Cooling Embers

Chapters

Prologue - Burning Rage
Chapter 1: How the Sun Rises
Chapter 2: How the Dawn Breaks
Chapter 3: You Are My Sunshine
Chapter 4: Seasons Change
Chapter 5: I've Missed You
Chapter 6: What We Called Friendship
Chapter 7: Can You Hear Me?
Intermission I: A New Place
Chapter 8: Never Look Back
Chapter 9: I'm So Sorry

Prologue - Burning Rage

This was it.

She'd done it.

Three years it took her. Three years to reach this point. Three years and fifteen more of scraping, grovelling, biting and clawing her way to the top.

Sure, she'd broken a few bones along the way. Spilled a little blood. Ruined a couple lives - maybe permanently!

She didn't care. She couldn't find it within herself to pay it the single, smallest piece of her mind. That was just how the world worked. Gore and glory went hand in hand, and she was ready to make some headlines.

Because she was here now - it was here now. It was hers. And it had all been worth it.

In the dark of night, knuckles pale, she clenched the crown in her fists.

No.

No no no no. Not just any crown.

Her Crown. The Crown that stuck-up cunt Celestia owed her from the start. The right she'd always deserved, that every worthless scum in her miserable life had tried to take away.

None of them ever believed in her, not really. They lied, and cheated, and hid the truth. She gave them warmth, and all they'd ever returned was scorching fire or bitter ice. She'd learned to adapt, ugly fight after ugly, hideous, brutal fight. She'd taken it upon herself, wove it into her bones. Breathed deceit with more ease than she breathed air.

'And look at me now.' She grinned a gruesome, bloody grin. Her reflection grinned back. 'Do you smell that, Equestria? The fire's coming from inside the house.'

They'd all see her soon. She would make them. They would bow and prostrate themselves before the Killer Queen of Canterlot - in this world, and the next.

Flame raged in cold eyes as she admired her prize, its beauty. The golden gleam, the intricate engravings, the six-sided star jewel that capped it all off, like candles on the birthday cake she'd never gotten.

She would've killed all her birthdays in the world if it meant this moment. Now, she didn't even need to. Cakes, Crowns, and Kingdoms, all for her. What a treat.

Shining Sun above, this was just too good.

She laughed, stroking its cool metallic surface like a beloved bird. "At last... More power than I could ever. Imagine."

And with more power than she could ever imagine? No one could hurt her ever again.

Hands trembling, heart pumping, she raised the Crown up high. The moon's surface glinted in its reflection. Blood rushed through her veins like a flood of precious ruby, until at last it touched her head. Her heart thundered with the drumbeat of a shitty, miserable lifetime.

It fit perfectly. Just how she always dreamed.

If sentiments were worth a single damn, she might have cried. But she shed her last true tears a long, long time ago.

Then, it began. She felt it. The power. It licked up her arms, her legs, a blazing dark inferno of black and blue and white that matched the glare of her gaze.

With each passing second, it crawled up her skin, setting her nerves alight. Tendrils of magic nipped at her flesh, every little bite a bursting thrill of conquest. 'Yes, yes, yes,' she cheered. 'Give it to me! Make it mine, all mine!'

And it did. Her feet left the ground, and she didn't even notice until the world became small beneath her. The people became ants, wretched and pitiful as they always had been. Her only regret, that she needed help to get there.

As if those two idiot boys were any help at all. Whatever. She'd give them the reward they deserved, in due time.

'Ow!'

She cursed, attention flicked to her hand. She could hardly see it anymore, wreathed in writhing, coursing mana. It fucking hurt. Why the fuck did it fucking hurt?

Suddenly, screaming heat pierced through the skin, lancing her flesh. The roaring blaze drew nearer, climbing up to cover her face. Every tendril burrowed inside deep, deep down beyond the bone, beyond the marrow. In the span of null, the power she'd craved for all her life turned to swords, stuck through every one of her atoms, down to the last.

'Stop, stop, stop it!' She screamed - or she tried to. Her jaw made no motion, and her throat made no sound. What was this? What was going on?

This wasn't happening. She had victory literally within her grasp. She had the definition of it scrawled atop her skull. It was supposed to be HERS Sun fucking damnit!

It was Twilight.

That bitch. She'd done this, hadn't she? She'd planned for this all along! That piece of throne-usurping trash, she'd taken everything from her! Celestia, her Crown, her queendom, her birthright!

Time slowed to a crawl, as her soul shrank in on itself. Signals fired, fired, fired in her brain, but no response came. Her body refused to move, to listen, to so much as twitch in the right direction. She wasn't even allowed the mercy of death, as every second of agony became a grotesquely stretched millennium.

Fists clenched, banging against invisible walls. No reaction.

Her eyes, wide and hollow, stared forward. Locked in place, pupils trembling. Her lungs burned, her heart burned, her blood burned. It all burned.

The stars in the sky blinded her eyes, laughing, laughing, laughing. The jeering, distorted faces of all those she'd- No! No, fuck you. She hadn't wronged anyone. They did it first. Not her. Them!

Ink blotted out the sky. It bled down in liquid rivulets, eating whatever it touched. It wanted her. It needed her. It hungered for her, a yawning empty chasm that swallowed the horizon and pried her chest apart.

The world became nothing. She became nothing. She would die here and she would never know when because it would twist time until it lost all its meaning, and the concept, the name, the idea of Sunset Shimmer would be lost forever and no one would remember and no one would care and no one would love her and-

Tears.

Wetness. Weakness. Pity. Misery.

They beaded in her vision, stinging her skin with dagger-like salt. The heat of them seared worse than the magic. They seared with awful, choking, sputtering shame.

She wouldn't let them. She couldn't let them. No one could see. They'd see inside her, see the hideous scars and poison words etched on her tongue.

'Why?' she asked. Herself? Her parents? Her Matron? Her Princess? The world?

They ran down her cheeks, each trail a bright, smoking path. Droplets carved grooves in the meat, staining her everything with its ashen stench.

She spoke, in a voice she no longer owned. She heard it in her mind and ears, like her own voice played back in lovingly crafted detail.

She was small.

She was weak.

She was nothing.

In her last dying gasp she managed to ask one final question. It was a question she'd never said aloud. A question she thought she'd buried in the bowels of her gut, then heaped over top a mountain's worth of charred, smoldering debris.

'What did I do to deserve this?'

Hatred.

Reality came slowly. Brick by brick, it built itself around her. Blinking bleary, stinging eyes, she opened them to the world

Or what was left of it. She recognized her surroundings at once. It was that void, that insidious shadow the vile, treacherous Crown spat in her face.

She should have been used to this by now. Why had she expected anything less?

Pushing herself off hands and knees, she expected to feel... something. Anything. She hadn't died, clearly, but maybe this was worse.

No. Not worse. If she could find a way out, she would. Equestria's storied pages spun tales of ancients, trapped beneath the earth, in the Moon, under the Frozen North. Prophecies foretold that, one day, they'd awaken.

If this was her fate, she'd be no different. She'd wait in eternal Tartarus if she had to, until she finally broke out and got her revenge.

Grunting, she pushed up from the black. She felt nothing she touched. Because it didn't exist. Hard to get input when there was no output.

She balled her fists. She heard her knuckles crack, and unclenched. After a delay, shooting pain spiked through her fingerbones, pulsing up to her wrists, traveling beyond her elbows.

She held one hand up to look.

It wasn't there. Somehow, the nonexistent ground below her feet fell.

She twisted around, darting her neck and body in quick, panicked jerks. Shouting at the top of her lungs, fangs scraped the flesh of her throat. She didn't hear herself. In fact, with a dawning dread she realized she didn't hear anything.

Terror was a monster. It squeezed her pumping heart in its claws, and took a meaty chunk. There was no horizon in sight, no reference point for scale. Faster than light it zoomed out and away from her, pouring her brain to the brim with relentless, cosmic apathy.

She clutched at her head, raked her scalp, and screamed.

Hatred.

She hated them.

Every last fucking one. From her first fillyhood friend to her last idle plaything. They were to blame for all this. They put her on this path. They chose her destiny before she could hope to choose it for herself. They deserved this, not her.

She'd been stripped of agency, rip by bloody rip, until her raw muscle oozed. And so she rebuilt herself, plastering on layers of silver and gold. Then, with a casing of iron, she picked her target, chased her dreams, and clutched them in her bare hands.

She'd been on the cusp of perfection. That Crown, the last metal piece she would ever need to fill herself forever. The key to unlock her hard-earned happy ending.

Dropped off at a porch. That was the true start of her life. She'd come this far, not just grazed but gripped victory, savored the spiced, smoky flavor on her tongue.

It would have tasted so sweet going down.

Hatred.

She laughed, and didn't care she couldn't hear. Her chest rocked in the motion until her belly ached.

Hatred? Was that all she felt?

Please.

She felt a whole lot more than that. Hunger, for one. The kind of starving knife she felt slice her guts on long, dreary summer nights those first few months. To think a few cans could possibly satisfy her needs - ha!

What a joke.

She felt that hunger now, again. It coiled inside, bony fingertips creeping along the rungs of her ribs like a ladder. There it would pry her jawbones apart, until she broke down, popped her rations open, and ate them all 'til she wanted to puke.

She'd hungered for so many things, then and now, beyond basic sustenance. Power, for one. Vengeance also - that one more gradual, developed with time and care. Freedom to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, to whomever she wanted.

Of the three, power had been king. If she got power, freedom and vengeance necessarily followed.

Something slammed into her head. Or her head slammed into something. Hard to think with her skull ringing from the crash of a sledgehammer.

She blacked out, again.

She blinked, and vision returned. Sounds, smells, sight. Holy, holy sensation.

Somehow, this was worse.

She was in a body. Her body, she deduced. But it didn't look like her, and she wasn't the one to inhabit it.

But she was?

She watched herself from first and third person. She moved her arm, flexed her claw. Felt herself move her arm and flex her claw. But she never remembered telling herself to do that, or wanting to, or thinking about it. Or having claws to begin with.

A deep, dark, crackling laugh burbled in her core. It started in her diaphragm, working its way through her voicebox, vocal chords, and larynx until it spewed out of her mouth. Because that's exactly what it felt like.

Her mouth grinned with sharp, pointy fangs, the kind that could tear steel. The wicked rakes of her fingertips were the same, each a shiv in its own right. Both dug into her flesh, gums and fingers respectively. It was torture.

The strangeness returned. That fucked up simultaneous third and first person view. How was that even possible? How could she see herself from within and without at the same time?

She was detached. Dissociated. Like her own eyes were a TV screen, her point of view on the left, outside perspective on the right.

She fucking hated it.

She had power.

She fucking loved it.

She had none.

The color of her skin reminded her of a drawing. She wracked her brain for the details, and drudgingly they came. It had been of a centaur, some foe of ponykind imprisoned in Tartarus Celestia knew how far back. Her eyes reminded her of the same monster, pools of endless coal, but with blazing aqua instead of yellow at their center.

Her hair, more than it did before, conjured the image of a flame. Honestly, she thought she looked kinda hot. Real fire would have been so much better, though. Imagine if she could catch things on fire with her hair alone, wouldn't that be a laugh.

She was still floating she realized. Then, belatedly, no. She wasn't floating.

She was flying. Demonic, bat-like wings beat against the air, reminding her of a pony she didn't care to remember, but memory forced her to on occasion.

She'd always wanted to fly, have wings. Now she had them, and she didn't know how to feel.

It didn't matter. Her past didn't matter. Her present did, because what she chose to do now shaped her future, and for once the whispers in her blood told her that future was finally hers to chart.

The witless crowd beneath her stared in shock, shifting around in frightened masses. The sensation she drank from their fear was sublime. Pleasurable little shivers danced along her vertebrae, making her want to arch her back.

Her body didn't let her.

Without thinking, she - or whatever controlled her body - shot magic at the two boys. In a flash, they transformed into creatures just like her. The smiles on their faces told her they enjoyed it as much as she did. A part of her couldn't help but wonder if they also hated it, too.

If they did, it hardly mattered. They closed in on the girls while the others scattered towards the school doors, their shrieks and screams making her shudder.

Her mouth opened. It moved and spoke. "I've had to jump through so many hoops tonight, just to get my hands on this Crown, and it really should've been mine all along."

Her voice didn't sound right. It had an affectation, something about it just... wrong. Beyond the layers, the otherworldly effect. It was too smooth, too pompous to really be hers.

She didn't want to hear it again. She didn't want to feel it use her throat.

She continued anyways.

"But let's let bygones be bygones."

Her serpent's eyes licked across her huddled peers. The words that left her mouth were ones she'd wanted to say for ages, but she didn't have the choice in saying them.

"I am your Princess now!" Her body gasped inwards. "And you will be loyal... to me!"

Her wings flew her towards the school. As the crowd behind the glass screamed, her arms shot out and ripped the doors open. Her eyes stared them down, and a foreign will pressed from her mind to theirs.

And just like that. They were hers.

She hadn't planned on this. Any of it. But she'd have to work with whatever her body offered. Her hand flicked at the girls who'd been the thorn in her ass ever since that bitch arrived.

"Round them up and bring them to the portal." Her body dove for Twilight, stopping mid-way. "I was bluffing when I said I was going to destroy the portal. I don't want to rule this pathetic little highschool. I want Equestria."

"And with my own little teenage army." She gestured to her thralls. "I'm going to get it!"

"No. You're not."

Excuse her?

Excuse fucking her? What the fuck did the bitch just say?

The absolute Mooncursed nerve of this insect. She'd never let Twilight win. She'd die before that happened. How could one mare take everything away from you and still want more?

When she won, she'd put the usurper in a pit in Tartarus, until her own mother forgot she existed.

"Oh please. What exactly do you think you're going to do to stop me? I have magic-" Her arms spread, showing her handiwork. "And you have nothing."

"She has us!"

The rainbow-haired one stepped up with the others. The bitch's dog growled impotently.

She couldn't help but laugh. Did they seriously think they could do something? Even she'd never been that arrogant. She'd always made plans within plans, backups of backups. She'd sketched out how to commit murder and get away with it once or twice.

They knew nothing about her. About her past and what she'd done to get here. If they knew, they'd be fucking terrified.

Her hands crackled. "Step aside. Twilight has tried to interfere with my plans one too many times already. She needs to die."

Death, or a pit at the pitch dark black bottom of Tartarus. Either worked, really.

The crackle grew. Embers coalesced around her fingertips, using the air as fuel for flames. Fire surged from her hands, spewing out in a deafening blast she aimed at the group. She cackled, and couldn't wait to see their bodies on the ground, black and steaming.

The smoke dispersed.

They... they were still there. Holding hands. In a pink fucking bubble. Fucking pink. Really?

She'd puke if she had the time.

"What?" her lips said, and her eyes watched the girls glimmer.

Their feet left the ground. Light ran up their arms and legs just like with her, but not with dark magic. They gained equine features, and Twilight...

No. She had wings, and a horn.

She had magic.

Twilight rambled on about the Elements, the Crown, some stupid bullshit about 'friendship'. It didn't make any sense. How the fuck could 'friendship' do this? Friendship wasn't power, power was power! She was power] The red of her skin and the slaves behind her proved it!

She had to do something. Now. Now, she had to do it now! Why wouldn't her body respond? Why did the Crown hurt?

It forced her to watch as victory crumbled around her, for the second time that night. A prismatic beam burst from the bitch and her suckups, rising and streaking towards her in a long, bending arc.

Not towards her. Towards the Crown.

She screamed inside her coffin. She pulled and yanked on her arms. The Crown wouldn't let go, flooding her nerves with pain, shock, and horror.

The rainbow crashed.

It all went white.

She coughed.

Blood spattered the ground. It coated her tongue, iron and copper failure. Bile. Bitter. Disgusting.

Nobody noticed. Or they did, and she couldn't. Her head hurt, her bones ached, her eyes stung. Smoke and rubble choked her from all sides.

She looked at her own hand. Her body obeyed, like it was supposed to. Her perspective stood firm, and whatever she asked her body to do it did.

Cool, calm relief flowed through her.

Then, the shame.

She lost.

She failed.

Despite everything. All that she'd been through, all that she'd done. And she failed. She wouldn't get a chance at this again. Or maybe she could, given enough space.

She could crawl up out of this smoldering pit, turn tail, and run for the hills. She'd bring nothing but the clothes on her back and what she owned in her apartment. Start from scratch. Build back up. She'd done it before. She could do it again.

A thought hit her. Pounded her like a bullet to the brain.

Did she want to?

Did she really want to go through it all again? The lies, the hate, the nights spent curled up because her guts were eating her from the inside out? Join crime again, ruin more lives, kill more relationships?

She couldn't stop herself from crying. Memories of the past three years and longer gnawed at her mind, dredging hideous, wriggling things from the depths she never wanted to remember.

But she saw them now. She saw herself now - what she actually was. Because she hadn't become a who, she became a what.

It crumbled in magnified slow-time. The infrastructure of her inner walls, the castle she built around herself crumbled. The paint flecked away. The torches guttered out. Bricks fell loose, and exposed the pulsing, throbbing mass of snakes coiled behind.

They writhed and bit at the flesh. The meat of their neighbor, or missed and bit themselves. Venom seeped into their blood, from their own fangs, as the ones around them did the same.

A veil she'd never known existed lifted from her eyes. Time and time again, trauma after trauma, she thought she'd 'seen' clearly, assessed the world and people for what it was and who they were.

She'd fooled herself every step of the way. In the process, she let herself turn into a monster. In her case, literally.

Lead weights tugged on her chest, squashing her guts. Something hurt deeper than the skin and meat and bone. Deeper penetrating and revealing what she was inside, without the pretense and justifications. The self-victimization.

Liar.

Cheater.

Killer.

Monster.

A sort of blankness smothered her. Once, after breaking her arm on her motorcycle, Flash took her to the hospital. Before fixing the joint and setting the cast, they gave her meds for the pain. It numbed her everything, and that's how she felt now.

Only this time, it wasn't her arm she'd broken. But her life. And she'd been the one to break it, nobody else.

Flash. Canterlot High's old Queen Bee. Celestia. Her three older friends. An older mare. A young filly.

Dimly, she crawled out of the crater, then ducked below before they saw. They were laughing, cheering, smiling. They had kind faces and friendly eyes.

Good people. Nothing like her.

She hated them. She hated them so much. She wanted to scream and rage, and strangle them until the light went out forever.

She was so, so close.

Twilight spotted her. Walked, loomed over. There was anger in her violet eyes, but no hatred.

"You will never rule in Equestria. Any power you may have had in this world is gone. Tonight? You've shown everyone who you really are."

Each word punctured. Sunset threw in more of her own. Described to herself in a vague, blank, disconnected way who she really was. Little. Small. Pathetic. Weak. Cowardly. Shiftless. Backstabbing. Narcissist. More and enough to fill a dictionary.

"You've shown them what's really in your heart."

A lifetime squeezed the sob from her throat. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know there was another way."

Lies came easy.

The truth came so, so hard.

Chapter 1: How the Sun Rises

Graduation.

Like stones caught in a river, the word tumbled in Sunset's mind. Graduation. Graduation. She was at graduation.

She found it hard to believe. Could she be so certain it was true?

Perhaps her demonic form still trapped her, placated her with thoughts of redemption and a happy life. Or, she'd met her fate at the Fall Formal, and everything that followed had been the fevered dreams of a dying girl, soon to reach an abrupt and ugly end.

Waiting to be called forth, Sunset Shimmer wished she was at CHS proper instead of these strange, unknown building's halls. The unfamiliar environment did her nerves no favors.

"Hey, Trixie?"

"Mmmyeeees, Shimmer?"

"Can you pinch me?"

"Gladly!"

The wannabe girl magician - one of the unlikelier friends Sunset made at CHS - spun around.

And pinched her arm like steel.

"Yow!"

Sunset jerked her arm away, cradling it to her chest. "Shining Sun above, Trix. Did you have to do it that hard?"

Trixie looked at her strangely. It took her a moment to remember 'Shining Sun' wasn't exactly a normal expletive on Earth.

"Listen, Shimmer. The Great and Powerful Trixie might be lacking for wits, but I am not. I can tell when you're thinking stupid things." Her eyes narrowed. "Were you thinking stupid things?"

"Nnnooo?"

"Knew it!" Trixie's face fell from smug to sympathetic. "Speaking as your friend, I understand your worries. Trixie admits she isn't the brightest tool in the breadbox and is deathly afraid of college. Trixie can't survive college, Shimmer. She. Cannot. Survive!" With each punctuated word, she yanked on SUnset's arm.

Sunset let her. One of the first things to go being friends with Trixie had been the concept of boundaries.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Trixie."

The voice, reserved and cautious, came from their right. Over a gadget Sunset didn't recognize, Twilight peered upwards.

Sunset always thought her glasses were cute. Some day, she'd convince Twilight's Equestrian counterpart to wear them, too. For funsies.

"Ha, ha. Easy for you to say, little Miss Sparkle. You're the smartest girl in this school!"

"T-technically." Twilight flushed, glancing away. "After rigorous examination, I've tested down to the point one percentile for the country."

Trixie scoffed. "My point exactly. Trixie isn't in the point one percentile for anything!" She looked away, fluffing her straight silver hair. "Except perhaps for most beautiful and perfect."

Sunset considered quipping back with a 'What about most Great and Powerful?'. Twilight, adjusting her glasses, spoke before she got the chance. Whether that's true or not, I think you underestimate your intelligence. You might struggle academically, but speaking as someone who is very intelligent in that area and not so much in others, emotional, social, and creative intelligence are highly valued skills. Maybe you could be a therapist?"

That caught both of them off guard. Sunset blinked, and Trixie considered, after shutting her open mouth. Stunned silent, for once it seemed like someone managed to kick those Great and Powerful gears into grinding.

"You... may have a point." She smiled. "Thank you, Twilight."

"And Sunset?"

Sunset looked over. "Hm?"

Twilight offered a small, comforting smile. She placed the device in her pockett, reached out, took Sunset's hand in hers, squeezed. "You'll be fine. You always are."

Sunset pretended to smile. Ignored the lurch in her throat. 'I'm not always fine,' she considered saying, but didn't.

The little lie paid off. Twilight withdrew, believing she'd helped.

Let her believe. No point worrying anyone more than necessary.

Regardless. She hated it. Telling lies, especially to someone she cared about. Even good ones, even small ones. It reminded her too much of the old days. She still did it about as often.

But they'd never understand. Could never even begin to understand. This wasn't about what she'd do post-graduation. That was simple. She was smart, if not to the same genius extent as Twilight. She'd fly through university with the same ease she'd breezed by highschool, all thanks to her prior rigorous academics. And general intelligence, couldn't dismiss tht either.

"Thanks, Twi."

Sunset's throat lurched again. The lie came so easy.

"Students"

The crowd's attention snapped to the left. While Principal Celestia did not wield the same power and respect as her Equestrian counterpart, hers commanded presence when she so chose. To her right stood Vice Principal Luna. Between them, they held gravid stacks of caps and gowns.

"It's good to see I can still call your attention!" Celestia winked. "These are your official ceremonial clothes. Each is marked with your name on the back, so if you receive one that is incorrect please alert either myself or the Vice Principal."

Luna straightened. "Lastly, if you have any trouble putting them on, seek assistance from the person beside you or a nearby teacher."

The two began down the line. Starting towards the head, Sunset and the rest had plenty of time to continue their conversation.

They did not. Passing of the gowns meant only one thing.

The ceremony was close.

Closer than she'd prefer. Sunset imagined her friends shared that same faint unease. The sort that nestled in her gut, turning it in knots. Telling her to be afraid, despite not knowing what to actually be afraid of. Maybe it was just her.

After a few minutes, they received the garments. Sunset and Twilight had no issues putting on theirs. Trixie... Trixie needed some help.

"Oh, and one more thing!" said Luna. "Keep your tassels to the right of your cap, and the point of it facing forwards."

Several students made the adjustments. Trixie included.

"At the ceremony, you will be told when to move your tassels. That is all!"

Looking to her friends beside, Trixie grinned, pinched and lifted the sides of her gown. "Trixie thinks this must look lovely on her, wouldn't you agree?"

Sunset nodded. The gown's white silk complimented Trixie's beaten silver hair well. Granted, she struggled to imagine anyone that white wouldn't look good on.

Now, they waited.

The ceremony couldn't come soon enough, nor could Sunset want it any further away. Minutes shrank to seconds, and seconds stretched to minutes as though to mock the very concept of time. Tapping her foot, Sunset got the vague sensation of drifting up from her body, detaching.

When at last Celestia announced the ceremony was about to begin, a weight seemed to lift offf her shoulders. She sighed in relief, and released the fists she didn't notice she'd made. Her knuckles throbbed.

The line shuffled forward - haltingly, single file. To the sound of graduation music, they entered a vast auditorium, and each found their place on the stage. Side by side, one row would form, and when no more could squeeze in another formed behind them.

She took her place two rows back, between Trixie and Twilight. Mixed into the line-up ahead was Rarity, Pinkie, and Wallflower. She had been at the line's front, and so she would be the first called to speak.

Ironic. She imagined the girl must have slipped in early before anyone noticed, and been forced to hold the position. Sunset couldn't imagine Wallflower ever wanting to be at the forefront of anything besides gardening.

As she took in the chamber, Sunset stared forwards, rather than upwards. While the stage was sizeable enough to fit several dozens, the seats above stretched on forever. More than large enough to size her down, make her small.

It had to be, to fit everyone's friends and family.

Outside of school, Sunset didn't have any friends. Not on Earth, at least. Lots of enemies, though. And family? The one group of people that should have been there, bearing witness to this pivotal moment in her young life?

She stiffened. Didn't wanna think about it.

And so she stared forwards, rather than upwards.

Heels clicked on the stage, and Celestia strode to the front alongside her sister. Beaming, she took her spot behind the standing microphone.

"Good afternoon everyone! It's so wonderful to see so many faces here today - parents, siblings, friends and family - here to witness your loved one's journey. It's incredible to think my sister and I, once upon a time, stood here in the same place as these students. Even more incredible, and fortunately blessed, to preside over this occasion for the eleventh year in a row. We've seen many young learners of all kinds, hailing from diverse backgrounds walk through the halls of Canterlot High, but I think this crop of students behind me may just be the most interesting I've ever had the honor to see."

Sunset tuned out. Sooner this ended, the better. Once it was done she could hop on her motorcycle, go home, and binge on way, way too much takeout. Spot of booze couldn't hurt either, she was thinking rum. Spiced, hard, mix in a little punch and cinnamon. Good sleeping aid.

Y'know, that really was an upside to independence, wasn't it. No guardians meant no one told her what she could and couldn't do, though it wasn't as if that ever accomplished anything in the past. Still, she appreciated the lack of resistance.

Following Celestia's spiel came Lunas. Much the same, it praised the graduating body and the history of CHS, though more cool and curt than Celestia had been. Yet Sunset noticed her slipping in the odd joke here and there, dry wit and snark-laden humor getting a positive murmur from the crowd.

On a rare few occasions, she made veiled references to the magical happenings around the school. Nothing explicit - only those who knew would twig onto the fact. Neither sister could afford secrets like that running free.

The students sharp enough to put two and two together gave their amused rumblings. Sunset, slightly less so. Particularly at the mention of 'demons' and 'angels'. From a glance, Twilight didn't seem especially glad either.

She breathed in. Next, her peers.

Luna revealed a paper. "Wallflower Blush," she read. "Head of the Gardening Club, self-described aspiring botanist, and voted Best Gardener one year running. Please take the stage."

Fuck, one year? Was that all it'd been since the Memory Stone? Felt like a lifetime ago.

The audience clapped. Luna moved aside, and swept an arm to usher the girl forth.

Trembling, Wallflower scooched up to the front, and suddenly Sunset found her worries silly in comparison. The paleing girl clutched a sheet in her hand and mumbled something inaudible into the mic. Luna leaned in, whispered something in her ear, and Wallflower spoke again.

"H... hello. My name is Wallflower Blush, and I-" She swallowed. Glancing back she scanned the crowd, before hers and Sunset's gaze met. In her copper eyes, Sunset saw a pleading.

She smiled, shooting a thumbs up.

Wallflower returned the smile, turning back towards the audience. With her jaw set and chest puffed out, she resumed.

"At first, when I came to Canterlot High, I was afraid. I thought I was too boring for anyone to notice or care about me. Someone special proved me wrong. Now I have a scholarship to Canterlot University, and more friends than I know what to do with." She paused. "One of those friends is a lot more special than the others, though, and she knows who she is. Thank you."

The audience erupted in cheers. Wallflower Blushed, stepping back, and Sunset couldn't have been more proud.

Most of the following students Sunset only knew on a basic level, but there were a few standouts.

Vinyl and Octavia for one. The duo had apparently been allowed to stand together, and Sunset understood why when Octavia read Vinyl's speech for her. Cherry Crash felt less highschool graduate and more raving rockstar. Ditzy meanwhile delivered a speech that brought many in the audience to tears.

Sunset predicted those of her friends. There was Rarity - proper, refined, and delivered with such eloquence you'd think she was reading Stygian. Pinkie, naturally, unfurled a - literal parchment - list of everyone she knew, was friends with, or who had so much as made eye contact with her one time at a bus stop on a Tuesday. About twenty names deep, Luna had to politely guide her back to the group.

Anyone with half a brain could imagine how Trixie's went.

All too soon, Sunset's time came.

Twilight reached out for a reassuring squeeze. Sunset pulled away.

Her stride portrayed more confidence than she felt. She wasn't worried about delivering the speech. She had practiced, memorized, and ingrained the words in her head for weeks. No, that wasn't the issue at all.

She had to look up to deliver it.

"Hey," she began. Crisp. Smooth, straight to the point. "The name's Sunset Shimmer, though I doubt I need to tell anyone that. I've made quite the reputation for myself since I came to CHS four years ago."

Almost five in reality. Crown that felt wrong.

Muted, short-lived laughter rippled through the crowd. More behind than around.

"That reputation didn't start out so great though." She paused, swallowed. The lines came easy. The desire to speak them, not so much. "I'll say it plain. I was kind of a jerk."

"That's putting it lightly."

Sunset didn't know who or where the comment came from. It was something quiet, something whispered just loud enough for her to hear - or so she thought. Rage flared in her eyes, before she snuffed it out, quick as it came.

They weren't wrong.

She scanned the auditorium regardless. Curiosity gnawed at her to discover who made the little jab. The search proved fruitless. There were simply too many people, too many suspects. Too many people she'd screwed over, or friends and family of those she had.

But as she swept the crowd, a color stood out. A very familiar color. A lavender color, that matched one of a friend behind her.

Her gaze jerked back for a second look, eyes going wide.

Twilight.

It was Twilight, from Equestria. She was here. With Celestia too, although she'd put on makeup and changed her hair to better obscure her identity. But to Sunset, it was absolutely, unmistakeably her.

Her missing confidence returned. She took a moment to fight back the lump in her throat before she continued.

Grinning, she spoke from the heart. Fuck the goddamn speech.

"I did horrible things and hurt a lot of people - so many I can't even remember them all. Those dark days will shame me til the day I die. But someone very special gave me a second chance, a second chance I'm still not sure I even deserved. And then other people too, people who are now my best friends in the world. Twilight Sparkle. Applejack. Rarity. Fluttershy. Pinkie Pie. Rainbow Dash. Trixie Lulamoon. Wallflower Blush. Every last one of you means more to me than I can say. Thank you. Thank you so much for being my friends. Thank you so much for your forgiveness. I can't imagine where I'd be without you, without this school, and I hope we'll stick together every step of the way into the future, whatever form it takes."

She bowed and got back in line. Not everyone clapped, but most did.

It was more than she could've asked for.

"Can you guys freakin' believe it? We're finally done with high school!"

Pinkie's shrill, airsplitting voice rang out to every corner of the parking lot. Some heads turned, those not acquainted with the girl's antics. Everyone else barely paid her any mind.

Sunset gathered with her friends. All around, everyone looked bright eyes and beaming smiles.

Rainbow agreed. "F- I mean, heck yeah! I can't wait for the sick af parties."

Sunset rolled her eyes. "You do know college isn't just about parties and drinking, right?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Pinkie and Rainbow high-fived.

Twilight fiddled with her tassel. "She is correct, you know. University is arguably more important for your career prospects than high school."

Eh, gonna disagree with you on that one, Twi. Not in this economy.

Rainbow scoffed. "Please, guys. I'm not an idiot."

Twilight and Sunset exchanged glances. Pinkie arched an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay. Sheesh. Brutal. I'm not that much of an idiot, though. I'll be fine. I did graduate, after all, right?"

"I don't mean to rain on your parade, darling, but..." Rarity breathed through her teeth.

"Ya did only pass with a C."

"Hey, c'mon, C is average"

"Uh-huh. Just about the lowest average ya'll coulda gotten."

"Yikes. Okay. Really busting my balls over here."

Rainbow slumped, defeated. Sunset walked over and clapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, don't get too down. It's just some tough love. Besides, I don't even think it's your smarts or lack thereof that's the problem."

"Just your discipline," finished Rarity.

"And yer work ethic. Er, lack thereof."

"And your attention span," Fluttershy mumbled.

"Y-yeah, well." Rainbow folded her arms, puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe things will be different this time around! I did pass with an A-plus in PE! I'd rather be an athlete than some dumb egghead anyway." She stuck out her tongue in Twilight's direction.

"Regardless," Sunset said. "We're all friends here. If anyone is going through a rough spot, no matter how bad it is, we help each other out. That's how we've gotten this far, and it's how we'll keep going. It's what friends do."

"Speaking of, Sunny dear. What a marvelous speech you delivered back there. I'm not too prideful to say I might have shed a tear or two."

Everyone murmured agreement, even Trixie. Sunset couldn't stop the flames rising to her cheeks.

"Oh, and, uhm. Thank you, for giving me the courage to deliver mine."

Gazing down, Wallflower plucked the sleeve of her sweater. Where the rest of them were content to stay in their gradutory garb, she switched out of hers the moment they left the building. Comfort, Sunset supposed. She had a similar relationship with her jacket.

With a nonchalant smirk, she shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Ain't that big a deal."

Fluttershy spoke up. "It's not nothing, Sunset. A little can go a long way, and you've been the glue that's kept us together this whole time. You shouldn't downplay that."

Sunset flushed darker. At any other time, she'd bask in this sort of attention. Even after the change she'd gone through, there were few things she loved more than a good ego stroke.

Today felt different.

"Truly, Sunset is an inspiring light to us all," Trixie began.

Sun and MOon. Not her, too.

"But I believe you have forgotten the brightest star in the show. The peak of performance. The pinnacle of perfection! None other than the Grrreat and Powerful Trixie herself!"

As if on cue, a cloud of glitter-flecked purple smoke exploded into being. As it dispersed, Trixie stood above it all, hands on her hips and chin tipped high, cap and gown exchanged somehow instantaneously for her magician's outfit, cape and everything. Her friends, Lavender Lace and Fuschia Blush, completed the picture by holding their leader aloft, balanced on their shoulders.

The group's collective eyeroll could b heard the next town over.

Sunset didn't join them. Not when she and Trixie made eye contact. Not when she saw her wink.

Sunset mouthed a quick 'Thank you'.

"Ah think we've gotten a mite bit off track here."

Pinkie nodded, bouncing on her heels. How her cap didn't fall off with all those jumping candyfloss curls, Sunset didn't know. She was half convinced the girl's hair had some sort of magical, or at least magnetic properties.

"Thank you, Applejack!! There was actually something really super duper ultra mega important I wanted to announce!"

A party.

Everyone else was thinking it. For as chaotic as Pinkie could be, she was just as often highly predictable.

Not that she'd ever thumb her nose at a Pinkie Pie party. You'd have to be a real freak to turn that opportunity down. Or severely depressed.

"Yupsies!"

Now, how she chose to announce said parties?

That was a different story entirely.

Leaping into the air, Pinkie danced her way through the partie on acrobatics, tossing out cards like shurikens. "You get an invitation! And you get an invitation! And you get an invitation! Everyone gets an invitation!"

Most cards smacked them in the face. Sunset, Rainbow, and Rarity plucked theirs from the air with relative ease. Her thanks to her black belt, the others from athletics and fencing respectively.

Trixie, for her part, fell ass backwards.

Her friends shot to her side, helping her back to her feet. So much for showing off.

"The party is tomorrow night, my place! We're gonna do," Pinkie's voice lowered to a dangerous whisper. "Underage drinkiiiiiiing."

She, along with Sunset, Rainbow, and AJ shared cheers and high-fives.

"Do we, uhm, have to drink?" asked Fluttershy.

Twilight stood beside her. "Yes, I would like to know as well. Alcohol can negatively affect the development of young brains such as ours if ingested in sufficient-"

Pinkie slapped a hand over her mouth. "Nope! No science talk." She grinned at the crowd. "But anyone who wants to can bring whatever they want! I've got totally free reign of the house for the whooooole weekend!"

She probably looked insane to other people. She had to.

She wore nothing but her backpack, black tanktop, hot pink PJs, and tennis shoes. Riding her motorcycle. In the middle of the road. An hour before nighttime.

