I Wrote This At the End of the Show Because I Still Exist
A polka-dotted ball shot across the springy grass. It wasn't alone in its flight for long; three separate foals galloped—giggling—towards it, nipping at the air with their young muzzles to be the first to grasp the far-flung object. From the fringes of the grassy field, several more youngsters rushed in to intercept. The ball dashed left and right, aimed at two separate miniature nets but not quite making it towards either.
Along the sidelines, the parents of the amateur little hoofball players whooped and neighed with cheer. Fathers shifted back and forth between encouraging their progeny and sharing work stories with fellow neighbors. Mothers squatted on the grass, sharing gossip with their familiars while infants rolled over picnic blankets and played little games with the ladybugs flitting past their fuzzy little noses.
Off in the distant of the park, lovers perched on park benches, nuzzling each other close as they share secrets in the sunlight. Joggers briskly trotted up and down the winding dirt paths, while older ponies took their sweet time drinking in the warm afternoon with the occasional breeze.
A blue sky hung overhead, crisp and serene as an ocean harbor. The barest hint of wispy clouds tickled the horizon, and birds were all about—serenading their aerial stunts as they kissed the verdant treetops of Everfree Forest to the west.
She saw all of this from where she sat alone on a park bench. It was just as she remembered, which is what made her heart sank.
Then something sunk her heart even lower. A voice. Familiar. Inquisitive.
“Sunset? Sunset Shimmer...?”
Sunset's head tilted to the right.
Starlight Glimmer craned her neck into view. The mare's muzzle was agape, slowly morphing into a disbelieving smile. “Wow... it really is you! What a treat!” She leaned in almost immediately and gave the mare a friendly nuzzle. “Well... heck... welcome to Ponyville, girl!”
Sunset merely sat in place, her neck stiff as concrete—as if she had forgotten how to return the gesture. Two forelimbs lifted but couldn't quite reach Starlight's withers. By the time the moment had past, she simply shifted back, resting her limbs to her fuzzy chest in an awkward slump.
“I... uh... didn't know you were an outside pony,” Sunset said.
“Pfffft... what's that supposed to mean?” Starlight leaned away with a wry smirk. “This has been my home for years now. Don't you even read my letters?”
Sunset inhaled. “I read every letter.”
Silence.
“How... did you even make it out here without anyone in the Castle seeing you come through the portal?” Starlight rubbed her chin in thought. “Spike's usually pretty good about keeping an eye on the front gates, at least.”
Sunset exhaled. “I just... felt like going for a walk.”
“Yeah, but in Equestria though?!” Starlight trotted up towards the bench and made to sit down. “That's—like—super special! You should have told us you were stopping by—May I?”
Sunset merely shrugged. “It's a free country.” She winced, eyes rolling. “Eugh... sorry, habitual catch phrase from the other side.”
“Heheheh...” Starlight squatted on the seat next to Sunset. “Don't you fret. Same rules apply.”
Sunset breathed long and hard through her nostrils. “Yeah...” She returned her gaze to the foalish hoofball game transpiring in front of them and then said nothing.
Silence.
“When was the last time you...?” Starlight began.
Sunset finished: “Right after Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle and I had to borrow the Staff of Sacanas—” Her muzzle scrunched. “Wait, no... about... three... four journal replacements later...”
“Oh—right before last year's Hearth's Warming!” Starlight exclaimed. “I remember now! You stayed a little while to help us decorate the fireplace mantle!”
“Yeah...”
“You seemed like you were in such a hurry at the time.” Starlight smirked. “Lots of Friendship Business back in the human world?”
“Mmmmmmm... yeah...”
“Well, unless you're visiting for official business, you should stay longer this time!” Starlight's grin was bright and inviting. “I just came back from having lunch with my BFF Trixie. My whole afternoon's free! I can show you around! Give you a true blue tour of Ponyville! When was the last time you visited the town in its entirety?”
“I...” Sunset squirmed. “I-I don't know...”
“We should tell Twilight that you've stopped by! I'm sure she'd be thrilled to see—”
“No,” Sunset said firmly, her teeth showing. “Don't tell—I mean...” A wince.
Starlight blinked.
Gulping, Sunset hung her head a little. “That is... if you don't mind. I just...” Her ears drooped as well. “...I just wanna... sit here.” A gulp. “No fuss. No ceremony. Just... not really in the mood to speak face to face with the Princess right now.”
More silence.
“Sunset Shimmer...?” Starlight's voice had lowered to a soft cadence of concern. “...is everything alright?”
The visitor from another world was already groaning. “I shouldn't have come here...” Sunset's limbs shifted—as if she was about to get up.
“No. Wait. Please.” Starlight reached a hoof out. “You were just chilling here on your lonesome. And then I had to come here and ruin it.” Her throat tightened. “I'm sorry.”
“You didn't ruin anything...”
“Then... at the risk of self-fulling prophecy...” Starlight cocked her head at a friendly angle. “...may I ask what's troubling you?”
