Turning UpView OnlineTurning HumanTurning UpHer gold-scaled fin slipped easily through the clear water. Light, shimmering down from the surface, glinted off her lithe form. Her gills pulsed as she breathed. Beneath her, the seabed glided by, sand and rocks and seaweed. Bright coral dotted the ground, and among it swam fish, crawled crabs. A school of minnows swam below her, and she could feel them, feel the little vibrations their small fins made in the water. Little ripples in an endless ocean. She reached down with her head and snapped at one that had dared come too close with needle-like teeth. The others scattered, their constellation broken. This was her ocean. With a flick of her tail, she propelled herself forward, her body snaking through the water. Where was she going? Nowhere in particular. Like a queen surveying her kingdom, so did she move with grace and purpose. Then, a shadow. It passed over her, great and fearsome, clouding the waters for an impossibly long moment before moving on. She snapped her head up and around, looking for the thing’s source, a twinge of fear lit in her heart, but there was nothing there. She floated there for a second, weightless, caution in her eyes. But there was nothing. She snorted, little bubbles emerging from her snout, and thought nothing of it. She turned with a twist of her body, and set off again with a flick of her tail. Except she wasn’t gliding along now. She was sinking. She flapped her fins, but her fins were gone; in their place, a pair of arms stretched out in front of her, ten long, slender fingers grasping for purchase in the water. She desperately tried to flick her tail, only to find it gone in its entirety. Hair, long and golden, bunched around her face like so much seaweed as she sank. She opened her mouth to call out, and water rushed in, air escaping in bubbles that got smaller and smaller as they rose away from her. She thrashed about with her new appendages, but nothing could gain purchase as she slipped deeper and deeper still. Beep. Beep. Beep. The light faded, and everything became pitch black. The seabed was gone; there was only void beneath her, a void that drew her in ever further. Beep. Beep. Beep. She couldn’t breathe. She sank downward, drowning, drowning… Adagio Dazzle shot awake, breathing heavily. The alarm she’d set rang insistently in her earphones. Beep. Beep. Beep. She shut it up with an angry tap on the screen of her phone. She glanced to her left, at the other bed and its occupant. Sonata was lying almost perpendicular to the piece of furniture she was lying on, with her arms and legs splayed out, tangled around her blanket and pillow. She snored, but quietly. Adagio’s lips twitched. Letting out a quiet sigh, she slowly turned and slid out of bed. On went a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Low-profile clothes, for her at least. She did up the zipper as silently as one can. She had someone to meet, that morning, someone she was not looking forward to seeing. She couldn’t afford to wake up her roommates. They’d ask questions, ones she didn’t want to answer. She pulled on a hoodie, a gray one, the sort of thing you wear when you don’t want to be noticed. Not that it would matter; at four in the morning, it was unlikely she’d run into anyone anyway. No one except… well, she’d get to that when she got to that. Opening the door to the bedroom, cringing a little when it squeaked on its hinges (quietly, in reality, but to Adagio it sounded like a train whistle), she slipped out into the main room of the apartment. Slunk past Aria, sleeping on the sofa with a scowl on her face, like always. Incidentally, Aria did not snore. Just scowled. Taking a deep breath, she put her hand on the doorknob, turned it slowly, eyes squeezed shut. It moved smoothly, and the door opened. And so it was that she left the apartment—and her companions, for lack of a better term, they certainly weren’t her friends—behind. The message she’d left for them on the table read as follows: Going away. Don’t bother looking for me. I’ll be back. -Adagio. It was a cool autumn morning, and Adagio shivered a little as she walked towards Canterlot High. Not a place of happy memories—not for her, anyway. And not a place she’d normally go willingly. Normally. But there was an exception to everything. She turned the corner, and there it was, in all its high school glory. The place looked different in the cool grey tones of the early morning; more foreboding, less welcoming. Or maybe that was just because it was her. Either way, she headed towards the courtyard, and the statue of a horse in the middle of it. A figure stood under the statue’s shadow, leaning their back against the pedestal with one leg propped up. It turned at the sound of her footsteps upon the sidewalk, and Adagio got to see a face she’d never wanted to see again—not unless it was under the heel of her boot, anyway. “Sunset Shimmer,” Adagio spat, with all the venom of a cobra. “Adagio,” Sunset replied, coolly but much more calmly. “Are you ready to go?” Adagio’s fists clenched and unclenched in the pocket of her hoodie. She needed her. She had to keep reminding herself of that fact. Otherwise, it would be too much to bear. Too much to bear that she needed Sunset Shimmer’s help. “Obviously,” was the one-word answer she settled on. