, Twilight! We missed you—it was taking so long for Sunset to come back with you that we thought maybe you weren’t coming, so I volunteered to come see, but I guess we were wrong!”

Sunset squirmed free, sucking in a lungful of air. Sometimes, being hugged by Pinkie was akin to being hugged by a starving boa constrictor, and today appeared to be one of those days. “Sorry, Pinkie. We ended up talking a bit.” She started walking again, the other two following, Pinkie bouncing along and Princess Twilight with a much more controlled gait.

“It’s okay! I got snacks! I baked cookies last night because this is a super special afternoon with all seven of us in the same place again!” Sunset could practically hear the way Pinkie was grinning like a maniac. “They’re sparkly!” She paused, then added, “And this way, you can use them to distract Rainbow Dash when she gets bored because you two start talking about magic and science, or when Rarity is talking about more band costumes.”

Blinking, the former unicorn stopped with her hand on the door. “Huh...that’s pretty smart, Pinkie. I wish I’d’ve thought of it.”

The party planner giggled. “Me and Applejack came up with it!”

Amused, Sunset shook her head, and pushed open the door. “Welcome to our lab, Twilight,” she chuckled, presenting the room—and the girls within—to the visiting pony with a theatrical flourish. “Alright, first thing we should do—”

The squeals of “Twilight!” from the rest of the group, followed by the inevitable group hug interrupted her, the rest of her friends greeting their returning companion with enthusiasm. Sunset shook her head again, settling into the chair at the desk, watching with a fond smile. As the hug broke up, the girls started chatting with the princess, catching her up on what had happened since they’d seen her last, as well as presenting her with small belated Christmas gifts, which Twilight took great delight in opening.

Her fingers found her phone when it vibrated in her pocket. Checking it revealed a message from her Twilight. -Sunset, just letting you know I’m working on my independent study project today. Had a major breakthrough this morning! If I don’t respond to messages, I’m sorry.-

-Don’t forget to eat, Sparky,- Sunset typed in response. -Your nerd brain needs more than pudding cups and coffee.-

-I have instant noodles too! And those brownies you left here.-

Sunset rolled her eyes. -Try to eat a real meal in there too, not just chocolate,- she encouraged.

The response had her fighting not to laugh aloud at the wall of text that read like it had been copied from a scientific paper. -Studies have shown consuming chocolate increases cerebral blood flow, promotes synaptogenesis (the formation of synapses between our neurons) and accumulates in the hippocampus the part of the brain associated with memory. All things beneficial to my research and ability to review my data.-

-Did you just try to scientifically and medically attempt to justify your chocolate addiction, Sparky?- There was a delay and while she waited, Sunset left herself a reminder on her phone to pick up some sort of chocolate treat for her girlfriend on Friday.

Finally, her phone buzzed again. -My need for chocolate is perfectly normal for a young woman, and is not classified as an addiction, Sunny. It’s a healthy addition to a balanced diet.-

Suppressing a snort, Sunset sent one last message. -Uh-huh, sure it is. Feels like you’re trying to sell horseshoes to a blacksmith. Just don’t eat all of my brownies without me, nerd. If you do, I’ll tickle you until you beg for mercy.- The phone was returned reluctantly to her jeans pocket, and she decided to interrupt the reunion. “Okay, girls, I know we all want to catch up, but we need to get some work done.”

The princess separated herself from the girls, slinging the bag off her shoulders. “This is a bit of a test,” she commented to Sunset as she set it on the desk and unzipped it. “This was my set of enchanted saddlebags. I wanted to see if the enchantment for the enlarged internal volume held. I thought it might, since your journal retained its magic.” Reaching inside, she started removing books. “And it did! Granted, this particular bag was expensive—my sister-in-law bought it for me when Celestia made me her student—so it’s a high end bit of work, but the principle is sound and tested now.”

Sunset sorted through the tomes quickly and with a practiced eye as the rest of her friends crowded around her. “Yeah—and I can back that data up; I had a similar set of saddlebags with me when I came through the first time.” Most of the books went on the bookcase next to the desk, but she left the book on minotaur defense out, intending to take it home to translate the pertinent chapters for the Vice Principal.