Sunset stared lethargically across the beautiful vistas of Ponyville.
Starlight prodded: “Is there... a friendship problem that's gotten you all stressed out?”
Sunset shook her head. “No. Things have been pretty... friendly, over there.” A slight upper tug to her lips. “More than friendly, even.”
Starlight poked: “Has there been... a magical problem?”
Again, Sunset shook. “No. Our magical geodes have been powerful enough to stop most crises before they even start.”
“Is the high school still standing?”
“We've all graduated, Starlight.”
Starlight winced, kneading the bench's edge with her hooves. “Oh. Uhm...”
“College is going well,” Sunset said. “Rarity's getting a good start on her fashion business. Rainbow Dash is pursuing a promising athletic scholarship. Fluttershy and Applejack are working on a 'magical nature preserve' just outside of Camp Everfree—it'll protect wildlife that have been magically augmented by manifestations of Equestria energies on our side of the portal.”
“Oh! Neato!”
“Pinkie Pie's got this wonderful catering business up and running.” Sunset's eyes scoured the horizon. “Twilight's finally caved in and gotten herself a new toothbrush that doesn't look so darn similar to mine.”
Starlight's brow furrowed at that.
“All in all...” Sunset shrugged. “...we've got all our bases covered.”
“Bases?”
Sunset looked at the foals playing in the field. “Different world. Different sport. Different analogy.”
“Ah.” Starlight nodded. “So... friendship is pretty magical over there?”
“Mmmmhmmm...” Sunset breathed. “Accomplished everything that could possibly be done in the name of 'Harmony.' And then some.”
Starlight smiled. “I bet Princess Twilight would be proud of you.”
Sunset's eyes fell.
Starlight noticed it. She gently pried: “Is... that the problem, Sunset?”
The visitor looked hesitant at first. She stared into the texture of the well-kempt earth beneath them for a spell. Eventually, she said:
“Whenever there's a crisis here in Equestria... does it feel dangerous? Like... at all?”
“We haven't had a crisis in a very long time,” Starlight said.
“Try and remember back when you did.”
“Uh... s-sorry.” Starlight cleared her throat and spoke: “The last time Tirek tore through the land, everypony was scared stupid. I mean... it's never a tranquil thing to have your very own livelihood threatened by rampaging beasts every other season or so.” The mare winced at her own words. “When... when I begin to think of the entire universes I myself once birthed into being and subsequently erased from history by—”
Sunset interrupted the mare before she could pontificate on past villainy: “Everything eventually returns to normal in the end, though, right?”
“Well... yeah...” Starlight nodded. “I mean... heheheh...” She fluffed her mane self-consciously. “Ever since the Elements of Harmony came back into being, it's been one disaster after another completely averted.” A shuddering exhale, then a relaxed state. “And now... peace and harmony in Equestria.”
“But there's always been peace in harmony in Equestria.” A pause, and Sunset looked at Starlight for vindication. “Y'know?”
Starlight slowly nodded. “You're not wrong there.”
Stillness. Foals and ponies laughed in the distance between bird song.
Starlight asked: “Is that not the same over in your world, Sunset?”
Sunset sighed. “... … ...I'm cheating by even coming here.”
Starlight arched an eyebrow. “The heck is that supposed to mean?”
Sunset spoke in a dull tone: “Almost every magical manifestation in my world has been dealt with. The Storm King's residue has been abated. The geodes have been tamed. All manner of magical artifacts have been secured. Even the Sirens have given up their leeching ways.”
Starlight managed a proud smile. “Sounds like a squeaky clean track record to me!”
Sunset did not mirror her enthusiasm. “The students of Canterlot High are safe—and they've moved on to better things. Principals Celestia and Luna are doing well for themselves; they've even fixed the statue above the portal.” Sunset shook her mane in a brief wind. “Even Crystal Prep is doing well for itself, and I hear that Abacus Cinch has reached out to her former colleagues to amend for her past sins. Maybe it's her daughter's doing.”
“Abacus who?”
Sunset went on: “No, everything back on the Rainbooms' front is... pretty good, actually.” She took a deep breath. “But... it doesn't show for it. Not like it does here. And... that's why it's cheating... to enjoy all this.”
Starlight simply stared at her.
“Everything here is so bright and cheerful. So cringeingly sugary and sweet.” Sunset's eyes narrowed. “There's no doubt that everypony is happy... that they have wholesome homes to go back to... that they won't be mugged or run over along the way.” Her gaze grew more and more distant. “There's nobody waiting in the wings to exploit you here. No aloof organization from afar profiting off of everything you do or don't do... polluting the world in your name with nothing you can ever do about it.”
“I've met more than a few unsavory ponies in my day, Sunset, including myself,” Starlight drawled with a slick smirk. “Equestria is hardly a paradise.”
“No. I suppose it's not.” Sunset gazed skyward. “You've got dragons and Storm Kings and changeling monarchs and all sorts of Tartarusian baddies.” Her ears twitched. “But what I wouldn't give for dealing with any of those—or all of those at once—in exchange for what really rules the roost back home.”