She didn't even bother with a helmet, letting her hair whip behind her like a trailing flame. Anyone who knew her habits called it crazy, Rainbow Dash included. She couldn't find it in herself to give a shit.

It wasn't that she lacked the smarts. Of all her friends, she easily ranked among the smartest - not necessarily by choice, often by circumstance. Both Twilights beat her in that department, but then they might as well be prodigies.

Blech. 'Prodigy'.

She hated the word. Tasted foul on her tongue. Prodigies didn't have to work for their talents. Prodigies didn't have to stay up night after night grinding themselves to the bone just for the chance at success.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't hold at least some resentment towards Twilight Sparkle - either of them. Despite it, she knew the feeling was irrational. Earth and Equestrian Twilights both worked hard to get to where they were. Rationality, however, had never been her strongest virtue.

Perhaps she truly was a bit mad, then. But for her, the feeling of wind in her hair, against her face, her skin?

That was freedom. And freedom? That was sublime.

Besides, the distance between her place and Pinkie's wasn't far. She shouldn't be facing any trouble from a twenty or so minute drive through mostly suburbia. If she did somehow crash, she probably deserved it, and she'd have plenty time to regret her actions in the afterlife presuming it existed. If it didn't, she wouldn't be conscious enough to care.

Several sprawling stretches of cookie-cutter, copy-paste homes and lawns later, she reached her destination. Pulling into the driveway, she hopped off and laid her motorcycle against the garage wall.

Instinct told her it was bad mojo leaving it out in the open. Not like she could do anything about it. If someone did try touching her baby though, there'd be some bloody hell to pay.

Coming up to the front, she barely raised her fist to knock when the door flung open. A pink blur of an arm shot out, grabbed her by the shirt, and yanked her inside. Squawking, she stumbled in, trying to make sure she didn't topple over from the weight of her backpack.

"Woah there, Sunny! Don't fall down on me already. Nobody's started drinking yet!"

Shockingly firm hands steadied her on her feet. Pinkie, beaming wide as a CHeshire, giggled and helped shrug the pack off Sunset's shoulders, sliding it off to a nearby sidetable. She wore a plain white tee and bus yellow shorts, as bright and bubbly as her personality.

Sunset grinned, swiping a hand through her windblown hair. "Heh, thanks. Maybe we should get to fixing th-"

Before she could finish, Pinkie wrapped her up in a death hug. Sunset wheezed, eyes bulging out of her sockets. She frantically tapped her shoulder, gasping on release.

"...at."

Pinkie cocked her head. "Fix what?"

Sunset walked over and unzipped the pack, retrieving a bottle of hard tequila and spiced rum. "Getting started on drinking, duh." She grinned, waggling the bottles for emphasis.

"Oh, heehee! Silly, we can't start drinking 'til everyone's here!"

She scoffed. "Not in the parties I've been to."

"You'll have to take me some time!"

Sunset shrugged. "Fuck it, sure, why not. Long as you're chill with a few druggies."

"I'm basically high all the time anyway! It's pretty wild up in this brain as is."

Sunset remembered being in Pinkie's mind that one time. She shuddered.

Sunset cackled. "Hard to argue with that. " Closing the door, she watched Pinkie over her shoulder as she dropped the bottles off on another table. This one had clearly been designated for alcohol, spread amongst the liquor bottles of juice and sodas for mixing cocktails. Sunset brought some fruit punch to go with the rum, and slid that to the side after grabbing it from her bag.

She sized the table up, trying to guess who was present by the various drinks. Cider, whiskey, and beer must have been Applejack. Vodka she thought might have been Rarity, but she was the type to arrive fashionably late, probably with champagne and red wine in tow.

That left either Rainbow Dash or Pinkie. Assuming they drank at all, she could totally see Pinkie's folks hitting the vodka. They seemed the type.

Last, an unopened pack of water bottles. She presumed Fluttershy. Though she hadn't likely known enough about alcohol to intend it, those would see good use if anyone got too carried away.

Her attention flicked to the living room, hoping to confirm her suspicions. She was right - because obviously.

Dash and Applejack sat on the floor, furiously pounding away on a couple controllers. She recognized the fighting game on the flatscreen without missing a beat, and hoped to Crown they didn't try killing each other before the night was out.

Both had gone for casual clothing, rather than sleepwear. Rainbow with a baggy blue hoodie and black nylon shorts, sneakers. Applejack with a red plaid button-up, plain sheepskin boots, and canvas denim jeans Rarity gave her last December.

As if she'd spoken them yesterday, Sunset remembered her words exactly. Holding the pants up with a scrunched up face, sounding genuinely offended asking "Now wha'd ya'll go an' rip up a perfectly fine pair a' jeans like this for?"

Sunset hid her smirk. She was glad to see her wearing them, and not just because she liked wearing ripped up jeans herself. Now if those two would just fess the fuck up already and get the pussyfooting over with...

Watching the fight, Fluttershy sat with her knees against her chest, sunk deep into a beanbag. A light cream blouse hung off her lithe frame, and lower she had on pastel green PJs patterned with cherry blossoms. Noticing Sunset out the corner of her eye, she waved. Sunset waved back.

She held back from the room, keeping close to the showrunner. "Soooo, Pinkie. Any plans?"

"Weell, obviously we're still waiting for a few people, and those two are occupied." She gestured at the living room.

"Huh, wha?" Dash turned her head. "Oh, hey."

SHe resumed the game, but the distraction gave Applejack the window she needed. A flurry of sound effects played from the speakers, and the announcer declared her KO.

Rainbow threw her hands in the air. "Aw man! Whatever, that character is totally OP. Doesn't even count." She huffed, crossing her arms and glared at the screen.

Applejack snorted. "Ain't mah fault you got distracted. Anywho, heya Sunset. Ya'll bring anyone else with ya?"

"Nope, just me. And some booze. Got a few snacks too if anyone's interested."

AJ and Rainbow both stood, cracking their shoulders.

"I could go for some chips myself."

"An' one 'a those oatmeal cream pies, if ya got any."

"Specific. But you're in luck, because I actually do!"

She returned to her pack and rummaged around, extracting a stomach-rumbling procession of crinkly bags and paper boxes. She set them down, spread them out from left to right. "We got Choreos, Coca-Rols, Caramelis, Cheezo Puffs, Cheezo Crunchies, Georgia Gold barbecue chips - kettle cooked..." She grabbed some more. "Caramel Fudge Cake'nBakes, Cool Ranch Nachitos, aaaaand last but not least."

She held out the final box to AJ. "Oatmeal cream pies."

AJ took it, whistling long. "Woah nelly. How'dja fit all that in that little pack there?"

"Very carefully. Anyway, take your pick!"

Quick as a whip, Rainbow zoomed forward and ripped open the Nachitos. She got halfway through crunching down a handful before Applejack shot her a withering stare. Rainbow grinned uneasily, and put them on a paper plate instead. Sunset just shook her head.

Giggling, Pinkie turned back her way. "So tonight's not gonna be super duper crazy or anything. Going for kind of a mellow vibe, more personal that way! Board games, card games, movies, stuff like that! Feel me, Shimsham?" She knocked her elbow with Sunset's.

She elbowed back. "Feel ya, fam."

Rainbow spoke through two bulging cheeks of Nachitos. "You goh Carsh Agah Humahi'y?"

"Yup! Oh, by the way, Sunny. I thought I'd let you know that Trixie-"

Sunset held up a hand. "Yeah, I saw. Not a problem."

One day before the party, Trixie sent their group chat a ping letting them know she couldn't attend, and would be holding a private party of her own. Sunset didn't begrudge her. Trixie had known and been close with Fuschia and Lavender far longer than any of them.

"Not coming, it's cool. What about Wally, though? I never saw her send confirmation."

"I've been here a while."

Sunset froze, startled. Turning around, Wallflower greeted her with a raised hand. Her clothes were the same as usual.

Sunset furrowed her brows. "Where were you?"

"In the bathroom."

"Oh."

Sunset shuffled. Wallflower fiddled with her pockets.

A dainty, musical pattern knocked on the door. Eager for salvation, Sunset raced over and swung it open.

"Good evening, lovelies~"

Rarity, ever the dramatic, strode in wearing what must have been the pinkest, fluffiest robe Sunset had ever seen in her life. She'd applied makeup to model mag standards, and carried a clinking, sloshing purse over her shoulder.

"My upmost apologies for the late arrival. Regardless of the occasion, a lady must always strive to look her best. Now where should I- oh!" Exclaiming, she walked to the table supporting the various drinks. She retrieved and set down two bottles of wine - white and red, both vintage - and sparkling champagne. "Quite the collection we have here, and so many juices! Oh I can make you all just the most delicious of cocktails!"

Fluttershy raised a hand. "Uhm, I have a question. How did you all get so much alcohol when you're, uhm, underage? And will we get in trouble?"

"Stole it," Rainbow answered. "Nah, just kidding. I bribed the cashier."

"Fake ID. Don't worry though, I'm technically legal in Equestria, which is the best kind of legal." Sunset winked. "And as long as nobody blabs, we won't get in trouble."

"Ah took it from the farmhouse. We got plenty 'a cider stores this time 'a year, and Ma and Pa always used to keep the liquor cabinets stocked. Granny ain't much of a drinker herself, so she ain't gonna notice."

"I, similarly, must admit I've engaged in a pinch of rugged banditry myself."

Silence reigned.

"Whaaat? Don't give me that look, I did bring the alcohol did I not?" Rarity harumphed. "Really, you should count yourselves lucky I brought anything at all! Elicit activities like this are so below a woman of my pedigree."

Sunset grinned. "Whatever you say, Rare."

"So we're just waitin' fer Twilight now ah suppose. Wonder where that gal went off to."

Rarity nodded. "Yes, it is rather odd she has not joined us yet. Usually I'm the one who's fashionably late, and she the one pointedly on time."

"Twenty dollars says she's working on some sorta egghead thing."

"I'll take that bet!" Pinkie cheered. Her and Rainbow shook on it.

For close to an hour, the girls passed the time with games, chatting, and snacking. AJ and Dash soon returned to their competition, while Sunset played Poker with Pinkie and Rarity.

Pinkie suggested Strip Poker, but Rarity firmly opposed the idea. Fluttershy and Wallflower, meanwhile, talked about something Sunset didn't fully hear. All she consistently picked up from their conversation was something about flowers and bees.

Go figure.

They heard the knock at nine. Eager to meet their missing comrade, Pinkie sprang to her feet with terrifying speed.

Twilight's glasses hung askew. Her scrunchie had gone loose, and wayward strands stuck out every which way. Subtle darkness sagged below her bloodshot eyes, and she wore a smudged lab coat over her pajamas.

Given that image, she should have looked miserable. She beamed instead, waving eagerly.

"Hi girls! Sorry I'm so late. I was..." She tapped her fingers together, head turned aside. "Working on something."

Sunset cocked a brow. "That being?"

"Remember that drone I made last summer?" No one answered. "The one for taking selfies?"

General nods and slow, recollecting murmurs. Twilight smiled.

"Well, I've been developing on some of that technology, and tinkering with more complex mechanical structures. I even have an early model for generative intelligence, something simple that can help with basic labwork. So, I put it into something that can interact with the physical world. Everyone? Meet Phoebe."

A small, mechanical bird flapped into the room, almost soundless. The make was remarkable, eerily realistic if it weren't for the obvious bronze, gold, and copper pieces. Feathers like fire and plumes like flame decorated the thing, eyes glowing LED blue, and looking at it, Sunset got the strangest feeling of deja vu.

The bird's head swerved around, seeing them with light-up eyes. It flapped twice, chirped, and settled on Twilight's shoulder. She smiled, scritched its chin, and the construct nuzzled back with a mechanical trill.

Rainbow frowned, eyeing it up. "So it's... what, like an AI or something? Haven't you watched Exterminator?"

Twilight rolled her eyes. "That's just a movie. A good movie, admittedly, at least the first two. And for the record, this isn't Artificial Intelligence, it's Generative. It bases its responses on the information it's been fed, and comes up with the best approximation of how to respond. It won't be 'coming alive' any time soon. And besides, I've programmed it to be more of a physical assistant than anything."

Rainbow seemed unfazed. "Sure, whatever you say. But the moment that thing starts shooting lasers, I get to say I told you so."

"That's not going to happen. Anyway." Twilight held out her wrist, and allowed it to clamber on. "Her name is Phoebe, or PHI for short. It stands for Programmable Holistic Intelligence. She's got pretty basic coding, but I have a more complex digital version I interact with running on a local system."

"See what I mean? This is SkyMesh shit if I ever saw it!"

Twilight ignored her, pointedly. "Anyway. She can't really speak, since I felt a little weird about giving her that ability. But, she can understand and interact with people pretty naturally." She paused. "Kinda. It doesn't always hit the mark."

"Can it share a drink?" Sunset asked.

"Uhm. It's mechanical."

"I'm guessing that's a no then." She saw Twilight nod, and cursed. "Damn. Always wanted to split booze with a robot."

"Have you?"

"No, not really, but don't tell me it wouldn't be cool."

Twilight shrugged, smirking.

"Nah, she's totally got the right on this one!" Pinkie beamed, jabbing the bird with her elbow. "Let me know when you have drinking capabilities, hot stuff. Rrrreow!"

Phoebe cheeped.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about! And since we're all here, let's see how this birdie flies. Phoebe, pop open the booooooze!"

Phoebe launched from Twilight's wrist, zipping over to the table in seconds. With articulate metal claws and a sharp golden beak, it made quick work of the corks and bottlecaps.

Sunset watched it work, face scrunching. "Hey, Twilight?"

"Mh?"

"Why's it got, like... my colors?"

Twilight's face went beet red. She tugged on her lab coat, seemingly wanting to obscure her face, but dropped it at the last second. "I, uh... thought your colors would be the prettiest to design from."

Sunset grinned, tossing her hair. "Fair enough. I am pretty hot..

Twilight flushed darker.

The collective gaze switched back to Phoebe. The moment they discovered it could mix drinks, the requests arrived hard and fast. Fascinating to watch it work, and Sunset would give Dash this much - a little creepy, too.

Wallflower and Fluttershy abstained, while Rainbow needed some convincing before she let it make one for her. Naturally, she kept an eye on it the whole time. Before long, everyone sat in the living room, nursing their respective drinks, alcoholic or otherwise.

Thanks to the topic of AI, and the search for something to hold their attention, Twilight asked PHI to make a suggestion. It flew to the remote, searched the various services Pinkie subscribed to, and pulled up all seven Exterminator movies.

They only watched the two. Sunset however held a secret, faintly guilty fondness for the fourth - Exterminator Redemption. Not that she'd ever say it in public.

Tongues wagged, and the girls shared commentary loosened from the alcohol. All the while, Sunset watched the bird in action, and she had to admit whatever semblance of personality it possessed was amusing. Somehow, it seemed to know Rainbow's ire, and with that knowledge snuck little opportunities to taunt and harrass her. The effects of her stupor made its job that much easier.

On screen, the XT1k emerged from the linoleum floor.

"How, hic. How'm I sposeda know you can't do some freaky shit like that? Or, or, or! What if you're poisoning my drink! Yeaaaahhh, I know what you're up to. Whaddya, think about that! Stupid ass dumb ass fuckin' ass robot bird."

It cawed. Rainbow glared.

Sunset lounged on the carpet, legs splayed, back against the sofa's front. "So Twi. Between the first and second, which is your favorite?"

"The first, easily. It's more of a proper thriller instead of an action flick. A very good action flick, mind you, but an action flick nevertheless." She tipped back her rum and coke - beginner's drink, baby stuff, but Twilight admitted she'd never drunk before.

"I-I'm preferring the second one, personally," Fluttershy mumbled. "T-the first one is kind of, uhm, scary."

"Exactly!" Pinkie agreed. "But the second one also has that nuclear holocaust scene. That was pretty scary too!"

"Y-yes, well. I didn't really like that either. I prefer romance movies, or nature documentaries."

"You would," Rainbow jeered.

AJ gagged. "Yuck."

"Aaaaagreed. Speagina whish, Pinkie." Rainbow leaned over, sloshing her drink. "Twenny bucks, you owe me, 'member?"

Sunset laughed. "In your state, Dash, I'm surprised you even remember something like that."

Pinkie giggled. "Oh yeah! Heehee, I don't actually have any money on me right now, sorry!"

"Maaan, das some bullshit. Whatever. I din'nt even want the money. Hic!"

Rarity cleared her throat. "I do believe our rainbow-haired compatriot has hit the drink harder than most. Perhaps someone should stop her before she, ahem." Rarity finger-quoted, "'Makes sick'."

"Wha? Nnn, screw you Rarity. I'm fine, I can totally handle more. I'm fine, really. Seriously."

Sunset laughed. "Oh yeah, she's fuckin' toast. Phoebe, mind takin' her drink?"

"Nooooooo!" Rainbow whined. She fumbled against the bird as it dove, trying to hold on but too drunk to mount any worthy defense. Metal talons ripped it from her grasp, and it swooped over to Sunset.

Rainbow, subsequently, fell on her face.

"Aheehee, floor feels funny."

"Thank youuuu~" Sunset sang, snatching the glass. In one swig, she downed the entire shot.

Whether because of her younger years, or trans-dimensional biology weirdness, Sunset found it hard to get buzzed. It took her twice the amount it did anyone else to feel the effects of alcohol.

The night wore on, and drinks kept flowing. Rarity never raised herself above mildly tipsy, but Pinkie, Applejack, and Sunset got properly shitfaced.

Rainbow, after falling onto the floor, passed out and drooled.

On the cajoling of Sunset and Pinkie, Fluttershy and Wallflower acquiesced to trying a drink. Wallflower took sips from multiple varieties, and found none to her liking.

Fluttershy knocked enough shots to kill a horse.

She slurred, throwing her cards against the floor. "Oh my fucking god. Fucking stupid ass bullshit! Why do I never win? Stupid fuckin', god damn assmonkey shitcarnival fuckin' bitch asshole dick cunt muncher-"

"Shhorry Flufferfluff. Guess you're just not good'nuff at the game, heeheehic!" Pinkie beamed stupidly, wavering against Fluttershy's side.

"Calm down guys, it's naw a competi- competish- uhm, contest, thingy. Thing. Or, uhhh." Sunset thought a moment. "Kay, ignore me, 'm dumb. It totally kinda is."

Two hours passed. Time and stupor both took their toll on the party.

Pinkie lost the battle against sleep first, snoring loudly on Fluttershy's shoulder. Fluttershy gave in next. Lying down the party girl on the floor, she flopped onto the couch and snoozed into unconsciousness.

Then Applejack turned in, followed by a tipsy Rarity.

Wallflower excused herself after, and at last Twilight could hold out no longer, yawning between her apologies to Sunset.

"Iss fiiiine, dun worry abouddit. 'M sure'll goda sleep soon too," she assured. Minutes after, Twilight lay curled up on the sofa. Phoebe shut itself down with her, leaving Sunset alone in the quiet aftermath.

Like dominos, she thought. One after the other, they fell, yet left her standing.

Taking a last quick trip to the bathroom, she shut off the lights. She glanced towards the living room to see everyone sleeping - save Rarity, who opted for taking one of the Pie sisters' beds.

Sunset got a strange sensation standing there, a tightness in her chest. It took a moment before she realized what she was feeling.

Lonely. An empty kind of space, right above her gut. She couldn't place why.

A breath of fresh air might do her good, she decided. Tequila in hand, she zigzagged towards the door.

She expected a pleasant, quiet night. She expected the hum of crickets, the hoot of owls, the sounds of a light summer breeze. And she did get those.

But she did not expect, stumbling onto the porch, to find Starlight and Twilight standing in the darkness.

"Heeey," she said. "Whatchu doin' here? You guys realize the party's, urp, over, yah?"

"Uh oh, Twilight. Looks like we got a drunk on our hands."

Yeaaahh, eheheh. Pinnkie like, got us the whooole house fertha weekend. We got totally fuckin' hammered, dude."

Twilight cocked her head. "It does sound like you had a good time. And I apologize for not arriving sooner. Princess duties and everything, you know. The usual."

"We mostly came here to see you anyways."

"Whafur?"

"To wish you congratulations, of course." Twilight beamed, and pulled Sunset into a tight embrace. Sunset hiccuped. Stepping back, she let her waver backward until she found her footing. "Celestia and I are proud of you for coming so far."

"Pssshhh, s'nothing." Sunset, after a swig from the bottle, waved her hand dismissively. "S'jus highschool, lol. Wait, did I just say lol out loud? Haha, I'm so fucking drunk."

Shaking her head, making sure the door behind her was closed, Sunset lowered herself onto the stone porch. She sat back against the wall, legs sprawled out before her. "Woulda been better if I graduated from Celly's school, like I was s'posed to. But, oh well. I'm dumb, wasted an opportunity when I had it. Didtha a'lot ya know."

She took another swig.

Her friends exchanged glances.

Twilight held her gaze. "Are you... doing okay, Sunset?"

The question struck her like a rock. What did she mean by that? Of course, she was doing okay.

Why wouldn't she be?

"Uhm. Yeah!" she slurred, not very convincingly. "To'ally fine. Jusda bit tired's all. Annnnnd drunk."

"Mind if I take a sip?"

Sunset offered a wordless noise, handing Starlight the bottle.

"Starlight!"

"What? It can't hurt. I'll only have a little."

Twilight huffed. "Fine, but I'm not dealing with both of you sloshed, okay?"

"Relax, Twilight. When have I ever gone overboard?"

"Really?"

"Okay, fair. I promise I won't get drunk. We cool now?"

"Pinkie Pie Promise?"

"Sure," Starlight sighed. "Pinkie Pie Promise. Yadda yadda heart and die, yadda yadda in my eye. Now lemme drink some damn booze, mom."

Sunset watched the bickering duo in amusement. Starlight tilted her head back, and down her throat flowed the hot, soothing burn of tequila.

"Mmh, that's the good shit right there. Twilight, you want some?

"Uh. No thanks. Back to the point, though. Sunset, would you mind if we sit with you?"

"Sure, why not. Just don't make too much noise. Buncha 'lil sleepin' fishies inside," she said, jerking an elbow to the door behind her. It thunked against the wood, and Sunset cradled it, hissing. "Ow, shit."

To her right, Twilight took her place, Starlight to the left. They each gave her enough space to sprawl, for which she was thankful. Drunken sprawling felt good right about now.

"So Sunset," Starlight asked. She gulped another mouthful, briefly choking on the taste of fire. "You're done with highschool. Got any cool plans?"

Sunset, cheek leant into her shoulder, pondered. "I was planning on Uni, but..."

"But?"

"Iunnuh. Juss... I still wanna, but, like. Feels like somethin's missing, y'know? But Iunno what."

"Hm," Twilight intoned.

"Maybe you could take a gap year?" Starlight downed a third swig. "Your friends too, maybe, so you're not left behind. Ponies do that a lot when they're not totally sure what to do. Or, sometimes, it's just to relax and take a breather from life, or find a job."

"Maybe. Could be nice, I guess." Sunset pursed her lips. The tequila ran strong through her veins, but its warmth steadily fled with the conversation. Whether that was a component of being required to think consciously or something else, she couldn't say. "Come to think of it, I don't even know how'm gonna pay for stupid college. It's not free like in Equestria, and tuition fees are a bitch."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Tuition fees? You pay for education on Earth?"

"Y- hic! Yyuuup, sure do. DOn't ask me about it, s'stupid. Still gotta figure out howta pay somehow."

"I am a Princess of Equestria, you know. I might not be able to fund you directly, but I'm certain I could find assets you could liquidate here on Earth for human money, or whatever it is you call it."

"Dollars. Bucks and cash too, but it's dollars officially, at least in this country."

"Hic!"

"Moon curse it, Starlight! What did I tell you about the tequila?

"What? I'm cool. I'm fine. I'm cool.

...hic."

Peering over, Sunset cracked a wicked grin. In the short time their conversation had begun, Starlight drained over half the bottle.

"Thass my kinda girl," she cheered, nudging Starlight in the waist. "Good 'ol tequila. S'too bad it's called sunrise tequila though insteada Sunset, am I right?"

"You said it, sister."

"Crown above, you two are unbelievable."

Sunset and Starlight snickered. A comfortable silence followed, interrupted only by the occasional gulp. Crickets and cicadas and a hooting owl were their company, the foreign sea of stars their backdrop. And for a short time, Sunset was at peace.

Until Twilight spoke.

"What if you're homesick?"

Sunset blinked. "Huh?"

"It's just a suggestion. You've been living on Earth for five years. Maybe you just miss home."

A grimace, etched like stone, worked across her face. "I mean. Maybe?"

"Like I said, just a thought. You always have a place with me if you want to return. I'm sure Princess Celestia would have you as well."

Suddenly, Sunset had no desire to continue the conversation.

She stood, yawned, rubbed at her eyes. "Uh-huh. Well, I'm pretty tired at this point. Think I should catch up on some Zs right about now."

Twilight, who stood after her, nodded. Sunset ignored the skeptical glint in her eye. "I understand. Starlight, do I need to get you up myself?"

"Uh-huh."

Groaning, Twilight bent over and got Starlight on her feet. Her beanie had fallen halfway off her head, and her constant wavering back and forth reminded Sunset of a waving reed.

"We're going to get home ourselves then. Celestia knows I'll need a couple shots of espresso if I'm going to function in the morning." Twilight hugged her a second time, before looping an arm around Starlight. "Have a good night, Sunset, and think on what I told you."

"I will," she said, smiling politely. The moment Twilight turned, her smile fell.

Halfway down the path, with Starlight's head lolled on her shoulder, Twilight paused. "Hey Sunset?"

"Yeah?"

"You did deserve a second chance. Don't ever doubt that."

They disappeared far into the night. Even after, Sunset stood for a long, long while.

"So. Homesick, huh?"

She considered it. The fact the notion made her so upset, logically, meant there was some truth in Twilight's words.

Tonight was not the night to think about them. She lied about being fine, but was honest when she said she needed sleep. Stifling another yawn, Sunset, cat-like, weaved her way inside the house.

A wayward observation of the living room told her there weren't any good spots left to sleep, so she padded her way upstairs instead. She opted for Pinkie's space. Marble's was taken by Rarity, she didn't want to risk a confrontation with Limestone tomorrow morning, and if she had to admit, she was somewhat wary of what she might find in Maud's.

So, Pinkie's would have to do. The sheer brightness of the room, even in the dead of early morning, made her gag. Too much pastel, and that was coming from an Equestrian.

But the bed was nothing if not comfortable. Fluffy pillows abound, and the softest, warmest comforter Sunset had known hugged her to sleep.

As the tide of slumber approached, Sunset weighed Twilight's words. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps she was homesick. Surely a trip to Equestria couldn't hurt, right? Especially if she and the girls took a gap year, though a month or so would probably be enough.

With that idea in mind, she flopped on her side, hugged a pillow tight, and dreamed of home.

Author's Note

The curtains rise upon the first act. A young woman realizes all is not so well as she believed.

Chapter 2: How the Dawn Breaks

To the sound of rain, beside flickering candlelight, Head Matron Swan sorted papers.

She enjoyed this aspect of her work the least. Yet, as the manager of an orphanage, tedium was an expected - and necessary - evil. If nothing else, it gave her a quiet space and time to think. The days afforded with rare exception such luxuries.

She did not complain. Few ponies could say they loved their job as much as Head Matron Swan.

Stamping one document, signing another, she thought on tomorrow. Perhaps Pimento Berry would come tottering at her with tales of her friends at the lake, or Comet Crash would display his latest planetary model. If luck blessed her truly, she'd receive another one of Cake Mix's latest confectionary creations.

A soft smile creased her cheeks. Again, she found herself grateful. Ponies her age often looked behind more than forward. Raising children demanded she do the opposite, and live in the present.

That did not mean she never reminisced. She often did - sometimes for the worse, majority the better.

Her wings, dexterous as in her thirties, fell into a rhythm. Dream-like, her mind drifted to the day she discovered her passion.

She'd been older than most who got their cutie marks. At the time, the blankness of her flank hung over her head like a raincloud. The meaner girls at school made it the source of her mockery, and a few boys joined in. Most colts, however, would rather hit on the pretty filly by the lockers than jeer her, cutie mark or no.

Occasionally, she wondered what her life might be had she never taken that job. Would she have discovered the same destiny at a later date? Would she have taken another path entirely?

These days, a few academics touted the philosophy that destiny was what you made of it. Swan couldn't say herself whether she agreed, but she leaned towards not. Your cutie mark was your cutie mark, and that was that. It was how she'd been raised.

The day she earned hers had been utterly ordinary. Had she been told that morning, she never would have believed it would be the most pivotal point in her life, a river bend from which there would be no return. She imagined it went that way for most.

A week prior, her father came home from work with important news. "Hey kiddo," he greeted, ruffling white and rosey hair with his hoof. She'd groused, swiping it away with a teenage whine. She held a magazine in her wings, browsing the catalogue of Cloudsdale Chic's latest edition. "Guess what your old dad heard today?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, I don't caaare."

He grinned through his beard. "I think you will. Remember that saddlebag you wanted?"

Her eyes lit up, catalogue abandoned. She'd been wanting that saddlebag for months, a designer purse built especially with a pegasus' comfort in mind. All her friends were raving about it, but her single parent household simply couldn't afford the expense.

Decades later, she remembered so many little details of the events surrounding that purse, yet she couldn't guess the brand name now if she tried. Funny, that. Flights of fancy came and went quick as clouds, but in the moment, felt like the most important things in the world.

"What?" she exclaimed. Her wings carried her above the couch, hovering in place with nervous flaps. "What is it? Telll me!"

"Woah-ho there little miss." He extended a wing of his own, far larger, a reddish-orange against her hot pink - now, a faded fuschia. Guiding her down to clouds, he went for the kitchen. "Met the Dailies today for lunch. They told me they'll be having their anniversary dinner in Featherston next Sunday. Won't be back home 'til evening."

She raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Aaaaand..." The kitchen filled with the clatter of pots and pans, the open and shut of filled drawers. "Their son is going to need a foalsitter."

She made a gagging noise. "Daaad, ew. I'm thirteen! I'm not gonna hang out with a first grader! And I'm supposed to meet Skim and Diver on Sunday anyway."

The fridge opened, closed. Water rushed from the faucet, followed by the familiar sound of her father's chef's knife chopping against hard-packed cloudmarble. "Bet you'll change your tune when I tell you they're offering a hundred bits. Only one night by the way, if you're still curious."

It wasn't enough, not nearly. She needed thrice that and then some. Luckily, she'd been saving up, taking various odds and ends for over a month. It wouldn't get her the rest of the way there, but it was close.

By next week, she stood on the porch of the Dailies', waving them goodbye.

Turning around, her smile waned. She closed the door, locked it behind her, and observed him rolling marbles on the carpet.

Some days prior, the Dailies invited her and her father for dinner. They wanted to see how well she and their son got along. She'd braced for the worst, expecting some screeching, trampling nightmare of a hellspawn, but found herself pleasantly surprised by his soft-spoken demeanor. The degree of his shyness annoyed her to an extent, but she was infinitely more grateful to look after a quiet child than a loud one.

She would - could - never forget him. He'd be a stallion now, almost certainly with a life, a career, and children of his own, but she would always remember him as that demure little colt - powder blue coat, purple eyes, a curly mussy mop of gold and orange hair that matched his blonde, glitter-like freckles. He was among a rare few pegasi born with the fortune of not only colored primaries, but secondary feathers, the same orange and gold of his mane and tail.

In the beginning, she keptt her distance. To her, quiet and shy meant she wouldn't have to do much. The idea of fraternizing with a foal, even for money, seemed degrading. With age, she came to see the absurdity and - ironically - foalishness of that concept.

Despite intentions, as the day wore on, she found herself enjoying his company more and more. It began with the little things - his simple curiosity, his dedication to artwork. Half the paintings in his home, she'd been stunned to learn, were made by him rather than one of his parents.

Eventually, his outer shell cracked, and he exposed himself for the sharp, artistic, strangely insightful young pony that he was. In her mind, the most important thing she gained that day was the understanding children were just as much a pony as any adult. Kids had as vibrant an inner life as anypony else, and deserved - to a degree - their own autonomy.

They played games, ate snacks, complained about their parents. She had the most fun drawing with him, using everything from colored pencils and crayons to markers and watercolor. She still felt a twinge of shame at the fact he drew better than her, even now.

Once indoor activities wore themselves out, and listening to radio dramas lost their appeal, they left for the backyard. There, they could play in the ways she'd enjoyed as a filly, and still sometimes did with her friends - wingtag, flapscotch, stormball, even cumulus kick in the right mood.

In contrast to other tribes, most pegasi yards were not filled with grass and greenery, but clouds and water. Like much of Cloudsdale, they made their own structures, some packed until hardness, others loose and fluffy. The Dailies' yard was no exception.

One glance told all she needed to know on why - and how - they'd be willing to drop so many bits for a single night's work.

It must have been twelve thousand square hooves, at minimum. Tall terraced walls formed the border, the interior space smattered with decoration. Her eyes widened at the sight of it all - a multi-tiered bird bath, weather garden, a fountain for each of the five corners, all of which fed into their own ground level aqueduct with a flat marble bridge over each. They came together at the yard's center, a deep basin filled with water. From its center rose the most arresting feature - the statue of a tree, hoof-carved, wind-polished, complete with bark texture and leaves made of rainclouds. Blue and gold lanterns hung from the branches, and swayed in the breeze like windchimes.

She couldn't recall how long she stared, then or now. Before, she hadn't seen their three-story home as particularly outside the ordinary, her teenage mind too young to reflect on the class disparities. After, she wondered how on Equus her working dad came to befriend such ponies.

When she managed to shake herself of the stupor, they began their games. All went well.

For a time.

By sunset, in the midst of wingtag, she switched tactics. Rather than continue her chase she kicked up a cloudpuff, and seized on his distraction. She dove for the tree, nestling herself in the canopy of rainy leaves. She grinned in spite of the damp, knowing wet fur was a small price for what she had planned.

Through cracks in the cloud, she watched him whirl around. Confused, he kept spinning, zipping from one corner to the next, calling her name. She giggled, snorting every time he almost found her, but remained just quiet enough to go on unnoticed.

Finally, he turned his back to the tree. She snuck out, barely containing her cackle, and brushed his haunch with her feather. "Tag, you're it!"

He yelped, followed by a huff, and banked towards her. She let the cackle free, laughing maniacally as she sped away.

Age and experience made evasion a breeze. By no means could she have ranked with the Junior Speedsters, but outfly a colt less than half her years? Now that she could do.

But perhaps she'd gone too fast, tempted to push him too far.

She didn't see what happened, but she heard. In a split second her trajectory snapped back, racing to his side. She'd acted before processing the sound - a high, squealing yell. Never before nor since had she felt a fear so palpable.

She found him crumpled.

Curled in the fetal position, he cradled his foreleg. Wailing, he tried to hide it, shifting his wings to block her view, as though he were embarrassed to show her.

Fuelled by adrenaline, she fought to pry them off. Her heart stopped when they came back bloody.

Tears stained his cheeks as much as red stained the fur. She remebered in vivid detail - too much detail - the striking clash of wet crimson against matted teal, shining in the early amber evening.

It was a simple scrape, nothing that couldn't be fixed at home. A cloth, hot water, soap and some pressure would do just fine, but it didn't change the hurt. It made her heart ache.

She scooped him up, cradling him with wings and forelegs. Crooning, she ran primaries through his mane, rocking him back and forth. She promised him everything would be okay, until his sobs became cries, became sniffles, became silence.

When he gave her a nod, she helped him inside. She washed the wound, cleaned it, wrapped it, compressed it. For the trouble she made him a bowl of icecream, the biggest she found in the cabinets. He only ate half, and gave the rest to her.

"You have it," he said, beaming. And, wrapping himself around her legs, made a confession - one that she could replay in her mind so clearly it might have happened that morning. Until the day she died, it would be her companion.

"You're the best foalsitter ever!"

From her core blossomed a feeling - the feeling - one that she today could say she'd not felt since. She could take that feeling and ride it to the tallest peak of Equus. She could hold it dear on a freezing winter night, and never grow cold.

She could die with that feeling, and be happy.

He gasped, and she pulled back. "What is it?" she blurted. "Is your leg okay?" Before he could say anything she grabbed his hoof, eyes frantically scanning the bandage.

"No," he giggled, waving her off. "Your cutie mark!"

"What?"

The word spilled off her tongue. What in Equestria did he mean by that? She didn't have her cutie mark yet. Tartarus, sometimes she worried she never would.

She placed his hoof down, her own shaking. "I- What are you talking about?"

With insistence, he pointed behind her. Her head turned with the slowness of forever. At last, her eyes met her flank.

She understood.

Smack dab on her haunch was a brilliant bubblegum heart. Around it the white-feathered wings of a swan formed its outline, as if to embrace and hold it close. Inside the pink of the heart laid one smaller, a passionate red.

It was her destiny.