Rainbow picked it up and thumbed through it. “You know, Sunset, these books might actually be interesting if they weren’t written in horsey hieroglyphics. Pictures are cool though—check out the minotaur fighting a hydra! It's like a scene out of a Daring-Do book!” She grinned, before flipping though looking for more ‘cool pictures’

The redhead sighed. “I can teach you a little, Dash, if you want. I was going to anyways, for emergencies. Otherwise...Twilight, we might need to come up with a ‘translate and duplicate’ spell. I wrote one years ago for archaic Gryphonic, but we’d have to rewrite the base matrix to account for a different language on both ends of the translation part.”

Twilight flicked open a thinner book, grabbing a pen off the desk and scribbling awkward notes with one hand. “I’ll have Spike find my notes on the one I used when I was studying some stuff in old Ponish. I can throw something together, though the syntax might be off. I’m not very good with human writing yet. One night on the ‘web’ was not as helpful as you might think.”

Amber fingers reached over, correcting how she held the pen. “Try that. It gives you way more dexterity and fine motor control,” Sunset offered helpfully. “Most of your fingers operate individually and fairly independently, which gives them the same kind of precision your horn has.” She could see understanding light up Twilight’s face. “Believe me, it took me forever to figure out hands.”

Somewhat quicker scribbling, and Twilight set aside her notes, handing Sunset a sheaf of parchment held together with twine. “I did copy my notes on the Elements of Harmony and on friendship magic, so you could look through them....which includes the half done spell from Starswirl that caused a near disaster in Ponyville with the Elements and my friends’ cutie marks.” Twilight snorted. “I had to undo the whole mess and finish the spell, and honestly? I’m still not sure exactly what the purpose of the spell was.”

That got Sunset to stop skimming through the top page of notes and stare at Twilight. “Wait. Since when was Starswirl interested in cutie marks and just what did this spell do?” Unease crawled up her spine—her cutie mark was a part of her very identity and the mere thought of magic involving them was unsettling. One hand rubbed her thigh where her own mark should have sat proudly. “Everypony knows that using magic to affect cutie marks is dangerous.”

She could feel her friends watching them with confused interest, as Twilight sighed and tossed her head. “I didn’t know it either until the spell went off and scrambled my friends cutie marks around through some kind of sympathetic magical link with their Elements. It was a very rough day for Ponyville. I’m just not sure if swapping cutie marks around was the purpose of the spell or an accident...” She frowned. “He was a great wizard, but his note-taking was abysmal.”

Giggling from her friends interrupted Sunset’s train of thought. She turned towards them, arching an eyebrow. “Let me guess,” she commented dryly. “Cutie marks?”

While the princess looked on in confusion, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie laughed harder, and even Fluttershy smiled behind her hand. “No wonder you spent so much time trying to be a badass,” the sports star teased. “I would have too!”

Sunset rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but smirk. “Get it out of your system now, Dash. Cutie marks are a hugely important part of pony magic.” She considered how to explain it, to distill such a core part of her own existence down into a few words. “Cutie marks are...I suppose you can liken them to an outward expression of a pony’s soul and self, representing the talents we have or the things that make us feel alive and complete in life.” A finger tapped the two toned sun that littered her belongings. “This is mine.”

“Uh huh...so what's it mean? I mean, it kinda makes sense—it's a sun, your name is Sunset, that sorta thing, but how does that say who you are?” Rainbow munched on one of Pinkie’s cookies.

Blue-green eyes looked away, ignoring the frown on Princess Twilight’s face. Asking what somepony’s cutie mark meant wasn’t rude, per se... It was just one of those things considered a personal question, not something a stranger would ask another pony, but she reminded herself that these were humans, and her friends. They don’t have cutie marks, Shimmer. They don’t really get it, and they're curious. They want to know more about you and where you come from. Sunset sighed, trying to figure out how best to explain the mess that was her mark. “That’s...complicated. It’s not really words...it’s a feeling, one that comes from deep within, and mine is...it’s not like it is for most ponies.” She rubbed her face. “Originally, I thought it told me where I belonged...but it didn’t. After that, because it was connected to my magic, I thought I’d be a powerful spellcaster...but I was never good enough to impress anyone. Then I thought it meant I was meant for greatness...but that ended with me fleeing to this world. When I was here, planning, ruling the school, I thought it meant that I was to be the new ruler in Equestria…which ended when I took a rainbow to the face. Every time I think I know what it means, life proves me wrong. All I really get are these half formed feelings that what I’m doing sometimes is connected to my cutie mark, that I’m doing something that makes me feel...whole.”