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” “Fair enough.” It hadn’t been hard for Adagio to track Sunset down. She knew where she went to school, after all; it had just been a matter of following her back to her apartment, waiting for her friends to leave her alone, and then pacing back and forth in front of her door until she worked up the nerve to knock. Not that she was nervous, no; it wasn’t that at all. She’d been met with suspicion, at first, but Sunset had been surprisingly willing to listen to her. Thankfully. She hadn’t had a plan B. She suspected Sunset pitied her. Well, whatever. She could work with that. “So,” Adagio said. “The portal back to Equestria. Where is it?” “You’re looking at it.” Sunset gestured towards the statue. “You’re joking.” “I’m not. Look.” The other girl extended her arm out to the edge of the stone… and in a burst of dim light, her hand passed through it. “Come on, see for yourself.” She beckoned Adagio over, a gesture which Adagio reluctantly followed. She reached out cautiously and put her hand to the surface of the stone… only there was no surface. Her hand slipped right through, as if it were water, only it was warm on the other side, and she could feel something—Equestrian magic, she thought—faintly brushing her fingertips. The sensation was fainter than she’d have liked. “This is it?” she said. “This whole time, the way back to Equestria was here, right under our noses?” “That about sums it up.” Adagio let out a growl, ran a hand down her face. “Figures.” “Don’t worry about it. It’s only open now because of Princess Twilight.” Adagio looked at Sunset. A sneer crossed her face. “I guess I don’t need you now, do I?” “Hey,” Sunset said, frowning. “That was our deal, remember? I take you back to Equestria, you let me tag along as your chaperone. Besides, I don’t think you’d get very far without me. Things have changed a lot since you were banished.” She was right… not that Adagio would admit it. “I was joking.” “Good.” Adagio looked back at the smooth stone surface of the statue… the portal. Back to Equestria. Back home. She took a step forward… Something caught her foot. She tripped. “Whoa, careful!” Sunset grabbed her hand, catching her before she hit the ground. For just a split-second, Adagio could have sworn her eyes flashed white. But then the moment was over. Sunset pulled her back to her feet. Adagio glared at her, ripped her hand away. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. Sunset put her arms up, a reconciliatory gesture. “Sorry.” Taking a deep breath, Adagio once again turned her attention to the portal. She took a step forward…
Turning InView OnlineTurning HumanTurning InIn an unlit room in a castle made of crystal, a mirror flashed, and a figure emerged from it. Not human, but equine, yet still walking on its back hooves. Not for long, though. Adagio, windmilling her arms—forelegs—fell forward, landing in a heap on her chest with her posterior in the air. The room lit with a flash a second time, and Sunset emerged, dropping easily onto all fours. She looked at Adagio, who was groaning. “Yeah, the first time’s rough. It’ll get easier.” Adagio’s eyes widened, and she quickly tried to get to her feet—hooves—and— Wait. That was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to have four. Awkwardly, she stood, on uncertain and unfamiliar legs, and her eye caught her reflection in the mirror she’d emerged from. Parts of her figure were familiar; the colours were right, for instance, and she had two forehooves—but that was about where it ended. For one thing, her tail was missing—or, no, not missing, just wrong. Instead of the long, shark-like tail ending in fins she remembered (from so, so long ago), this one was merely pony hair, orange and yellow, like her mane. Mane—that was another thing she wasn’t supposed to have, and yet there it was, resembling closely the hair she had in her more human form. A set of gills adorned either side of her neck. She looked down at her hooves. Little fins trailed off their backs. The good news was she wasn’t a pony, not entirely. The bad news was she wasn’t a siren, either. Instead, she looked like… something in between. Sunset looked her up and down, concern on her muzzle. “You look… different than I remember.” Adagio grit her teeth so hard they might have broken. She whipped her head away. “Come on. Before someone sees us.” No one could know. That was the condition Adagio had set, after Sunset had insisted on tagging along on this little journey. Not Aria and Sonata; not any of Sunset’s friends; and especially not Princess Twilight Sparkle. “Hey now,” Sunset said, concern—concern!