She loved children. Nothing in Equestria existed that gave her the joy of caring for them, making them smile, offering comfort when they were hurt. Raising them up, higher than they were, to glean their truest potential.

She took a lot more foalsitting jobs after that.

Graduating from highschool led her to search for proper employment. She faced limited options. Many fields involved with foals required degrees she did not have, nor did she desire.

At nineteen, she found work at a nursery. Given menial tasks such as providing food, water, changing cloths and diapers meant she always had something to do, but she missed the satisfaction. These weren't just foals, they were babies. Her individual participation held no impact, made no difference. So, after some years, she began to search elsewhere.

With experience under her wings, she wound up at the Senator Blue Orphanage, located in the heart of Cloudsdale's center. It would not be the one she stayed at, but it would be the one that propelled her to her dream career.

The orphanage, out of practicality more than prejudice, could not allow non-pegasi. It was for their own safety; without the use of reliable, high-level magic, other tribes could not walk the clouds as they did. Swan, however, wished to help foals from every tribe. She yearned to experience the rich tapestry of Equestrian life, diverse and fluid, not so static and conformist as Clousdalian culture.

At twenty-seven she resigned, leaving for the shining jewel of Equestria to find opportunity. There she discovered the Royal Canterlot Orphanage, run off the direct funding from the Crown's own coffers. Offering the best conditions and most - albeit historical - prestige, it seemed an obvious choice.

The paycut was insignifcant in the face of those details. Paycuts also mattered less when the orphanage offered on-site living. Ever since, it was there she resided.

Countless children came and went. Some found adoptees, others did not. She loved them all the same, and took pride in helping them grow. Thirteen years of service flew past, and she ascended to the high position of Head Matron - the youngest in the orphanage's long history.

That was some two decades ago.

She was an older mare now. She had plenty life left within her, but the years and stress had taken their toll.

Wrinkles, however small and subtle, tugged on her face. Her fur, once sleek and luscious, faded to a dull, kindly warmth. Her mane and tail retained its vibrance, though hung more limp than the smooth waves it once held. Her eyes, meanwhile, soft and warm like baked blueberries, remained bright as ever.

She hummed a tuneless melody, placing signed pages to the stack on her left. Those stamped, she set to the right. As she prepared to begin last month's paperwork, she heard a hollow, distant sound.

Her ears perked and strained to listen. While her vision remained sharp as in her youth, the same could not be said for her hearing. The sheets of rain from outside, pounding against the roof, made her task no simpler.

She waited, and heard it again - rhytmic, hard, impactful. The noise floated from down the hall, near the front entrance. It sounded like... like a thump on wood.

No, not a thump.

A knock.

Grunting, she stood from her chair. How long had she been sitting? The snap, crackle, and pop of her joints told her it must have been hours.

Gently clip-clopping her way towards the front, two large double wooden doors, she wondered what it might have been. After her time working at an Orphanage she had reason to suspect a couple things. At this time of night, one seemed more likely than the other.

Undoing the lock, she pushed open the leftmost door. She discovered no one present. She called out, just in case, and received no answer.

She knew what this was, then.

Glancing down, she confirmed her suspicions.

A basket lay at the precipice. Inside rest a swaddle of cloth, colored like a tropical sea. Between the folds, towards the top, a golden nub of a horn poked out through a mess of red and yellow strands. The way they curled and twisted reminded her of living flame, or a phoenix's feathers.

Big, soulful eyes peered into hers. They were, she noted, the same shade as the blanket.

"Hello little one," she heard herself say. Her voice sounded distant, muffled by the rain. "Let's bring you in, shall we?"

Taking the basket's handle between her teeth, she paced backwards. She shut the door, and made for her own room. Not until paperwork had been settled and the foal had become adjusted to this place could she put them in the nursery.

"There you are. I have to work now, but I'll be back soon, alright? Just close your eyes and get some rest."

Placing the genlest of kisses upon the baby's horn, she noted something. A tag was attached to the handle, and a pair of letters were fit in beside the blankets. Squeezed in beside the foal fit a hoof-stitched plush toy, a bright golden sun with a big, smiling face, sewn onto it a pair of sunglasses perched just under the eyes.

She took the former, and left the latter. Walking downstairs away from the Matron's Quarters, Swan re-entered her workspace. Placing each upon her desk she read.

The tag came first. 'Sunset Shimmer', it said. The name of the foal.

Next were the letters, sealed within non-descript envelopes. She cracked open the first.

'My gorgeous, shimmering Sunset'.

She stopped there. This was not meant for her eyes.

The second addressed her. Not specifically, but in spirit. It described the author's situation, why she had left her foal - a filly, Swan now knew - and a desperate plea from mother to mare.

Like other letters of similar ilk, she would do her best to honor it. From now on til she could no longer, the care of Sunset Shimmer was her duty.

Her, among many.

Sunset was a willful little thing.

This became apparent the first day, when she tossed her food in Swan's face. The other foals ate their breakfast without issue, a mix of unsalted, unspiced peas and porridge. But no, not Sunset Shimmer.

Wiping the grool off her fur, she attempted to feed Sunset more directly. The second the spoon neared her lips, magic flung it across the room.

Swan tried everything she could, all the tricks, techniques, and combination of words that could settle unruly foals. None worked. Sunset would not be dissuaded.

Swan gave up. She had to figure out what this imp of a unicorn would take. Several hours and bowls of spilled food later, she had her answer.

As it turned out, the little she-devil liked her meals spicy.

Her wild nature extended to places beyond meal time also. Swan had seen this before; foals did not always take so well to new locations, let alone without the presence of their caretaker. Worse, the mare who'd birthed her. Sunset looked around a year old, more than enough time for her mother to imprint.

Interactions with other foals yielded just as poor results. She hoarded toys, and when another child - or adult - attempted to take them from her, she threw the hissy fit to end all hissy fits. Blocks were thrown, dolls ripped apart, many an infant left crying, and a mess for the matrons to clean up.

One afternoon, she and they discussed what should be done. They concluded on the idea of isolation, keeping Sunset away from the others until she learned to play nice.

The tipping point came with her magical outbursts, once nearly every hour. Common knowledge spoke on the power of a baby unicorn's magic, but Sunset was something else, her power seemingly fuelled by the intensity of her emotions.

The worst of it happened so innocuously. Matron Mayflower, preparing the babies' bedtimes, attempted to coax a train from the filly's grasp. Sunset had none of it. With an angry cry, her horn flashed, and Mayflower teleported inside the wall.

Fortunately, her front half stuck out, allowing the poor mare to breathe. It took an hour to remove her, and now they had to wait until Wednesday before repairponies could come fill the hole.

No less chaos marked the weeks following. Sunset proved herself a ticking time bomb. It was a matter of when - not if - she blew up, other foals or no.

"She's a firecracker," Okra said. Her tone made clear it was not a compliment.

Nutmeg smiled, amused. "Have you seen her hair? It's no wonder she's got such a fiery personality, ha!"

For a few months, Swan worried the foal might have to be moved elsewhere.

She hated transfers. In other orphanages, she couldn't know that a child was being treated properly. Sometimes though, no other choices remained. It was that, or they'd have to call the Royal Manager to deploy a psychologist.

This, thankfully, did not come to pass. They learned, pouring through various methods, that Sunset most consistently behaved for Swan. Said consistency was relative, but better relative than not at all. Some worried for her, said this child was not her burden to bear, but Swan ignored them.

She had read that letter. She understood, on some level, without the license for psychiatry, why Sunset lashed out the way she did.

Thus, she took on sole responsibility. Others would help, but she would remain the filly's primary caregiver. In other words - a replacement, for the mother she'd loved, and lost.

In the meanwhile, she played with her, read to her, taught her the things a small one needed knowing. To her surprise, the little girl delighted her. One thing she could say on her behalf - she was not a dumb filly.

She learned fast. Round pegs in square holes? Forget it. That toy set got tossed out before the week's end.

Swan pulled out the mazes. Then the puzzles. Finally, they settled on construction sets, the sort that a pony could mix and match to their heart's desire. Only then did she sate Sunset's endless demand for stimulation.

More time passed, and she spoke her first word.

"No!"

It hardly surprised her. Squinting, Swan appraised her peas' porridge. Nothing seemed amiss, until she sniffed.

No spice.

At least she no longer threw it.

Time continued its inexorable march. Swan handled the orphanage's duties, as always. In them she managed Sunset's paperwork, and got her in the system. That dealt with, they could wait a few years and find her a placement in school.

Once Sunset could speak, Swan instructed her more personally. She taught her the concepts any pony young or old should know - boundaries, kindness, empathy.

These Sunset took to less easily, but she managed. By the fourth year, she could interact with others without too much incident.

That wasn't to say she was perfect about it, though few children were. She got into fights. Nothing serious ever occurred, but she'd embroil herself in the occasional spat over what toy belonged to whom, or if said comment was meant as an insult.

And she loved competition. Wherever she could make one, she did, with peers and matrons alike. Staring contests, tower building, speed reading - nothing lay out the realm of possibility.

There was nothing wrong with that, not necessarily, but Sunset despised losing. If she blinked first she denied it, would turn it into a whole debate. If her tower toppled first, she smacked the other down in anger. If her competitor finished reading before her, she took the book for herself, or ripped it up in front of them.

On this matter, Swan had two comforts. One was that Sunset rarely lost.

The second, that other children got quick to her ways. If she proposed a contest, or who could do what for longer, they shut her down, or left entirely. On the other hoof, Swan could see that bothered her. Profoundly.

It wasn't that Sunset meant to be mean. While she had issues interacting with others, she meant welll. When push came to shove she could be the friendliest, most charming little filly this side of Equestria, with the biggest smile and widest blue eyes Swan had ever seen. A real heartwarmer, if there ever was one.

Yet she was so easy to upset. Any friends she made she' inevitably pushed away, often without intending to, because of her explosions or callous disregard. Other times, she got wrapped up in her schoolwork and own ambitions, forgetting the friendship existed to begin with.

From the reports Swan received, the story went the same way in school. Teachers lauded her performance, but lambasted her attitude. She was mouthy, they said - loud, egotistical, disruptive: a troublemaker. Sadly, Swan couldn't disagree.

She knew the label that applied to Sunset Shimmer:

Problem child.

She'd dealt with those in the past. A fact of working with children meant you would inevitably come across at least one. How you chose to deal with that was up to you.

Swan handled hers with patience, compassion, and understanding.. She saw how it went with those who preferred punishment and retribution. It never fared well.

Expressing empathy, finding the root of it all - those solutions reaped the best rewards. Bad behavior was rarely the illness, but the symptom. If you could determine the underlying cause and tackle it with care, the problem resolved itself. In this way, Swan acted as a kind of therapist.

The challenge Sunset posed, was she simply refused to speak on any of her issues. Swan knew they were there. She saw it in her eye, heard it in the way she spoke.

Where other ponies cracked under Swan's gentle words and earnest reassurance, Sunset clammed up. No pony that had nothing to hide did that.

"Are you doing okay?" Swan might ask.

"I'm fine." Sunset would always say.

"What did you do that for?"

"He looked at me funny!" or "She was being stupid!"

"Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

The pattern stuck on repeat, over and again. Sunset was an enigmatic filly, a blackout puzzle box Swan wanted to piece apart, but could never so much as remove the exterior shell.

She had her guesses, thinking that Sunset did what she did as some form of self-imposed expectation, but couldn't say anything for certain. She could try for firmer methods, but Swan couldn't bring herself to punish a kindergartener for not spewing out all her problems. Eventually, she realized it wasn't about her age at all.

Sunset was exhausting, simple as that. But Swan... To Swan, Sunset meant something else.

Swan might not concern herself to this extent with any other foal, but Sunset was different. She took that oath. she swore the filly would be her charge years ago. That she hadn't met her mother and didn't even know her name made no difference. She'd die before Sunset entered that household again.

The worst of it, she saw the potential in Sunset. Smart, determined, ambitious, talented - she bore the traits of somepony who could become great. Just as much, she lacked discipline, forethought, and self-reflection.

Then, one night, she glimpsed Sunset's mind for the hint of a moment.

Up late again, she busied combing through documents the same way she'd done the evening Sunset arrived. Only, there was no rain. There was no knock. And she had a lantern burning, instead of a candle.

The voice startled her, pulling her head from work's bureaucratic mire. She glanced up, and smiled at the foal in the doorway.

Tears stained her amber cheeks. The one thought which passed through Swan's mind - 'Sunset never cries'.

Celestia knew for all the tumbles she got in, she had plenty reason to. Swan remembered once, playing tag outside, Sunset fell and scraped her knee not unlike the colt from Swan's past. Unlike him, she didn't cry, barely made a peep no matter how ugly the pain twisted her expression.

"Sweetness," she said, stood, moving towards her. "Sunshine. Is everything alright?"

She half expected her to say 'Yes, I'm fine', like she had every time before.

Sunset shook, choking back a sob. Swan closed in, wrapped a wing around her neck, and rest her chin atop her head away from the horn. "Shhh," she soothed, the way she'd done with that little pegasus boy. "It's okay. I'm here. I've got you."

It took minutes before Sunset managed words. When she did, they came out tripping, blubbering over her own tongue. "I-I had a nightmare. I've had it a bunch of times and I thought they would go away but they keep happening a-and, and this one was the worst."

Swan nodded, shushing, nuzzling her cheek. "Tell me. I'm here for you."

"On any other night, Swan would meet with denial, obstruction, walls upon walls upon walls.

"I'm i-in the rain. It's nighttime, and raining really really hard. Somepony is... somepony is above me but I can't see them, b-but I know they're trying to keep me safe. B-b-but I can't see anything else, and I don't know what's going on, and then they put me down. I keep begging them not to leave me alone but they won't listen, o-or can't hear me, I dunno which. And it's dark, and I can't see anything, but it's cold and raining and it's stupid and I'm stupid but it just keeps making me cry and I don't know why." She gasped the final words, breaking back down to sobs.

Swan understood. And in that moment her heart broke, just a little.

She didn't push for more. The dream was clear - a half-forgotten memory, twisted and tainted by time, festering with the implaceable sense that something was missing.

That someone was missing.

Afterwards, she turned often to that unread letter. Curiosity chewed her insides, but she refrained from reading. She did wonder if she should bring it up - all of it - to Sunset, explain the missing piece in her soul.

She decided, better to not. Sunset was too young. She wouldn't understand, and it might make things worse. When she was older, more mature, her mind properly developed, then it would be time.

Until then, Swan would do her best. She would raise Sunset. She would make her happy.

She would be her mother.

Sunset blinked, yawned. Through squinty eyes, she saw dim gray-blue sky through her window, and frowned.

Morning. It was morning.

Morning meant school, and she hated school.

She rolled over in bed, facing the door. She didn't wanna go. School sucked. Her teachers sucked. None of her classmates liked her. The work was boring.

Why couldn't they move her up to third grade? Yeah she was seven, but she was way smarter than the other kids. She could take it, she was tough!

Stupid. It was stupid. And dumb.

She closed her eyes. If she couldn't see the light, maybe she wouldn't have to go. If she pretended to be asleep or sick, maybe Swan wouldn't make her.

Except, she'd tried both of those before. A lot. It never worked.

Swan was old, so she knew all the tricks. One time, Sunset tried giving herself a fever by heating her face up, so Swan left and got the thermometer. Another time, she tried coughing, so Swan nodded, closed the door, pretended to leave, and opened it up with a big grin when she caught Sunset playing with her toys. It didn't matter what she did, Swan always knew.

Sunset listened to the sounds outside. Birds chirped, and a quiet breeze made her curtains flutter. What if she hopped out the window and hid behind the bushes? Bet Swan wouldn't find her there.

She huffed through her nose. She'd be in big trouble if she tried that, so she decided against it.

Pretending to be asleep was her best option. It wouldn't work, but if she fought long enough she'd get to school late. That was good enough.

The door knocked, three times. "Sunset!" Swan called. She sounded so nice and sweet, like honey. "It's time to get up."

Sunset huffed. Obviously it was time to get up. She wasn't stupid.

Quiet returned. Then, more knocking. "Sunseeeet."

Sunset didn't move. She wanted to stay in bed, just a little longer. And what she wanted, she was gonna get.

Turning back over, like a little sneaky mouse, she grabbed Mister Sun. She nuzzled into him with a smile, hugging him close. He smelled nice, kind of like perfume, but not like Swan. She didn't know why she liked it, but she did.

"I know you're awake in there. You can't fool me." Sunset didn't answer. Swan sighed. "Alright, I'm coming in!"

The ugly old brass knob rattled, and the door's hinges creaked open. The wood creaked under Swan's hooves too. Without having to look, Sunset felt Swan standing over her.

"You can't stay in bed all day, you know. You have to go to school. It's important."

Psh. Important for dumb ponies, maybe.

"Okay, last chance. Get up now, or I'll make you get up."

Sunset said nothing.

Hoofsteps moved around her, to the end of her bed. Something gently grabbed her covers, then yanked hard.

Cold air seeped into her fur. She whined, kicked her hindhooves, and coiled into a tight ball around Mister Sun. He'd keep her warm. He wouldn't make her get up.

"Nooo, that's not faiiir!"

"All's fair in love and war, my dear. Now!" Smirking, Swan clapped her hooves. "Get that patootie of yours up and at'em! It's time for school."

"School is dumb," she said, glaring. "Everything is easy."

"What is or is not easy is of no concern to me. School is school. Now, maybe I could petition the administrator to bump you up a grade-"

Sunset shot right up, eyes wide. "Really?" she gasped, almost out of breath.

"If!" Swan held up a hoof. "You be a good girl, and move that little flank out of bed."

Sunset scrambled up, leaving Mister Sun behind. She grabbed her saddlebag with her magic, shoving her books inside and the finished worksheets from Friday night. Clipping it on, she trotted over to her door and hopped from hoof to hoof.

"I'm ready!"

"No." Swan shook her head. "You're not. You need to brush your teeth, and you need to eat breakfast."

Sunset stamped her hoof. "But whyyyy? I hate breakfast. And why would I brush my teeth before eating, shouldn't I do it after?"

Frowning, Swan walked behind her and pushed her forward with both wings. "Because I said so, Missy. Now hurry up. If you hate breakfast so much, it's about to go cold and you'll really hate it then. You're already late."

She didn't want to, but did what Swan asked. She flew into the closest bathroom, used one of the disposable brushes - she forgot to grab hers on the way out - and brushed her teeth angrily. Nopony would see it, but it made her feel better.

Breakfast was boring - the same as usual. Eggs, haysausage, with some mushrooms and peppers that made it at least kind of interesting. No spice or flavor though, barely any salt. The hotsauce bottle helped, and she was glad Swan kept her a cabinet stocked with it just for her.

Then, she was out the front doors. Swan stayed behind, waving and wishing her a good day.

Yeah right. Like any school day was ever 'good'.

When she got to school, she tried to stay on her best behavior. Better chance Swan would do what she promised. So, she didn't speak unless spoken to, didn't fight her teachers - even when they were wrong - and didn't play a single prank. She still raised her hoof to answer things though 'cause she knew more than the other kids.

She was getting antsy by math class. She had recess next period, and she had to get out and do something or she was gonna explode. The other kids didn't like playing against her one on one - they said she was 'too mean' - but teams always wanted her if they could get her. Cause mean or not, they knew she was the best.

But, until then, she had to behave.

The teacher - Mister Cosine - wrote some numbers on the board. Last grade they did single-digit addition and subtraction, before moving on to double digits. He started this year by reviewing that for a couple weeks, and now they were getting into multiplication. She wondered if she had to wait another grade before they got to division.

Sunset yawned. Fidgeting, she looked around for something to hold her attention. She wanted to draw, but whenever she tried outside Art class she got scolded. The teachers said she couldn't focus if she was drawing, even though that wasn't true! Sometimes it actually helped her focus. They never wanted to hear that though. Adults always thought they were right.

She glanced down at her bag, thinking. She had her lunch inside - a grilled HBLT, some fruit, and a juicebox with a straw.

Hmmmm...

She had an idea.

She had to stay hidden, and magic would give her away, so she pulled her bag up like non-unicorns did. She grabbed the straw, got it out of the plastic as quiet as she could, and watched the room to make sure nopony was looking.

Her class was big. She sat in one row, fifteen seats from front to back, with two more rows on both sides. Five times fifteen meant five times five plus five times ten, which was twenty-five and fifty. Minus one for her, that meant she had seventy-four ponies to pick. The further away they were the better.

There! A dorky colt with dark brown fur and pink hair. He had big round glasses, and his eyes were glued to the chalkboard.

Perfect.

She kept him in the corner of her eye, ripping out a slip of paper and chewing it up. Pressing it into the straw with her lips, she checked again to make sure no one was looking, and took aim. The shot flew, and she hid the evidence before the spitwad hit him with a funny splat!

"Heeey!"

Mister Cosine's head snapped over. His gray-peppered mustache quivered when he spoke. "Mister Strawberry Fudge, what is the meaning of your outburst?" The slant in his eyes said he didn't find it very funny.

"Someone spat paper at me!"

Sunset hid her snicker. She couldn't let anyone see or they'd know.

Trying to avoid getting noticed, she stared at her notebook. He looked at her anyways. Why was he already blaming her? That wasn't fair, even though she did it.

"Miss Shimmer."

"Yes, Mister Cosine?"

"Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No, Mister Cosine. I was reading my notes from Friday."

She hid one lie behind the other. If Celestia smiled upon her, he wouldn't notice the first one.

"You should be taking notes on this class, not reading notes from last, Miss Shimmer. You may do excellent work but that does not excuse you from following directions. Now, as I was saying-"

It worked! Yes.

For the rest of class, she kept blowing spitwads. By a miracle, nopony realized it was her. She picked her victims too fast, and ducked down too quick.

Ten minutes before the bell rang, she made a dare. Spotting a girl to the row on her left, two seats up, she aimed for the back of her head. She lined up the final shot, and blew.

The filly shrieked, and Sunset's luck ran out. She saw Sunset before she finished hiding the straw.

"Mister Cosine, Mister Cosine!"

"Yes, Miss Tinsel?"

"Sunset is the one doing it!"

His bushy eyebrow raised. "Doing what, exactly?"

Sunset's eyes darted between them. Her hooves fumbled, and she got the straw inside.

"Blowing spitwads! She just did it to me, see see?" Tinsel turned her head, pointing to the wet paper on her mane, a pretty weave of tight gold and platinum curls. The moment he noticed, she shook it out of her hair, scowling.

"And what proof do you have that it's her?"

Tinsel scoffed. "Uhm, she's Sunset"

Mister Cosine harumphed, walking their way. "Whether or not you are correct, I don't appreciate your tone. See you treat your elders with a little more respect."

Tinsel nodded, squeaked, and shrank back as he approached. She gulped, before puffing up and got back a little bit of confidence, pointing to Sunset's desk. " I saw her put it in there."

Her heart thumped.

He loomed next to her. "Miss Shimmer, is this true? If you admit it now, this will go much easier for you."

"I didn't do anything," she blurted.

Moon! Why did she say that? He was gonna find out anyway. Stupid stupid stupid!

Frowning, he leaned down to peer inside. She leaned back.

He grumbled. "Please move your things to the back of class, Miss Shimmer."

Everyone 'ooooh'ed at her. Head down, she nodded and obeyed. In a flash, she teleported with her things to the empty detention desk in the right corner of the room.

"Show-off!" Tinsel jeered. For the first time, Sunset noticed she was a unicorn. Sunset stuck out her tongue and blew a rasperry.

"Silence! I've had quite enough interruptions today. Since we are finished with the lesson, I will assign you your homework. I expect it on my desk by tomorrow. I'll be leaving for the rest of this week, so there will be a substitute taking my place."

The class cheered.

"Oho, don't think you're getting off easy, ponies. She'll be checking to make sure everyone has turned their work in. If it's not there, no recess for any of you for a week!"

The class 'Awww'ed.

After explaining the assignment, he cut class early. Everypony laughed and raced for the door, pouring into the hall. Grinning, Sunset got up to chase them out.

He stopped her at the door.

"Not you, Miss Shimmer. We need to talk."

Her tummy got tight. She ignored the feeling and went to his desk. She waited, but he didn't say anything.

The clock ticked and tocked while she watched him grade papers. They looked like they were from a higher grade because of the long division. She'd seen it in the last sections of her textbook, but it confused her when she tried doing it herself. She always forgot a number somewhere.

Finally he finished. His orange eyes met hers and pinned her in place.

"Miss Shimmer. Are you aware of why you are here, instead of playing out there?" He gestured to the window. Her classmates were playing out in the courtyard.

"No," she lied.

"Because you were causing trouble and interrupting my class. Several times, might I add. Six, in fact."

"You counted?"

His mustache quivered. "I'm a Math teacher. I counted."

"But I-"

"No buts. This is a pattern of behavior I've noticed from you, Miss Shimmer, and I grow weary of it. Troublemakers are something I am accustomed to, and you have officially crossed that line for me from mere troublemaker to delinquent. If you do not shape up your act, I will be forced to report you to the Principal's office."

She pouted.

"Furthermore. As punishment, you will not be going to recess today. You will stay here, and you will write 'I will not blow spitwads at ponies' on the blackboard until I tell you to stop. With!" he punctuated. "Your mouth. I do not want to see a single solitary twinkle of magic from that horn of yours. Am I understood?"

She looked down and answered, "Yes, Mister Cosine."

"Good. I will be here to make sure you do your job. Now get it done and be quiet aboutt it. I have papers to grade."

She trudged to the chalkboard, taking up the least used chalk that was there. She was going to need it.

I... will... not... blow... spitwads... at... ponies...

Used to her magic, the words were clumsy, messy and jagged. Not like her neat smooth hornwriting.

When he wasn't looking, she glared at him. Jerk. He knew she only used her magic to write.

Stupid. Stupid Tinsel. Stupid Mister Cosine. Stupid school. Stupid Swan for making her go to school.

Why did it even matter? It's not like spitwads killed anyone. She was just trying to have fun. Wasn't her fault school was so darn boring. If anything, it was their fault for placing her in the wrong grade!

Her parents would understand.

She tried not to think about them too often, but she couldn't help it. Sometimes, she felt like she remembered her mom, or what she looked like, or smelled like, or sounded like.

She missed them. She didn't understand why they left her behind. Did they not love her?

No, no, that couldn't be it. Parents always loved their kids.

A couple times, she thought about asking Swan about them. She couldn't work up the nerve to do it, though.

One day, she would.

After what felt like forever, stuck inside with the sound of scratching chalk, her teacher writing, and playing outside, the bell rang. Recess started. After two lines, she had to grab a stool.

Don't look down, don't look down. Don't look down or you're gonna fall.

She got to five full lines when the bell rang again.

"Mister Cosine, the bell rang."

He kept grading.

"I'm gonna be late for class."

"Yes, you will."

He kept grading.

She kept writing. The clock kept ticking. He kept grading. Fifteen minutes past time, he spoke up.

"You may leave."

She grit her teeth. She wanted to yell, or throw something at him. But, if she did that, he'd just get her in more trouble even though he was being unfair.

Saying nothing, she dropped the chalk back on the tray and left. Running to next period, she hoped Miss Globetrot wouldn't be too angry. Three voices chattered past the left hallway corner. She ignored them and turned. She had to get to class.

"Oh wow, look what the cat dragged in!"

Sunset froze. "Oh. Hi, Tinsel."

Tinsel sneered. The expression made her pretty beige, silver-freckled face look ugly. Two fillies flanked her, Gold Foil and Emerald Eminence.

Gold had a mocha-golden coat and swooping, pale-yellow waves that fell over her face. She grinned at Sunset with sharp yellow eyes that made her tummy upset.

Emerald looked bored, eyeing her up and down like she was a bug, frowning. She had the straightest hair of the three, one side of her mane was loose and the other pulled into a Prench braid like the one Matron Dejeur had. Her coat and hair sparkled like jade and emeralds, but her eyes were more like opal.

"What do you want," Sunset asked. "I'm late for History class."

"I don't want anything. You're the one who barged in front of us."

"I was trying," Sunset snorted. "To get to class."

Gold giggled. "Bet you'll get in trouble again."

"Mister Cosine made me late!"

Tinsel cocked her head. "That's your fault, though. You're the one who blew a spitwad at me."

"I was bored."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have picked someone else. Orphan girl."

She snarled. "Take that back."

"Nuh uh. Orphan girl, orphan girl, orphan girl!"

They stepped towards her. Gold and Emerald chanted with Tinsel. 'Orphan girl, orphan girl, orphan girl.'

Flaring her nostrils, Sunset scraped the linoleum with her hoof, like she was a charging bull. "Stay back or I'll zap you!"

"Ooooh, I'm soooo scared." Tinsel nodded to Emerald. "Emmy, see how she likes getting spat on."

Sunset tried to dodge. It didn't matter. Emerald spit, and the warm goo splattered on Sunset's cheek. She shuddered and whined. "Stop it!"

Tinsel nodded to her left. "Gold?"

Gold spit in her eye. Sunset winced and squeezed it shut.

"I-I'll zap you, I'm serious."

"Awww. Orphan girl is crying! Poor widdle baby," Gold said. Sunset wanted to slap her. "Can't even stand the taste of her own medicine."

"Maybe we should chew up her note book," Emerald drawled. Then spit the wads back at her."

Tinsel gasped. "Oh my gosh, Emmy. You are so smart," she gushed. "Get her bag!"

"No!"

Sunset didn't know magic well. She could teleport and manipulate, but that was about it.

She didn't need spells for this.

Revving up her horn, she concentrated. Seeing the magic in her head, she imagined it like a point of bright blue light, growing bigger and brighter until it crackled with energy.

She fired. Once, twice, three times. Tinsel yelped and jumped, but too slow. The bolt smacked her in the chest. In the commotion she stumbled right, knocking Emerald out of the way. The shot meant for Gold landed, the filly glued to the spot before it hit.

Sunset smiled.

"Teacher, teacher!"

Her smile died. Heart racing, She glanced around, teleported past them, and ran.

Sunset sat in her room, at her desk. She had her sketchbook in front of her, free to doodle in without teachers being annoying. There was no math in this one, no essays or schoolwork. It was all for her and nopony else!

Thankfully History went okay. Miss Globetrot, a 'pal-a-mino' earth mare with two pretty blonde braids, understood why she was tardy and excused her. Sunset still worried about the Principal for the rest of the day.

Nothing happened. She didn't bump into those girls again. The Principal never called her into her office either, so she hoped that meant she was safe.

Since she got home, she hadn't seen Swan once. She tried looking in her office, but didn't see her there, so she guessed she must be busy somewhere else in the orphanage.

She thought maybe Tinsel still said something, but eventually Sunset was pretty sure she was in the clear. She wouldn't get in trouble. Principal Primrose probably heard her story and was smart, so she knew Tinsel started it and not her.

At dinnertime, Swan came in with veggie noodle soup and crackers. Sunset's stomach rumbled, but when she saw her face her stomach fell.

"Hello, Sunset," Swan said.

"Hi, Matron Swan."

Swan's frown inched lower. "Formal tonight, are we?" She placed the tray on her table, refolding her wings. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Sunset paused a little too long. "...No."

She didn't sound super convincing either.

"I think there might be." Swan's eyes went to her sketchbook. "What are you working on there?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing to me. I think it looks very pretty. Did you draw this yourself?"

That was a stupid question. Who else would draw it?

No, she didn't wanna think like that about Swan. She shouldn't be mean. Swan was just asking.

"Mhm," she answered.

"Have you finished your homework?"

"No."

Swan sighed. "Sweetness, it's late. Do your work, please? The Principal already informed me about your little incident today."

Sunset chewed her lip. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do. You were blowing spitwads at your classmates in Math, and you zapped three random fillies in the hall."

Liar. Tinsel, she meant, not Swan. She only managed to catch her and Gold. Emerald was fine. And they weren't random!

Swan sat down, and broke crackers into the bowl like she knew Sunset liked. "Tell me what's wrong. The spitwads..." She sighed. She sounded tired, and Sunset felt a guilty lump form in her throat. "The spitwads I can understand. But the magic bolts? You could have seriously hurt somepony. And..."

She paused. "You know I have to ask. Is everything alright?"

The guilt went away. Not that question again.

"Yes. I'm fine."

Swan's expression changed. Sunset couldn't read it. "Could you at least explain why you did what you did?"

"I wasn't doing anything wrong," Sunset explained. She did believe it, honestly. Why did nopony else? "The paper, the spitwads I mean. I was just bored and trying to have fun. I don't get why it's a problem."

"It's not very nice to spit on ponies, and you should have been paying attention in class to begin with."

She considered that. And, what Tinsel and her friends had done. The burn in her eye.

No. That wasn't the same. She did it for fun. They were being mean, and trying to hurt her.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry."

"And what's this about attacking those three fillies? Tinsel, Gold, Emerald, do those names ring any bells?"

Sunset blushed. She stared at her sketch - a canyon landscape - for something to focus on that wasn't her Matron.

She whispered super quiet. "They were bullying me."

"Bullying you?"

"Uh huh. I blew a wad at Tinsel, and she caught me and got me in trouble with Mister Cosine. Then Mister Cosine made me write "I will not blow spitwads at ponies" on the board, and wouldn't let me use my magic. He held me back from History on purpose even though I tried to tell him I was gonna be late."

Sunset dared looking at Swan. Her face didn't change.

"Go on," she urged. "I'm listening."

"And when I left for History, Tinsel and her friends were there. They called me Orphan girl, and-"

Swan furrowed her eyebrows. "Does that bother you?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

"I... I dunno, but they were using it to make fun of me."

Swan sighed, brushing her feathers under Sunset's chin. Sunshine... There is nothing wrong with being an orphan. That is just the situation some ponies find themselves in. It's not your fault. But still, unkind names are not a good reason for hurting other ponies. If someone is bullying you, tell a teacher, or try to get away. Escalation of conflict does no pony no good."

Sunset huffed. "You didn't let me finish! They called me Orphan girl, and then started spitting on me. Emerald, or Gold, I don't remember. She spat in my eye, and it really hurt. Then they were gonna steal my notebook, and eat the paper and spit it on my face."

Swan scowled, but it didn't seem like she was scowling at her. "Is that true?"

"Uh huh."

"I'll speak with the Principal then, and your Math instructor. We'll get to the bottom of this, alright?"

"Okay."

She leaned in, kissing her forehead. Sunset leaned back and nuzzled her chestfluff. Sunset heard pegasi had extra chestfluff and if Swan was like them it was totally true. So warm.

"Thank you."

"Of course. Now go do your homework."

"Okay," she promised.

Swan started leaving and closing the door behind her, but stopped. "And one more thing. In spite of all that, if it is true, my point stands. Escalation only makes things worse. Next time, leave them be, and get away if you need to. If you'd have done that, this whole mess could have been avoided. Can you keep that in mind the next time something happens? For me?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good girl. I'll be back for your bedtime story in an hour."

Sunset went back to her sketchpad. Pushing it aside for dinner, she got a spoonful and hummed at the flavor. It was tasty.

Matron Nutmeg must have been cooking tonight. She was the best cook in the whole orphanage, and she knew exactly what Sunset liked. She didn't just throw in hotsauce or some more black pepper, but added a bunch of neat spices Sunset couldn't remember all the names of. Matron Nutmeg did it just for her, since the other kids didn't like spicy food very much, which she thought was dumb 'cause spicy food was the best.

Sunset snorted. She remembered Swan telling her how, when she was a baby, she'd throw her peas' porridge in her face because it wasn't spicy. It made her giggle. Swan laughed about it too.

Finishing up, she started her homework. She got through it fast because she was smart, but it was Monday, and teachers loved giving work on Mondays, so she had a lot to do. It took her over an hour. Swan waited a few minutes before she got done.

Crawling into bed, Swan sat beside her with a book in her wings. She read the story about a little ember lost in the woods in winter. Drifting around, it looked for something to light, and found a family freezing around their campfire, put out by the cold. The flame offered to help, and it lit the campfire, roaring up into a big happy blaze. The story ended with the family sleeping warm through the night, and the ember drifting off to find another spot.

Sunset wished she could be that ember, but really she wanted to be the family.

When it was done, Swan kissed her on the forehead, wished her goodnight, and turned the lights out. Sunset snuggled under the covers, pulling Mister Sun close and staring up at the dark blue of her Moonlit ceiling.

Swan said Mister Sun came with her at the orphanage. She said it was hoofstitched by her mom, also a blanket that matched her eyes. It was starting to get small for her now, but she kept it close anyways when she wanted to think about home.

Home.

Not here. Not this home. Her real home. The she was supposed to live and sleep in.

She liked Swan, but Swan wasn't her mom. They both knew that. Sunset would never say no to her stories, but...

Her mom should be the one doing that. Or her dad. They should be here, with her, helping her through school and reading her bedtime stories and waking her up in the morning even when she didn't wanna get up.

What would they say? They had to take her side, right? That made sense, for parents to know their kids better than other adults. Swan was nice, but to her she was just another filly like all the other orphans. She didn't really matter to 'Head Matron Swan'.

Except, Swan was there. Her parents weren't.

So... why?

She squeezed Mister Sun.

