Sunset and Tempest Fail to Save Hearth's Warming Eve
The mouth of the cave spoke.
Often times, it spoke the grunts and broken chatter of diamond dogs. Others, it shrieked with bats and whistled with the wind. Grumbles of earth, protests of rock, whimpers of those seeking shelter from the harshness of the Crystal Mountains in the winter.
But today, the day before Hearth’s Warming Eve, the mouth spoke with duality—
“Real smart, Fizzlepop!”
“You were the one who suggested going in through the cave. And for the third time, my name is Tempest!”
—and heat, for two unicorns swung by their back hooves, with the ground above them.
“For a former student of Princess Celestia, you are awfully untactful.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Suuuure. No tactics were involved when I stole Twilight’s crown and took over a high school.”
“It’s by my understanding that you strong-armed your way in.”
“Strong-arming is a tactic!”
“A poor one.”
“Says the mare that stormed Canterlot Palace with airships,” Sunset rebutted, with her mouth curling into a lopsided smile.
“At least I succeeded in my mission to capture the princesses.”
“Except for Princess Twilight, of course.”
“Including Princess Twilight,” Tempest replied with a level voice and a piercing stare.
“I call pony-feathers. Twilight defeated you!”
“No, she did not. I rebelled against my commander and joined forces with Princess Twilight.”
Sunset snickered to herself briefly before it erupted into a full belly-laugh. She reared her head back, sending her swinging and spinning in the gunk which had them bound.
“She absolutely defeated you then! She made you see you were in the wrong, which led to you turning around. Sure, it probably didn’t happen with friendship beams or a song, but you definitely lost!”
“But it’s my understanding that it was not the crushing defeat that you experienced.”
Sunset’s laughter died in its track, shrinking to a slight chuckle being coughed out. “Yeah, that’s about right.” Her forelegs twitched, as if she had forgotten she was wrapped in yellow-brown slimy silk. “Oh, yeah,” she tittered.
Sunset’s horn illuminated the dark mouth of the cave with a deep red, pointing it at the strand connecting her binds to the ceiling. A sharp blast of energy shot through the air and struck the yellow-brown goop, promptly bouncing off it and slicing through an unfortunate crystal stalagtite behind Tempest. The crystal plummeted, missing her by a hair, and shattered against the rock underneath.
Tempest’s face didn’t morph in rage or fear; instead, her brow extended upward—or downward, under the perspective of anyone with their hooves on the ground—with her eyes fixed on the mare next to her.
“I can’t tell,” she began, “if that was intentional, or if you are actually so stupid—”
“What, do you think I aimed for that stalagtite?”
“Ah, so you really are so stupid—”
“Stupid?!” What do you mean ‘stupid’? I was—”
“Princess Celestia’s personal student, yes. I know. Equestria knows. The lunar rocks Nightmare Moon ate know. It’s very public knowledge and you never miss a beat in mentioning it.”
“I like taking pride in my achievements, alright?”
“You had a temper tantrum because you couldn’t be a princess,” Tempest stated dryly, “and fled Equestria through a magic mirror portal.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I know. I was a lousy student, a selfish person.” Sunset inhaled a deep breath. “I’ve tried—oh, heavens, have I tried—to atone, but no one really seems to get that I’m sorry.” She snorted, the fog barely visible in the moonlight. “Maybe that’s why I don’t come home often. Because at this point, they’re just beating a dead pony.”
Sunset’s momentum still spun her, at the speed of cold molasses, and she was now facing away from Tempest.
Tempest pulled her mouth to the side. There was a ping of regret in her heart; while she couldn’t relate, she did sympathize. And that was pretty rare in and of itself.
But as she opened her mouth, an odd shadow flittered near the snowed-in entrance to the cave. It was almost shapeless, with no distinct legs or body shape. And it grew in size, drawing closer and closer.
“Sunset, look,” Tempest whispered. “Down there at the entrance.”
Sunset tilted her head toward the shadow. “What is that?”
“My guess is trouble. Stay sharp.”
The shadow entered the cave, blotting out what little moonlight eeked in, followed by the figure it drew from. It was tall, taller than the average mare. it glided along the cave floor and stopped.
Tempest and Sunset had to force their breathing to remain, as their heartbeats pounded their ears. They could feel the figure’s gaze upon them, boring a hole into their souls as it approached closer.
“Tempest? Sunset?”
A magenta flash illuminated the cave, revealing the two unicorns, helplessly constricted and swaying from the roof. Tempest’s and Sunset’s ears perk up at the familiar, looking down to see Princess Twilight, little more than earmuffs and a blush from the cold to her normal appearance—not counting the bemused expression wiped across her face.
Sunset donned a nervous, crooked smile. “H-Hey, Twilight, how’re you doing?”
“The polar bugbears have been dealt with already,” Twilight replied. “Both the male and his mate showed up right after you two galloped off for its den. It took about five minutes to deal with them.”
“What?” Tempest scoffed. “How is that possible.”
“Flutteshy,” Twilight and Sunset said simultaneously, one matter-of-factly and the other dejectedly. Sunset let her head go limp.
Twilight looked between the two, studying them. “And I can see you two have been getting along swimmingly,” she remarked, “judging by how both of you are breathing and conscious.”
Both of them glared daggers at her.
“Aww, still touchy?” Twilight levitated a piece of crystal off the ground. “I think I can fix that for both of you.” Her magic pulled the rock back and then flung it upward toward the strands keeping Sunset and Tempest suspended. It effortlessly snapped both, like an arrow sailing through parchment, sending them screaming toward the ground. At the last moment, Twilight’s horn sparked to catch them and set them down gently.
“Bugbear den traps are highly magic-resistant, but easy to break physically.” Twilight picked up a stray twig and used it to picked apart Sunset’s binds. “You could’ve easily chewed your way out,” she said, moving on to free Tempest.
Tempest’s muzzle scrunched up. “The thought of that is disgusting by itself, never minding what are actually in den traps.”
Sunset gagged on the idea, and Twilight snickered to herself.
“So, are you ready to come back to the Crystal Empire?” Twilight asked, circling around them, toward the front of the cave. “I’d like to get some sleep before Flurry Heart rises the entire palace for Hearth’s Warming Eve.”
“Fine by me, Princess,” Tempest said, walking ahead in a stature similar to a royal guard’s.
Sunset gave no answer, simply folliowing Tempest out of the cave.
“Sunset...”
“Yeah?”
Twilight offered her a pitiful smile. “I know things have been rough on you since you returned permanently, but I don’t think reckless behavior like venturing into a blizzard in the Frozen North to fight a magical beast is the answer to your problems.”
Sunset sighed heavily. “Then what should I do?”
“Redemption isn’t always earned by saving the day. It can done slowly, making small amends when you can, where you can.”
Sunset passed her, head low, stepping out into the bank of snow that drifted into the cave. “I don’t even know where to start with that.”
Twilight joined her. “For as long as I’ve known her, Tempest always spends Hearth’s Warming alone. Which nopony should.” She gave Sunset a soft smile. “Maybe this year it can be different?”
Sunset’s eyes became distant with thought for a second, snapping back with a blink of her eyes. Maybe this year can be different. Maybe this is a place to start.
“It’s never too late,” Twilight said. She tossed her head in Tempest’s direction outside. “Go. Have a Happy Hearth’s Warming.” There was then a blinding blink of light, and the only thing that accompanied Sunset was the cold whisper of the cave echoing Twilight’s words.
Without another thought, she galloped off to fix that.