—now in her voice, as well. “Are you sure you’re okay? This doesn’t seem—” “I said,” Adagio hissed, “let’s go.” Sunset looked like she wanted to say something more, but Adagio didn’t give her the chance, heading towards the room’s exit. Sunset shrugged and followed after her. “So this thing you wanted to get back,” Sunset said, once they were in the hall (her leading the way, now; she was the only one who knew how to get out of Twilight’s castle). “You feel like telling me what it is yet?” “No.” That was the sob story she’d given Sunset: that she’d left something behind in Equestria when she’d been banished all those years ago, and she wanted it back. It was a total—well, Adagio supposed, it wasn’t a total lie; she was here to get something back, something very important. It just wasn’t a trinket. “Is that a problem?” she half asked, half growled. “No,” Sunset said. “But, like, I’m going to find out what it is eventually.” “Then you don’t need to ask, do you.” “I guess I don’t.” The dawn was just breaking when they emerged from the front of the castle, the first of the sun’s rays peeking over the mountains to the east. “Welcome to Ponyville,” Sunset said, with a smile on her face. Adagio ignored the comment. Instead, she turned her head one way… then the other. And there it was, to the east. The connection was still there. It was faint, but she was still siren enough to feel it… feel her. Like a lighthouse, far in the distance, sounding a foghorn that called out to her. Come home, it said. Come home to me. She turned, towards that distant voice. “This way.” She began walking, towards the hills off in the distance. Sunset quickly circled around in front of her. “Whoa, whoa! Hold on, there. Where are we going, exactly?” Adagio pointed. “That way. Duh.” “Right, yeah, I understood that part,” Sunset said. “I mean, what’s over that way that we’re going to?” Adagio sighed. “We need to get to the, what was it the ponies called it… the Celestial Sea. The thing I’m looking for is… at the bottom of it.” “What the ponies called it? Why, what do you call it?” Adagio gave her a look. “Home.” “Duly noted,” Sunset said. “It’d be a lot faster to take the train to the coast. Beats walking, anyway. We can maybe take a boat from there.” Adagio looked at her, surprised. “Equestria has trains?” “Uh… yeah? For the last couple decades or so.” “Huh.” The thought had never occurred to her. Some things had to have changed in her absence, sure, but she didn’t think ponies were clever enough for mass transit. Oh well. It had been a long time, after all. “I guess we’ll take the train then. Lead the way.” Sunset did so, taking them in the opposite direction; towards town. The streets were mostly barren, the key word being mostly. The few ponies that were wandering the streets at that Celestia-forsaken hour gave Sunset (as an outsider) welcoming looks and Adagio (as a strange, half-pony, half-siren) slightly less welcoming ones. Adagio ignored them; who cared if they stared? Ponies were beneath her, anyway. Which is why she kept her head down and glared back at anyone who so much as looked her way. “Come on,” Sunset said, nudging her with a forehoof. “Be nice.” “Don’t touch me.” “Right.” After what seemed like far too long, they arrived at the train station. The line, it being early, was nonexistent, but the train was there, ready for its morning run. Sunset approached the ticket booth; a mare (who looked far too energized for this hour, Adagio thought) sat behind the glass. Adagio herself decided to wait for her on a bench at the station. She surveyed the train. It was decked out in pastels and looked altogether too friendly. Typical pony design, just in a new shape for her. She did note that it was just a steam train; ponies evidently hadn’t moved on to electricity… yet. Not like humans had. Humans. Adagio looked down at her hoof, but in her mind’s eye it was a hand there, five long, slender fingers jutting out from her palm. Even after all these years, the shape felt alien to her… but not as alien as it had used to. Adagio’s stomach turned. She grit her teeth, put her hoof down. Now was not the time— “Hey, miss!” Adagio started, looked down to her left where the little voice had come from. It was a colt; Adagio didn’t know how to tell how old it was, but from the voice, no more than ten years of age. It was small, though, especially next to her. She raised an eyebrow at it. “Yes?” “Are you a seapony?” “Do I look like a seapony?” “Yeah, kinda!” Adagio looked him in the eyes. She smiled wide, showing her teeth, razor