They should be there. She liked to believe they had good reasons for abandoning her, but she didn't know that. Maybe they were lazy. Maybe they hated her, or didn't want her.

It didn't make sense. That wasn't how things should be. Kids were supposed to grow up with their parents. That was just how it was.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She whispered to the room, hoping that maybe her parents would answer.

"Why did you leave me?"

Outside, a breeze blew. Her curtains fluttered. A dog barked.

A thought popped into her mind. It was an ugly thought, and she didn't like it, but she couldn't stop it either. It spread anyway, like a slow angry fire.

If they were good parents, she wouldn't be here right now.

She kicked the thought away. "No!" she yelled. They loved her!

They had good reasons. Honest ones. Somehow, some way, she just knew it had to be true.

It had to be true.

Chapter 3: You Are My Sunshine

Wardrums thundered in her skull.

Groaning, Sunset twisted herself from the sheets. She stumbled in place, nearly running into a wall. The room spun, and everything was too bright, hurt too much.

Yup. She had a hangover.

Common sense could've told her that, but experience confirmed it. She tried holding onto the knowledge that these things usually passed her quickly. In the headsplitting throb of the moment, it only helped so much.

Knowing her friends were likely going through far worse gave her the push needed to rise. Pinkie, AJ, and Rainbow drank, but rarely given their age. Fluttershy hit the bottle especially hard, and she'd never touched a drop in her life. Sunset guessed she was the one who woke her up heaving her guts into the toilet last night.

Downstairs, she confirmed her suspicionns, minus Applejack. Girl was tough, apparently. The others in question laid sprawled out wherever - heads in pillows, heads in hands, curled in the fetal position, groaning. The rest swarmed around them, Phoebe assisting where she- it could to make up for lost labor.

"Hey," croaked Sunset. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Ya'll look like trash. Sure yer in a good'nuff place fer that, sugarcube?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. Trust me when I say I've dealt with this before."

"No need to rub it in," Rainbow said. She took up the couch, arm over her head and eyes closed, taking gulps from a water bottle.

Sunset shrugged, then grinned. "Imagine how much worse it would be if Phoebe there didn't take your drink."

"Can it. God, shit my head hurts..."

Sunset snickered. Turning away, she threw herself into cleanup, doing whatever she could.

Fortunately, the mess was rather marginal. Nonexistent, even, compared to some mornings she'd witnessed. Not one shattered glass, line of bleach, or smear of blood. In some places, not having those meant you didn't have a party at all.

When they finished, Sunset's bone-deep migraine dulled to a numb, pulsing headache. The girls said their goodbyes and made for home. Pinkie and Fluttershy left with Twilight, not wanting to be caught by their parents, and intrigued by her offer of an experimental hangover cure in her lab. They were the last to go, and Sunset waved to her as the house went empty.

Why she hadn't left yet, she couldn't say, but she planned to now. She supposed she just... wanted to get a look at the living room, and replay the prior night's memories.

Graduation. Graduation.

She finished graduation.

Tossing a final glance, she closed the door and stepped out, turning the key Pinkie gave her and sliding it under the doormat. That seemed like a really stupid place to put your keys, but whatever. She didn't judge, and the places her friends lived were not the ones she did.

Hopping on her motorcycle, she pulled her own keys from her pocket, slotted them in and revved the engine. It purred under her like a contented cat, and she grinned down, patting its side.

"Good girl," she crooned. "Let's get outta here."

Pulling out of the driveway and onto the road, Sunset raced for what, to her, counted as home.

She didn't need directions to get there. Feeling and ingrained memory told her what roads to take, what turns to make, and what streets to avoid. Without that, she still knew she was close when the potholes appeared.

Before too long her apartment rose into view. It was an old, small, rundown thing built for low income, but the price was cheap and crime not too bad. She hadn't even been mugged once, though that was because both times someone tried, she handed their ass to them on a silver plate. A blackbelt and inner fire did that for you, especially when guys passed her off as some poor, weak, defenseless little girl.

Whenever she won, she always kicked their nuts. Every time. Get outta the gene pool, assholes.

Turning her motorcycle off, she hauled it up and found her door, looking it up and down. There'd been red paint here once, faded after years of disuse to a cracked and peeling rosey pink. She'd considered painting it fresh, but she didn't want to stand out from her neighbors.

Unlocking the door, she slipped her arm inside with small metal tongs, sliding out her three latches, one by one. She pocketed the tongs, kicked open the door with her boot, heaving her baby into the hall before shoving the door shut, redoing the locks.

She tilted her head, thinking. Really oughtta give her motorcycle a name one of these days. She'd had her for years, a sleek black beast of a thing, but never got her any cool paintjob. Or, y'know. Gave her a name.

She'd change that this summer. Maybe if she did one, it would lead to the other.

She went into the kitchen, pulling the half-drunk bottle of rum from her backpack. Before she left she'd looked around for the tequila, then remembered Starlight had taken it. Least it saw some good use.

'Sides. Now that she was home, she just wanted some water.

She filled up a glass, went back to the door and relocked everything, and crashed on her old, ratty, beaten up couch. She kicked her legs onto the splintering wood coffee table, stained with rings and splatter from its previous owner, and grabbed the remote, switching on the TV. It blared to life, and after going through all the basic access channels, she switched it back off.

It was a flatscreen, one of the few luxuries she owned. A slim black box sat beside it, and she went to turn it on, swiping the controller nearby.

The few times she'd been at Twilights to game, she'd used one of her battlestations. PC was better, no doubt about that, but she stuck to consoles. Cheaper for one, generally speaking, and easier to move in a hustle. Had to be prepared to get up and move house, always.

Her mind was not quiet, and she hoped playing would calm her mind. Title after title, she got bored, grew frustrated, gritting her teeth or flaring her nostrils before she eventually quit in a huff.

"Alright..." she sighed. "Maybe I could do some cleanup here too."

She took out her phone, and popped in her earbuds. She didn't really need to clean, or reorganize - not much to clean or reorganize for - but she did it anyway. It helped, but she was done by the hour and didn't want to do it again.

Maybe she'd just take a quick nap, and hope she woke up feeling better. That sounded nice right about now, and her headache hadn't gone away either. Win win.

She entered the third and final room of her dingy little apartment - bathroom didn't count - and despaired slightly.

She'd seen her friends' rooms. Her friends' houses. Shit, she lived in Flash's for a while. She knew what real bedrooms looked like, and this wasn't it.

It reminded her too much of her childhood. From when she was very little, and back in the frigid dorms of Celestia's School.

Empty. Lifeless. Save a pitiful few things. At least she could say she owned this place - nominally, for as much as rent meant ownership.

'Better than concrete,' she told herself. She had to count her blesings, and her current life was a hell of a lot more blessed than it should be.

Her desk sat against the left wall, tucked into the corner away from her window. There, she had a plain black laptop - she liked black, okay? - and that was it other than some fiction books and the cheap office chair in front of it. The right arm skewed right, some shittily manufactured hinge that broke last August she hadn't gotten 'round to fixing yet.

She slept on the opposite side, a mattress with decent pillows and covers, but only a mattress. She bought it used, of course.

Her dirty clothes laid on the floor beside the closet. Inside, she had a decently-ish sized wardrobe - comprising mostly of gifts, most from Rarity. Sniffing her windblown shirt, she scrunched her nose and changed out, tossing them into the growing pile and swapped for a plain teal tank and skinny jeans. And, because she felt like it today, put on her spiked leather collar, complete with a dangling silver chain.

She threw herself into bed, turning on her side and snuggling up with her pillow. She shut her eyes, hearing the cityscape outside, and wished she lived somewhere like AJ. Somewhere with real nature, birds and insects, not the constant thrum of cars, the occasional pigeon, and bi-weekly gunfight.

She tried to sleep. She tossed and turned, hair whipping back and forth, the chain of her collar dangling. She could reach down and check the time on her phone, but didn't. She knew from experience keeping track of how long it was taking her to fall asleep only got her more restless.

Her brain itched. There was something in the back of her mind, something she tried to remember but couldn't. Was it from last night? Did one of her friends mention something?

Two cats began yowling outside, and she gave up. Roaring out a groan, she rolled off to sit on the floor, banging her fist on the window and hoping it scared them off.

It didn't.

No point trying to get back in bed now. It wasn't going to work. Slipping out her phone she read the time, and had a fucking conniption.

One hour. She'd been trying to sleep for one hour.

She tossed the phone aside. What to do now, though? She was twitchy, and if she didn't figure out why quick she'd be taking a trip to poundtown on her punching bag.

In her periphery, she spotted her accoustic guitar laying in the corner. Her eyes lit up, and she scooched over to snag it, shuffling her butt over until she had her back to the window. She rest the instrument in her lap, legs folded, and plucked the first string.

Playing her guitar, electric or otherwise, always calmed her nerves. It was an outlet, a way to express herself without screaming at a wall or strangling a stress toy. More productive too, since she wrote her own music, though she'd only played one or two songs in public, and only then once or twice.

Thrum, thrum, thrum. She leaned back, resting her head against the cool glass pane. Each pluck and reverb seeped into her soul, bringing her clarity.

She played, singing under her breath for Crown knew how long. She got lost in the rhythm, captured by whatever songs went through her head, or melody rose to the surface. Despite that, she felt more down to Earth than she'd ever been.

In times like these, she didn't think about what she wanted to play. She just played it, working the delicate strings, smiling at the beautiful sounds they made. Slowly, as the sun moved across the horizon, dipping low into an amber-lit sky, she found an unexpected direction. Old words from long ago freed themselves from forgotten memories.

Somehow, she didn't realize what she sang, until she finished.

"Equestria, a land I love, a land of harmony,

Our flag does wave from high above, for ponykind to see,

Equestria a land of friends, where ponykind do roam,

They say true friendship never ends, Equestria my home."

Sunset inhaled sharply, choking on the final word.

Twilight was right.

A week later, she stood in front of the statue. For nostalgia's sake, she wore her hot pink tanktop, orange skirt, and high heel boots. She had the leather jacket folded up, tucked under her arm.

The sky showed the murky, grayish-blue of early dawn. It caught the celestial bodies in a strange sort of purgatory. Too early for the sun to rise, or the moon to set.

She didn't see any students milling around, and wouldn't for another hour. It was an... odd feeling, knowing that she wasn't one of them. Not anymore.

She wasn't sure she liked it.

How long before no one in that school remembered her? How long until the magic faded, her story got lost? Would the staff know, or would they leave eventually, too?

She knew the answer. On any long enough timescale, they would. They all would. A fable from fillyhood came to mind, something about the great statue of some ancient pony empress, buried in dunes the size of mountains. Ozmodia.

Silly. Stupid, even, to think she ever believed she could put herself in the history books. She wanted it so badly back then, for years, to the point she warped herself into something wicked, unrecognizable.

It wasn't the first time she'd had this line of thought. After all, Canterlot High wasn't the first school she attended.

She touched her palm to the statue's surface. It would no longer serve as a good point of travel. It never really had been, but now?

It had to be moved, that much was clear. How she and Princess Twilight would go about doing that, she hadn't the slightest clue. A concern better left for later.

Before stepping through, she went down the checklist in her head.

Ray was with Fluttershy. Rainbow had her motorcycle. Applejack had her guitars. Twilight had the keys to her apartment, and the girls would pair up on the weekends to check it hadn't been broken into. Rarity suggested she keep her clothes to be safe, and Sunset obliged.

Quitting her job hadn't been as simple. She had to lie to her boss, and say she couldn't make it for at least a month, leaving it as 'an emergency back home' and nothing else.

She hated it. But, she got what she wanted, and her employer promised she'd be welcomed back at any time. Sunset thanked him, shook his hand, and she watched him take her outfit into the back with a tightness in her chest.

She didn't like lying about it, but she had to keep that avenue open. She had a good thing going there, and sushi waitress tips were pretty good, too.

Confident that was everything, she drank in the morning air. A breeze whispered by, shifting her hair and skirt away from the portal.

This was it.

For at least a month, she'd be back in Equestria. Surrounded by other ponies. Finally home, after five long years.

She stepped forward. Something exploded behind her, and whipping around she peered through a billowing cloud of purple smoke. A familiar silver-haired girl walked out, coughing the cloud away.

Sunset crossed her arms. "Trixie," she deadpanned. Her glare must have been pretty intense, if the aspiring magician's cowed look was anything to go by. "What are you doing here?"

To Sunset's surprise, the question didn't faze her. "Trixie should be asking you the same thing."

Sunset rolled her eyes. "I'm not really in the mood for games right now, Trix. Answer the question. Why are you here, and what do you want? Are you trying to stop me or something?"

"Not exactly. You told everyone you were leaving for a while, but you never said why."

"Didn't think I had to."

"No, you're right. It's not fair of me to pry, But..." Trixie chewed her lower lip. "You've had your mind on something these past few months. I'm... concerned, Sunset."

That made her pause. Trixie rarely ever used her first name.

"Was I that obvious?"

Trixie had the humility to blush. Maybe?"

Sunset frowned. "Go on, then. What do you think is my deal?" She gestured, frowned deeper as Trixie winced. It sounded harsher than she intended.

"Well..." Trixie scuffed the ground. One hand in her pocket, the other reached to pull her hoodie over her head, like she was trying to hide from her. Did she really scare people that much? "I know you've been away from your home for a while, Equestria, I mean. Now you're free, and you have the chance to go back. Trixie imagines," she said, donning a voice of confidence. "You feel conflicted."

Sunset narrowed her eyes. "What makes you think that?"

Trixie held up her hands. Defensive gesture. "Nothing! Nothing specific, I mean. It's just the feeling I get. You've been acting weirder the closer we got to graduation and-"

"Weirder?"

"Like, on edge."

Sunset shrugged, tapping her foot. "Maybe I've been worried about some new random magical bullshit fucking my last year of highschool up the ass. I think that's a pretty reasonable fear to have considering, oh I dunno, everything?" She jerked her head at the statue for emphasis.

"See, I thought the same at first." Trixie took a step forward. Sunset took one back. "But it's only gotten worse since graduation day, so I know that's not what this is about."

Trixie frowned, pinching her eyebrows tight. "You may be a good liar, Sunset Shimmer. Better than anyone I know, but need I remind you, you're dealing with me! The Grrrreat and Powerful Trixie!"

She struck a pose.

Waited.

Sunset wasn't amused. "Uh huh, yeah." She tapped her foot harder. "Gonna be real honest with you, Lulamoon. I don't like this therapy analyst game you're playing."

Trixie looked hurt. Sunset felt bad, but she obviously didn't want to have this conversation. What she had going on in her head was of no one's concern but her own.

She half-expected Trixie to push harder. Trixie surprised her instead.

"You're right. I apologize. I'm being pushy."

Sunset didn't know what to say. So, she stayed quiet.

Trixie picked up the slack. "Listen, Sunset. Do you remember that conversation we had last August? during that whole Brain Rock thing?"

"Memory Stone."

Trixie waved a hand. "Yeah yeah, Brain Stone, Memory Rock, same difference. My point is, that meant something to me. We became friends because, even with all my memories erased, I trusted you. I trust you now, and I trust you to know what you should keep to yourself, but I do want to make sure you're okay. Can you promise me you're okay? That's all I want to know."

Sunset breathed in. The cool air came as a shock, making her notice how hot she felt, how tight she was digging her nails.

She sighed. The moment left her, for the most part.

"Okay. I promise."

"Thank y-"

"And I'll tell you what's up, but only you, got it? Keep that pretty mouth of yours shut."

"mmmmhm!" Trixie nodded, making a gesture of zipping her lips closed.

"CHS wasn't the first place I did some bad stuff. Neither was Earth." She turned, rubbing the contours of the statue pedestal with her thumb. She didn't want to look at Trixie. "There's a whole other life I led on that side of the portal. It's one I never talked to anyone about, not entirely at least. I don't think anybody knows about all of it except me, not even Celestia."

"Principal Celestia? What would you have told her about it?"

Sunset shook her head. "Sorry, my bad. Forgot you didn't know. I meant Princess Celestia, the one in Equestria, not here. She used to be my mentor, before I spat in her face and ditched her for a human ghetto, anyway."

Trixie gaped. "Your Celestia was a princess?"

"In name. Technically an actual monarch, though she doesn't have absolute power. Her, Luna, Twilight, and Cadance too."

Trixie smirked. Sunset didn't like the glint in her eye. "You'll have to show Trixie around some time."

"Absolutely not."

"Whatever you say, Shimmer! Trixie will see these pony princesses for herself. You cannot stop her! Like, physically, you can't. Not as long as you're over there and I'm over here." She grinned.

"Moving on. I did wrong by a lot of people here, but I also worked my ass off to show how much I'd changed. I never did that on the other side, and I didn't realize it until recently. That's why I have to go back. I have to make things right. They deserve it as much as anyone. In some cases..." She paused, tensed, swallowed. Her knuckles turned white as the statue, nails bent against the unyielding stone. "In some cases, they deserve more. More than I could ever give them."

Ragged breaths came in, and out. A soft hand squeezed her shoulder. Sunset bunched her muscles, eyeing her back.

There wasn't any mischief in her smile. Just an understanding kindness. Trixie stepped back, and stuffed her hands in her hoodie. "Thank you for telling me, and I'll be quiet, promise. I hope it goes well for you." She paused, grinned. "And, if you ever need me, I'll be here. Or there." She winked.

Despite herself, Sunset laughed. I'll keep that in mind.

Trixie's footsteps faded into the distance. Sunset kept her hand on the statue, eyes locked on the mirror surface. Her heart battered against her ribs, and Sunset pushed the oncoming panic attack deep, deep down below.

Sunset whispered, taking in her last smell of Earth,

"It's now or never"

Sunset stepped through to a tall room, surrounded by blue and purple crystal walls. She recognized it well, though had only seen it a hooful of times.

Two voices exclaimed in unison. "Sunset!"

"Hey guys." Twilight and Starlight got up from their seets to greet her. Embarrassed, Sunset scratched the back of her head. "Jeez, did I make you guys wait that long?"

Starlight wavered a hoof in the universal gesture of 'so-so'.

"It wasn't that bad," Twilight said. "We were thinking of going through the portal ourselves before too long though."

She was glad they hadn't.

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Twilight. You were totally freaking out." She grinned at Sunset. "She was like, 'Oh no, what if Sunset got hit by a car on her motorcycle?' or 'Oh Starlight, what if somepony mugged her!'"

"I was not!"

"Totally were."

"Well," Sunset interrupted. "I'm here now. Sorry about any worry I might've caused. Something held me up before I could go into the portal."

"Oh?" Twilight inclined her head.

"Nothing much, just saying goodbye to a friend."

Starlight smirked. "Attended their funeral, I take it?"

"Oh yeah, casket and everything."

Twilight ignored the black humor, pushing on. "Who was it? You told me in the journal you'd already said goodbye to everyone."

"I did, but she wanted to see me in person before I left."

"Which one?"

"Trixie."

"Oh hey." Starlight snickered. What she said next gave Sunset the impression of walking in on a far longer conversation. "Looks like another one of your students made friends with a Trixie. Wonder what that says about you, huh?" She jabbed Twilight in the wing. Twilight - gently - smacked her away.

Sunset frowned. "I'm not anypony's student. Not for a long time."

"Right, right. You're one of her projects then."

"What, like you?" Sunset blew an equine snort, stamping her hoof. Fuck, it felt good to be pony again. "She gave me a second chance, that's it. I handled the rest myself."

"Uh huh, totally. You acting so defensive is doing your argument so many favors."

Her expression soured.

Twilight stepped in, waving her wings. "Hold it, girls. Let's not start things off on the wrong hoof." She turned to Starlight. "Starlight, you're clearly bothering her. Don't press the issue."

Starlight shrugged. "I didn't think I was being that serious.

"Doesn't matter. Mind your boundaries." To Sunset she said, "Don't worry about her. She's a work in progress." She narrowed at Starlight again. "And gets some real bad habits from her version of Trixie, too."

Starlight gestured dismissively.

Sunset, hackles calmed, noticed her horn tingling. She looked up and to the right. "Oh huh. I wasn't sure if that would work."

"If what would work?" they asked, in unison.

Sunset twirled the jacket around, putting it on as she spoke. "So, I've been wondering how the portal handles clothes for a while. Usually, whatever you're wearing when you come through to Equestria disappears - except my Twilight's glasses for some reason. I wanted to take my jacket with me, so I decided to see if holding it separately, instead of wearing it, would bring it through."

Smirking, she puffed out her chest and tugged the lapel. "And voila. It worked."

Starlight smiled. "I think it looks great. In fact-"

Before Sunset or Twilight could ask what she was doing, Starlight hopped through the portal. Staring, blinking at each other in stunned confusion, they watched the portal ripple, then fall still.

"What in Celestia's name is she doing?"

"Beats me. She's your student."

They didn't have to wait long for their answer. Starlight stepped through, holding a shirt, jacket, beanie, and watch in her magic. She glowed at the two, then put it all on piece by piece.

Sunset offered a hoofbump. Starlight accepted with a resounding clop.

"Lookin' fine there, but-" Sunset paused. She had to take her jacket off to pull it through. Starlight came back with her own jacket and a hoodie. Which meant... "Y'know what, never mind," she muttered, blushing.

Twilight's eye twitched. "I hope to Sun this doesn't cause any arcane backlash. Now, if we can move onto the important things-"

"Twilight Twilight Twilight." Starlight clucked her tongue, scolding. "What could possibly be more important than looking your best? Imagine what Rarity would say."

Sunset grinned. "Preach, sister."

Twilight facehoofed. "You two are unbearable." Despite the words, Sunset heard the smile.

"Well, that's bad girls for ya." She nodded more sober at Twilight. "Important matters, though. You were saying?"

"Right! There's so much for you to do while you're here. I'll get to show you around the town, have you meet all my friends - I've told them a lot about you, by the way. Oh oh oh! There's this one amazing hay burger joint just a quick trot from the castle and if we go there for breakfast now you get an egg on the burger for free and-"

"Twilight."

Twilight flushed. "Sorry, I get excited sometimes."

"What she means to say is she Twilights."

Sunset smiled, bowling past Starlight's comment. "You're fine. That's not really the issue, though. As much as I'd love to do all those things, I can't. I wanted to get here early in the morning for a reason. I need to go to Canterlot."

"Canterlot? Why? Is something wrong?"

Sunset frowned. She already shared her secret with one person. If Twilight sniffed out the faintest whiff of a friendship problem, she'd get her feathers all up inside it.

"Not exactly, but it's personal. I don't want to say anything more than that."

Twilight nodded, disappointment clear on her face. Sunset didn't know if that was because her plans had been shot, or she was mourning the loss of a mystery.

"There are two best ways of getting to Canterlot. Which one you prefer depends on what you're looking for. The first and fastest is by pegasus-drawn chariot, but we'd have to wait here while I send the missive, wait for a reply, and then for the chariot to arrive. The train will take more time, but we can get going now, and it's far more comfortable. It's also the more scenic route. The view from the chariot isn't bad either, but that depends on how cloudy the day ends up and I haven't checked the paper for weather scheduling."

Weather scheduling. Sunset forgot all about that. Humans had tried - and in some cases succeeded, not always for the best - to manipulate their climate. 'Geo-engineering,' they called it.

Over here, ponies just called that 'weather'.

"Train sounds good. I'd like to get moving as soon as we can."

"Great! Since you're heading to Canterlot, will you be needing bits for anything?"

"I was hoping Celestia'd have a place in the castle open. Beyond that I didn't intend on spending much, but money would help, yeah."

Twilight nodded, teleporting a string-drawn sack between them. She passed it to Sunset, who took it in her magic. She tried to open it, but no matter how hard she pulled it wouldn't budge.

"It's a bag of holding. It's also specially locked so only certain magical signatures can access it. Here, let me get your matrix encoded..." Twilight concentrated, furrowing her brows and chewing her lip. "There! Try opening it now?"

Sunset did, then closed it again. "How much?"

"Five hundred bits."

Sunset's eyes widened, before she remembered the conversion rate. In Equestria, one bit was equivalent to fifty cents on Earth. Suffice it to say, gold was... a lot more common in Equestria.

Twilight continued. "That should be everything, then. I suggest we get a move on before the train arrives."

Sunset nodded, before Starlight bumped their flanks together. "Mind if I come with?"

"Buck it, why not. Us bad girls gotta stick together, right?"

The walk to Canterlot's train station took little time. Accustomed to Canterlot City's urban sprawl, she might as well have gone out for groceries.

This early in the morning, they were just about the only ponies around. They took up one of the many empty benches, and Sunset was content to loaf, curling her forelegs under her barrel. Starlight sat on her haunches, and Twilight paced around, glancing east every half minute.

"I can't get over how small this town is."

"Yeah," Twilight agreed. "When Celestia sent me, I couldn't understand why in Sun's name she'd send me to this little nowhere village. I love it now. It's so nice being able to get up, walk from one end to the other safely, buy all local and know every single face I see, even if I don't know them personally. You'd think I'd be a city mare, but, well." She shrugged.

"I getcha. Wondering what the dimensions are though. How long was that walk, like thirty minutes?"

Starlight tapped her watch. "Twenty. So less than a mile."

Sunset prepared to correct her, letting her know that, in fact, a twenty minute walk was a mile. Then she remembered they had four legs instead of two.

"Yeah, Canterlot City's like... eight by nine. Miles, I mean. It takes me twenty-five minutes just getting to my favorite cafe."

Twilight squeed. "You like coffee?"

"No."

Her wings drooped.

"Sorry to disappoint. I'm a tea mare, myself."

"Is there any coffee you like?"

"Sure, but only if it's got cream and sugar."

"Hot or cold?" asked Starlight. "The tea."

"Cold, definitely cold. But I'll tell you what, a mug of steaming green tea with honey first thing in the morning is... mmmm."

Both nodded in agreement.

The distant roar of a train broke the banter.

Sunset cursed. "I don't have any ID."

Twilight quirked her head. "ID? Why would you need an ID to get on a train?"

"Oh. Heh heh... Maybe I've spent a little too much time on Earth. You need an ID for basically everything there."

As the train pulled in, the conductor's voice rang out. "All boarding for Canterlot, all boarding for Canterlot!"

"Convenient," Sunset noted.

Twilight shook her head. "Not convenient, just scheduled. The Ponyville Express doesn't go to many places besides Canterlot. Now let's get moving."

She gestured with her wing. Sunset followed behind with Starlight, and they quickly found themselves situated in the train, by the window.

Sunset marveled at the cleanliness. No stank of old beer, no screaming babies, no people with distant faces packed in like sardines. She didn't spot a single drifter or suspicious stain on the seats.

She stopped herself getting too attached. Equestria ran by different rules, other standards, had a totally separate history. Ponies were generally less violent for one - though not by much - and this was a tiny town. It would be different where she was headed, at least in the parts she'd grown up.

She fought the urge to fall asleep on the seats. They had no right to be anywhere half as comfortable. Cloud magic, she imagined. Had to be.

Then, there was the train's exterior. She only partly registered the appearance as it pulled in, but reflected on it now. It looked like something from a storybook. The best comparison she could make was a gingerbread house - mid-brown walls, pink roof, swirling white patterns and trim that resembled frosting decorations.

It was... cute. She liked it.

Belatedly, she realized how much she missed this - Equestrian culture. On Earth, other than in her friend group, they had no magic, no fantasy. Those were relegated to the books they read, the art they made. Here, all that and more sprang to life, walking and talking like anyone else.

Earth had its charms, no doubt. A unique perspective for one, dazzling technology for two, that would strike the average pony as something far more magical. You got used to it quick though, or that had been her experience. But maybe her perspective wasn't the best frame of reference, considering her initial circumstances.

She wondered, would things be more similar in other, more serious locations? Cities like Manehattan, Vanhoover, Fillydelphia?

She was surprised she still remembered the names. It had been so long.

Starlight looked past her to where she had her attention. "Didn't think Ponyville was that interesting."

"Huh?"

She glanced away from the window. "Just thinking's all. Weird to think I'm gonna be in Equestria for a whole month." Going silent, she returned her view to the town, with its bright thatch roofs and pastel roads, the vast green hills to the north."

"What's the longest you were here before?"

"Not long." Sunset thought about it. As she did, as Celestia's Sun moved left from the Mountain, she saw something that caught her attention. Something she hadn't seen in years.

A pegasus, flying through the sky. She had a gray coat and blonde mane. She wore a brown cap and brimming saddlebag on her left, stamped with the Royal Delivery seal. Sunset swore she remembered a similar girl from school.

Shaking her head, Sunset answered. "A day, I think. Not even. That was when this girl - good friend of mine now - Wallflower, tried erasing everyone's good memories of me. I came to Equestria because Twilight wasn't affected, and we looked in the Canterlot Archives to figure out what was causing it."

"She erased your memories? And you two are friends now?" Starlight sounded incredulous.

"Yeah. She was... obviously misguided, to say the very least, but I can't blame her. As far as she was concerned I was still the same awful bully I'd been less than a year before. The year I turned into a literal, actual demon and thought I could dominate Equestria with a bunch of brainwashed teens. Tch." She barked half a laugh. "Celestia would have turned me into ash the second I entered."

The train lurched. She swayed as it chugged into gear, the outside view slogging westwards.

Sunset saw Twilight frown in the window's reflection. "I don't think she would have done that," she said. "She cared about you. Cares, I should say. She would probably have found some way to stop you without any harm and freed you like we did with Luna."

"Yeah. Probably right."

Twilight laid a wing on Sunset's back. Her shoulders tensed. "Is everything okay, Sunset?"

"Yeah," Sunset bit. Then, softer. "Just nervous."

Twilight nodded, retracting her wing. She pointed at the window. "At least you've got a good distraction."

The train gained steam, the world outside moving faster. Sunset watched, enchanted. It wasn't exactly the most unique landscape she'd seen. She could find similar verdant hills, wheat and barley fields, distant pine trees and forests just outside her city. Applejack's home and Camp Everfree attested to that.

But this wasn't her city. This was the place she'd been born. The place she'd been raised.

The place she'd left behind.

The larger the mountain ahead, the less green there was. Fields and pastures increasingly gave way to barren, rocky outcroppings, grass grown thinner and sparser. Higher up, some berries and mint-colored bushes clung to life, stones becoming larger, taller, and capped by thin snowdrifts.

She passed the time with conversation.

"And would you believe it, the nerve of this chick? Like, buckin' Tartarus. One spilled drink, and she goes full Equestrian magic demon on the whole soundstage."

"Sounds to me," Twilight drawled. "Like you deal with a lot more threats than you give yourself credit for."

Sunset jerked her shoulders. "I guess. Our threats are more local, though. You fought a giant centaur who ate magic and shot giant lasers. We've never had to face anything like that."

Starlight raised her hoof. "Don't forget me! I technically ended the world like nine or ten times."

"You sound strangely proud of that fact."

"You wouldn't? I'm the first mare in history who ever screwed spacetime that bad."

"Fair."

Twilight rubbed her chin. "I'm not a betting mare, but if I was - and wasn't an alicorn - I think you could make a good argument this cabin is home to the three most powerful unicorns alive."

They laughed.

"Doubt it though," Sunset dismissed. "Haven't done real magic in a while. Teleportation and manipulation is one thing. Invocation's another."

Her mind turned towards the Geodes. Hers was special, arguably the most unique of the seven. It let her see into someone's memories, feel what they felt, experience what they experienced. It allowed her to connect and find solutions no one else could.

She wished she'd gotten different. She didn't like being jealous of her friends, but whenever she saw her Twilight doing magic like her, and in the human world? She couldn't stop herself.

"Just practice," Starlight said. "You might be a little rusty, so what? You were Celestia's student before Twilight, I'm sure you've still got all that in you somewhere."

"She's right. Those instincts never really go away. I bet you'd be back to where you were before by the end of the month."

"Maybe," Sunset replied. Looking at them - Twilight most of all - she kept the envy from her face. "But the last spell I slung was five years ago. You two never stopped learning."

Twilight opened her mouth to speak. Sunset interrupted. "And, for that matter, I'm not sure what the point would even be. I'm planning on being here for a month, that's it. Then I'm going back. This might be my original home, but I have more friends and ties back there." She jerked her head behind her.

Starlight put a hoof on her heart. "Sunset, you wound me."

"I said more friends, not friends period." She stuck out her tongue.

The intercom boomed as they pulled in. "Now arriving, Canterlot South Station. Now arriving, Canterlot South Station. Next stop, the Crystal Empire."

They clambered down from the seats. Stepping out the mountain breeze hit them, and Starlight shivered. Sunset and Twilight beamed, basking in the faint chill.

"Ah," Sunset sighed. "Good old Mount Canter air."

"No kidding!" Twilight laughed. "You're lucky you won't have to go through Ponyville summer like me."

"You'd be surprised how hot it gets in my city."

Starlight's teeth chattered. "You two are nuts. Thank Sun the palace has air conditioning."

Sunset cocked her head. "Air conditioning? You guys have AC now?"

"Yeah, you know - air conditioning spells? To moderate the temperature, hot or cold."

Sunset's ear flicked. "Right. I forgot."

They began to walk. Sunset fell silent, allowing her tagalongs to chat as they went. She preferred to take in the sights, reminisce.

Despite being one of four, Canterlot's 'side' station dwarfed Ponyville's central. Many trains came and went, throngs of colorful bodies flittered around, getting off and on the trains that pulled up. Non-ponies mingled with the rest, a fact that surprised her slightly. Where she'd grown up, ponies had always been more multi-cultural than the rest. Now, that grace seemed to have spread.

Up ahead, the skyline pierced the clouds. Even besides being built on Equestria's second largest mountain range, Canterlot was a unique city.

According to history class, it began as a rich trading settlement. Unicorns and other ponies of power moved their fortunes up into the mountain, where they could protect their hoards from the common masses below. The symbolism of the location was obvious. It provided those of means and influence a throne to look down upon the rest of society, the ones they saw as 'lesser'. Things had changed since then, somewhat.

After the destruction of Equestria's first capital, now claimed by the Everfree Forest, Princess Celestia relocated her ponies to the town. Those already present kicked up quite the fuss at the influx of commoners, but in those days Celestia's rule was absolute. For every noble that left, three more from other cities would take their place, and Celestia ensured as best she could that original ideology didn't creep into the system. The first royal Canterlot castle's construction marked the first year of Unification.

From there, with little space to spread out, the city grew upwards. Generations passed, and Canterlot divided itself into four distinct tiers.

The first and lowest was Old Canterlot, where the original settlement was founded. Where coin-clinking merchants, finely dressed noblemares, and influential bankers once rubbed flanks, the poorest and downtrodden of Equestria gathered. The streets were narrow, everything built from rough, worn stone and bricks. It was also where the thestrals called home, looked down upon or shunned by others. Any in that area who had wealth remained more for reasons of legacy, or because they no longer had any power and influence.

The tier above developed into a place for the middle class. It was the largest of the tiers. Not the most populous - that distinction belonged to Old Canter, but they had more space to roam and build. Most businesses, restaurants, and shops could be found there.

The third had been claimed by the upper crust. Here, many ancestors of the original settlers, or those younger upstarts who found themselves swimming in wealth lived. Whatever space wasn't taken up by massive mansions and vacation homes was occupied by gardens, museums, and galleries. They said the streets were paved with jewels, but in reality, they were simply colorful stones, as Sunset had once seen.

Last and smallest was the Royal tier, exclusively constructed for Princess Celestia and those who surrounded her. It was also the location of the Equestrian military and the Royal Guard's barracks.

Sunset grew up in the first tier. When she was younger, she thought she'd die in the first tier.

Today, of the four tier's, she'd only visit the last. Twilight guided her and Starlight through the city, taking shortcuts and vast white marble staircases winding and curling up higher and higher. Soon, the spiraling towers of ivory, gold, and lavender stones were beneath them, stabbing up like shiny needles.

They stopped at a mote. Twilight nodded at the guards, who uncrossed their spears and let the bridge down. Walking across, the portcullis raised and let them through.

Sunset nudged Twilight's wither. "So, they let you through on sight, huh?"

"They didn't for you?"

"Nope."

"Hm. Well, to be fair." Twilight beat her wings once. "I'm an alicorn Princess now. Kinda hard to miss."

'Don't remind me,' Sunset thought.

Once through, they entered the main palace grounds. Looking at them haunted her. While she'd gone through far darker periods of her life, the years she spent here weren't bright. Dull, drudging, lonely. At least towards the end.

Before she could dwell on it, they entered the castle proper. These settings were familiar too - the plush, stretching carpets, the towering marble walls and floors polished to near-reflection. Stained glass paintings of Twilight's friends and their achievements, less so. She tried not to be bitter.

Twilight led them to a small wooden door. They entered into a room packed from end to end with multi-tiered stands. Day Court, Sunset knew from textbook photos, and from one lesson Celestia had - tried - to teach her in pony.

Their timing was impeccable. Politicians, nobles, and businessponies left through one main entrance. Journalists, press, and interested civilians trickled out the other.

Celestia laid her gavel on the sound block, nodding to a mare beside her with white fur, black glasses, and a chocolate bun. Sunset knew her from fillyhood. She looked older now.