The giggling died away, the atmosphere becoming serious for a long, tense moment as Sunset found herself scrutinized by everyone in the room. It was, of all people, Fluttershy, who spoke first. “It’s got a yin-yang bit in the center. Does...that mean anything in Equestria?” she asked, her expression thoughtful.

Sunset glanced at the princess, guessing she might have spent more time reading on ancient symbols, but Twilight shook her head, looking decidedly uncomfortable now. “We don’t use anything like that in Equestria. There might be something like that in one of the other cultures, but not ponies.”

“Well, here, this symbol belongs to certain cultures. It represents the necessary dual nature of life, that you cannot have good without evil, day without night,” Fluttershy explained.

Rarity cleared her throat. “It is also the cycles of life, of how things change, sometimes symbolized as the idea of birth, death, and rebirth...that every end is a beginning, rising from the remnants of the old, like a phoenix from the ashes.” Then she smiled, knowingly. “Further, in terms of symbolism, especially in astrology, the sun itself is a powerful symbol: fire, leadership, power, strength, nobility, confidence...but also arrogance, ego, selfishness....” Blue eyes pinned Sunset, and she was reminded very strongly that sometimes it felt like Rarity was capable of picking apart and weighing the measure of her soul. “Rather like you, darling.”

Princess Twilight had apparently reached the end of her tolerance for what was, to her, exceptionally rude and bordering on taboo. “Girls,” she interrupted sternly, her voice carrying that note of royal command that Sunset had heard the night of the Fall Formal. “…I understand this isn’t your culture, but what you’re doing right now is not just rude, it’s invasive. Cutie marks are deeply personal things, and it isn’t —”

The unicorn-turned-human raised a hand, forestalling the scolding and the inevitable apologies from her friends. “It’s alright, Twilight.”

“But—!” There was a familiar defensive tone in the alicorn’s voice, one that was identical to Sparky’s ire when she was upset on Sunset’s behalf.

“They didn’t know, and I didn’t stop them,” Sunset interrupted her again, meeting purple eyes. “Let it go…please.” She took a deep breath, still holding Twilight’s gaze. Eventually, the other pony faltered, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Thank you,” she murmured, patting the princess’ shoulder. She tried smiling at her friends, but the expression felt…forced. Fake. They could tell too, she realized. “It’s okay girls…I just…give me like ten minutes? I…need to clear my head.”

“Go,” Applejack said evenly. “We’ll hold down the fort, mebbe get the rest of that stuff unpacked. Take yer time.”

On shaky legs, Sunset left the room, headed for her sanctuary in the library. It was too much, all at once, to process while handling her friends and the princess too. She needed the quiet, the privacy, to think and feel and react. Locking the door behind her, she sank into the beanbag on the floor, staring at a blank spot on the wall without really seeing it. What did it mean that the one thing in her life that had been uniquely, completely, and undeniably hers had held a human symbol all along? Did it mean she’d been fated to fail as Celestia’s student? Was that why she had seen her human form in the mirror the night the Princess of the Sun had let her look into it? Was her fall, her transformation into a monster…were those things always going to happen?

Memory tickled at the back of her mind, from that night that felt like a lifetime ago. Of the voice, the white expanse, the mirror…of its parting words to her as the Crown of Magic had torn free of her. Was that what it had meant about her being ‘meant for a different path?’ That she’d been marked all along to be exiled to this world? Was that why she’d never quite fit in in Equestria? Why she’d been so different? Or was she reading too much into it? It was so hard to say, because she couldn’t even say for certain exactly when the fiery sun had appeared on her flank, only when it had been discovered…

They were on the third tub of steaming bathwater, and Sunset was still caked in mud from her barrel to her tail. It had taken the Princess forever to get the mud out of her mane alone, but she’d managed, and the fiery curls were plastered to her head and neck. Little Philomena was finally clean, and had made a comfortable nest for herself in Sunset’s wet mane, occasionally letting out sleepy cheeping sounds and affectionately pecking at one of the filly’s ears. Familiar magic in sunshine gold held a washcloth lathered with soap, rubbing and scrubbing away mud and debris, making Sunset’s skin twitch whenever the soap stung the little scratches she’d acquired during her misadventure into the muck. Princess Celestia was humming Sunset’s lullaby, the notes making her yawn. She wanted a nap. Oh well…at least the water was nice and warm.