sharp and thin like needles, and suddenly the colt looked very small indeed. “Too bad for you,” she said. “I’m not a seapony. I’m a si—” “Yes!” Sunset cut in, coming from seemingly out of nowhere. “Yes, she’s a seapony.” She glared at Adagio. “A very grumpy seapony.” “O-okay,” the colt stammered. “Is that your mom over there?” Sunset asked, pointing at a mare across the platform. The colt nodded. “Why don’t you go over there and tell her all about your new seapony friend, okay?” The colt nodded again, and scampered off, just a little too quickly. Sunset let out a breath she’d been holding and sat down next to Adagio. “You’re no fun,” Adagio said. “You looked like you were going to eat him.” “He called me a seapony,” Adagio said, indignant. “Maybe I would have.” “And things like this are exactly why you needed a chaperone.” “And here I thought it was because you were afraid I’d try and take over the world again.” Some time passed before their train came in. They took it to Baltimare, mostly in silence. Sunset tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but eventually she gave up trying. Or perhaps she just got sick of Adagio’s glares. Either way. Once in Baltimare, they headed straight for the bay. Sunset arranged their passage on a ship bound for Griffonstone. It was a cargo ship, not a passenger one (not many passenger ships out to Griffonstone, it seemed), but once some bits changed hands (courtesy of Princess Twilight’s treasury), they were good to go. It wasn’t as if they intended to actually reach their destination, after all. Adagio seemed to grow even less talkative the closer they got to the water. The voice echoed in her head, louder now. Come home. Come home to me. Whether that was a good sign or a bad one, she couldn’t tell. The door to their cabin squeaked slightly as Adagio closed it. She tensed. This was the second time in as many days that she’d tried to sneak past someone at night, but it didn’t seem to be getting any less nerve-wracking. The boat sailed smoothly through calm seawater. The moon, big and bright, reflected in shimmering splendor off the waves. She leaned over the railing. How she wished she could just leap off, into the waters… but no. Now wasn’t the time. Besides, it was risky to swim at night; she didn’t know how her vision would adjust in her… present state, and she couldn’t afford to lose the boat. No; she needed to conserve her energy for the days ahead. Still, the waters were so… Come home. …Inviting… Come home to me. “I hope you weren’t thinking of leaving without me.” Adagio grimaced. The voice was Sunset’s, and it snapped her out of her reverie like a hoof snaps a twig. “No,” she said, flatly. “I wasn’t. As much as I would love to.” Sunset walked up behind her; she could hear her hoofsteps, trotting along the deck. “It’s been a while since I was last out at sea,” Sunset said. “This sea, anyway. Celestia took me on a trip to the Dragonlands, once, when I was younger. That boat was a lot nicer than this one, though.” She turned to look at Adagio. “Did you know I used to be a pony? Originally, I mean. I come from Equestria, the same as you.” Adagio snorted. “What, is this supposed to be some big bonding moment? Of course I knew you were from Equestria. You smell like pony.” Sunset raised an eyebrow. “I… smell? Like pony.” “Yes. You reek of it.” “Even in the human world?” “Of course.” “That doesn’t make sense,” Sunset said. “Why would I smell like a pony if I’m in human form? And what does that mean, smelling like pony?” “Sirens have stronger senses than ponies and humans do,” Adagio explained, a tinge of superiority in her voice. “Magical senses, too. And why would being in human form make a difference? You don’t actually turn into a human.” “What?” Adagio turned towards the other mare, incredulity on her face. “I never stop being a siren, and you never stop being a pony. Even though our shape changes, we don’t ‘turn human’ in the human world. Not normally.” Her voice turned smug. “What, did you never realize it? You could still sense Equestrian magic as a human, couldn’t you?” “Well, yeah, but—” “It’s the same with us. We still retained some of our powers on the other side of the portal. We were still—I was still a siren. Just in a different shape.” They continued in silence for a few moments. “…Was?” “What?” “You said ‘was’,” Sunset said. “You said, ‘I was still a siren’.” Adagio opened her mouth… closed it. Opened it again, and said: “I’m turning human.” Sunset blinked. “You’re what?” Adagio rolled her eyes, though she was still turned away from Sunset, so the other girl didn’t see it. “I’m. Turning. Human. Do I need to spell it out for you?” “No, I, I heard you, I just… What does that mean? What do you mean, ‘I’m turning human’?” “It means I’m turning into a human,” Adagio growled. “I don’t smell things… I don’t sense things the way a siren does anymore. Everything feels… wrong. That’s not all—did you know I used to be able to breathe underwater in the human world? I almost drowned the last time I tried. I was half afraid I wouldn’t even have gills when I came back here.” “Is that why you look…” Sunset gestured towards Adagio. “Like that?” “Probably.” Silence, for a time. “What’s so bad about being human?” Sunset asked, her voice a little quieter. Adagio’s response was not. “What isn’t?” she said. “Duller senses, no magic, weak body, tiny lifespan…” “Okay, fair,” Sunset said. “What I meant is that being human isn’t the worst thing.” “It might as well be.” Adagio turned and looked back out over the moonlit sea. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re just a pony.” The last word was stated with contempt… and a little bit of sadness. Sunset approached the railing. “Try me.” Adagio was silent for a few moments. “Do you know where the sirens came from?” “No,” Sunset said. “Just that you emerged from the sea one day and started enslaving ponies.” Adagio snorted. “You don’t know much, do you? Typical.” She took a deep breath. “We, the sirens, are the creations of the Siren-Mother. The Siren-Mother is the source of all magic under the sea, the unquestionable empress of the waters. She is the most powerful being beneath the waves.” “So like Celestia and Luna, but underwater,” Sunset said. Adagio snorted again. “That comparison is an insult to the Siren-Mother. Your poor pony princesses may be stewards of the sun and the moon, but the Siren-Mother is a god. Their power pales in comparison.” “And the sirens,” she continued, “are her daughters. That makes us the queens of the sea, Sunset. Apex predators. Our songs stir the heart and control the mind, and any who oppose us fall before our hooves.” “Aside from Starswirl the Bearded, that is,” Sunset interjected. Adagio’s lips curled at the name. “Yes,” she hissed. “Except for him. And you.” “Oh yeah. I guess so.” “You will never know how much of a humiliation you are to me, Sunset Shimmer. To be defeated by a pony, twice…” “Sorry,” Sunset said, smiling a little. “You were kinda trying to take over the world, though.” Adagio murmured something. “What?” She spun around, eyes narrowed in fury. “Don’t you dare apologize. I don’t want to hear it from you.” Sunset took a half step back, the grin wiped from her face. “I—” Adagio took a step towards her. Her needle-teeth glinted in the light of the moon. “Whose fault do you think it is that any of this is happening to me, Sunset Shimmer? I started turning human as soon as you and your little friends pulled that stunt at the Battle of the Bands. We all did. This is your fault.” “I—” Sunset stammered. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it would—” “Don’t. Apologize.” With that said, Adagio whipped around, her long orange hair whipping around with her, and went back to the railing. She put her forehooves over it and closed her eyes. “As a siren, I am powerful,” she said, quieter. “If I’m a human, I’m… I’m nothing.” “I—” “Leave me alone, Sunset. I can’t stand hearing your voice anymore.” Sunset raised a hoof, opened her mouth… and then seemed to think better of it. She turned and walked away, her hooves making clacking sounds on the deck, leaving Adagio alone to look out over the railing once more.
Turning AwayView OnlineTurning HumanTurning Away“Here.” Adagio wasn’t sure how she knew the point where they needed to leave the boat. She just— Come home. —knew. Come home to me. “Here?” Sunset asked. “Like, ‘right here’, here?” “That’s what I said.” The two of them were back by the railing, though the sun was up this time. It was around noon; They’d left the human world three days ago. Adagio smirked. “I guess I’ll be going on alone from here. Unless you like drowning, that is.” “Hey, wait—” But she didn’t wait. In one smooth motion, Adagio leapt over the side of the boat and dove into the water. It was cool, the water, in spite of the sunlight overhead. She slipped gracefully beneath its surface, falling into the sea’s comforting embrace. With a moment’s hesitation, she tried taking a breath. No problem; her gills worked fine. She breathed a sigh of relief at that. She was home. And then she heard something else hit the surface of the water. She spun about. It was— “Last time you checked was hundreds of years ago. A few things have changed in the meantime.” One long, scale-ridden tail. Two forehooves, laced with fins that dragged along lazily in the current. A set of gills on the neck. She almost looked like— She almost looked like a siren. And with that colour… Adagio’s mouth hung open. “How did you…?” Sunset held up a piece of jewelry, one of two that had been hanging around her neck. “It’s a fragment of the Pearl of Transformation. It allows its wearer to transform into a seapony. I asked Princess Twilight if I could borrow it.” “You weren’t supposed to tell Twilight Sparkle what we were doing.” Sunset held up a fin. “I didn’t tell her why I needed it.” Adagio looked at her in surprise for a moment more, then her face morphed into a scowl. “You are impossible, Sunset, you know that?” “Sorry,” Sunset said, shrugging. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.” Adagio sighed, resigned herself to the further company, and turned. “Alright, Ms. Clingy,” she said. “This way.” They swam for days, the time only marked by the dimming and brightening of the sunlight that filtered beneath the waves. When they tired, they would stop, rest, but only to sleep and to allow their fins to regain their strength. Adagio led the way, that voice echoing on the edges of her mind. Come home. Come home to me. Eventually, things started to look familiar to Adagio. The world above the waves may have changed, since she was banished by that infernal sorcerer, but the world beneath them still bore some resemblance to its past self. Emboldened, Adagio swam on, and soon a great shadow began to loom before them in the distance. As they grew closer, it became apparent what it was: a great spire of rock, one that rose from the very depths of the sea and broke the surface, jutting out into the sky above. “There it is,” she said, continuing to swim towards it. Sunset drew up alongside her. “What is it?” she breathed. “The Spire of the Ancients,” Adagio said. “My old home.” They came close enough to touch it, the two of them dwarfed entirely by the spire’s enormity. From here, Adagio swam upward, and the two of them broke the surface. There was a small beach, carved into the spire’s side; they headed there. Adagio climbed out of the water and onto the rocks, carefully; they were sharp stones. Sunset undid her transformation and did the same. They found a place where the ground was smooth, and there they settled. They rested there, for a time, until the sun was directly overhead. Adagio let out a long breath. “Alright,” she said. “I’m going.” Sunset stood up, but Adagio shook her head. “You’re staying here.” Sunset raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s not happening. Chaperone, remember?” Adagio grit her teeth. “No.” The other mare circled around, standing now between Adagio and the water. Adagio took a deep breath… let it out slowly. “Please, Sunset,” she said, trying her best to look sincere (not something she was used to doing). “Just for a little while. Until I… until I get what I came here for.” “So it’s here,” Sunset said, and had she been human, Adagio imagined her arms would have been crossed. “Whatever it is.” “Yes. It’s down below us, at the bottom of the sea.” “And you expect me to stay behind.” “Look, don’t make me say it again,” Adagio said again. “Please. I’m… I’m asking you. Just for this.” Sunset laid a hoof on her shoulder, looked her straight in the eyes. Again, Sunset’s eyes seemed to flash white, and a faint tingle ran down Adagio’s spine… but then Adagio blinked and all was normal, leaving her wondering if it hadn’t just been the sun reflected in the mare’s eyes. “Okay.” She dropped her hoof, but her eyes didn’t waver. “Just until you get what you came for. Then you come straight back here.” “I promise.” It wasn’t one she necessarily intended to keep. Sunset looked into her eyes a moment more… then sighed. She stepped aside. Adagio moved forward, casting Sunset one last side-glance as she passed, before making her way to the edge of the water. Her heart hammered in her chest. She lifted a hoof, moved it forward, touched the surface of the water, hesitated… and then, steeling herself, walked forward and dove beneath the waves. Sunset looked on, as the ripples in the surface from Adagio’s entry dissipated. “Be careful,” she said, even though it was too late for anyone to hear. Down, Adagio went. Down further, and further, until the light faded. Further, and further more. Adagio was thankful that whatever curse had been wrought upon her, it had not yet taken her sight from her. She could still see, down in the murky darkness, if only barely. Come home. The call was shrill. It echoed in her mind— Come home. —louder— Come home. —and louder— COME HOME. —and then it stopped, abruptly, the silence deafening, and Adagio knew she had found what she had come for. And there, in the murky shadow of the Spire of the Ancients, Adagio opened her mouth and announced: “Siren-Mother! I have returned!” Silence, for a few seconds, just long enough for Adagio to begin to second-guess herself. Had she not come to the right place? Had she not gone deep enough? And then the spire began to move—only, no, it wasn’t the spire itself that was moving, no; it was that which had wrapped itself around it: vast, snake-like coils a mile thick and many, many long, which slid and slipped