Twilight cleared her throat. "Princess Celestia?"

The alicorn's gentle gaze flicked their way. She and Raven stopped their conversation. She met Twilight's eyes first, then startled, noticing Sunset.

"What a lovely surprise." She smiled fondly, before turning back to Raven. "Be a dear and take those notes to my chamber. I'd like to read them for myself."

"Naturally, Your Grace." Raven bowed, gathered a file from somewhere beneath the podium, and left through the back.

Glowing, Celestia stepped down from her perch. They walked as a group towards her as she approached.

Sunset craned her neck to meet Celestia's gaze. She could never shake the majesty of the Princess, even after all this time. "Hello, my little ponies." She fanned her dove-like wings, and pulled her and Twilight into a short embrace.

"Hey, what about me?"

Celestia released, turned to Starlight, and bowed. "Of course, my apologies, but you must understand. These fine mares are my former students and thus, they have a special place in my heart." Celestia glanced down, holding Sunset's gaze. "Her in particular I so rarely get to see."

Starlight snickered, holding back a greater laugh. "I'm just teasing, Princess, you have nothing to explain."

Celestia nodded, before her attention weighed fully on Sunset. "My dear Sunset Shimmer. How long has it been?"

Sunset rubbed her fetlock, cheeks burning. "Bit under a year, I think?" She gulped down the sudden lump in her throat. "Thank you, Celestia."

"What ever for?"

The lump returned. "For attending my graduation. I... can't tell you how much that meant to me." She nodded her horn at Twilight. "You too." Back to Celestia. "I'm sorry we haven't talked much."

Twilight smiled. Celestia shook her head.

"Do not feel any obligation of gratitude, or apology. It's the least I could do."

Sunset inhaled. "Right. I've decided to return home for a little while, at least until the end of this month. I hope it's not too much to ask, but I was curious if you might have a place I can stay in the meantime."

"You lived here once, and you may do so again. Is there a particular reason that has drawn you home, might I ask? You have never returned for such an extensive length of time."

"There is," She said in the way that also said, "But not one I'm going to share."

Celestia nodded. Her eyes shone with comprehension. She knew. Or Sunset thought she knew.

"If that is what you deem best."

"It is."

Starlight and Twilight exchanged looks.

"Well then." Celestia's chin rose. "It will not be long before my sister raises her Moon, and you three are my guestss. Would you like to accompany me for dinner?"

Besides a light meal prepared on the train, they hadn't eaten a bite. Their stomachs growled in unison.

Celestia laughed. "I see. Follow me, then."

After a five minute walk, they found themselves in a - no, the - dining hall. Celestia had a smaller one further to the West wing, much smaller and better suited to close company. During her days as protege, she and Celestia would often eat together in that room. Sunset brooding, Celestia doing her damndest to peel away the barbed layers.

Here, the walls rose higher than the ones in Court, enough vertical room there could have been three separate floors. The room was dimly lit, bathed in a soft yellow from light crystal chandeliers high above. The walls themselves, usually plain marble, had been painted a rich orange-yellow that made Sunset think of pumpkin soup or curry.

She was hungry. Sue her.

"I hope you don't mind my choosing the banquet hall." Celestia eyed her and Twilight. "Luna attempted cooking fish recently, and the staff are still working to clean out the smell."

Starlight snickered. Sunset waved her off, and Twilight offered a simple, "Not at all, Princess."

They took their seats at the top. Celestia looked between them. "Seeing as you are guests, would you like to place any particular order?"

Twilight licked her chops. "A daisy sandwich sounds nice."

It was a simple dish. Exceedingly simple. Both her and Starlight shot Twilight a raised eyebrow and expression that asked 'Really?' without really asking.

From experience, Sunset knew the palace chefs didn't really do 'simple'. But they would try, if forced.

With no additional orders placed, Celestia called in the chefs. They clamored in like a parade, dressed in white shirts and black buttons. Servers joined them with ice cold, citrus-infused water, cutlery, and napkins, bowing before waiting at the kitchen doorway.

Celestia told the team to make whatever they wished, as well as Twilight's order. Their collective expression said everything about their thoughts on the matter, but orders were orders - literally. They bowed too, and departed. Vaguely, Sunset missed having ponies around she could ask to make whatever she wanted.

While they waited, they conversed. Celestia asked after her in particular - how she was doing, what Earth was like, what plans she had. She explained in basic detail, leaving out the more complicated aspects. Her patience stretched thin at the probing.

At the retelling of their graduation party and drunk shenanigans, Starlight and Twilight leaned in especially close. Unsurprising, given they only witnessed the very tail end of that experience. All three seemed fascinated about Twilight's alternate self, but only Starlight had the balls to ask about her directly.

The chat continued. Sunset described her job as a sushi waitress and some of the stories about her time, such as when one of the sirens popped in for a visit by total accident. Partway through a different retelling, the starters arrived. Celestia nodded, and they chowed down without a second thought.

Dish after dish, plate after plate, bowl after bowl whizzed on by. They ate mushrooms, vegetables, fruit, sauces, legumes, rices. Buttered, battered, roasted, stewed. Spiced and peppered, salted and sweetened. Her head spun, and her belly grew.

It was a feast. Sunset couldn't remember the last time she ate like this. She also remembered a time she used to eat like it every day.

They came in starving. By the time they finished, they were stuffed. Sunset would have let her belt loose if she had one. She felt like royalty, fitting given the circumstance.

Celestia stood, calling the servers to clean the table. Sunset, Twilight, and Starlight pushed up from their chairs.

"I believe it is time you be shown to your room. I hope you find the accommodations satisfactory."

Sunset laughed. "Princess, I've been sleeping on a mattress for years. Pretty sure a palace bedroom is gonna be fine."

Celestia nodded, saying nothing. Her face gained an inexplicable look Sunset couldn't read. A mask, she realized. Concealing... something. She didn't know what.

Nothing wrong with it. She did that often enough herself.

They gathered behind Celestia. Through twisting corridors they followed her steps, lit by the crimson-gold of early evening. If Sunset hadn't familiarized herself with the grounds way back when, she'd have taken weeks to wrap her head around it.

Turning a corner, up a staircase, they entered a part of the castle Sunset had never seen. Marble gave way to wood and plaster, the floor flush with rich forest green carpet, designed with intricate golden patterns. The magic sconces and numbered doors, combined with the lack of windows and presence of paintings reminded her of a luxury hotel.

"What is this place?" she asked, glancing around. "Don't think I've ever been to this part before."

Celestia addressed her without looking back. That is not surprising. These are the rooms built to house my palace staff. I can't imagine you would have been here before."

They took the elevator up multiple flights, passing nine floors up to the tenth. Celestia ducked her head the whole trip to avoid catching her horn. The rest of them pressed to the wall opposite Celestia.

"Bit small, isn't it?" Starlight joked.

Celestia chuckled. "Indeed. This section was built to feel homely and accommodate ponies of normal stature. It is less alienating this way."

The bell rang, and doors slid open. Skylight windows allowed the growing Moonlight to pour through, the warmth of sunset fading to dusk. They took two left turns, and came to the end of a wide hall. A large balcony sat behind a thick glass door, showing the lights of the city as they flicked on, one by one like fireflies.

"Here we are," Celestia said, nodding to the door on their right. Sunset was too busy paying attention to the view.

She loved seeing city lights. But back on Earth, the way they lit their nights polluted the air and obscured the stars. In Equestria they used fire magic or old fashioned oil lanterns, allowing the real beauty of nighttime to reveal itself.

Celestia spoke up. "Sunset?"

"Mh?"

"Is everything alright?"

She mumbled through her nod, turning to the group. "Yeah. It's been a while since I saw the stars."

"I see. My sister does wonderful work, doesn't she?"

Sunset nodded, and tipped her horn towards the tall double doors of her room.

"These shall be your quarters for as long as you wish. Should you require anything or would like another room, Raven Inkwell will be in the chamber across from yours." She chuckled. "Though, she's just as likely to fall asleep in her office." She looked at Sunset. "You remember Raven, do you not?"

Sunset nodded. "How could I forget. She was the one who made me turn in my essays on time. How old is she now?"

The answer she received curdled her guts.

"Thirty-five." Celestia opened the doors, revealing her room. "Please, see if it is up to your standards."

Sunset got one glimpse of the massive chamber and beds, and shook her head violently. "No, I... can't. Too big."

"Understandable." Celestia moved them to the next room down. Only one door this time. Celestia allowed her to look inside.

Paintings, flowers, and spell-powered lanterns hung from the walls. Two double-sized beds rest against the right wall, a wardrobe opposite, and a tall shelf stacked with books beside the closest bed to the window balcony. The bathroom led off to the right, near the other bed.

Between the beds they shared a squat dresser. A double lantern, already switched on, rested atop it. Spotting a bell by the side, she pointed it out to Celestia.

"That is for contacting the nearest available servant. You'll be able to communicate with them through a telephonic link and request whatever you need."

A phone then, essentially.

"I'm not sure what to say. This is so much. Thank you, Princess."

It put in perspective how low she'd fallen. She lived here once - not this specific room, but this whole palace. The most she had to herself now was a crumby apartment with stale must and a dumpster outside her window. Plus the two yowling cats she wanted to strangle.

"Think nothing of it. You were my student once, and you will be treated as such. However-" She yawned. "I have a few last things which demand attending to before I can sleep. Before I leave, do you require anything else?"

Sunset shook her head. "Couldn't think of something if I tried."

Twilight piped up. "I should be going, too. There's a meeting scheduled tomorrow about the reconstruction of Golden Oaks, and I'll be organizing the team."

Sunset smiled. "I wish you luck."

"Starlight?" Twilight asked. "Will you be coming with me?"

Starlight considered. "I dunno..." She turned to Sunset. "Living by yourself for a month sounds pretty lonely. Mind if I stay?"

"Trust me, I've lived on my own for a lot longer, and in far worse conditions. But, sure. Company can't hurt."

Starlight nodded to her, then Twilight. A part of Sunset wanted to say no. She liked Starlight, but their 'spat' earlier that morning put a bitter taste in her mouth, and reminded her of someone she tried hard to forget. So...

Why did she say yes?

Starlight smiled, Twilight nodded, and Celestia seemed unbothered by the development. Too late for Sunset to switch gears. If she tried now there'd be questions, ones she couldn't quite answer herself.

They said their goodbyes. Twilight pulled her into a hug, waved to Starlight, and left with Celestia. The door clicked behind them.

"So," Starlight drawled. "Any fun plans for the night?"

"Nope." Sunset made for the bookshelf, pulling out every title and examining each. She selected a non-fiction book, 'Equestria at War: History of the North March'. "I'm going to read for a bit and go to bed. Looking for something in the morning."

"Looking for what?"

"Something," she said, flipping through the pages.

"Something."

Sunset closed the book. Her neutral expression twitched on the edge. "Yeah. 'Something'. As in, something I'd like to keep private."

"Come oooon, Sunset. We're friends here, you can tell me!"

"I can."

Starlight leaned in.

"That doesn't mean I'm going to."

Sunset weaved around the bed, pulling the covers aside. She checked the grandfather clock next to the wardrobe. It read nine thirty. She could read for about an hour.

"Why not? You're being real evasive here." Starlight grinned, slitting her eyes. "I bet it's juicy."

"It's none of your business!" Sunset exploded. In the throe of it she tossed the book on the floor, flaring jets through her nostrils. "I'm tired of everyone trying to get inside my head lately. It's pissing me off, and if you're going to be like this the whole time I'm here than I'd like you to get out."

Silence.

The distant down sounds of nightlife drifted up from the city. A slow mountain wind moved the curtains. Her heartbeat and the blood in her ears tuned it all out.

"I'm sorry," Sunset said, not fully meaning it. She picked the book off the floor with a mild flush of embarrassment. "But lately, I've been going through some shit, and nobody is letting me be. You didn't know that, though. So I'm sorry."

Pointedly, she didn't look back. Starlight spoke anyway, in a soft voice but not a hurt one. "No, I get it. Everyone's got their limits."

Sunset replied with delay. "...Yeah."

She climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, and cracked her book open. Feeling calmer, and a bit apologetic, she decided she might as well spill a little tea as compensation. "Since you want to know, I'll keep it vague. I'm here to fix some things I've broken. And, tomorrow..."

She breathed in. Was she really going to say it?

Yes. Yes she was.

"I want to start with an old friend."

Chapter 4: Seasons Change

Sunset stared ahead blankly. Misses Bubbling Brew wrote on the blackboard, going over formulae for basic transmutation. She knew them already.

Folding her front hooves, she rested her chin. She didn't get the point of review day.

They had their first test of the year tomorrow, and Misses Brew said it was 'important that everypony get a refresher'. Why? If it was so important they should have learned it themselves. Let the ponies who couldn't remember fail. It was their fault if they did if they didn't study, or weren't smart like her. She didn't even need to take notes.

Eventually, her eyes glazed over. She stopped listening, and cracked open her other, secret, pocket-sized sketchbook.

Every page had a doodle. Some half-finished. Some were small, with dozens to a page. Others took up the whole paper. She drew them in pencil or pen, but never marker or they'd bleed through.

She chewed on her eraser, thinking about what she wanted to draw. This was always the hard part. Sometimes her brain knew, but most times she couldn't think of anything. Nothing came to her so she decided to practice eyes.

"Excuse me. What do you have there?"

She jolted, closing the notepad. "N-nothing."

Misses Brew hovered over her. Her brows and lips pinched into a nasty frown.

"Open that notebook, please."

The please was fake. She wasn't asking. Sunset shook her head, clutching the book to her chest.

"Open it now, or I'll have the Principal take a look."

Sunset swallowed, and reluctantly obeyed. She didn't want to get in trouble again. Principal Primrose found out the truth about her and Tinsel and let her off the hook with a slap on the fet, but she couldn't risk it.

She opened to a blank page at the back. Misses Brew glared.

"Not that one. Show me the others."

She showed her more blank pages. Misses Brew snatched the book from her hooves. Sunset whined and reached out, but Misses Brew didn't reply. She went through each page herself, before showing her two filled in pages.

Misses Brew narrowed her lime green eyes. "Pray tell, would you be a dear and politely inform me as to what all this-" She gestured. "Mess is about?"

"My drawings, Misses Brew."

"I see. She slammed the book shut and didn't return it. "Is my class a joke to you, or do you think I'm teaching Art here?"

Sunset's head bowed. She kept her anger inside, but it bucked to get out. "Neither, Misses Brew."

Misses Brew scoffed. "You may not believe it, but there are ponies in this room whose name isn't Sunset Shimmer. Drawing during classtime is inappropriate and, worse, a distraction. I do not tolerate distractions under my watch."

She couldn't hold back. Rising up, her nostrils flared. "I wasn't doing anything. Drawing doesn't distract anyone or me and I already know this stuff anyway!"

"Tell you what," Misses Brew sang. She smirked at Sunset in a way that made her tummy ache. "If you think you're so prepared, why don't you come to the front and show the class how it's done. If you do that, you can have this-" She waved the book around. "Back. Does that sound fair?"

Sunset stood up and marched to the front, head held high. Waiting for instructions, she felt her classmates watching her. She brushed them aside.

Have to get the sketchbook back. Have to prove her wrong.

Misses Brew took down a wide array of bottles, tubes, beakers, and reagents from the shelves. Spreading them over a workbench, she pointed them out to Sunset.

"I was just going over the formula for a potion of simple invisibility. Since you already know so much, I presume you know how to mix one yourself."

Sunset hated her stupid face. She was so smug. Sunset couldn't wait to wipe it off. She could do this.

Because she was Sunset. Because she was smart.

Because she was better.

Staying quiet, she nodded and walked to the table. She looked over the materials and gulped. Invisibility was the hardest potion they'd learned so far. Misses Brew wanted her to fail.

If she thought that would stop her, she was wrong. Sunset loved a challenge.

One by one, she set up her station. Arcane Burner, mortar, pestle, three vials.

Next, she picked out the reagents. There were twenty on the table, but she only needed three. Or was it four?

It had to be four. She picked out Blinkroot, Breathberries, dried Wraithpeppers, and fresh, preserved Peepshrooms.

She had to cook the berries first, then push them through a sive. Then she minced the Wraithpepper, separated the mushroom stalks, degilled the caps, and roasted the Blinkroot. Once it was ready she threw it all into her mortar, and pounded with the pestle until it made a chunky blue paste.

Scraping it into a flask, she went over to the sink and poured half an inch of water inside. It fizzed, and she used her magic and a spoon to stir it up. Once the paste and water mixed she stopped, waiting as it belched in her face.

She scrunched her nose. It smelled icky, like that one time she forgot the apple in her saddlepack for a month. She had to get a new bag after that.

She watched it burble, each shiny bubble pop. She kept worrying it wouldn't quit and she'd done it wrong. Did she put in too many Breathberries? Or was she supposed to dry the Peepshrooms and rehydrate the Wraithpepper?

Her heart beat again when the reaction stopped. It took a second, but the dark blue liquid turned a bright, transparent cyan. To make sure, she leaned in and gave it a sniff.

It smelled like nothing.

Slowly, Misses Brew clapped.

Sunset puffed out her chest, grinning. She'd done it. She won.

"Impressive," said Misses Brew. She came to stand by Sunset and observed her work. "But it would have been more impressive if you'd made the correct potion."

Sunset's stomach dropped. "Wha- huh? But I did everything right!"

"Not quite." Beaming, the mare plucked a sprig of mint from the other reagents and dropped it into the flask. It smoked for a few seconds, then dissolved and turned the cyan turquoise. "I asked you to make me a simple potion of invisibility. You made a basic one. Now-" Her smile died. "Sit your flank down or I'll lock that notebook up for a week."

Something in Sunset boiled. It felt warm, almost hot, making her head big and chest tight.

She wasn't sure she liked it, but part of her did. It made her want to run and scream and fight and punch. Like the potion it bubbled, higher and higher, until she couldn't hold herself back no matter how hard she tried.

She snatched the potion back, and threw it in Misses Brew's face.

'I hate school,' she thought.

'I hate school. And I hate schoolwork. And I hate them.'

'Them' being her teachers. She really, really hated her teachers.

She hated detention too. It was even more boring than Misses Brew's boring lectures! Almost enough to make her regret what she did.

Except she didn't, not really. She got to see Misses Brew's face go invisible and yell. The whole class laughed. Thinking about that made detention a little better.

She wasn't getting her notebook back, though. It made her wanna cry. She'd been using that since summer and had a lot of great drawings in there.

It wasn't fair. None of it! She got the whole potion formula right except for one thing. That would be like getting an F on a quiz because you got one answer wrong!

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Fuming, she squirmed in her seat. The clock kept ticking and tocking at her and it was gonna make her go crazy. She wanted to go home and be angry, and draw mean things about Misses Brew in the sketchbook on her desk. Like her as a witch turning Misses Brew into a frog! That'd be funny.

She needed revenge on somepony, but it couldn't be Misses Brew. She'd know it was her if she tried. She thought about making another potion of invisibility to steal her notebook back, but that had the same problem! Ugh.

She had to pick someone else. Someone who'd been a jerk, and someone who wouldn't know where to look.

She grinned. She knew the perfect target.

Take that Misses Ugly Ew. Detention backfired. All she had to do now was make the plan.

On her way home, she paid attention to the buildings around her. She never paid them any mind, but now they had a purpose.

She kept watch for any brewing, alchemy, potion shops. She turned away from the fancy ones, since she had no way to buy what they were selling. Swan would be nice and lend her bits, but not too many.

Trotting through the streets, she pulled out her schoolwork notebook and wrote the names, stopping as she went. Toil'n'Trouble, Reagents4U, The Churning Cauldron... That last one sounded like a restaurant.

The shops thinned out, and she focused on getting home. By now it was sunset. The medium and dark gray slate of the bricks made the pretty colors seem dull.

Looking up, cracked roofs and old alleys turned into marble and gold. Towering spires rose up high, high, higher than she could imagine, so high she could reach out and touch Cloudsdale.

Something in her chest ached. She frowned. That place wasn't meant for fillies like her.

Why did they get to have things so much better? Because they weren't born an orphan in stupid, ugly Old Canterlot?

She bet if she had her parents she'd be up there. She'd go to a school where they taught her magic 'cause they knew she was smart, and she'd have lots of fun friends. Her throat started to close, and she forced it open.

They left her down here. So it didn't matter.

When she got close to the Orphanage, her stomach did knots. Swan was waiting for her, and she wasn't smiling.

Swan's eyes locked on her. She didn't speak until Sunset reached the porch level. "Sunset Shimmer," she said, flat as a rock.

Sunset waited. She wanted Swan to say something else, but she didn't. Swallowing, she answered. "Yes, Matron Swan? What is it?"

Swan sighed. "I think you're fully aware of what 'it' is." She sat down, patting the spot on her right with a wing. "Sit, sweetness," she said, and Sunset obeyed. "I wish there was a way to get inside that little head of yours, to help me understand how this keeps happening. If you knew how hard I try to defend you from suspension..."

Sunset blushed. She looked down, fidgeting with her hooves and massaging the badness in her belly. It was too tight. "I didn't mean to get angry. Misses Brew took my sketchbook away and made fun of me for getting something wrong and I just threw the potion at her."

"Sunset Shimmer."

She pinned her ears back, squeaking. "I'm sorry."

"Regardless of how mean she was or was not being, that does not give you the right to yell and assault somepony. And make no mistake, assault is precisely what you did. You may not have meant to hurt her, but splashing a potion - any potion - on someone is the kind of offense that can lend a pony prison time. You're lucky all it did was turn her face invisible."

"But she-"

"no buts! This is final, Sunset. Shape up your act, for my sake if no one else's. Tonight, I want you to write your teacher an apology, and hoof-deliver it to her tomorrow. Do you understand."

"Yes, Matron Swan."

"Good, now let's head inside. You're very late."

"Wait!" Sunset stood up, holding out a hoof. Swan turned her head. "I need stuff for Alchemy class."

Swan furrowed. "Go on."

Sunset breathed in. First step, go. "Since I got the potion she made me do, Misses Brew says I have to make it again at home, but I don't have any of the stuff I need. Can we go buy some?"

"We can do it tomorrow." Swan opened the door, waiting. "I don't have the time tonight. Besides, dinner is getting cold, and I know you like your gumbo hot and spicy."

Sunset beamed. She hopped up the stairs, troubles forgotten. Her first step worked! And she got to eat gumbo tonight!

She went out that Saturday. Her list had six total shops, but it only took three to find everything she needed. So she had backups, she bought extra vials and ingredients, fibbing that Misses Brew wanted 'consistent proof' she could do the work. Swan bought it hook, line, and sinker.

Convincing her she needed the kitchen took extra effort. Swan said she could hurt herself. Sunset argued she had to make it somewhere with a magical outlet. They worked things out though. Swan just called a Matron in to look after her, which was fine. She couldn't hide that she was making potions.

By Monday, she made a small stash. By the end of the week, she had a whole sack of them!

She made those by sneaking into the kitchen at night and brewing while everypony else was asleep. Every single creak in the floorboards freaked her out. The storm that hit on Thursday was worse.

She might never need the backups, but she liked having them. It made her feel safe. Never knew if she'd want them in the future, plus she could sell them later if she didn't.

She took the next step of her plan, buying something from the prank shop for two bits she picked off an older taller colt in the street. She wanted to take more, but didn't wanna risk getting caught. What would she even do with a whole wallet, buy Manehattan or something?

She tested her potion on it, seeing how long it lasted. She also learned she didn't need another potion or tonic to wash it out, just regular soap and water. She kinda wondered what'd happen if she drank it, but she thought she heard something about 'never drinking potions that aren't safe for consumption' one time and didn't know if hers were safe or not.

She set the trap the day before Nightmare Night. The school put up pumpkins and bats and spooky decorations all over, and some of the teachers wore costumes for fun. Miss Globetrot said she'd throw them a pizza party and Principal Primrose said they could all come to class with their costumes on Nightmare's Eve since Nightmare Night was on Saturday this year. Sunset went as a witch!

If only she could turn Misses Brew into a frog...

She came in early to Math before Mister Cosine showed up. She took out the thing she used her potion on and put it down on the right seat. Mister Cosine assigned all of them the same seat so she didn't have to worry about getting the wrong pony which was good, or she might have to come up with a whole other plan and that would be annoying.

When he came in, it took him a bit to notice her. One of his eyebrows rose, but he just said his usual 'Good morning,' and sat down to do whatever he did before class. He wasn't wearing any costume boo!

Everypony else shuffled in after her. She grinned and waved at Tinsel when she came in. She was wearing a princess costume - like Princess Platinum, not Princess Celestia - and stuck her tongue out.

Mister Cosine cleared his throat. Taking up the chalk, he started writing the lesson name on the board when Tinsel sat down.

Pllllbbbbrrrt!

Tinsel shrieked. She bolted up from her desk, screaming it wasn't her, and looked down at her seat.

Nothing.

Everypony laughed. Mister Cosine didn't say anything, but she thought she saw his mustache twitch a little like he was trying to stop smiling. She did that a lot too so she knew what it looked like, except she really didn't since she only felt what it felt like.

Mister Cosine cleared his throat again, and tried to get their attention. "Now now everypony, settle down. We're starting a very important lesson today-" The class did quiet down, but Sunset heard snickering around the room.

Tinsel, cherry red, sat down again.

Pllllbbbbrrrt!

The laughter roared. Sunset didn't join them. She stayed quiet, sneaky. She still smiled though. This was her revenge, all hers, and she did it all by herself.

Tinsel noticed.

Her face soured. She narrowed her silver eyes, flecked with gold like glitter, and hissed like a snake, drawing a hoof over her neck. "This. Isn't. Over."

Sunset smiled, and ignored her.

Sunset swaggered home.

She felt like a million bits. Nothing could ruin today!

Tinsel didn't scare her. Tinsel was mean, but she was dumb. Sunset could run circles around her, whatever it was she did. Sunset grabbed the whoopie cushion too before Tinsel could, so she didn't have any evidence to show.

This wasn't the end, though. Tinsel would try to get her back. Fine. Sunset could do that too, and do it better.

She turned a corner, the one with the old red brick alley and flickering oil streetlamp. Beyond that her Orphanage, where she could kick back and plan what else she could do. She'd have to go after Gold and Emerald next to even the score.

Her heart fell. Hard.

Swan was there, on the porch. She wasn't smiling.

Shoot.

Was she in trouble? Did Tinsel tell? Was Principal Primrose giving her a suspension? How did they even figure it out?

She approached cautiously. Head bowed, she prepared herself for another scolding and, probably this time, grounding. "Hi," she murmured.

"There you are." Swan pulled her into a winghug. Surprised, Sunset fought for a bit, then melted. Swan let go. "There's something I need to tell you. Follow me."

She turned, holding out her left wing. Sunset slid under the cover, brushing up into the soft downy. A million questions gone, in their place a million more.

Swan pushed open the doors, leading Sunset in. "We've brought in a new orphan today."

Sunset's ear flicked. "Okay."

"Yes, and." Swan frowned. She stroked Sunset's back. "How she came to us was not pleasant. I'd seriously refrain from asking about her parents, do you understand?"

Sunset nodded.

"Good." They turned a corner. "She's a thestral. Do you know what those are?"

"Uh-uh."

"In more common parlance, they are known as bat ponies. They are rare, and make up a very small segment of Equestria's equine population. Likewise, they often keep to themselves, not that they could be blamed. Equestria is a better place than what it used to be, but biases and unfounded fears run deep. So if you see anypony making fun of or being unkind towards her, let me know, okay? I'm trusting you to do that for me." She squeezed Sunset's side.

"Okay."

As they passed, Sunset studied the painting on the left wall, a recreation of Bran Oats' 'Starry Bright'. There was a low wooden table below it with chips in the wood, and a porecelain flower vase with thin spiderweb fractures.

She traced the painting's swirls and wilting petals, hoping they'd give her some sort of answer. She was confused. Why was she being told all this? For what purpose? She'd never been told about the arrival of a new orphan, and it wasn't like she was known for being the responsible or ponyable type either.

Swan stopped. She kept stroking her back. "I'm telling you all this," she said. "Because she'll be sleeping in your room for a while."

"What??" Sunset pulled back, mouth open.

Swan sighed. "It's only for now, sweetness. I know you prefer your privacy. She came here just today, and we need to sort out living arrangements and papers for her first. That usually takes a week. Oh come now, don't give me that look. Did you know I kept you in my office days after you came here? Oh yes, and let me tell you, I was the one who had to change your diapers."

"Ewwww, stoooop! I get it, I get it!"

"And you were a very stinky filly."

"Matrooooon!"

Swan cracked a grin, patting her with a wing.

"Hmph!" Sunset stamped a hoof.

"I'll quit now. Just behave for me, okay? She's very upset and sensitive at the moment. I'm not asking you to be her friend, but I am asking you to make her stay as pleasant as possible until she gets her own room. Believe me, I considered other options for where to place her or who with, but for whatever reason I trust you the most. Please prove to me that trust was not unfounded."

Sunset huffed, but nodded. "Okaaay. I'll try..."

"Thank you. She's in your room right now, reading I believe. Let's go get you two acquainted, hm?"

She dragged her hooves on the way there. It was her room. It wasn't supposed to be anyone else's. She knew the other orphans shared bunks in their rooms but she was supposed to be different.

She didn't want to make Swan upset either. She knew she wasn't like other kids, because she never got along super well with them or the adults. She tried to behave. She really, really did, but it was never enough.

They stopped at the door. Swan knocked. "Moonstone, sweetie? It's me, Matron Swan. I've brought your roommate with you." She waited. No response. "I'm coming in now."

Swan turned the lock. Sunset hid under her tail, using her own hair as more cover. If Moonstone couldn't see her, she wouldn't have to say anything.

The door opened. She saw Moonstone - and a thestral - for the first time.

She looked like a funny mirror of herself. She had a super bright coat, almost white, but a little blue and purple. Her hair was straighter, and the left went over her eye a bit like Sunset's except without the fringe. Two colors split her mane and tail in big stripes, the left whiter than her coat and the other one a deep blue like the ocean, even though Sunset hadn't ever been to the ocean.

She had big, wide, sparkly golden eyes like Sunset's fur. They were pretty, but the pupils freaked her out a little. And the fangs, and the bat wings, and huge fluffy bat ears! They were also kinda cute though, because bats were cute and nopony else really seemed to like them so she'd like them instead.

Swan looked down. "Come now, Sunshine." She started nudging her with her leg. "Don't be a silly filly. She won't bite."

Sunset held her leg tighter, peeking out behind her. "Uhm. Hi."

"Hi," Moonstone repeated. She was sitting on a mattress next to her bed, reading a book.

She was curious, so she let Swan go to get a better look. The cover was faded purple, and the pages were old and yellow. She tilted her head to read the title and gasped. "Poetry of Dragons, by Amber Flame?"

"Uh huh."

"I love that book! The one about the Old Dragon Lord is my favorite."

"Okay."

Sunset frowned. She looked up at Swan, who leaned down to her ear. "Don't take it personally, dear. She lost her parents very recently, remember? Just be nice."

"Okay," Sunset whispered back. It would only be a week anyway, then everything would go back to normal.

The next few days were slow, but it was fine. Moonstone didn't talk much, but she read lots. She also stayed inside a lot, too.

The other kids got really curious. Some of them asked about her, or asked Sunset if they could see her. She said no. It wouldn't be nice to let random ponies into her room without Moonstone's permission, and she didn't like Moonstone being there anyway so more ponies in there would just be annoying.

She didn't like what some of them said about Moonstone. A bunch were just really curious because they'd never seen a thestral, and they always watched her close when she came out for things. A bunch of others got mean though, making fun of her eyes, or fangs, or wings, or ears. It made Sunset think how she felt when Tinsel and her friends called her an orphan girl.

Sunset didn't get it, the mean kids or Tinsel and her friends. Moonstone looked a little weird and was like some bat pony or whatever, but she was still a pony.

On the weekend, Swan pulled her aside and told her she got Moonstone's 'documents' sorted. Apparently that meant Moonstone was going to attend school with her soon and move into her own room.

She'd miss reading Moonstone's books when she finished them, but that was okay. It would be her room again. After that, they saw each other in the orphanage a lot.

Okay, not a lot. Moonstone didn't come out that much still, but whenever she did she hid in a corner or stayed closer to Sunset. After a while she started talking with the other kids and let them touch her ears. She let Sunset touch them too, except Sunset wanted to touch her fangs. They looked cool and pointy.

Not everypony was nice to her. One colt with a dumb face said she was an ugly bat and shouldn't be there. The Matrons always came in to stop stuff like that happening and it worked, but the mean kids just started whispering to each other instead.

Some of the whispers got to Sunset, and she decided she was gonna start doing something about it. She made a secret list in her sketchbook of the ponies that were being mean or telling lies, so she could tell Swan about it later like she asked.

But she dealt with it by herself too. She got sneaky, watching the bad ones and staying hidden until they did something weird or gross. She'd remember it, and then start writing notes and putting them around the orphanage where other kids could read. The dumb face colt ate his own boogers, pinchy snout gargled her toothpaste, and freckles had a unibrow he had to shave every morning. She didn't need a list to keep those in her head, plus if she made one it would be evidence.

She started taking it further. Since she had those invisibility potions and wasn't doing anything with them, she stole a pin cushion and some pins from Matron Silky. Then, she covered them in the potion, watched the bullies to find their favorite chairs, and put the cushion on the seat when they weren't looking. She did it behind a corner, so when they sat down and got up yelling she could take it back without anypony noticing.

She thought they'd get the point, but they didn't, 'cause they were dumb. So on the first week of November, she went into Swan's office and read her the list. They didn't stop bullying Moonstone right away, but they got suspicious, and eventually they stopped.

It made her feel good. She still did the other things to them though, because that made her feel better.

The weekend arrived, and winter came early. Winter always came early in Canterlot, because it was colder up in the mountains. She missed autumn. The red and orange and gold leaves were pretty, and the dry brown ones were all dry and ugly. She hated them, but they were fun to crunch when they weren't wet. She felt like a giant when she stepped on them.

Plus, winter meant snow! And snow meant sometimes she didn't have to go to school, and it meant hot cocoa nights on Fridays.

On Monday morning, she got up early. She was still trying to be good for Swan so she could get her grade moved up like she said, but it was taking a while and she started to worry it wouldn't happen. She did it anyway.

Matron Piper came in to wake her up. She was a light green mare with a wavy rosepetal mane, and had Moonstone by her side wearing her own saddlepack. "Oh! You're already awake. Sorry Swan couldn't see you this morning. She was busy with a meeting - somepony's been spreading rumors about ponies here lately. Moonstone here will be starting school with you today, isn't that just peaches?"

Sunset nodded. She and Moonstone shared a tiny wave.

"Then let's get going!" Matron Piper chirped.

They opened the door, and Sunset had to squeeze her eyes shut. "Briiiight," she wined." Moonstone hissed and whimpered.

Sunset remembered seeing Moonstone staying up late to read without any light, which meant she must have night vision - so cool. Not cool when it was snowing, though.

Matron Piper hummed. "Full snow day today. Will you two be alright getting to class?"

Sunset nodded, puffing her chest. "Uh huh!" She looked over the mare's withers. "I can take Moonstone with me."

They waved goodbye, and Sunset pointed out the landmarks so Moonstone would know where to go without her help. She took them left, around the brick alley with the streetlamp, away from the big green signs because that led to the markets, past General Alchemical, and straight down the long line of shops. Moonstone listened, ears twitching like crazy.

They slowed down as they got to the schoolfront. It was three stories tall, and made from painted slate bricks and granite columns with a red roof. Sunset heard it used to be pretty, but that was a really, really, really long time ago. The pony that made it wasn't even alive anymore.

Before they entered, Sunset tilted her head. "Are you gonna be in my class?" She didn't know how old Moonstone was.

"No." Moonstone shook her head, pushing inside. "I'm eight."

Sunset gasped. "You are!" She whined, scraping the snowy porch. "I wish I was in third grade."

Moonstone nodded. She started to leave, but Sunset stopped her. "Wait! If you see Tinsel or Gold or Emerald, get away."

Moonstone blinked, slowly. "Okay," she said, and went around the left hall. Sunset wouldn't see her again until recess.

Everypony at school loved snow days. Sunset was one of them.

It was a good thing Prism had a huge courtyard to play in. Ponies were making snow ponies, and castles, and angels, and all sorts of other things. Moonstone was doing something on her own but she couldn't tell what. Sunset was trying to make a snow phoenix but it was hard because the wings kept falling off.

They still had ten minutes, though. She would get it eventually. If she didn't, there would be more snow days to try later.

The pegasi scheduled lots of snow from November to February, and sometimes October and March, or even September! She didn't get what the point of it was but Swan said the pegasi in Cloudsdale had a really big weather factory and helped the seasons change, just like Princess Celestia raised the Sun and Moon.

Sunset always thought that was so cool. Imagine how tough you had to be to raise something like that. She wanted to see the Princess one day and maybe attend a Summer Sun Celebration, but if she wanted to go that would mean the whole orphanage had to go and Swan told her that would be expensive and 'difficult to organize'.