Starlight blinked curiously.
Sunset continued: “The magic that I and the Rainbooms employ have certainly saved the day more than once—but not tomorrow, Starlight. Where I live, there are forces... entities at play who have been controlling things for eons. Still do. Still will. And no single person—much less seven of them—are enough to make everything better. Oh—we'll act like we are. We can protest—out in the open or in our portable digital sanctuaries. But the fact of the matter is that none of it ever truly matters. True power for change belongs in the hands of those who have held that same power for generations upon generations... and the only real way to enact a difference is to incite violence... the sort of violence to rival the malevolence that created such loathsome institutions in the first place. And even if change happens—the violence that brings it about only promises a worse system than what was established beforehand.”
Sunset Shimmer looked helplessly at her friend.
“So people settle,” she continued. “They settle for the system at play. Sure, they'll pretend that they're opposed to it. They'll run through all the superficial ceremony of 'resistance' and 'outrage,' but at the end of the day the truth is clear: we can live with imperfection. We can live with inequality. We can live with exploitation and pollution and avarice. History where I live proves that the only way to wash away blood is with twice as many buckets of even more blood. It's a vicious cycle, and even the wisest doomsday speech only ever predicts the next revolution and nothing of a respite. Friendship? Harmony? The magic of the Rainbooms? It's just a drop in the well... a well so deep that even Princess Twilight and all of the wisest sages of Equestria couldn't dig us out of it. In my world... it's possible to do everything right by those around you and still be enabling evil. And—what's worse—it's all as clear as day... and it never... ever changes. And it never will. So...”
Sunset gulped, then gazed out at the field once again.
“...I come here. I make myself feel like I'm in a world that is good.” Her nostrils flared. “I cheat.”
Starlight managed a weak smile. “If you were actually ever meant to change the universe, Sunset, then why do you suppose we were given more than one of them?”
“That's no friggin' excuse...” Sunset groaned, shaking her head. “I'm running away by being here. If I actually cared about my world... if I actually gave a flying feather... then I'd trot right back through that portal and give absolutely everything to solve the problems where I live.” She clenched her teeth. “Including myself.”
“And then where would your friends be?” Starlight asked. “Without somepony as bright and beautiful and inspiring as you?”
“You're talking to the wrong pony—”
“No, I'm talking to the rightest pony who has ever righted.” Starlight leaned in. “Sunset, deep down inside, you've always been a pony.”
“I used to tell myself that all the time,” Sunset muttered, avoiding eye contact. “Even when I was doing the whole villain schtick back at CHS. Fat load of good those excuses did me then...”
“Well, maybe you simply forgot what it means.” Starlight's eyes narrowed. “Sunset Shimmer, being a pony doesn't mean being perfect.”
“Uh huh—”
“What it means...” Starlight spoke through the visitor's exterior. “...is everything you've ever done since you grasped the magic of friendship. Helping those around you. Inspiring confidence. Inspiring goodness—in spite of whatever 'hopeless' world you may be living in.”
“What does it all even mean in the long run?”
“What it means is that you do good by you,” Starlight said. “And you do good by others.” She slowly shook her head. “You think any single pony could change the course Equestria's on either? Sure, maybe the die of fate have rolled luckily for my world and unluckily for yours... but you can't be your world. You can only be you.”
“Guh...” Sunset face-hoofed, shivering slightly. “I should never have come here.”
“Why not?”
“It's a crutch. It's always been a crutch.” Sunset swallowed a lump down her throat, shivering more. “Just... a whole lot of fluff and good feelings and song lyrics... … ...I think that's why I ultimately had to leave it.”
“Sunset...”
“I'm really sorry for bothering you on such a beautiful day, Starlight—”
“Sunset, look at me.”
Reluctantly, the mare did so.
Starlight smiled. “There'll be always be ponies.” She leaned forward to nuzzle the other mare. “And there'll always be you.”
A tender sound squeaked out of Sunset's muzzle upon her friend's contact. The two lingered there, grazing fuzzy cheek to fuzzy cheek. When the embrace parted, there were tears lining the edges of Sunset's eyes—not quite falling. The blissful victim of two worlds' struggling gravity.
“There'll always be p-ponies,” Sunset stammered.
Starlight nodded, beaming back. “That's right.”
Sunset breathed and breathed—until the shivers ceased. “There'll always be ponies,” she repeated, much more steadily this time. The next inhale brought her body upright, and the tears squeezed right back in as she gazed once more at the delicious countryside, digesting it finally. “There'll always be ponies.”
“Now don't wear it out.” In a spry jump, Starlight landed on the grass beside the bench. She swiveled with an adorable flounce of her mane and held a hoof out towards her friend. “How about a bite at Sugarcube Corner?”
“Yeah...” Sunset released, finally coming down from her pedestal to join Starlight. “Yeah, I think I would like that.”
And so the two mares crossed town to the bakery...
…and they did.