over each other lazily as the creature moved. This was the Siren-Mother, and she was great and terrible and enormous, Adagio a mere speck before her. A head emerged from the coils, and with it, a faint light, which hung over it like an anglerfish’s lure. The face was eel-like, with needle teeth, thousands of them, that could have swallowed Adagio without notice, and the eyes… Adagio felt herself being drawn into those eyes, great and deep, like whirlpools of endless, bottomless grey. And yet it moved with such grace… The being did not open its mouth, but Adagio heard her words all the same, echoing through her mind just as that simple command had since she’d arrived in the land of magic, or perhaps even before it. “My dear child… It’s been so long…” Adagio clenched her jaw. It felt like her mind had just been wrenched open… like a drawer, which was now being rifled through. “I had wondered… where you and your sisters had gone…” Adagio tried to speak, but her lips would not move. Those great eyes narrowed. “You went among the land-things.” It was said with suspicion, and derision. Land-things. Now, Adagio could speak. “We went among the land things, yes,” she said. “To conquer! The land-things were weak, and we thought—” The great serpent’s eyes narrowed. Adagio’s voice caught in her throat. “T-the land things were weak, so we—” “You thought they would be easy to control.” “And they were,” Adagio said. “But—” “And yet it was you who were conquered, it seems.” “I—” “Twice conquered. Twice humiliated. By land-things.” Adagio clenched her teeth. “Yes, but—” “You were foolish,” the Siren-Mother continued. “You were weak, my daughter. You and your sisters.” Adagio swallowed. Part of her wanted to argue. The sensible part of her was too afraid. “Yes.” “And so you come back to me,” the Siren said, “tail between your legs.” “No,” Adagio said. “No?” “I came to ask for your forgiveness,” Adagio stammered. “And… for your help.” The Siren-Mother’s eyes narrowed once again, and her great coils slithered around the spire. “Please,” Adagio said, “Siren-Mother, you must help me, I’m—” “You’re becoming a pony,” the Siren-Mother observed. Her great nostrils flared. “No… something else. A human? A land-thing, either way.” “Yes,” Adagio breathed. “Yes, and you’re the only one who can help me. You need to change me back—” “I need to, do I?” the Siren-Mother said, some amusement in her voice. “No,” Adagio breathed, “N-no, of course you don’t need to! I, I’m just asking… I’m begging you… change me back into a siren! I can’t… I can’t bear to be a land-thing!! I don’t know how!” The Siren-Mother said nothing. “Please! Change me back! Give me a second chance!” Adagio begged. “I’ll do anything you want!” Silence. “Please,” Adagio said, her voice faltering. “I’m your daughter… aren’t I?” There was a long moment, where the only sound was the currents. “No,” the Siren-Mother said, at last, and something in Adagio died. “You are a land-thing now. You are no daughter of mine, not any longer. You stopped being my daughter a long time ago.. little pony. Some lessons must be learned.” “No,” Adagio said. “No, please—” The Siren-Mother’s eyes glowed a sickly yellow. Adagio shrieked. Her body began to burn, red-hot pain covering every inch of her. She screamed as her gills burned off. She screamed as the fins on her hooves boiled away. She screamed as her bones shrank and her skin tightened, until she was the height of a normal pony, she screamed as scales fell out and hair grew in. Her teeth dulled, her eyes grew wider, her snout grew smoother. Water rushed down her throat, her nostrils. The pressure made her feel like her head was going to burst. She got one last look at the Siren-mother. “Now you truly are a land-thing.” She was smiling. A flash of orange passed Adagio’s eyes… And then… Black. “Adagio…” Black. Nothing but black. “Adagio!” Adagio’s eyes fluttered open. Stones bit into her back. Memories flooded in, and she gasped for air. “Easy!” Sunset said. She was cradling Adagio’s upper body in her hooves. “Easy. You’re safe now.” They were on the beach, where the Spire of the Ancients pierced the water’s surface. Where Adagio had left Sunset behind, before leaving to see the— Adagio sat up, her head spinning. She looked down at her hooves. They were just normal hooves, now. No fins. She reached for her neck, for her gills, but there were none there. Her coat was smooth, and soft, and dripping with water. Adagio screamed, a loud, wailing yell that quickly turned to sobbing. She buried her face into Sunset’s chest. It didn’t matter that it was her. It didn’t matter at all, anymore. “Hey,” Sunset said, and she began to stroke Adagio’s mane with her hoof. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” They sat like that, for a long time Adagio weeping and Sunset comforting her, until Adagio’s sobs turned to whimpers, and finally to mere murmurs. “Don’t touch me,” Adagio mumbled. Sunset paid her no mind. Eventually, Adagio felt well enough to sit up by herself. She dried her eyes on a fin-less hoof. “Are you okay?” Sunset asked. “No.” They sat in silence, for a time. “I figured something like this might happen, you know,” Sunset said, at last. “Deals with ancient elder beings don’t, uh, don’t usually go well, in my experience.” Adagio’s head shot up. “You knew?” “Of course I knew what you were up to,” Sunset said. “It was obvious… even if I couldn’t read your mind. Which I did, before we left.” “You what?” Sunset tapped the gemstone that hung around her neck, right next to the shard of pearl. “Read your mind. Being an extended Element of Harmony has its perks, sometimes.” “So when your eyes flashed…” “Yeah. Sorry, by the way, but I wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise.” She let out a long breath. “So I guess you’re fully a human now, huh. Or, I guess, a pony?” “Doesn’t matter,” Adagio mumbled. “‘A land-thing either way’. Why? I was her daughter…” Sunset sighed. “I guess that wasn’t as important to her as you thought. Some mother she is.” There was a pause, in the conversation. “Y’know, time is like a one-way street,” Sunset said. “So is change, most of the time. It’s inevitable… and irreversible.” Adagio looked up at her. Sunset continued. “Even if you weren’t changing into a human, you’re still not the same person you were when Starswirl threw you into the human world… and you’re not the same person you were at the Battle of the Bands, either. Neither am I. We’ve all changed. We’re all changing, all the time.” “So you’re saying this was going to happen either way.” “The way I see it? Probably.” Sunset laughed, weakly. “Well, I guess. I can’t see the future… yet.” Adagio looked down at her hooves again. “I don’t know how to be a pony… I don’t know how to be a human.” “You’ll learn,” Sunset said. “I had to, and it was hard, but I got it down eventually. I’m sure you will, too… and, unlike me, you won’t be alone.” Adagio looked up. “What do you mean?” “Who do you think I mean?” Sunset said. “Sonata and Aria. You’ll always have them. You’re sisters, remember?” Adagio looked up, at the pale, blue sky. She smiled. Just a little bit. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I will.”
Epilogue: Turning BackView OnlineTurning HumanEpilogue: Turning BackIt tingled, as Adagio stepped back through the portal. On two legs, this time, as per Sunset’s advice, so she came out the other end the right way up. Sunset had been right; it did get easier after the first time. It was daylight; in fact, the school itself was occupied. Thankfully, it didn’t appear to be lunchtime; the courtyard was deserted. With a second flash of light, Sunset emerged from the portal behind her. She glanced around, checked her phone, which had stayed in the pocket of her jeans but somehow remained in the human world as well. The portal was funny like that. “Well,” she said, noting the date. “That took longer than expected. Hope Principal Celestia doesn’t give me detention for missing school.” “What day is it?” Adagio asked. “Thursday. Time is weird between here and Equestria.” “Oh,” she said. They had spent much longer in Equestria. “Well that’s… good, I guess.” “Hey!” Both of them looked up. The shout had come from the road at the end of the courtyard, away from the school. And there, humming, sat a familiar-looking truck… to Adagio, at least. “Hey!” Aria Blaze shouted again, from behind the wheel. “Where the heck were you, you idiot?” Adagio’s eyebrows raised. “See,” Sunset said, smiling. “Told you?” Adagio looked at her. “Did you… call them?” Sunset held her hands up. “Nope.” “Get over here, already!” Aria shouted at them. “I’m sick of waiting!” Adagio shook her head, but she was smiling, a little. They headed over to the truck, Sunset keeping her distance. Sonata was sitting in the passenger seat, Adagio noticed; she poked her head out the window. “Hey, Adagio!” she said. “We’ve been waiting here every day for you to show up again! Aria was wo-rried!” “Was not,” Aria said, scowling and shoving Sonata back. “Were too!” “How’d you know to come here?” Adagio asked, now at the door to the truck. “I followed you,” Aria said. “Duh.” “You really need to be quieter next time you sneak out,” Sonata offered. “You woke both of us up!” “At, like, four in the morning,” Aria added. “Not cool, Adagio.” Sonata shoved her way forward again.“So, where’d you go?” Her eyes flicked towards Sunset and narrowed. “With her?” “I’ll tell you later,” Adagio said. “Then get in already,” Aria replied. “Before I drive off without you.” “Alright.” The passenger door to the truck popped open. Adagio made to walk around to it, but stopped, and turned back to her companion. “Sunset… thanks.” Sunset smiled. “Any time.”