Reaching down in her saddlepack, she pulled a carrot out of her lunchbag. It wasn't hers. She took it from somepony when they weren't looking, but she was using it to give her phoenix a beak so they'd probably understand.

Then, the snowball hit.

She didn't see who it hit or came from for a second, and didn't recognize the ponies when she did. That was all it took though. A bunch more ponies started throwing snowballs and laughing and shouting, so Sunset joined in, too. She took the carrot back, ate it since she was hungry, and smashed her phoenix down to make a wall around herself.

She liked using magic to make her snowballs. It was faster and easier, so she usually won against whoever she was fighting. Sometimes ponies called her a stupid nubhead and said that was cheating, but none of the ponies who asked for her help did. They knew she was the best. The rest were just jealous.

Peeking up from her wall, she built up her ammo pile. Most of her balls were normal size but she made some fat ones more like snow cannonballs. Those weren't a thing, but if she had a snowcannon they would be.

When she knew she had a good wall made, she started throwing. She didn't have the best aim - pegasi usually had better - but she had better than most of the earthers.

She hit one filly right on the face and cackled, then tossed her snow cannonball and watched it burst over the filly's whole head! She stumbled around with it covering her face for a few seconds, and then she fell over. Ponies around her laughed, and the smart unicorns like her and the teams they were on rolled up cannonballs like hers.

To the left, opposite of Moonstone, Tinsel and her friends stayed out of the fight. They made a three-wall barrier around them a little taller than them. Sunset wondered if she could bring it down if she packed one of her cannonballs tight.

Other balls sailed over her. A couple got her in the shoulder or chest. One hit her butt, and she got revenge on the filly who did it using her big ball on hers.

It was chaos! Especially when the other cannonballs started falling, making loud snowy explosions. There was so much going on she couldn't keep up with who was throwing what. Ponies dug trenches and formed battle lines and hid behind towers and castles, or tried to run around between everything without getting hit.

Sunset thought they were like soldiers on a battlefield. Tired, hungry, frostbitten, fighting to the last for their country and Princess!

It wasn't actually that cool, but she had fun imagining it was. If they lived in old Equestria, Before Unification, she could have been a knight or assassin. Or a knight-assassin.

Some ponies tried to play nice or not play dirty. Sunset wasn't one of them. This was war! Being nice didn't matter as long as you won, 'cause then you were the winner and nopony could do anything to you.

That was why Tinsel and her friends were the way they were. They won, so Sunset couldn't do anything to them. Not yet.

A snowball shot past her from the right. A second later it hit.

"H-hey!"

Sunset looked left. It had gone over Tinsel's wall, and smacked Gold in the face. Sunset looked right, and her stomach did knots.

'Oh no.'

Moonstone threw it. She had a fangy grin on her face and another ball in her hooves. She tossed it and got Tinsel's hair.

'Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no.'

Tinsel screamed. "Everypony stop!" She kicked the wall down and took it apart, making a wall of snowballs in her magic that floated behind her. Gold and Emerald followed, heading Moonstone's way.

Nopony said anything. They just watched. Sunset wanted to move but couldn't, ducking under her wall so they didn't see her.

Moonstone stopped smiling. She looked around with wide eyes, before she settled on the trio.

Tinsel smirked. She got up close to Moonstone, juggling the snowballs in her magic.

"Lookie, girls. A stupid, ugly batpony."

Gold blew a raspberry. Emerald gagged.

"She thinks she can throw snowballs at us," Gold snarled. She wiped the snow off her snout and flicked it at Moonstone. She flinched, and backed up.

"Yeah," said Emerald, yawning. "But she's just a bat, and bats are dumb. I bet she doesn't even know who we are."

Tinsel beamed. "We should teach her, then!"

She threw a snowball. Moonstone yipped, brushing it off with her wing. Tinsel looked at it and sneered.

"Gross."

She threw another one. Moonstone stepped back.

Sunset remembered what they did to her in the hall. Spitting, and spitting, and spitting, and closing in.

Tinsel threw more and more, until Moonstone fell on her rump and started sniffling.

"Hey!" Sunset barked. She was so angry she forgot her snowballs, jumping over her wall and running to get in front of Moonstone. "Leave her alone!"

Gold rolled her eyes. "Anypony hear that?"

Tinsel shook her head. "Nope!" She tossed a snowball at Sunset. "Just an annoying orphan girl."

Sunset caught it mid-air.

"I said," she growled. She flared the energy from her horn, and made them watch the snowball melt in front of them. "Leave her alone."

Tinsel yawned. "Why? Are you marefriends or something?"

Gold kicked a hoof. "I heard the bat's an orphan, too. I bet that's why."

"That makes so much sense! Stupid dirty orphans have to stick together, right? Like pretty fillies have to stick together!" She bumped her friends' flanks, then threw another snowball at Moonstone.

Sunset didn't catch it in time. It got Moonstone in the eye. She curled up on the ground and cried.

Sunset felt that thing again. The thing in her chest and tummy. It made her excited, and sick, and it made her not care what happened if she did something that got her in trouble.

"Leave," she hissed. "Her alone!"

"Or what? You're gonna put a whoopie cushion on my seat again-"

Tinsel didn't finish.

The fire inside built up and up, bigger and hotter than the fireplace back home. She felt it burn, and her heart got so loud she couldn't hear anything. The base of her horn ached, and it started climbing, hurting at the tip the worst but in a good way. In a great way.

Sunset cast a spell she didn't know, and a ring of fire rose from the ground like a pop-up book, separating her and Moonstone from the three fillies. They shrieked and backed up too fast, falling on their rumps.

Sunset cocked her head. "I told you. You didn't listen."

Gold and Emerald scrambled to their hooves, running away. Tinsel yelled at them to come back but they kept going. She got back on her hooves and stared at Sunset with wide eyes.

She was angry. Scared, too.

Sunset smiled.

She pointed her horn at Tinsel, and gave her last warning. "Go away, or I'll burn you, too."

"Orphan girl." Tinsel spat on the ground, then ran after her friends.

Sunset went to Moonstone. She was in a tight ball in the snow, tail between her legs and covering her face with her wings. It sounded like she couldn't breathe.

Sunset put a hoof on her wither. Moonstone squeaked and shrank back. "It's okay. It's me. Sunset."

Moonstone peeked at her. Her pupils weren't little and slim anymore. They were round and black, like Matron Dejeur's kitty cat's when Sunset tried to pick him up.

Moonstone kept looking for a bit, before lowering her wings. "O-o-okay." She got up, shaky, and whispered so quiet Sunset almost couldn't hear her. "Why did you do that?"

"Because Tinsel and her friends are jerks. They're always mean to me, and I didn't want them to be mean to you."

Moonstone nodded. She lifted her eyes up to meet Sunset's. She stopped partway, staring at the fire and her.

Wait. Not at her. Behind her?

"What?" She looked around, trying to figure out what it was. "What's wrong? Are they back?"

She didn't find anything, and turned back to Moonstone.

"You're... you got your cutiemark!" she squeaked, jabbing her hoof behind Sunset.

The world stopped spinning. She didn't notice the heat from the fire. The chilly plume of her breath. The whispers from the courtyard. Time slowed down too much to notice anything.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be. That was crazy.

It took her a while to ask. "I do?"

Moonstone nodded.

She didn't believe it. This had to be a joke. Looking down, she expected to see her usual blank, orange yellow flank.

Instead, she saw a beautiful Sun.

It had arms, reaching out from the center in swooping curves. One half was a dark, colorful red, the other a light and mellow yellow.

'Light and dark,' she thought. 'Light and dark, light and dark.' What did it mean? Cutie marks were supposed to mean something.

Her mouth flapped up and down, dumb like a fish. What was she supposed to say? What the Tartaru- heck was she supposed to even think?

The ring of fire burned hot, melting the snow around them. Snowflakes fell and hissed into steam before they touched the ground.

Moonstone spoke for her.

"Can we be friends?"

Author's Note

Chapters 5-8, with the exception of Intermission I, are old writing and will be rewritten soon. Continue reading at your own discretion.

Chapter 5: I've Missed You

The fork, gilded and jewel encrusted, came to Sunset's lipz. She parted her mouth, and accepted the fine scramble, savoring its taste.

She wasn't sure how she didn't see the fanciness of the silverware earlier. Last night though, she'd been starving. You didn't notice those sorts of things in that state.

She would know. To her, hunger was not an unfamiliar feeling.

It struck her, as she took another bite, that she used to eat like this every day. That was when Celestia had been her teacher, and she her unruly student.

It felt like a lifetime ago. In reality, it had been six years. But at nineteen years of age, pushing twenty, six years made up a third of her lifespan.

She took another bite. The eggs almost dissolved on her tongue. Crisp and crunchy on the outside, soft and fluffy on the inside - plus the addition of hot sauce for herself - she'd struggle to find a dish of comparative skill in all of Canterlot City's finest restaurants.

Rarity could probably show her one, but Sunset needed to have at least some money left over for rent.

Ha. Rent.

Funny to think she had rent now, considering where she'd started on Earth. Those first few days she spent in a run down, abandoned building in what used to be Canterlot City's industrial district. Other vagrants warned her the building was condemned, and planned to be demolished before long.

That never happened. To this day it stood, a crumbling facade of blank concrete, used needles, and spray paint grafitti. Or, as she called it for about a year: home.

Then Flash took her in.

The relationship was never truly genuine. Her appreciation for his generosity was. Though, Sunset was fairly certain few boyfriends would have let their girlfriends live in such conditions.

She lied a lot back then. As far as he was concerned, she was a troubled teen who'd been kicked out by her parents for being bi. He and his folks swallowed that untruth right up, and suddenly she had an actual bed to sleep on at night, and a reliable source of food to fill her thinning belly.

That gave her the opportunity to find a real job. She still made money on the side selling some... less than legal substances, but she took the safer, more stable source of income gladly. Less chance of getting shot, whether by a fellow criminal or the police.

By sixteen, she'd won the Fall Formal three years in a row. Good thing too, because that same year she broke up with Flash.

The year Twilight Sparkle came to school.

But y'know, she'd never complained about being in that shitty old building. Every night she fell asleep on cold, hard concrete she told herself, whispering to the darkness and the visible stars outside:

"It's just a stepping stone. You'll go back one day, and show her how wrong she was."

In a way, she'd been right. Just not in the way she would have expected, or wanted.

Good, she thought. What old Sunset wanted, present Sunset abhorred.

Thirsty, she set down her fork. She grabbed the tall glass of orange juice in her magic and tipped it down her throat.

It was cool, refreshing - exactly what she needed.

Across the table sat Starlight, eating her own breakfast. The prongs of her fork tinked against the china, scraping together the scumbles that tried to escape.

Neither had said one word to one another, except for 'Good morning' and 'We should get breakfast'.

Sunset chastised herself for last night's behavior. It was stupid. Sure, maybe Starlight could learn to take a hint, but that didn't excuse the outburst.

Even now, after everything she'd been through, Sunset had anger issues. They weren't nearly as bad or frequent as they used to be, but she had them.

Sunset would have given anything for Celestia to be here right now. She couldn't stand the silence. She never could. Back in her fillyhood days, if there was quiet space she'd fill it with her thoughts, or her words if circumstances allowed.

She set down her glass, took a breath.

"Hey, Starlight?"

"Mh?" Starlight, wearing only her beanie, looked up. "Yeah?"

"You don't have to stay here if you don't want to."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean." She sighed. "After last night. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to spend your time with somepony else."

Starlight frowned, stilling her fork. "I already told you I understood what you're going through. I pushed too far, and you got a bit angry. That's all. Happens to everypony." Her fork moved again, and she shoved a mouthful of eggs into her maw. "Beshides. I'm more convinshed than ever I should shtick around."

Sunset cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean." She swallowed, then pointed the fork at herself. ""Is that I did something a lot like what you're doing right now. I wronged a whole lot of ponies myself - a whole Sun-damned town. Then, one day, a while after I met Twilight, I got sent a letter."

Starlight grabbed her glass - filled with cranberry, rather than orange juice - and chugged. "I freaked the Tartarus out. Seriously, like. I've got a really bad anxiety problem. There are times that I get overwhelmed and just kinda... shut down, you know?"

Sunset laughed, interrupting Starlight as she wiped false tears from her eye. Sorry, sorry, It's just- You, me. Two formerly villainous ponies who redeemed themselves and now carry tons of mental baggage, on top of the various prior unexamined traumas we carried before that. It's a funny coincidence, you have to admit."

Starlight grinned. "Tell me about it, sister. We just need this world's Trixie and we can make a club. We'll call it-" She spread out her hooves. "'The Haven for Redeemed and Mentally Ill Unicorns'. Eh, eh? Whaddyou think?"

Sunset sported a lop-sided smirk, wavering her fork in the air. "Decent starter, but I think it could use some work. Replace 'haven' with 'home' and you're getting somewhere. But in any case, we've gotten a bit off topic. You were saying?"

"Right, right. So, yeah, I got this letter in the mail. They wanted me to return for the Sunset Spectacle celebration. Not only did they want me to return, when I got there? They wanted me to run the whole thing, and I'm like. Are you bucking crazy? The last time I came to this town I literally had you all brainwashed and give up your cutie marks! I ran away, terrified. I didn't think I deserved forgiveness, but they gave it to me anyways, and in spades. I just couldn't deal with it."

"But?"

"But," she sighed. "I came back, after defeating Chrysalis. The experience made me realize that while I wasn't being too hard on myself - because what I did was awful - I should learn to be able to accept forgiveness. And, for that matter, leadershipp, because me being a leader was never the issue. It was my ideology, my traumas, and unexamined fears. That situation isn't exactly the same as yours, I know, but it's similar enough. The main difference is you're intentionally seeking out the ponies you did wrong by to try and repair things where I just stumbled into it."

After a pause, thinking, Sunset nodded. "That... makes sense. Thanks, Starlight."

Starlight winked. "Don't mention it."

"But! Don't stick your nose in things too much, 'kay? Maybe you don't mind talking about your personal stuff, but I kinda do. Call it a personal flaw or whatever, I know it probably isn't a good thing I hate talking about my problems, but I have it anyway. So, if you can respect that, it'd be greatly appreciated."

"Worried I'm gonna go Twilight on you?" Starlight laughed. "I'll keep to myself. I might be her student, but you'd never guess it if you didn't know. Consider your secrets safe from my snuffling nostrils. I warn you though, they are very snuffly."

Sunset snickered.

"So what's on the docket for today, then? Got anypony in mind you wanna start with."

"Honestly?" said Sunset, staring down at her plate. "I think I just want to walk around for a bit. See the sights, smell the smells. It's been forever since I've seen Canterlot - properly, I mean. You can come with, if you'd like."

Starlight nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

After, they fell silent, and finished their breakfast.

Down the mountain corridor, Starlight and Sunset walked. To their left rose shear stone cliffs, reaching up towards the blue sky. To their right lay the city in its four-tiered glory, Celestia's early morning Dun shining upon.

The steps for most of the stair had been crafted of the same marble as three of the four tiers, and Canterlot Castle itself. Lower, around Old Canterlot, it transitioned to polished granite, a vaguely bluish gray.

Borders on the right prevented ponies from falling. Every now and again they came upon a junction, leading off towards the right. There would stand lightly mared checkpoints, to prevent random passers by from entering. The stair provided easy, straight-shot access to the palace grounds, and though Equestria had not faced true war or rebellion in centuries a capital must always remain well-guarded.

Before going out, they had slipped on their clothes. Sunset her black leather jacket, Starlight her own sleeveless jacket and teal shirt. The padding provided a buffer for the chilling winds up where they went.

They passed the high district first, then the middle before Starlight spoke up.

"We're going lower?" she asked.

Sunset hummed her affirmation. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I guess I always presumed you came from a similar background to Twilight."

Sunset quirked a brow. "That being?"

Starlight averted her gaze, grinning shyly. "I'm trying to think of how to put this without sounding rude. Either to you, or her."

Sunset blew an errant lock from her face. "You act like I care. Go on. I'm not gonna be insulted, and I won't go snitching to the Princess of Friendship." She snorted. "God, that's such a dumb title. Wouldn't it make more sense to call her the Princess of Magic?"

"But Sunset, don't you realize that friendship is magic?"

"I will actually push you over that ledge."

Starlight cackled. "In all seriousness. I guess the thing I figured was you had a privileged background. Or, at least, you grew up in the middle district."

"Nah. Trust me though, haha. I wish I grew up that way. No," she sighed. "Instead, I grew up here."

She gestured towards what counted as Old Canterlot's skyline. The roofs were brick, slate, or shingled and each building stood no taller than four stories, and covered much of the streets from view. Cramped and narrow was the best way to describe it, with any walkway allowing no more than a hoofful of ponies to stand side by side.

"Didn't know my parents. I was dropped off at the Royal Canterlot Orphanage before I was old enough to form real memories. I've got a couple vague ones - colors that might have been my mother, or a room that might have been mine, but that's it. It wasn't til I was older I got into Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Then, eventually, Celestia took me in herself, and I lived in the castle for a few years. I had to scrape every victory by the skin of my teeth. Nothing was ever easy."

Starlight's face gained a look Sunset recognized well. It was one she hated, ever since she was a little filly.

"Don't pity me, Starlight. It's not something I've ever desired."

"Sorry."

Sunset rolled her eyes, elbowing Starlight in the ribs. "Seriously. It's cool. I've gotten over it, and it's not like I had the worst foalhood in the world. Some ponies would kill to have what I did. Y'know, an actual roof over their heads. And, oh! We're here."

They stopped at an arched gateway. Two stone towers thrust into the sky, between them a bridge and latticed iron gate. On either side two guards had been stationed. Above them, on the bridge, paced a pair of steel-clad pegasi.

"Halt!"

The voice rang out like rolling thunder, hard as stone. The pegasus who spoke it - a mare with a grayish pelt - flew down to meet them. Her metal-shod hooves thunked against the packed earth, kicking up flecks of grit. Judging by the wings of her helmet and the royal crest on her breastplate, Sunset guessed her to be the waypoint's commander.

"State your names and business," she said.

Sunset offered the mare a polite smile. "My name is Sunset Shimmer, and my friend here is Starlight Glimmer."

Unappeased, the mare continued. "I don't recognize either of those names. How are you here on the Royal Stair?"

Joy. Fate had conspired to give Sunset a hardass. Luckily, she had a lot of experience dealing with ponies like this.

Donning a voice of authority and bravado - one she used to utilize often - Sunset explained. "I am the former student of Her Majesty Princess Celestia. My friend is the current personal protege of Princess Twilight Sparkle, to whom we are both friends. We are here on the express permission of the Crown."

"And your purpose?"

"Visiting Old Canterlot, where I used to live."

The pegasus stern expression remained. She called over a skinnier fellow - a unicorn with a salmony coat - and had him write the details of Sunset's declaration on a scrap of browned parchment. When he finished, she stared Sunset down with a pair of steel blue eyes, utterly unwavering in their conviction.

"We'll see whether your words are true or not, Miss Sunset Shimmer. For now, you will wait here in our custody until your claims are substantiated."

Sunset glanced towards Starlight, then sighed. "Fine."

The commander nodded, exchanged words with her scribe, and retook her place at the station's perch. The stallion gave them an abashed smile.

"Sorry for the trouble, ladies," he offered. "Commander Stormfront can be a touch, ehehhem. Over zealous at times. I'm sure you'll be able to pass through soon, But for now, please follow me."

Quill and scroll in tow, he guided them towards one of the towers. A wooden door marked its entrance, which he unlatched and pushed open. They went inside, wordless.

"Just wait here. Commander Stormfront will return to let you pass through later."

He shut the door, and left them to their silence.

The moment he was out of earshot, Sunset broke it. "Ugh, seriously?"

"Right? Honestly, we should just teleport to the other side."

"As much as I'd like to, I'd rather not antagonize anypony today. Do you really wanna be the one to explain to Princess Celestia why a platoon of guards searched the entire lower district for a pair of unicorns whose names just so happen to end with -immer?"

"Fair point."

Sunset surveyed her surroundings. The room offered little in the way of amenities, and sparse area to move around. Carved into the left and right sides were windows, too small for a pony to slip through but large enough to allow faint trickles of pale light. Motes of dust twirled in the morning rays, dancing like elegant ballerinas.

But that light did little to brighten the room. Rather, most of the lighting came from torches, which cast the space in a warm, but faint amber glow.

Below each window had been set out wooden benches, about the length of the average mare, held up by black iron chains. Beyond that a locked door led up to a spiralling staircase and additional floors. Up there led to the barracks proper, and further up the bridge.

Down here was meant for keeping prisoners. If Sunset hadn't experienced similar conditions in the past - with the fun addition of nullifier rings and iron clasps - she might have been offended.

Scratch that. She was still a little offended, though she had no recourse for voicing said discontent.

Ultimately, her failed ploy came as small surprise. Nopony knew nor cared who 'Sunset Shimmer' was anymore. She'd been gone for too long.

Sunset took her seat on the left, Starlight the right. She propped her elbow on the window's ledge and rest her cheek against a curled foreleg, gazing towards the outside.

"Getting some major deja vu vibes right now," she said.

"From what, being locked in a guard tower?"

"Plus the whole 'interrogated by authorities' thing. Used to happen a lot to me actually, but not in a long while."

"Now those are some stories I'd wanna hear!"

Sunset looked over and grinned. "Well you can keep wanting. If a mare wants to stay interesting she's gotta keep some mysteries to herself."

Starlight pouted. "You are the absolute worst kind of tease."

"Not the first time someone's told me that." Sunset glanced back through the window, smiling. "Probably won't be the last."

Sunset kept track of time by the sun's position in the sky. It gave her a decent clue to how long they waited, but Starlight's watch provided a far more exact number. First half an hour passed. One hour. One and a half. Two.

Three quarters past noon, the knock arrived. Stormfront stepped in and bowed. "My apologies for the wait. You're free to go."

Neither her expression nor tone belied any such sympathies.

Sunset nodded, no more and no less, resisting the urge to sass the mare off. Starlight muttered her thanks.

Stormfront moved aside, allowing them to leave. Brightness pierced Sunset's visione as she stepped out. Hissing, she squinted, shielding her eyes from the blinding glare as behind her, Starlight did the same.

Once her vision adjusted, they came to the portcullis. Darkly wrought iron made up the large gate in a lattice, though spots of rust and age ate away at the bars. The stallion from earlier lit his horn, surrounding the lever in a cloudy azure aura. He pulled, strain showing on his face, but nothing happened.

"Heh, sorry, ratty old thing. We don't get as much funding down here as up there. Give me just... one... second...!"

Fierce yanks on the lever served to punctuate his words. Chains rattled, and the creaking, clunking noise of stubborn metal echoed through the courtyard like a hollow screech.

"Don't worry about it," said Sunset. "We'll, uh, we'll just teleport."

In a flash, she appeared at the gate's other side. A moment later Starlight popped in beside her.

Sunset thought, entering the city proper, how events seemed to conspire against her. It was as though Equestria itself was telling her no, that she could not return to see her past.

Could not or should not, she wondered, pacing down the grim gray streets. Was she better off renegging her plans, forgetting this life and moving on with her new one? Was it really worth it coming back here? Would she even find what she came for?

She shook away these doubts. Heights were made to be climbed, and challenges to be overcome. Some delays and malfunctioning gates meant nothing.

As though she were a fish reeled in by some invisible fishermare's line, instincts pulled Sunset forward. Without a solid grasp on her exact location, she could only follow where her hooves ledd.

The deeper they delved into the city's guts, the broader Sunset's smile became.

This place hadn't changed a bit since she left, for better and for worse.

The gathered throngs of ponies they stumbled upon told Sunset they'd reached the market district. Tents, pavillions, carts, and open stands lined the narrow paths. Ponies chatted, naming wares and haggling prices. Everything from fresh fruit to flowers and cheap pearl necklaces changed hooves, though any such jewelry was merely a well-made facsimile. No pony in their right mind would go about selling genuine precious stones on this level of Canterlot, and for good reason.

Between the mingling crowds ran laughing colts and fillies, dodging and weaving underhoof. Those who knew the way of the street kept well out of their way. Those less knowledgeable - or quick enough - found themselves bumped into, and later would find their pockets short a few bits. Merchants, meanwhile, kept them at bay through spells, hired muscle, or a good old threat of beating them with a stick.

One filly with a short-cut, ruffled ruby mane shot straight for Starlight. Before she made contact Sunset pulled the mare away, leaving a very disappointed, frowny-faced foal.

Starlight looked at Sunset with an odd expression. Any confusion she had Sunset answered with one word under her breath: pickpockets.

Smiling, however, she beckoned the filly close. She was a runt, skinnier and shorter than the rest, with a creamy pink coat, mulberry eyes, and two underdeveloped wings at her side. Reluctantly she approached, and once in whispering range Sunset leant down.

"You able to fly, kiddo?"

"Uh-uh."

""But you can still use your wings, right?"

"Uhm, kinda?"

"Good. Here," Sunset said. She retrieved two bits from a hidden pocket inside her coat. The filly took and bit each one before pocketing them. "For you, and a little tip you can use in the future. Use those wings of yours when you wanna bump into ponies. It'll make you go faster."

She winked, stood back up, and resumed walking with Starlight.

Upon turning a corner, Starlight spoke up. "Bad girl, Sunset. Giving fillies tips for how to pickpocket? Twilight would be ashamed!"

Sunset snickered. "Just because I'm reformed doesn't mean I can't get up to a little trouble every now and then. But oooh, do you smell that?" She sniffed the air, closing her eyes, smiling.

Winds from the north carried the scent of cooking food. Upon it arrived the sounds of sizzling, bubbling, and crackling fire. More stalls and carts littered the walkways, putting on eager display the various street foods they had on offer. Some roasted spits of vegetables over their firepit, others had grills or deep fryers.

Most provided savory offerings, though not all. Plenty of the brighter-colored stands advertised fresh fruits and cream, frozen dairy desserts, and every other kind of sweet treat a pony could put to imagination.

The bustling food markets of Old Canterlot were a sight to behold, as ponies and creatures from all over came to whip up a taste of home. Foreign, national, and local cultures alike clashed and fused to one another to create a hub of epicurean activity the likes of which could never be found in Canterlot's higher districts. This was the place where creatures of the world came together, to boast as much as to roast - their food, if not their competitors skill.

Starlight's stomach roared.

"Hungry?" Sunset asked, smirking. "I know, stupid question. Follow me, I know the best stuff to get."

Guiding Starlight through the colorful, crowded bazaar, Sunset searched for her favorite offerings.

They stopped first at a cart selling Saddle Arabian cuisine, including a roasted kebab of onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, and desert flowers spiced and coated in feta cheese. They eagerly bit into their respective orders. Sunset hummed as Starlight moaned, flavorful vegetable juices dripping down each of their chins.

"Holy starsh. How have I been mishing out on thish all my life?"

"Easy. You weren't lucky enough to be born in Old Canterlot."

Swallowing, taking a second bite of wilted flowers, Starlight continued. "I'll say. I'd be round if I ever had a place like this near me every day."

Sunset laughed, and continued walking them through the market. "Well, it's not just about it being close by. You also need the money. I'd be lucky if I could visit this place and get something more than once a month. Made it more special though, in a way."

As they went, Sunset toured Starlight through scores of other ethnic cuisines. For what she guessed to be the first time in Starlight's life, she tried everything from seasoned thestral fruit bowls to baklava, swamp gumbo, eastern curries, Mareopean sausages, and dragon chocolates. Some dishes proved too spicy or overwhelming for the mare's suburban palette, though Sunset joked she'd get her hooked on firebreath hay chili before Sunset returned to Earth.

By the time they left the market area, Starlight was waddling.

"Worth it?" Sunset asked.

"Worth it," Starlight wheezed. "I... I think I'm gonna have to pass on dinner tonight."

"Ha! Weak. I could eat twice as much as you and still be fine."

"Yeah yeah. Not every pony is a walking trash compactor."

Snickering, Sunset observed their surroundings. Far fewer ponies populated this part of town, carts and stalls and storefronts replaced with faded shotgun housing. "Good news is," she said. "I know where we are now. Bad news, I still don't really know where I want to go."

Starlight shrugged. "Considering it was your gut feeling that led us to a place that made my gut the happiest it's ever been, just pick a direction. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Haha, sure. You know, I think my old school actually used to beeeee..." Sunset held out a hoof, scanning her options. "This way."

She pointed west, and led on. Past old-fashioned street lanterns they walked, run by gas rather than electricity. In some parts of the lower district, Sunset knew, they ran off technology no more advanced than magical flames.

When she was younger and dwelt within this tier of the city, Sunset often wondered why ponies overlooked Old Canterlot. Was it not important to ensure the health, longevity, and wellbeing of all the city, not just those more well-to-do? Was Old Canterlot so unimportant? Decades, centuries of history lived here, yet so little attention and important financing graced these weary streets.

It wasn't Celestia's fault, not wholly at least. Modern sensibilities held dictate that no ruler no matter how beloved should ever possess absolute power, as in the days of yore. For as far back as Sunset could remember, and generations before then, Equestria's power lie in the hooves of the ponies, or so was the hope.

In reality, power and influence trickled up, not down. Without proper guardrails and the insurance that every voice had sway, incentives guaranteed that money and attention be funneled into the areas deemed 'most important'.

Those areas, to little surprise, were the kind that already had greater economic production. Easier to pour bits where they'd already been invested, than to build something from the ground level.

And so Old Canterlot more survived than thrived.

The orphanage Sunset grew up in exemplified that dichotomy well. Its historical and royal ties might have meant it received superior funding to similar institutions in its backyard, but compared to places in the tiers above, it had always been understaffed and ill-equipped.

Perhaps, in better circumstances, they'd have had therapists and counsellors under their employ. Perhaps they could have stopped Sunset's spiral before it truly started.

But the past lay in the past and, in many ways, Sunset did not regret it. It was easy to imagine how much different and better things could have gone if this or that action had never been taken. Lesser often did a pony acknowledge the happiness they'd eventually found in their life, despite the pain and sorrow it took to get there.

At day's end, the importance lie in findding the balance. Momentarily, Sunset turned her head to acknowledge her cutie mark, then refocused on the path ahead, smiling.

Soon, they came across her first familiar sight.

Sunset brightened to see it in working order. Few at this time of day populated its sandy grounds, though in mere hours' time it would be filled with the jubilant cries of scampering children.

For clear reasons, Sunset chose to watch from afar. Parents watched their foals play in the sand, digging pits or building castles. Others clambered up metal ladders, or screamed in joy down tiny slides.

She looked to find the spot she had most enjoyed - a swingset she'd loved going to with her friend. Through the use of her magic or the filly's wings they'd make a competition out of it to see who could push the other higher. On more than a few occasions, they pushed too high, and one or the other wound up with a scraped knee or bruised forehead.

In its place, she found bare, coarse white sand. Four deep grooves stood as the sole reminder it had ever been there to begin with.

She couldn't blame them for removing it. The chains on that thing had been old and rusty, and the swings hung on by faint prayers. No doubt some accident had transpired, and upset parents forced them to take it down.

Still, it saddened her to see it gone.

If fortune favored, another set would take its place. Sunset liked the idea that future generations could share and enjoy in similar memories as she had, once.

Not far from the playground Sunset discovered her old school. Overgrown weeds and tiling of ill repair surrounded its front, like some strewn about, haphazard army.

Her thoughts turned to what might be happening beyond those red brick walls, the scratched glass panes and wooden shutters. These thoughts, in turn, rounded back to events from long ago.

Would her teachers still be there? Was Mister Cosine in that dimly lit classroom, telling kids not to blow spitwads? Or Misses Bubbling Brew, scratching elaborate alchemical formulae across the dusty, decades old blackboard? Did new bullies roam the halls, like Tinsel, Emerald, and Gold, and what sorts of ponies stood up to them and fought back like she had? Would they take things too far in the same way as her?

She wondered then, just what had become of the foals she knew from school and the orphanage alike. What might they think of her now?

She stood there, unmoving for a long time, lips sealed tightly shut until Starlight bumped her flank.

"So what's this place, then? You've been real quiet since we left the market."

Sunset shook her head. "Just reminiscing, wanting to visit old places from my foalhood I haven't seen in a very, very long time. It feels weird. Everything seems so much the same, but so different too. I know it's silly. Obviously things are going to be different - it's been over ten years since I've been back here, but... I dunno." She sighed. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Starlight nodded. "I do. Not that long ago I went home with a friend of mine to see our parents, which neither of us had done since we were young. I was too concerned with how annoyingly clingy and saccahrine my dad was being to notice, but I had a kinda similar feeling to what I imagine you have right now. It's like-"

"Deja vu?"

"Yeah."

"Heh. Guess the guard tower wasn't a fluke after all. I shouldn't be too surprised, though." She flipped her mane, turning around and starting off towards her next destination. "Today was meant to be a trip down memory lane. I'm just getting what I asked for."

Starlight trot after her, quickly catching up. "So you never told me what that place actually was."

"Old school of mine, before I ever went to the one for Gifted Unicorns. Had some asshole teachers and asshole bullies, but it wasn't all bad."

"Looked kinda run down if you're asking me."

"Oh, it absolutely was. Everypony loved pouring bits into the middle district, and the upper district practically funded itself. Down here though? We got the tablescraps.

Inwardly, Sunset sneered. She'd always hated the rich, snooty noble types and double-faced politicians as a filly. She didn't fancy them so much as a mare, either.

Perhaps Celestia'd been right preventing her from attending Day Court.

Sighing, she turned to Starlight, admitting, "I think I've seen enough for now. It's getting pretty late anyway."

Indeed, up above Celestia's Sun grew ever closer to where sky kissed land. Shades darkened as the faintest line of pink was visible, signalling the approach of sunset. Behind them the doors to that old school burst open, and out flowed the raccous cheers of young ponies, excited to return home and play with their friends.

With a silent nod, Starlight joined Sunset in her retreat.

Heading the way they came, Sunset couldn't help but to spare a glance back. Not far from the school, she knew, lay the foundations of the place she'd grown up in, and around it more places she and her old friend had made their own. They called to her, tempting her to turn around and look, but she faced forward instead.

Later. Not today.

As they passed again the playground, the homes, the emptying markets, Starlight asked, "Didn't you say you were looking for somepony today as well?"

"Yeah, I did. I haven't been walking down memory lane for the sake of it. Figured there might be a small chance I'd see her. Thought I did once, when we had lunch, but it wasn't her. That's fine though. It's a pretty big place to find one little bat pony."

"A thestral, huh? You know, I've never seen one until today. I feel like that's probably weird or offensive of me to say? But." She shrugged. "It's the truth."

"A lot of thestrals live in this part of Canterlot, actually. Most keep to themselves or, shocker, come out at night. I saw more of them around today then I've ever seen before, though. Makes me wonder if Luna's return reduced some of the stigma, helped them integrate and all. That'd be nice," she said, smiling. "My friend wasn't treated the best by everypony back when we were little. I hope she's found a more comfortable life for herself now."

"I'm sure she has, whoever she is."

Sunset smirked. "You're wanting to know more about her, aren't you?"

"Maybe?" Starlight blushed, stretching out the word. "Come on, Sunset, you can't blame a mare. You keep dangling these little pieces of information in my face and expect me not to wonder a little?"

Sunset chuckled. As they rounded a corner, the same red-haired pegasus from earlier skittered where they'd been leaving. Around her left wing slung the strap to a small brown pouch, jingling with bits. Sunset watched her disappear for a moment, then returned to walking.

"Fair enough," she said. "Let's see. Her name was Moonstone Gloom. I met her in second grade, when she came to the orphanage. We were pretty close for a couple years. It was actually because of her I got my cutie mark, at least partially."

"Tell?"

Sunset sighed, shaking her head. "Fine, but that's all you're getting."

As they trotted on, Sunset explained Moonstone's arrival, and the reception of her fellow orphans, of how Sunset manipulated her way into them treating the bat filly better. She told of the day they'd both gone to school together, but split up due to age and grade placement circumstances. Last came the tale of what happened in the schoolyard, and the three fillies that had bullied her. Sunset made sure to avoid any specific description of what they said, or more precisely any relation they had to bullying Sunset as well.

By the time they reached the Royal Stair gate, the world around was dipped in evening honey. Higher up stretched a blanket of blue and purple, littered with twinkling stars and Luna's rising Moon as lower it transitioned into reds and golds. Only a peeking hint of the Sun showed above the landscape.

To both mares' relief, Commander Stormfront remained at the station, allowing them to pass through unmolested. The pegasus did not appear especially pleased with their teleportation business, however.

That was fine, because Sunset didn't especially care.

"So, let me get this straight. You got your cutie mark defending a filly you barely knew from three bullies by casting a ring of fire spell, which you didn't even know existed?"

"Yup, that's basically right."

"How in the world did you go from that to being a villain? No offense." She grinned. "I've been one myself, so I'm not exactly judging."

"None taken. The answer to that question is a long, long story though."

Starlight gestured towards the steps, rising high ahead. "We've got time."

"What did I tell you about noseing in my business again."