“You certainly are quite a mess, my little sun. I didn’t know one small filly could get this much mud stuck to her.” The princess smiled at her, one of those happy, funny smiles that only Sunset got to see. “You are also very lucky, Sunset. You could have gotten hurt, and I wouldn’t have known how to find you.”

Her ears flattened to her head, disappearing in the mass of soggy hair. “I’m sorry, Princess…I didn’t mean to do anything bad…I just…wanted to save them. Even if I didn’t do so good at that either…” Tears welled up in her eyes before she could stop them.

A soft wingtip brushed her shoulders in a partial embrace, before wiping away the tear that made its way down her cheek. “Shhh…You did a very noble and brave thing, little sun. I’m very proud of you for trying so hard to save a life—you have a big heart, Sunset.”

The words made Sunset feel like she was ready to burst from happiness. Beaming at the princess, she pawed at the water with a front hoof. “I wanted to do like you,” she told the mare shyly. “You said that we should help others who are hurt and scared, even if we don’t know them. That's why we went there even though it was late and I was already sleeping, right? Helping was more important than bedtime, or lessons, or pancakes.” The filly paused, tiny brow furrowing. “And more important than not getting in trouble.”

Princess Celestia was silent, and Sunset shrank in on herself. Had she gotten it wrong? Was the princess not proud of her anymore? Carefully, that tiny hoof reached out to touch a white furred leg. “M—Princess Celestia?”

The strange, scary quiet disappeared, as did the way the princess’ eyes looked at her but not at her. “...you did well, my little sun,” she murmured, brushing her hoof gently against Sunset’s cheek. For a second, Sunset thought Princess Celestia sounded sad, but that was gone as the alicorn smiled at her. “But it means now you’re a very muddy little filly who I have to get clean.”

Sunset giggled, but submitted to the scrubbing, distracted by telling Philomena all about the best things in the palace. Like the cookies, which the kitchens always had plenty of. She barely heard Princess Celestia ask her to stand, and doing as she was told didn’t even slow her talking.

But Princess Celestia’s sudden gasp did. She stopped talking about the best places to stargaze, her ears and the head turning towards the alicorn. “What’s wrong, Princess Celestia?”

The princess was focused on the patch of fur on Sunset’s flank, scrubbing much more gently now to get the layers of mud off. “Did you cut yourself, Sunset? Or Your fur is stained red here and—” Princess Celestia’s eyes widened. “Oh, Sunset,” she said in the softest voice Sunset had ever heard. “When did this happen?”

“What? What is it? Lemme see!” She craned her head around, trying to see what the alicorn was looking at, but only ended up going in circles and catching a bit of red against the warm sunny color of her fur.

This time it was hooves and wings that enfolded her in a nice warm hug, despite the mud and the wet. She leaned into the embrace, nuzzling happily into white fur. The princess kissed the top of her head. “My precious little sun,” she responded, sounding happy and sad at the same time, “you truly are a special filly. You’ve earned your cutie mark.”

Shock and awe raced through her. “I did? I thought I was too little! What is it?” She squirmed, wanting to get out of the hug to see her new mark. “I thought you were supposed to know when you get it, Princess Celestia. I don’t feel any different, and I didn’t feel different today.” Finally getting free, Sunset tried to contort herself to view it, managing to get a glimpse of red and a darker gold on her fur. Her eyes squinted and she flicked on ear playfully against Philomena. “It's colored like you, Philomena! But I can’t see what it is? Is it a phoenix, Princess?”

“No, Sunset....it’s a sun...a very pretty, fiery, bold sun, perfect for a very pretty and bold filly.” A mirror floated into view in the princess’ magic, turning so Sunset could see her new cutie mark.

Blue-green eyes went wide. “It looks like yours, Princess Celestia!”

The Princess of the Sun didn’t answer, but her eyes were shining.

Author's Note

Little bit of world building lore in this one, and a little glimpse into both our favorite redhead and pony culture in the Rubicon universe! (The next two chapters after this will be pretty lore heavy as well, so...I hope you lot are excited for that!)

And look, if ANY of the human girls was into horoscopes, astrology, and the like, it'd be Rarity. She probably knows Tarot too.