"Right, sorry."

"Look, if you really wanna know. The long and short of it is this - I lost focus of what should have been important to me. I forgot about the ponies I cared about, and thought the thing I needed to be happy was to prove myself as the best. Obviously, you know enough to know how that played out."

"Right."

It took them well into evening before they reached the castle. Sunset nodded towards the guards, and they raised the gate.

As Sunset passed the threshold, a soft and luminous gloom caught her attention, glowing a faint and milky blue at her periphery. She stopped and turned to observe, Starlight beside her.

"You know," Starlight said. "It's funny. I had a fillyhood friend as well, way before I went evil. From what I knew about him in the past, I figured he'd be this grand and incredible wizard at the Crystal Empire."

"Mhm," Sunset mumbled, tipping her head towards the bed of flowers. As she approached their petals spread, exposing the gentle, fuzzy fronds of shining white that lay within. "And was he?"

"Ha, no! Not even close. Not to dig at him too much, though. He works for the Princess Cadance and Prince Shining now, and he's probably the most knowledgeable unicorn there is in the current age when it comes to magic."

Sunset continued to observe the flowers - Moonstone Bloom. They'd been Gloom's favorite, for how similar the two of them were.

She remembered when they'd visited the Castle Gardens for a field trip, and Moon had seen them for the first time. It was love at once, and Sunset had helped her in stealing some of the blossoms to take back home. Moonstone tried her best to keep them alive for as long as possible, and their magical nature did extend their life, but one by one they died.

So what did Sunset do of course, but steal some more, and research preservation magic. It took her weeks, but eventually she'd perfected the spell, enchanting one of the fully bloomed flowers to last for what might as well be forever.

She remembered the unforgettable joy on her friend's face, and for this memory Sunset's chest grew pained.

"What happened between you two?" she asked.

"Oh, well. He got his cutie mark, and went off to show his parents. After that? He got sent straight to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Hay, you two might have even bumped into each other at some point!" Starlight paused. "What about you? Did something happen with Moonstone?"

"Yeah. She... We... Things didn't... end on the best of terms."

"Oh."

Sunset smiled an old, weary smile. "It's fine. It was a long time ago. Did..." Trailing off, she fell quiet for a long moment. "Did you know she was the first real friend I'd ever had?"

Starlight rest a hoof on her shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find her," she assured. "Sometimes, ponies are in the last place we expect them to be."

Sunset's ears perked, swivelling towards the sound of Starlight's voice. "Say that again?"

Starlight set her hoof back on the ground, tilting her head. "Sometimes ponies are in the last place we expect them to be? I'm confused."

Sunset laughed, whipping around quick and pulling Starlight into a crushing embrace. "Thank you Starlight, you're the best."

Starlight wheezed, voice coming out a rattled and dry whisper. "You're welcome? Can, can you please let go of me now?"

"Eheh, heh, right, sorry." She let go, and Starlight sucked in a loud breath.

"Now can you tell me what the buck that was about, exactly?"

"You reminded me of something. Don't know how I'd even forget it in the first place, but you reminded me!" She stamped her hoof against the grassy path, as though to announce some unknown triumph. "She got adopted."

"And that means?"

Sunset grinned.

"It means." She paused. "I can find her parents."

Chapter 6: What We Called Friendship

Before Moonstone arrived, Sunset thought she liked books.

Now, she saw she had in them only a passing interest. Sunset read perhaps a book at most per week. Gloom, on the other hoof, seemed as though she had a different title in her hooves each time they met.

Whether it be a work of fiction or non-fiction, history or fantasy, thriller, mystery, biography, it didn't matter. She ate from their words and drank from their pages. And to that extent, not one children's book lay in sight.

It gladdened Sunset to find a fellow book-loving soul. She always thought she'd been a strange filly to enjoy reading collegiate-level textbooks, the kind which discussed high-level application and theory of various magical and scientific disciplines.

Not physics, though. She hated math, and always would.

It reasoned she was still a weird filly regardless, but at least now she had a friend with whom to share their mutual oddities. Often their academic conversations took them into the wee hours of the morning. Whenever that happened they'd go to school bedraggled and drained of all energy, but they kept doing it anyway, despite knowing full well the ill effects.

The selection of texts from the orphanage did leave something to be desired. Most choices offered were of a pointedly lower grade level than what interested them most. Yet to their great joy and fortune, school boasted a far more rigorous array of pages to bury themselves into. But even that did not satisfy their full hunger, as they found greater enjoyment from reading together than alone.

Where they discovered the truest gold mine lie in Canterlot's public library - one among many. Perusing through books on Equestria and Canterlot's history, they discovered how long ago, in the days of absolute monarchy, Princess Celestia had established a strong educational institution. She believed the better fortified the minds of her ponies, the stronger the walls and will of her nation.

For that reason, she funded the construction of libraries all across Equestria, and the same went doubly so for Canterlot.

On one Friday evening, the hour grew late. Outside, beyond the enchantment-tempered windows of the building, the Moon rose, and stars glittered like a million fireflies. Yet no matter the time of day, these libraries would never shut their doors.

And so on nights like tonight, with no school on the 'morrow, she and Moonstone would never stop reading.

Flipping to a new section of her book, Sunset read aloud, "Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns." Her voice betrayed no more than a whisper. Few and fewer ponies came to read at this dread hour, but she knew from experience if she spoke any louder the librarian would crawl from the woodwork to shush her up.

Eschewing the text in her lap, Moonstone leant over. "What's that?"

"I'm not sure. I think I've heard of it before but I don't remember."

"Well then read it already, I wanna know!"

Sunset nodded, and continued. "Founded by Her Majesty Princess Celestia in the year 531 A.U, this home of learning has represented in Canterlot and Equestria abroad the pinnacle of magical achievement. While many magical academies existed in private form prior to its establishment, none were as successful nor as highly acclaimed as this has come to be in current year of writing. Being as it is designed to teach ponies the study and application of magic, only unicorns are permitted through its golden, ivy-laden gates."

Moonstone's chest fur bristled. "Only unicorns? Laaaame."

Sunset blew a - quiet - raspberry. "Duh! It's called Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, not Celestia's School for Gifted Ponies." Gently, she clunked the side of Gloom's skull. "Besides, how can non-unicorns even learn magic? It's not like I could get into the Wonderbolt Academy or anything."

Moonstone huffed, but otherwise said nothing.

Sunset went on. "The standards for entering said gates are the highest among the nation. Divided into three wings, the school allows for the acceptance of foals, teenagers, and adults alike. To qualify for attendance, any applicants must pass one among a secretive selection of magical exams. In order to ensure results are based purely on raw magical talent, few materials exist outside the school's walls which divulge the examinations' contents. Often, it has been rumored each test is chosen specifically for the individual applicant. Otherwise and in modern times, former students and failed examinees alike have provided testimony to their own testing experiences. See page 297 for additional details."

Moonstone elbowed Sunset's ribs. "Hey, what if you applied? I bet you could totally get in."

To herself, Sunset read the introduction page further, chewing her bottom lip. "I dunno, Gloomy." She tapped her hoof to a lower down paragraph. "It says here only five percent of applicants get accepted. And here." She tapped again. "Only twenty percent of students actually graduate."

This time, it was Moonstone's turn to blow a raspberry.

"Shhhh!"

The librarian seemed to materialize from nowhere. Glowering behind thin, silver-framed glasses, she placed a platinum wingtip to her mouth.

"Sorry," Moonstone whispered. When the librarian turned away, she glanced back to Sunset as a fang-prominent smirk crept across her muzzle. "Are you really gonna tell me you're scared of a litttle number?"

"Five percent is not just a little number. And only twenty percent of that is like, one percent total!"

"Shhhh!"

Sunset huffed.

Gloom narrowed her slitted gaze. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Sunset?"

That earned a roll of Sunset's eyes. "Do I really have to explain statistics to you again? I'm just being realistic."

"And I'm just saying you're acting like a total scaredy cat." Heightening her voice by a hair, so it sounded like she mimicked a cheering crowd, she chanted, "Doooo it, doooo it, doooo it, doooo it!"

Thinking, Sunset rubbed at her fetlock. It was true - the chances of her getting in, let alone graduating were exceptionally low. But when had low chances ever stopped her before?

That thought was all she needed, planting an idea firmly in her brain that nothing short of unquestionable triumph could dislodge. The pieces clicked into place. Celestia banish the stupid numbers. Moonstone was right - she could do this.

Because she was Sunset.

Because she was smart.

Because she was better.

Grinning, Sunset tackled her friend. The filly squeaked, and both laughed as Sunset gave her a rough noogie.

From the shadows, the librarian with her pinched, elderly face rose into view.

"Shhhhhhhh!"

Moonstone and Sunset both turned to look at the librarian.

And blew a double raspberry.

"And stay out! I'll be sending your Head Matron a very stern letter!"

With a startling clamor, the double oaken doors of the library slammed shut. Its sound echoed, bounced and travelled down the craggy, aged stones of the walled-in streets.

Sunset kicked her hoof against the step. It caught on a loose, faded stone brick, and sent it clattering to the path below.

"Stupid librarian. There were only three other ponies there and they weren't even close to us!"

"Do you think we're banned from the library forever?"

Moonstone's voice carried a tone of genuine distress. Sunset smiled, bumping her snout to the filly's cheek for reassurance.

"Nah. You gotta do way worse stuff than that to get banned."

Moonstone's brows furrowed. "How do you know that?"

"Reasons."

Moonstone blew another raspberry, then yawned. Whatever. I guess it's for the best anyway. I'm sleepy."

"Sleepy? How? You're a thestral. Night time is like, your whole thing!" She gestured to the darkened streets and night sky. Lit only by the occasional oil lamp or lantern, much of the streets were obscured by an eerie, low-hanging fog. Any young filly in her right mind would find the prospect of roaming around Old Canterlot at this time petrifying, but none of those fillies were Sunset - or had a thestral for a friend.

"Just 'cause I like the night doesn't mean I don't need sleep, y'know. Besides, you regular ponies wake up in the morning to leave for school, so I have to too."

Sunset harumphed. "Fair."

After that, they started off, back towards the orphanage. With Gloom by her side, lending aid in the form of perfect night vision, and with Sunset's knowledge of the area, no amount of spooky darkness or swirling gray mist could stall their advance.

The lights to the building were dark when they returned. Knocking on the door, Sunset hoped a Matron other than Swan would be up at this time to let them in. Based upon previous experience, however, she knew this would not be the case.

Some moments later, the door's lock unlatched, clicked. The door swung open, revealing a baggy-eyed and frustrated Head Matron Swan.

"Good evening," she droned. The lack of enthusiasm dripped off her every word. "If you two keep staying up this late at the library, I'll be revoking your outside privileges."

Sunset pouted. "But it's a Friday! We don't have any school tomorrow."

Swan sighed, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. "That's not the issue, Sunset. I'm your caretaker and you are both my responsibility. If I can't trust you to return on time, how will I know if something has or has not happened to you? You know Old Canterlot isn't safe at night. Honestly, the only reason I let you two out is because I believe you're capable of defending yourselves."

Moonstone's head drooped. Sunset's face remained unchanged. Nevertheless, they each apologized. "Sorry, Matron Swan."

"Now get in you two. You'll be the trotting dead by dawnbreak. And since you came home late, you two will be helping the other Matrons and I put up Hearth's Warming decorations tomorrow."

"But," Sunset began.

"No wriggling your way out of this! You'll have plenty of time to work on any school assignments you have on Sunday."

"Yes, Matron."

Pushing the door wider, Swan stepped inside. Sunset and Moonstone followed, before leaving to their own rooms.

"Talk to you tomorrow?" whispered Sunset.

Gloom nodded. She turned, then stopped to get Sunset's attention. "Hey, maybe the decorating will be fun. I always used to put up decorations with mom and dad."

Sunset smiled. "I guess. It'll be more fun with you, at least."

Gloom giggled, and the two said their goodbyes.

Sunset went upstairs. Her room lay on the right side of the orphanage and its second floor. Moonstone, after being relocated, had hers on the opposite, and the highest floor there was - the fourth.

Once or twice, Sunset considered petitioning Swan to move Moonstone in with her. The debate raged on like wildfire in her mind for days at a time, before settling down again, until would inevitably resurface.

Ultimately, Sunset decided not to go through with it each time. She liked having a friend around, but she liked her personal space more. It let her have her secrets and special hidden things.

Quiet as a cat, she slipped past her bedroom door, then into bed. The large, wide-mouthed yawn snuck up on her as she crawled beneath the sheets, not realizing how tired she'd truly been. She closed her eyes, and bare breaths later she'd fallen asleep.

On the following morning - closer to afternoon by the time she woke up - Swan had been proven correct. She felt like a zombie.

Opening her eyes took effort. Each blink brought her further awake, but each time she closed her eyes the temptation grew to keep them shut. Finally, after a long while of thinking about returning to sleep and failing, she resolved to get up. She did have work to do after all.

Walking down the stairs, through the carpeted halls and against grayish brown, creaky wooden floorboards, Sunset found Matron Swan in the main room. From end to end, the space had been built large enough to host a small army - small in the most literal case, being for foals. Along the walls and in the corners various mares, fillies, and colts had set to decoration. The same, she knew, went for many other areas throughout the expansive orphanage.

Moonstone, already awake, pinned up strings of garland and cheery holiday lights. When she noticed Sunset she turned and dropped the green wire in her mouth.

"Now where do you think you're going, Missy?" Swan started, but smiled when she noticed Sunset as well. "Ah, there you are."

Grinning, Moonstone flapped over and nipped Sunset on the nose. She squealed, and stumbled back before shoving Gloom, making her tumble onto her back.

Matron Swan, observing this, chuckled. Early on in Sunset's friendship with Moonstone, Swan had many times walked in on such interactions and scolded them for fighting. But as they explained themselves, it became more and more apparent with each event it was simply their way of having fun.

With a hop and a flap, Moonstone flew upwards, then dove in and tackled Sunset to the floor. "Hiiii, Sunset!" she cheered. "You're up late."

"Yeah," Sunset said, grinning, though more groggy and croaky than her friend. "I'm still-" She yawned. "Still kinda tired."

Swan walked over, abandoning the lights and shaking her head. "I did tell you this would happen. You'll wake up soon, though. Moonstone here was just as sleepy when she got up."

"Yeah, but Moon's a bat! She's better at the whole sleeping thing."

"Now Sunset, it's not nice to stereotype."

Moonstone rolled off Sunset's prone body, helping her up with a hoof. "She's right though. Thestrals have shorter but more restful sleep cycles than normal ponies."

"Regardless," said Swan, and brushed fallen strands from the filly's face. "It's not polite to assume, even if that assumption is proven correct. And for that matter, you're just as normal a pony as anyone else. But, now that you're both up, this should all go much quicker. Sunset here has that fancy schmancy unicorn magic of hers." She looked towards Sunset and winked.

At once, Sunset's thoughts returned to the previous night. The name seemed to renew itself in her mind, brighter and bolder than before.

'Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns'.

"Before we continue, I'm sure you're starving, or at least hungry. Let's get some food and drink in you shall we? And since you're lending a helping hoof, you get as many refills of hot chocolate as you'd like."

Sunset's eyes sparkled. "Really? Spiced, too?"

"Of course, just how you like it."

"And marshmellows?"

"And marshmellows."

Gloom giggled. "Is it even hot chocolate if it doesn't have marshmellows?"

"I suppose that depends on your personal preference," Swan said. "Now come on. Moonstone, while I'm with Sunset, why don't you help out Matron Willowbush over there?" She pointed towards the mare, an earth pony colored like springtime fields and flowers. Without magic, and with only one colt to assist her - similarly an earth pony - they struggled to get their wreaths hung up on the ceiling.

"Yes ma'am!" Gloom saluted, and soared over.

Swan led her back into the kitchen, where a massive cauldron sat over a gentle, rolling flame. To most ponies the fire appeared utterly ordinary, but things were different for any pony who knew better, or any unicorn whatsoever. Sunset noticed the shimmering hints of bluish-purple between the blazing fingers, quickly denoting it as enchanted fire similar to the kind she'd conjured when rescuing Moonstone from her bullies. Any enchanted object possessed such a shimmer, colored with the hue of whatever unicorn's aura had cast it.

The Matron pulled a mug from the cabinets, then ladled into it a spoonful of steaming cocoa. After she grabbed various spices from the spice rack - cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, cayenne, and black pepper - which she proceeded to mix into the drink. Last but not least she dumped a packet of mini marshmellows inside, and hoofed it to Sunset.

She sipped, and groaned with pleasure. The silky smoothness of the chocolate, combined with the warm hug and tongue-tingling heat of pepper, made for a near perfect combination. Capped off by the teeny sugary bites of marshmellow and it truly became the perfect winter beverage. If helping out to decorate meant infinite refills of this, she'd start participating every Hearth's Warming there was.

Afterwards she ate breakfast, which Matron Swan had to whip up fresh. It was a comparatively simple affair - a cheesy bell pepper omelette with two nearly burnt strips of haybacon - disgusting to others, but exactly as she wanted it. It filled her up nevertheless, and was not so terrible besides. If she were cooking it though, she might have added more salt.

She, Swan, and Moonstone spent the rest of the day decorating. Ribbons were strewn about, mistletoe hung, wreaths and lights, garland and little Hearth's Warming trees, all found a place somewhere in the Royal Canterlot Orphanage.

You couldn't walk a hoof without bumping into some kind of decor. Truly, Sunset felt bad for whoever hated the holidays.

The holidays were fast approaching, too. Next week signalled the start of Hearth's Warming break, which Sunset welcomed with open hooves. The less easy, boring homework she had to do the better.

Some days later, Sunset's cheer extinguished as reality caught up with her. She knew she was in trouble when Swan called both her and Moonstone into her office.

Thankfully the scolding was a short one. Swan told them to be quiet at the library and behave, to which they agreed. Sunset though received a harsher punishment, this having been far from her first run-in with trouble.

She wound up grounded for the last weekend of school, not too bad all things considered. But Swan wasn't the type to rely on stick-based approaches alone.

"if you behave for the next two weeks," she explained. ""And that means no fights, no arguments, stealing, running, generally causing your typical brand of chaos - and yes, that includes blowing raspberries when you've been told twice to be quiet - you'll get an extra special gift for Hearth's Warming. Or after, but you'll receive it no later than January. Does that sound fair?"

While having many times been named such monikers as 'fireball' or 'she-devil', Sunset was as much a child as anypony else. So obviously, at the prospect of receiving her very own super special holiday gift just for her, she grew unreasonably excited, and agreed immediately.

For the next two weeks, she behaved perfectly, as she'd done earlier in the year before pulling her prank on Tinsel. Not being in school and worrying about annoying hoity toity know-it-all teachers and big stupid bullies made the effort much simpler.

Because, at the end of the day, she knew how to behave. She knew it was better for her if she behaved, but she struggled to. Why should 'authority figures' go unchallenged, even when they were being mean or wrong? Why wasn't it fair to fight back somepony who was fighting her in the first place?

Stupid. It was stupid, and also dumb.

At least she hadn't gotten in trouble for the whole 'ring of fire' thing, though not for lack of trying on Tinsel's part. She lied and lied and lied to every adult who would listen to her, but she nor her cohorts were the only witness. Sunset never directly saw any pony who was at the schoolyard testify to the truth, but she assumed they must have done so in private to prevent any evidential tempering.

In the end, what might otherwise have turned into an endless cycle of 'he said, she said' became an overwhelming tide of testimony in Sunset's favor. She still received a slap on the fetlock - which was dumb - but so did Tinsel and her friends. A much more substantial one at that: detention, and for a solid week straight.

This of course did not endear Sunset any further to those three, but who gave a dragonpucky what they thought? All she had to do was teleport away when they came around, since stupid Tinsel was too weak to teleport like her.

Meanwhile, in the days up to Hearth's Warming, Sunset and Moonstone continued their evening escapades. They did genuinely try not to come home late, but it got so hard when a book really sucked them in. And so, Matron Swan assigned them a Matron to see them in and out of the library safely and on time.

Many books held their attention, as was so often the case. One alone wasn't nearly enough to quell their hungering minds. But one more than any other captured Sunset's imagination: a book which focused solely upon Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

History, politics, courses, students, inner workings, and prominent figures associated or graduated from the school, it left nothing out. Many of Equestria's most powerful magi, spellweavers, and arcanists hailed from that campus' vaunted halls.

Sunset could picture it. Closing her eyes, she saw herself clad in the gilded robes of the Equestrian Magic Society, wielding fire with the same ease she had taking breath. To study old tomes in the search of forgotten knowledge, to research entirely new and unbefore thought of magics, to defend the weak and protect Equestria her home from threats both foreign and domestic, she wanted it all.

And she knew she could have it.

However, fantasizing about her future career as one of the nation's most powerful unicorns - no, the most powerful unicorn - soon gave way to fantasies of a different kind. Hearth's Warming grew closer and closer with each passing day, and she couldn't stand the wait. Her mind ran wild imagining what gift Matron Swan was going to get her.

Sure, it might come in January, but whatever. Hearth's Warming was exciting enough on its own.

Days prior to the big day, she with the other orphans and Matrons set up the tree, a towering thing of dark green pines that made a mare like Swan look small, let alone a filly like her.

Each pony got to pick their own ornament to go on the tree. Moonstone chose a crescent Moon that glittered silver and Sunset a matching Sun that glimmered gold. They made sure to place them right next to each other.

In the nights after, the presents trickled in. One by one, two by two they came. Each night that passed would in the morning bring with it a dazzling new array of boxes, wrapped in patterned paper, topped with bows, wound by ribbons. To each was attached a tag, written on it the name of the intended recipient in permanent marker.

Excitement buzzed in the air, running through the halls like electric currents. However much a foal might dislike the holidays, no pony in their right mind could deny the allure of Hearth's Warming presents.

Hearth's Warming Eve arrived, and the excitement reached a fever pitch. The orphans - including Sunset and Gloom - blabbed about what they'd get this year.

Being in Old Canterlot, and knowing they didn't receive a lot of funding, the gifts were never that spectacular. Yet, every year, they positively rattled with nervous tension to learn what theirs would be.

If Sunset wanted to, she could find out right away. One of the spells she'd taught herself from the library books lent her the ability to see through objects, but she stayed her horn. She'd concluded waiting was more fun than spoiling the surprise early, and having nothing to get excited about on Hearth's Warming Morning.

Waiting for night, though, was miserable. Each hour, each minute, each second to midnight felt like pulling teeth.

Luckily, as with each Hearth's Warming Eve, the Matrons had things for them to do. They made cards, listened to holiday music and audio plays on the record player, or sat around at story time.

Before dinner, the Matrons brought everypony into the dining hall. Across the long table was set out a paper covering, and mountains of sweets.

Sunset, along with Moonstone and all the other foals, gasped. One colt ran over and went to eat some of the gumdrops, but succeeded in only eating one before Matron Piper stopped him.

"Now now, this isn't for you to eat."

The collective 'Awww' could be heard all the way down into Canter Valley.

"Not yet at least!" Swan, smiling, stepped up. "We've gotten a little more funding this year, and we wanted to introduce something new for you all this Hearth's Warming. Has anypony hear heard of gingerbread houses?"

Immediately, an even louder cheer rang from the crowd. Sunset led the charge to the table, but Swan and the other pegasi Matrons blocked them with their wings.

"Hold your griffons, children. I'd like to keep this as orderly as possible. You will be assigned in teams of three - one unicorn, one pegasus, and one earth pony, to keep things fair. Or, if you wish, you may work on your own. Who your partner is is up to you. Everpony will be given two hours to complete their house, When the hour is up, I and the Matrons will look at each one and pick the top three best houses. Whoever wins gets a special prize, but you get to eat your house regardless of whether or not you win."

The cheer rose again, and rapid talking rapidly filled the dining hall space. Ponies paired off with one another or broke away to work on their own. Sunset and Moonstone, already beside each other, teamed up. They found a colt willing to join their team, and raced towards the seats.

"What do you think we should make?" the colt asked.

Older than either of them, with an unassuming orange-tan coat and dull emerald mane, he'd never especially caught Sunset's attention. He had a sister named Daisy something. Or something Daisy. Sunset didn't remember or care.

"Whatever makes us win. I wanna get the top spot!"

Gloom pondered. "We should do something really big, then. What about... Canterlot Castle?"

"Perfect!" She turned to the colt. "Is that okay with you, Pines?"

"Timber. And that's cool, I guess."

"Awesome."

"But wait," Moonstone said. "I don't remember what it looks like."

"Hold on," Sunset said. "Matron Swan!" she shouted. "Can we use a reference to make our gingerbread house?"

"Yes, Sunset, you may."

Sunset grinned. "Okay, get as much stuff for building as you can. I'll be back in a flash."

And in a flash she disappeared, a moment later appearing in her room. She hoofed through her shelf of leased library books, and found her one on the history of Canterlot. She grabbed it, and teleported back to the table.

In order to win, Sunset explained, they had to go big, and put in lots of detail. Fortunately for them, they had her, and also photographs.

Wall by gingerbread wall, line by line of frosting mortar, they constructed the foundation of the palace. Sunset said it had to be big, so they measured it six hooves across. That gave each of them two hooves' worth of space to work with, although Sunset shuffled them around based on what needed working on by whom the most.

After the foundations, they worked on the towers. Roofs followed those, then the various gates and side entrances, including the front mote.

Last came the details. They added icing where felt most appropriate, but otherwise used the various candies and colored frosting. They weren't gonna win with just gingerbread and white icing, Sunset told them. It needed color, contrast, and pop.

"Don't you think we might run out of time?" asked Timber.

"Yeah. I think it'll be fine if we just do it up like a regular gingerbread house."

Sunset shook her head. "No no no, that's too simple! We won't ever win with something like that."

Moonstone and Timber glanced at one another. Sunset bowled past them, and returned to working on the castle.

She began by adding faint smears of green frosting for the grass, dusted with green sugar and sprinkles. Following her example, her teammates joined in. They included blue icing for the mote waters, gumdrops for any roof ridges, snapped and sharpened candy canes for any spikes or portcullises, and everything else under Celestia's Sun. Timber and Moonstone gave suggestions, but Sunset disregarded most of them unless they were actually good.

If they wanted to win, they had to do things her way.

Throughout construction, Sunset glanced at the other teams - her competition. A few looked rather nice, but nothing even approached the skill and grandiosity of their house.

The teams didn't worry her. The clock did.

For as much help as being a talented unicorn was, it wasn't enough. Too late Sunset realized she'd gone too big, but they couldn't start over now.

The two hour marker arrived. They stopped, and Sunset looked over her work. She'd gotten so close, but not quite close enough.

Still, she assured her teammates they'd totally win first place. Yeah, maybe a fourth of the castle was completely barren of anything except frosting, but pish posh. Theirs was still the best.

"Alright everypony!" Swan announced. "The Matrons and I have looked over all the houses you have to offer, and might I say it's a mighty impressive lot! But as you know, only three teams will get their special prizes. So for the first winners of the night, third place goes to..."

The hall fell deathly silent.

Swan went to a group at the table's bottom end. They'd made a typical gingerbread house, albeit well executed. "Snowflake, Banjo, and Riverdance, for simplicity done sublimely." The team cheered, high-hoofing each other. "Second place goes to..."

She walked further up. This team had built a small recreation of the orphanage. "Cherry, Plum, and Fairy. What a beautiful choice. The Matrons and I appreciate the gesture immensely. Now." Sunset held her breath. "First place goes to..."

She rounded the table's corner, making it over to Sunset's side. She, Timber, and Moonstone shared fertive glancees as her heart thumped against her chest.

Before Swan could reach them, she stopped. "Herbal, Blossom, and Comet, for their stunning crystal tower. What an ingenious way to use rock candy. Absolutely stunning, and you certainly deserve the top billing."

Sunset's heart fell, so hard it nearly crashed through the floor. Dimly, she heard Swan say something about 'honorable mentions', but she didn't care.

Tears welled in her vision. Before anypony could see her cry, she pushed away from the table and ran.

Moonstone tried to reach out to her, but she slapped the hoof away.

Heat and salt burned at her eyes. Blindly she raced through the halls, wondering where she should go.

Her room wasn't an option. Swan or Moonstone would expect her to be there.

Chest pounding, her hooves thumped against the carpet, and carried her up the stairwell. She turned, ran some more, to the second level, the third, only stopping at the fourth.

This floor was off limits, meant for the Matrons. She didn't care, though. Screw their stupid rules.

Rounding a corner, at the end of the hallway, she found a large room. A round rug had been placed at its center, atop that a long table and chairs of an older era's design. She guessed it must have been a meeting and rec room.

At the opposite wall - the largest length-wise - simmerd a glowing fireplace. Sunset felt magnetized by its warmth, and drew close. Before she did though, she shut the door and locked it with her magic.

Sniffling, she sat down. She curled up, wrapping her tail around herself and placing her snout between her hooves.

Stupid Matron Swan. It wasn't fair. Hers was the best. Hers. Just 'cause she didn't finish it didn't make it not the best.

For a long time, she sat there, wallowing. Wetness rolled down her cheeks in gentle beads, but she kept quiet. She wanted to be alone.

Eventually, when crying tired her out, her eyelids drooped. She closed them, registering but not really internalizing the heaviness in her limbs.

Rather than continue to think about the unfairness of it all, she chose to just not think. It was easier, and soon, she fell asleep.

Knock knock knock.

With a jolt, Sunset jerked to awakeness. Her ears perked, swiveling towards the sound. It took a second to process what it had been, but when she understood, she ignored it.

Knock knock knock.

'Go away', Sunset thought.

"Sunset, is that you in there?"

She said nothing.

"Please, open the door, sweetling."

"No."

Outside the door, Swan sighed. "Sunset, I know you're upset, but Moonstone is worried about you, and for that matter you're not supposed to be up here."

Who cares?"

"I would like to think you might. She's your friend, Sunset-"

"I meant being up here! You didn't pick me even though mine was the best, so why should I not come up here even though you've told us not to?"

"You know exactly why. Don't be foalish."

"I am a foal."

The knob rattled. "Sunset, I'm serious. Open the door, or you're grounded for a week. We can talk about this."

Sunset huffed. Lighting her horn, she unlocked the door.

"Thank you."

Swan came over, and sat down with Sunset. Noticing the wet stains on her cheeks, her frown deepend as she brushed them aside. "Have you been crying?"

"No."

"I'm sorry that you lost. For what it's worth I thought what you and your friends made was gorgeous."

"But."

"But," she sighed. "It wasn't finished."

"Still the best one, though," Sunset mumbled. Muzzle buried in her hooves, she stared at the rolling flame, avoiding Swan's gaze.

"Your team did win the honorable mention."

"Useless. Who cares. Not like I get a prize. And now that I acted up I won't even get the special gift you told me about."

Sunset's voice broke. At that realization, she struggled not to cry all over again.

Swan leant over, wrapping her up in her wings. "Oh, honey. I think I can make an exception."

Sunset kept quiet, listening to the beat of her heart and the crackle of burning wood. Swan said nothing as well, stroking her downy feathers along Sunset's back.

Eventually, Sunset couldn't bear the silence. She hated when quiet went on for too long, especially with another pony around.

"How long did I sleep for?"

Swan stopped her brushing. "A few hours. Everypony is asleep now. We looked in your room first, then every room after that but couldn't find you. We worried you might have run away, but the front doors were locked and Matron Mayflower said you hadn't left behind any traces of teleportation magic. I opted to look up here, and figured you were inside given the locked door, which Mayflower confirmed. I... figured you could use the alone time, however."

"Thanks," Sunset whispered.

"Of course."

Swan resumed her stroking, and Sunset continued to stay quiet.

"It's almost midnight," Swan said. "Perhaps you should get going to bed now, don't you think?"

Sunset looked up. "I wanna apply for Celestia's School."

Swan, briefly pausing her wing, cocked her head. "Celestia's school?"

"Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. I read about it in a book, and I wanna apply."

"Do you really think this is the time for this conversation?"

Sunset stood, moving away from the Matron. "I wanna go."

"Sunset-"

"I wanna go!" Sunset, glaring, stamped her hoof. "Enrollment is free anyway! Why do you care?"

"Because it's not easy to qualify, Sunset! And after this little outburst of yours because you lost some gingerbread house-building contest, how am I supposed to know you'll take it well if you don't get in? Nineteen of twenty unicorns who apply-"

"Don't get in, I know! I read the book! I'm not stupid!"

"I'm not saying your stupid, I'm saying you're sensitive, and for that matter you're incredibly undisciplined. You're bright, you're talented, you're one of the most powerful unicorns I've seen at the orphanage, but that does not a passing exam make. You need to prove to me you can focus properly rather than doing whatever you'd like, and that you can handle the sort of pressure that school will provide. Do you think it's all peaches and cream once you get in? No. Once you step into those halls, your free time all but disappears."

"I don't care."

"Well you should. Especially if you care anything for me, or Moonstone. I-" Swan gave a long and deep exhale, rubbing at her temples. "Look. All I'm saying is they're going to expect a lot from you, and what happens if you don't get in?"

"I'll try again."

"And if you fail."

"I'll do it again. And again and again and again until I qualify. They allow everypony from fillies to mares. I don't care how long it takes. I wanna go."

Matron Swan shook her head. In her blueberry eyes, turned purple by the red and yellow flames, Sunset saw in them a familiar sorrow. "You're really set on this, aren't you?"

Sunset nodded. "You can make it my gift, to enroll me."

"I've already bought your gift."

"Then give it to Moonstone."

Tears, faint but unmistakeable, formed at the edge of Swan's eyes.

Sunset had never seen her cry, but before she had the chance to process it Swan swooped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Okay. I'll enroll you.

"Thank you, Matron Swan."

Against her, Sunset felt Swan's chest lurch. "I love you, sweetling. Above anything else, I want you to understand that. I know I'm not your mother. I know I can never be your mother. But I love you."

Sunset, startled, muttered out a small but genuine, "I... I love you, too."

It was long moments before Swan released. She pulled back, got to her hooves, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Nevertheless, she smiled, or at least tried to.

"Come now, Sunshine. It's time to get you in bed."

Author's Note

Author's Note:
The first step is taken.

Chapter 7: Can You Hear Me?

Three days.

For three days Sunset searched, and nothing. Page after page of musty paper that made her cough on every turn. When would it end? When she'd grown old and gray? When the Sun died out? The heat death of the universe?

Groaning, she slammed her forehead into the crook of the open registry tome.

Why the registry wasn't preserved, Sunset could only wonder. Then again, this edition was from some three years ago, and Canterlot updated its census every year. Why bother to maintain something so trivial? It wasn't like it was falling apart, either. Enchantments saw to it the pages would not age or weather.

They really ought to cast a dust-repellent spell on the damn thing, though.

What Sunset really missed was the internet. Answers at her fingertips. Solutions drawn in seconds' time. But internet didn't exist in Equestria, so she had to try and find her old friend 'the old-fashioned way'.

Ugh. Old-fashioned. Traditions. Who needed 'em?

Applejack, probably. Good thing she wasn't here.

Noticing her candle's fire had dipped low, she fed it a sliver of magic. The flame consumed it eagerly, flaring up with incandescent pride.

Around her, pitch black gave way to shadowy yellow gloom. She blinked, squinting to see through the rejuvenated light.

The archives of the Royal Palace surrounded her, towering some fifteen stories high. Each of those fifteen stories measured thirty hooves from top to bottom, and another thirty hooves across.

It was not visible from the outside, however. Rather, this section of the castle had been built into the ground.

Rows upon rows of books, tomes, and records lined the walls of each circular level. Between them opened up passages, which sprawled in neat little matrices for what could be as far as miles. Certainly, it encompassed the entire underside of the castle.

Sunset smiled, remembering Twilight's reaction at the secret section of the Royal Library.

That place had nothing on this.

Sunset sincerely hoped Celestia never divulged the details of the archive to her alicorn friend. There was reason for genuine concern she might die of book-induced heart attack upon learning of its existence.

But there were other reasons. Most of the information here pertained to records keeping, but not all records were so mundane as census registries. Dark, corrupting magics and other knowledges best left buried dwelt within these hallowed halls. Locked with spell upon spell of highly advanced, self-defensive key-layers they sat in black umbra, never to see the light of day. Not even Princess Celestia herself had the permission needed to access those grim branches.

A pony could, with enough time and talent, break through. Twilight and Starlight could no doubt, if they put their minds to it. Any of the Princesses could as well. It would take years though - decades, even - without the exact correct combination of spell-locks and key words.

One wrong step, and poof!

At best, you'd be zapped straight to the dungeons. At worst - and if you'd gotten far enough - you'd be vaporized on the spot.

Sunset shuddered, to think about it.

Some ponies believed the powerful evils of the world influenced the areas around them. Locked up they could be restrained, but the hateful, sinister energies remained. They'd reach out, influence what they could in their tiny, minute ways. How far that influence reached depended on the power of the magic, or the intelligence behind it.

Put bluntly, Celestia had buried the archives deep underground for a reason.

A sudden chill crept along Sunset's spine, and she swore she saw shadows move on the wall. But, quick as they'd come, she dismissed them. She was safe, or else Celestia would never have agreed to let her down here. She was only imagining things.

For the next few hours, she continued to pour through the registries. She had to be certain she wasn't missing anything, so she went down each page, name by name.

She'd hoped she might be able to find Moonstone, or the parents who'd adopted her. Little luck in that, though, she realized. Pony families rarely passed on similar names and surnames. Pinkie's family stood as the sole exception Sunset could think of. Even Applejack's had differences.

"Moonstone Gaze. Moonstone Gleam. Moonstone Glide. Moonstone Glow. Moonstone Gorget. But no Moonstone Gloom."

Sun damn it all. She rubbed at her temples fiercely, swearing she'd given herself a migraine. The fact five whole-ass ponies existed in Canterlot all with the name 'Moonstone G-something' was enough to make her loathe Equestrian naming conventions.

It did make her wonder if there were other 'Sunset Shimmers' around. Surely there must be, right?

Pony names were quite literally as variable as verbs and nouns in the Equestrian language, however. There might be a thousand Sunset Shimmers spread across the nation, or there might be dozens. Just as likely, she might be the only one in existence, before and after her time.

Whatever. She just wanted to find her friend.

She yawned, wondering exactly how long she'd been awake now. She... thought she remembered eating breakfast.

She couldn't deny the likelihood her exhaustion had her making mistakes. Maybe she'd misread one of the moonstone names, given how blurred her vision was. Or, in that same vain, she'd managed to skip past it.

Again, she thought to the conveniences of human society. Internet oh internet. If only Equestria had comparable technologies.

Wait.

Wait wait wait wait wait.

The lightbulb went off in her head. She jumped to alertness, and cast a flash spell to light the entire room.

There. On one of the desks near hers, she spotted it.

A phone.

A shitty dial-up phone, granted, but a phone regardless. She'd completely forgotten Equestria had those.

She raced halfway to grabbing it before she stopped, realizing she needed to actually know the number first before calling. That, fortunately, was far simpler a task than the one she'd been fighting. Phones were a rarity on this side of the portal. The number of ponies who had one in their homes likely numbered in the tens. No, it was institutions that had the privilege of telecommunication.

She swept aside the registry, and cast a spell of finding. It reasoned that if Earth had phonebooks, Equestria did too.

A few levels above her, she spotted a faint glow, shimmering in the same color as her magic. She took hold of it, eased it carefully from the shelf, and brought it down. She opened the slim book, amused to find the pages yellow, and searched.

An hour later, she found it.

By the phone, she punched in the number, hit the call button, and waited.

It buzzed for several long moments. The longer it droned on, the more Sunset feared she'd not get an answer.

Then, the phone clicked.

"Hello?" she asked. "Yes, hi. Is this the Royal Canterlot Orphanage?"

"Okay, great! Yes, you can help me. My name? Sure. Sunset Shimmer."

"Yes, so. I'm calling to ask if you have any documentation on orphans that have already been adopted. Specifically, from about, uhhh. Ten? Sorry, eleven years ago. Anything like that?"

"Oh thank Celestia. Okay, I'm looking for whoever adopted 'Moonstone Gloom'."

"Thank you so much. Just to make sure I have the names right, that's Terracotta Glaze and Sirius Star, correct? Okay, okay, great. Again, thank you so so much. You have no idea what this means to me."

"Why did I ask? Ah, yeah. I used to be an orphan there, actually. She and I - Moonstone I mean - were friends. I'm back in the city for a little while and trying to track her down. Big city, y'know? Yeah. Hahaha. Okay, again, thanks so much. You too. Bye."

Grinning ear to ear, Sunset slid the phone into its holster, then whooped and cheered, dancing on her hindlegs."

At about the same time, Starlight teleported behind her.

The suddeness of it shocked Sunset something fierce. Though she'd never screamed when startled, she had a tendency to jolt, then freeze, before eventually finding herself able to move. She scowled, and got ready to bore white-hot holes into Starlight's eyes.

The look of concern made her face soften. "Hey," she said.

"Hey. You've been down here for like, basically the whole day. You even skipped lunch and breakfast."

"I was researching."

"Uh huh." Starlight didn't appear impressed by the explanation.

"But," Sunset assured, grinning. She grabbed Sunset by the withers, and shook her frantically. "I'm done!"

"You are?"

"Yes!" Sunset released her grip. "I couldn't find her directly, but I found her parents - her adoptive ones, I mean. The orphanage had the records and gave me their access."

"That's great! When do you plan on going? Not tonight I assume. You look horrible."

"Do I?"

"I could show you with a mirror spell, but I think I'll spare you the image. You look less like a pony and more like a ghoul. But, like, a hot ghoul."

Sunset flushed, then smirked, punching Starlight's shoulder. "Shut up. Anyway, I'm hungry. Is it dinner time yet?"

"Close enough."

"Then let's eat." Sunset teleported herself from the botom floor of the archive to the top. Starlight followed. "I'll need a lot of energy for tomorrow."

Bright cobble streets laid beneath Sunset's hooves. All around her stood buildings built from limestone, marble, and other white rocks, topped so often by lilac and lavender roofs. Where Old Canterlot's homes and buildings were all blocks and straight edges, much of the construction here swooped and twirled, reminding Sunset much of the spiral in a unicorn's horn. Given unicorns comprised the majority of the city's population, she doubted the choice in design was unintentional.

This architecture rang familiar to Sunset, but it did not ring of home. She had not grown up here. In fact, she'd spent much of her time growing up despising this place, and High Canterlot most of all. Even during her days at Celestia's School, she preferred to reside on campus than explore the city.

Now, as an adult, that animus had lessened. Bitterness remained, though it simmered away in a mild, reasonable manner. Rationally, she knew she had no reason to feel any negativity or ill towards this tier's residents, but.

Well, rationality had never been her strongest virtue.

Starlight walked beside her as they turned through the populated streets, past kitchy cafes, gourgeoise shops, and the odd street performer. Middle Canterlot without doubt had street life, but it was not the same as the lower tier.

"Remind me why we're here again? I thought the address was in Old Canterlot."

"It is, but I want to get them some gifts. Like a kind of olive branch. It's been years, and considering we broke off on poorer terms, I figure it can't hurt."

Starlight nodded, and they continued. Sunset kept her eye out for more quaint, homely storefronts. Whether the sense was true or false, she felt things bought from older, more hole in the wall type places held better offerings.

When she saw one building with red clay shingles, faded wooden shutters, and a small wooden door, she knew she'd found the right place. Pausing briefly at the windows she peered inside, to get an idea of their stock. Satisfied she went in, the door jingling a friendly chime.

"Good afternoon!"

The voice came from behind a shelf, female and elderly. After some shuffling, the mare stepped out, colored like mint and chocolate. On her slender snout perched librarian's glasses, and around her neck she wore a small white tie.

Sunset smiled. "Afternoon, miss. You've got a lovely shop here, if I might say."

"Why thank you dearie. It's a small affair, but I get by. You'll not find better quality for cheaper prices." She winked, and nodded her head towards the stocked shelves. "Need help finding anything?"

"No thank you. Just looking around for a gift."

"Wonderful, wonderful. Well, if you need assistance with anything at all, give me a holler. I'll be here."

Sunset dipped her head in acknowledgement, slipping between the shelves. Starlight followed, looking around as wooden boards creaked under their hooves.

They passed all manner of knick knacks. From music boxes to famous fiction novels, wooden figurines, antique jewelry and vinyl records. Plenty of good choices presented themselves, but most lay outside of Sunset's price range, and she wanted something simpler anyhow.

Looking to see if they had any food or drink, Sunset found what she'd been looking for. In her teal magic she pulled down a bottle of aged red wine, a box of assorted chocolates, and a second box of marzipan, made and colored to look like the cutie marks of famous historical magi.

Starlight snickered behind her.

Sunset raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing! Just seems a bit early to be asking her out as your Hearts and Hooves pony."

"Oh ha ha."

Rolling her eyes, Sunset went to the counter.

"Find what you were looking for?"

"Sure did. You've got some great stuff here, honestly. Might come back another time."

"Please do."

The kindly mare smiled, taking the items Sunset brought with her. After calculating the price, Sunset fished the bits from her saddlebag and slid them over the counter.

"Pleasure doing business with you," the mare said. "Whoever your friend is, they're very lucky. Mare like you is quite the catch!" She winked.

Sunset turned crimson, stammering. "It's not like that, I swear!"

"Don't worry." The mare grinned, lowering her voice to a hush. "Your secret's safe with me."

Groaning, as Starlight tittered quietly behind her, Sunset went out the door.

"Now we go to Old Canterlot," she said. "It'll be after lunch by the time we get there, I think."

"Mh. Lunch. I could use a bite to eat right about now."

Sunset shook her head. "I've got some place better in mind."

Instantly, Starlight perked. "The market again?"

"Nope! You'll just have to wait and see."

"No fair."

Sunset tossed her a sidelong smirk. "Consider it payback for teasing me about the chocolates."

"And the wine."

Sunset rolled her eyes again. "Yes. And the wine."

It took near two hours of walking to reach the lower tier. Recognizing they were close to where they'd been some days earlier, Sunset took the lead, guided by familiar old landmarks.

When she reached the Orphanage, she stopped, observing the building for several long, quiet moments. Beside her, Starlight appeared momentarily confused, before noticing the signage on the building's front.

Their eyes met briefly. Starlight said nothing, allowing Sunset her time of silence. She smiled, and returned her attention to the building.

It looked the same as she'd left it, a thousand lifetimes ago. A part of her wanted to walk right up those steps, knock on the door, and apologize to Swan for everything she'd done.

But she couldn't. She had other things to attend first.

Sighing, she continued on their trot. Beyond the alley, the streeplamp that flickered even during the daytime, they passed old alchemist and magic shops. Several had closed, for good or the time being. Some had gone under new management.

Seeing them all, remembering her little schemes from back then, she couldn't help but snicker. Starlight looked at her oddly, wanting deathly to ask for explanation. This only made her laugh harder.

Before the point where they'd start heading to Sunset's old school, she took a different turn. It led away from the housing, closer to the market. The presence of manicured hedges and pretty yellow string lights - off at this time of day - announced they'd arrived.

Sunset looked for that old favorite of hers, on the right side of the street, six businesses down. She couldn't wait for a taste of their sweet, savory, red as sin tomato bisque. Served with hoofmade sourdough and topped by fresh basil, it could warm a pony up from the inside better than anything short of spiced cocoa.

Her heart fell, when she saw the building.

"This the place?"

"No," Sunset admitted. "It's gone."

Big Yam's Cafe was nowhere to be seen. A new restaurant had appeared in its stead, but not one Sunset knew.

"I'm sorry."

Sunset sighed. "It's whatever. We might as well eat here anyways."

She was glad at least to find they'd not ditched the outdoor seating. Today, with the Sun out and gentle warm, breeze light and airy with a clear blue sky above, a pony couldn't ask for better weather.

Beneath an unfolded green umbrella, she sat, Starlight across. Some moments later a stallion appeared, tan of coat and white of mane, bearing a spiffy waiter's uniform.

Sunset saw the menu was quite similar to the previous. Though, cafes often served similar foods. She ordered the tomato bisque with the fresh, hoof-squeezed lemonade, and hoped it might be half as good as Big Yam's.

It wasn't.

Or, at the very least, it wasn't the same. The bisque was orange, not red. More salted than peppered. The sourdough was softer, but not as sour, and instead of basil they served it with thyme and rosemary. Were it not for the context she'd have been perfectly satisfied with the meal.

Instead, she left with her stomach as heavy as her heart.

She shouldn't have been as upset by this turn of events as she was. Silly, stupid emotions. She repeated to herself restaurants often lived short lives, but it eased her little.

Downtrodden, and on the suggestion of Starlight, they ventured to the nearby public park. Sunset remembered coming here once or twice in her orphanage days. The Matrons wanted to ensure their charges got a healthy dose of nature and Sunlight.

Mostly even of ground, the area stretched on for some miles like a carpet of emerald. Populating the terrain were trees of hardy variety - oaks, elms, maples, and pines. Flowers and bushes tended to by gardeners of the city district's employ provided a needed pop of color beyond the majority greens and browns.

Residents and visitors mingled in small to large groups. She saw several parents with their foals, and smiled to herself. Unlike her old playground, this place hadn't changed a bitt, and for that she found herself pleased.

It would have made a perfect picnic spot. As it was, they used it to pass the time and relax.

They spent their hours traveling the paths, packed hard from decades of hoof-traffic. On a few occasions Sunset took them off-road to see old sights, or Starlight to witness unfamiliars.

Home to placid lakes, little glades, and dens for smaller critters like rabbits and birds, the relative wildness of the park surprised Starlight. Wondering how such a place could exist up in the colder, less kind elevation of Equestria's capitol, Sunset explained the history. Although the council for Old Canterlot struggled to fund what it needed, this park represented something of a pride for the area. Sunset had been too young to understand it, but with fewer sources of high-income economic activity, the populace found care and defended fiercely their historical ties.

The park was one such thing, like the Royal Orphanage and public libraries. Constructed on the Princess' orders early in the city's history, she'd been responsible for its upkeep and reputation. Rumors told the parameters and appearance of the park had been built with Celestia's explicit words in mind, either as a recapturing of the wilds from Equestria's previous capital, or perhaps something far more ancient.

Sunset had never asked, because she'd never especially cared. Though, she suspected the latter. The park wasn't at all reminiscent of the old capitol's wilds, what eventually became the Everfree Forest.

There was too much a variety of trees. Too many flowers. Too many fields that made Sunset think they'd have been open plains if not for the park's constrictive perimeter.

It was a snapshot of ancient Equestria, Sunset was certain. A memory preserved by the mind of an eternal, recreated upon the wishes of that same mind.

Sunset closed her eyes, and beyond the black pictured the front of Big Yam's Bistro at noon. Sun shining above. Ponies in seats, chatting, as the titular Big Yam himself came around and served his customers directly.

She wondered if Celestia came here often. She wondered, had she the powers of an absolute ruler, if she'd preserve those memories too.

Most of all, she wondered if it was healthy.

Hours later, and reddish dawnlight filtered through the darkened trees. Higher up pale gold kissed the horizon on a backdrop of pink sky, scattered across it streaking amber clouds.

Starlight gave a lopsided grin, one with which Sunset had become irritatingly well-acquainted with. "Hey Sunset, loook, it's sunset."

"Mhm."

"Must be a sign of good luck, don't you think."

Despite herself, Sunset grinned back. "Shut up and let's get going."

The return trot towards residential took less than an hour. Stars twinkled faint, and Luna's Moon had just begun to peer down as Celestia's Sun had, in turn, dipped out of sight.

Sunset glanced back at the streetsign, the number on the house's front, and finally the slip of paper held in her magic. Confirming the address, she breathed in and stepped onto the porch step.

The home had little in the way of lawn or patio. It had been built like much of the other housing in lower Canterlot - diminutive, tight, long, and narrow. 'Shotgun style', the humans called it. She didn't know the term Equestrians used.

But, the owners had made the best of the restrictive space. What they could comfortably squeeze in to the concrete porch was dominated by pottery, some glazed and others plain. Planters lined the windows, filled with flowers. Any doubts she might not have the correct address vanished the moment she saw amongst them shocks of Moonstone Bloom. Against the rustic red of the clay and warm shine of sunset, their comforting blue glow seemed even more breathtaking.

She breathed in deep. Starlight beside her, wicker basket held between and in it gifts, she knocked.

Behind the door, floorboards creaked. Each hoofstep made her heartbeat quicken. They grew softer as they came closer. Then, as the lock engaged, Sunset's throat tightened.

The door swung open.

The bulky frame of a large stallion greeted her. Muzzle like a blok, his short, mussy mane and tail called to mind the color of bricks. He was certainly built like one.

His orange eyes passed over the mares, and an easy smile crept on his face. "Evenin', folks," he said, all bass and rumble, but tinged with the ghost of rural twang. Briefly, he noted the gift basket between them. "New neighbors?"

Sunset shook her head, smiling back. "No. I'm a friend of your daughter's. Moonstone Gloom?"

He nodded. "Swell. Why don'tchall two come in. Better'a talk there."

"Who is it, honey?"

A voice called from inside the house, also male, though lighter in pitch.

"Friends 'a Moony's!"

He stepped back, ushering them inside. "I'm Terracotta Glaze, fer the record. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," said Sunset, and shook his hoof. She gave him her name, and Starlight after.

Once their hooves met carpet, the door shut behind them. What Sunset presumed to be the other voice's owner entered the hallway. A thestral, she noted, with black, silver-flecked hair and deep purple fur.

Terracotta introduced the stallion as his husband, Sirius Star, then led them to the kitchen and dining room. Like the rest of the house, it radiated warmth, all red carpets, wooden floors, brown and orange walls.

They offered Starlight and Sunset seat at the table, fit for a small family. Upon the polished brown surface sat a hoof-crafted vase with Moonstone Bloom inside, at its center. Sunset took her place at the bottom, Starlight to the right side's end.

Terracotta contented himself opposite of Sunset. "So, what's that there basket ya got?"

She set it down on the table, slipping from it bottle and box. "Wine and chocolates. Just some gifts."

"Woah-ho now, you a friend of my daughter's, or a 'friend'?" He laughed, a booming sound that rattled the framework. Sirius chortled beside him, Starlight joining in.

Heat lashed Sunset's cheeks, and her nostrils flared.

As the laughter settled, Sirius caught his breath and nudged a wither leftwards, towards the kitchen. "I was cooking up dinner, if you two would like to stay."

"Sounds wonderful," Starlight said, and Sunset agreed. Nodding, Sirius returned to his kitchen post, out of sight.

"So how is it you and Moony know each other?" Cotta asked.

At that moment Sirius returned. Tucked beneath his wings he carried two wooden bowls of steaming stew, setting each down in front of Sunset and Starlight. He left, fetched two more for him and Terracotta, and finally some glasses and a pitcher of water. When everypony was seated, Sunset resumed.

"Well, it was a long time ago," she betrayed. "She and I lived for a couple years at the Royal Orphanage."

"Ahh. Yes, sure was a time ago. And what was yer name again, say?"

"Sunset Shimmer. We were kinda the only friends we had there."

"Interesting," Star mentioned. "I don't recall her ever mentioning that name, but she was always the quieter type."

Sunset's smile twitched. It took all her strength to maintain it. "Oh, yeah." She laughed, manufactured. "I remember. Say, is she around at all, or coming home from work anytime soon?"

Terracotta shook his head. "Oh no, she ain't been here for 'bout a year. Left for Manehattan to stake it out on 'er own."

Sunset's heart dropped. "Ah. Well." She made the effort to smile brighter. "Give her my regards, if you get the chance. I'd like to see her again sometime."

"Sure can do. And now, what's this wine you got here?"

Terracotta picked up the bottle, turning it over.

"Just a vintage red. Here, let me get it for you." Sunset politely took it from Cotta's grasp, and popped the cork with her magic. "Got any wine glasses?"

Sirius nodded, left and returned with four.

They spent the evening chatting, dining. The two stallions and Starlight nursed their wine.

Sunset guzzled hers.

By nine, with the bowls empty and bottle nearly drained, Sunset stood on shaking legs. "This was lovely," she said, lying. "But we should probably get going."

"Sure you don't want to stay for dessert? Sirius asked.

"No thanks. Full enough as it is, haha." Again, she lied, though only in part. It wasn't food she was full of.

Starlight gave her a look. Sunset ignored it.

Back on the porch, they gave their goodbyes. Sunset shook hooves, thanked them, did all the proper, polite curtsies, and fought the urge to smash one of those pots to fucking pieces.

The door closed, and Sunset turned on her heel, marching ahead and not giving a shit whether Starlight followed or not. For a moment her drunkeness threatened to topple her, but she managed to stay upright.

Starlight trailed in silence, her lips pinched into a thin line. She said nothing, but Sunset knew what she was thinking, and resented it.

Rather than walk the rest of the way, they simply teleported to the castle. Spell wards prevented them from teleporting directly inside, but better to slovenly stumble through the palace gates than half of Canterlot.

"Are you okay?" Starlight asked.

"Yeah. Fine."

"You sure-"

"Yes," she snapped. "Stop bothering me about it."

Starlight said nothing.

"I'm going to the archives. Goodnight."

Sunset turned the corner, not sparing a glance back.

She stood in front of the archive door. The entrance was attached to the palace only nominally, separated by a courtyard and several flights of stairs into the earth.

Without thinking, she slid her horn into the socket. To her surprise, it clicked, and the doors creaked open, acting upon their own magically enforced will. Either Celestia had never revoked her horn signature from years past, or she'd seen it well to reinstate the permission in light of Sunset's presence.

She sighed, stepping in to the darkness. Gradually, as the doors shut behind her, the candles flicked on, pair by pair. When she'd put between them and herself enough distance, they flickered out.

At the end of the hallway another door stood, this one of old wood and older iron. She undid the latch, and entered to the smell of stale air, paper, and ancient candlewax. The unique bouquet eased her, a familiar friend and, right then, the only friend she had.

She needed to read, to distract herself. Silence gave way to thoughts, and the thoughts she had now were not the sort she wanted to dwell on.

In the true archives, she had to activate her horn to see, or elsewise manually light the candles. Other than the various wards and spell-locks, Celestia forbade enchantments of any sort be used. Idle magics could be pieced apart, and influenced by the darker forces deep within.

Down several floors, weaving through countless passages lined from top to bottom with dusty, cobwebbed tomes, she located a section on ancient Equestrian history. Here, the shadows seemed thicker, almost viscous. Her fur stood on end, and the light of her horn penetrated scarce more than four hooves ahead.

She brushed past the feelings, and searched for a good read. One text stood out, as tall as she was and one hoof thick. It documented not Equestria, but the kingdom of ancient Griffonstone, when the griffons had been at the peak of their power.

For how long she read, she didn't know. She didn't bother to track the time that passed, nor did she care to.

But, eventually, lateness took upon her its heavy toll. The faint sting in her eyes, the heaviness of her lids told she should consider sleep. She ignored it and continued on.

It was only when the words blurred and she found herself reading the same passage again and again to understand it she gave in. Yawning, she stood and slid the book back in place.

Behind her, something fell with a hard thud. She jumped, froze, finally managed to turn around.

A book had fallen from the opposite wall, splayed open from cover to cover, face down. She plucked it up, and slid it back in place.

As she did, she spied movement in the corner of her vision. She jerked her head its direction, but saw nothing.

Then, she saw it.

An eye, blazing ice blue, its pupil slit, staring from the darkness.

She stumbled back, but as she blinked it disappeared. Chills raced along her spine, up and down, and the furs on her neck prickled. Heart pounding, she made her way up the stairs, assuring herself it was nothing.

She was tired. She could barely see to begin with. She'd had a stressful day, and was just imagining things.

Part running, part walking, she reached the top level.

And as she stepped through the door to leave, Sunset swore she heard laughter.

Author's Note

And thus, the curtains fall upon our first act.

Wonder what that eye belongs to. Probably nothing important.

Additionally, this story will be going on hiatus for about a month. There are some other things in my life and obligations which I would like to focus on. But rest assured, I've outlined this to the end, and I'm committed to seeing it through.

See ya'll soon~

Intermission I: A New Place

She fell on her hands and knees.

Crickets chirped around her. The windows of the school were dark. Above, the moon shone against a deep black sky.

For a moment, she panicked at the lack of stars, before remembering where she was. She didn't know why, but this world didn't have them. None that she'd seen, anyway.

Initial instincts told her to run. To keep running, and never look back, not for a Mooncursed second.

A brief chill shivered down her spine. Her arms seemed colder than they should be, and she reached up to find her sleeves missing. Three years ago she'd come through with a shirt. This time, she had a tanktop.

Strange. She wondered what that meant, if anything.

Suddenly she remembered the circumstance she was under, and scrambled to her feet. It took a moment remembering how to stand on two legs, and she nearly toppled. Her gait seemed different as well, and lifting her leg to inspect she realized her shoes had changed too.

Heeled boots now, huh? Kinda neat. Also kinda hot.

Facing the statue, she balled her fists. If one of those idiot guards tried coming through the portal, she'd break their jaw and send them right back where they fucking belonged.

She watched the statue. Saw the moonlight glinting off its smooth marble surface. Waited. Any moment now, she expected to see the base part and ripple. The hulking form of an armored brute reach for her throat.

Nothing happened.

She sighed, releasing the burden off her shoulders. She found herself, quite frankly, a little disappointed.

Those guards always pissed her off. Silent. Stoic. Never answered a Sundamned question unless their preeecious Princeeeess told them to, even though she was the Princess' own personal protege.

Was the Princess' personal protege. As in, no longer.

She reflected on that a moment. Just as suddenly, she did not.

She would have loved the chance to put one of those bucketheads in their place. They'd be easy meat, stumbling around like a moron like she did the first time she came through. She'd already royally screwed the pooch with Celestia, so might as well take the opportunity to rough up one of her stupid guards a bit. Really twist that knife for good measure.

Celestia earned it.

She spun around, swiftly removing herself from the premises. She didn't want to get caught loitering. Loitering meant cops, cops meant questions, and they really weren't questions Sunset felt adequately equipped to handle. Lying wasn't hard, but you had to be in the right mindset to pull it off effectively.

When she reached the next block she paused, found a bench and sat down. Above her a streetlamp flickered, intermittently failing and casting her into shadow.

Knuckles pressed to her cheek, she stared ahead at a darkened storefront. Where did she take things now?

It was actually kind of funny. Part of her always knew, eventually, that she'd wind up here.

For as much as Sunset hated her guts, Celestia wasn't stupid. She ruled a large, strong, prosperous nation, and had done so for over a millennium. Nobody just casually strolled into that kind of position and survived for that long without some damn good reasons.

No. It hadn't been a matter of if Celestia unveiled her transgressions. It was a question of when.

Still. She never expected it to be this soon.

Too soon.

She needed time to prepare. To plan. To learn as much as she could about this world so she could not only survive, but thrive.

Celestia ruined that, like most things in her life.

It wouldn't stop her. She'd made it this far. Just had to go a little farther.

And she took just enough to get a head start.

Left and right, she scanned her surroundings. When she was sure nobody was around she smirked, and pulled a mound of clinking metal from her pocket.

Her palm opened, revealing a tidy sum of gold coins. In their opulent surface, her smooth, furless face glared back. She rubbed her thumb across, sifting the small pile.

It wasn't a lot - only ten bits. She wanted more, but she grabbed what she could in the heat of the moment.

From what little she'd gathered during her first excursion thirty moons prior, the people on this side of the mirror used a different currency - some strange greenish paper with printed number values and the faces of humans she didn't recognize. What the conversion rate would be, she had no idea, but she hoped it was more than what five bits got you in Equestria.

Until she found where to exchange them, they wouldn't get her shit.

Standing, she returned the bits to where they belonged. The cool evening breeze filled her lungs, and far away she heard the sound of barking dogs. It reminded her of a lonely room from half her life ago.

If she was going to make it in this city - so called 'Canterlot' - she ought to learn it inside and out. Memorize the streets, the alleys, the districts until she could just as easily breathe them. That had been one among many mistakes she'd made back home, not using the environment to her full advantage.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

Turning the corner, she chose a random direction and stuck to it. She knew she would likely never recall the entire city with perfect clarity, but she took notes of everywhere she passed regardless. Without a proper map or at least a phone, her mind would have to make do.

She was fine with that. Whatever kept her sharp.

She passed others with scarcity. None of them spared her more than a glance. She was fine with that, too.

And ultimately unsurprised. Judging by the moon's position, it must have been an hour past midnight. Beyond the limits of downtown and the realm of bars and nightclubs, if human cities were anything like ponies' they'd be dead as lead. So far, that impression rang true.

It wasn't too long before she approached the downtown. The distant lights and shouting voices drew closer with every step. Wafting smells of food and alcohol made her stomach rumble, reminding her that she never did get to eat dinner.

Guess Celestia didn't think she was worth feeding. No point if she wasn't her prized pupil anymore, right?

Hot wetness touched her cheek. She ducked behind a building, and nearly smacked it off her face before she continued.

No sentimentals. Celestia didn't care about her? She wouldn't care about Celestia.

Once in the thick of it, she kept to crowds. A fact she had been smart enough to gather was safety in numbers. Herd mentality, the textbooks called it, a thorn in ponykind's side that divided the tribes whenever it flared up like a chronic illness. She wondered if it might be the same for humans.

A few particularly inebriated men and one or two concerned, more sober women called out to her. She must have appeared strange to them, a hard-faced fifteen-year-old girl strolling by like she owned the place.

She kept walking.

Downtown ended shortly after. Either Canterlot City was significantly smaller than the real deal, or she'd gone through the short side.

With the noise and late reverie behind her, she stuck to corners and darkness. Better to not be seen, just in case. Until standing next to adults, she had forgotten how much smaller - and weaker - she was by comparison.

In Equestria, she had magic to fend for herself. Powerful, potent, precise arcana trained and honed throughout her young life. Nopony but the Princess herself and a few elite guards could step to her.

She had none of that here, no - human - combat experience.

Back to the basics, she supposed. It would make for a good challenge.

The further she tread, the higher her hackles rose. Clean, smooth roads and pavement gave way to broken concrete and pockmarked asphalt. Previously pristine glass panes cracked, others closed off by iron shutters or wooden boards. Streetlamps flickered, dimmed, or failed to work altogether.

She knew the signs of poverty when she saw them. She'd never stolen more than a fertive glance towards the uglier parts of Low Canterlot - that old goat Swan made sure of it - but she recognized everything she'd seen then, here.

"Hey kid."

Her eyes shot leftward. She'd come by a red brick alley without realizing.

It wasn't empty.

Her heart raced. She said nothing as she tried to pass.

"I said, hey kid."

The gruff, slurred voice growled deep, and before she knew what was happening a massive hand grabbed her arm. She shrieked, trying to pull away, but her boots did nothing more than scrape the sidewalk. Compared to her, he might as well have been an earth pony.

And she was a unicorn.

Without magic.

"Get off me!"

She tried prying the fingers off her wrist. He responded by digging them into her skin, and she wondered if it might bruise later.

Assuming she survived.

"C'mon, girl. Ain't gonna do ya no harm. I just wanna know where you're goin'. Awful dangerous out here on your own, with nothin' to defend yourself."

She glared daggers at him. His unshaven beared looked a few days old, scraggly and full of bristle. His skin felt cold, clammy, and greasy, but the worst part was his breath. A foul odor of reeking beer that stung her eyes.

"I'm nothing to you."

"That so?" He smirked, revealing two rows of stained yellow teeth. Booze, coffee, or cigarettes. Could have been all three, really.

He yanked her in, releasing his grip as she stumbled into the alley. Her back slammed against the bricks that dug at her spine.

"'cause I'm not so sure."

She made to scamper, but his forearm pinned her waist to the wall. "Ain't ever seen a face like yours before. Some'n in your eye's older than ya look. Real pretty, too. Be a shame if someone tried takin' advantage, and I don't think either of us want that, now do we?"

Her lips pulled back, revealing a feral sneer.

"Nothin'a say? That's fine. Kid like you don't just stroll the fuck in this parta town with nothin' ta do. You got somethin', and I'm gonna find out what."

Her stomach coiled, but she didn't resist as he felt up her skirt. Eyes cast down, she calculated her best move.

He was big. Huge really, standing two full heads above her, and thankfully more general bulk than muscle, not to mention drunk.

She could take him. Just had to play her cards right.

"Holy shit," he breathed. He'd found her coins, holding one of them in the dull, sickly yellow light. In his shock, he'd removed his arm from her waist. "You gotta be kiddin' me. This for real?"

"What are you talking about."

"This!" He shook the coin, waving it in front of her. "Gold! Is this shit real gold?!"

"I... yes?"

He went silent for a moment, turning it over and over. She didn't understand what about a basic Equestrian bit would fascinate him so much, but she saw the opening.

Her bootsteps made barely more than a scuffle. By the time he looked down, she was already gone.

"Right behind you, asshole."

Instincts locked in. Before he had the chance, she moved, sweeping a foot through his legs. Caught unawares and uncoordinated, it didn't take much for him to stumble.

"Fuckin' bitch!"

He spun on his heel, nearly tripping in the process. A solid punch delivered pain to her gut, and she fell back, wheezing.

'Sweet sweet adrenaline,' she thought. 'How Mama's missed you.'

His next blow was sloppy. Unused herself to footwork, she didn't so much dodge as she did lurch. Regardless, his punch missed the mark, knuckles slamming into raw stone. He hissed an expletive, instinctively cradling the bloody knuckles to his chest.

She took her shot. A full-body slam knocked him face-first against the wall. She wouldn't have described the move as anywhere approaching graceful, but it did the job.

As he groaned, reaching for something in his pants, she lashed out again. Boot to the knee, make him jolt. Do it again, make him unstable. Elbow the back of his head, and he falls.

She pressed further. Another kick, shoving him to the ground. He sprawled, propping himself up with his elbows, but a sharp heel to his back and skull sent him crumpling.

From there, she wound her fingers through his hair, and slammed his face into the floor, again, and again, and again. She lost herself, expected a crunch, but only wet thuds came. Between the shock, the booze, and the pain, he was at her utter mercy.

She grinned.

He quit squirming. She dropped his head, quickly checking for and confirming a pulse, then flipped him over. Pink froth burbled through his cracked teeth, and she might have impressed herself if he hadn't been drunk.

"You'll be fine," she muttered. Other than the broken nose, some general welts and bruises, and bloody raw skin, she hadn't done any real damage. Nothing that would last, anyway.

Except maybe his pride.

She grinned wider.

Crouching, she pried the coin from his fingers. He hadn't let it go, even during the fight.

Next his pocket. After all, turnabout was fair play.

She didn't find much in the first. One crumpled slip of green paper, slightly torn, stamped on two sides with the number ten. Some loose coins, far smaller and thinner than her own. Lint. She pocketed the money, and switched pockets.

Her eyes widened, as her hand closed around a handle. She moved her thumb, and briefly grazed something cool, flat, and metallic.

With care, she eased the object out. She hadn't noticed her heart slow, but now it beat again, knocking hard on her chest.

In the grim light of the alley, her reflection glinted off the small, unpolished knife.

She didn't think it would be this difficult.

Obviously, homelessness wasn't exactly anyone's idea of a good time. But after experiencing it on Earth?

She had to give it to Celestia.

Equestria, for all its faults, at least tried to take care of its population. Exposure, crime, drugs, lack of necessities, all these were still a problem, but the Crown did its best to mitigate. Much in the way Celestia personally funded the Royal Orphanage, so too did she build and strengthen a singular program, meant to provide for and help ponies to their hooves. Plenty managed to slip through the cracks, but those were the exception.

Here, they were the rule.

In her short time, she'd witnessed more than she cared to. Clusters of tents, stretched over areas no larger than a block. Dozens or more bodies packed into cramped spaces, relying on scrap for donations, with little to no hope of recovery. Hot, sweaty, filthy, disgraced.

At least, in these instances, they had each other. Until someone got uncomfortable or felt vaguely threatened, in which case the cops came in and tore it down. Worse, if anyone tried to resist. She watched it happen.

In most cases, the homeless only had themselves. Easier to move around, but also, easier to victimize. Or hide in alleyways.

She'd be lying if she said they didn't make her uncomfortable. Bad smells, ragged clothes, unkempt, unwashed.

Addicted.

Many times they didn't even have the mental wherewithal to know what they were doing or saying. It made a kind of sick, twisted sense. Anyone would lose it under these conditions, and if your only respite was found at the end of a bottle or point of the needle?

Again. It made sense.

She'd never seen anything like it, and it horrified her.

What horrified her more, was the possibility of becoming one.

She couldn't - wouldn't - let that happen.

Sometimes, when she slept on stiff benches and jagged stairs, she thought about going home. Returning to Celestia. Begging forgiveness.

She missed Equestria already. She missed her magic. Walking on four hooves, a far more stable gait than these ungainly, bipedal limbs. She missed the warmth of her bedroom, the sight from her balcony, the food servants brought her, and the vast selection of books and tomes to consume at her leisure.

But she couldn't go back. Her window had closed, and even if it hadn't she wouldn't do it. Wouldn't stoop that low, and grovel before Celestia like a worm in the dirt.

This was a temporary measure. A brutal patch in her life, bridging to that ultimate victory.

Wings.

A crown.

A title.

She mused on it like a dream. 'Princess Sunset Shimmer'.

She wondered how Philomena was doing.

Within the week, she learned it wasn't a good idea to nap in public. The police harassed people there as well. Thankfully, they hadn't gone after her quite yet. Encounters with authority were the last thing she needed right now. If she was fortunate enough not to be bludgeoned and thrown in juvy, they'd send her to another Sunforsaken orphanage.

So she switched tactics, finding rest - and food - behind various dumpsters. Sometimes she ate well. Other times not at all. Somehow, through the agony in her gut and forehead, she refused to eat anything spoiled. Stale, sure, but never spoiled.

To think she'd fallen this low, it repulsed her. She deserved better - no - the best. The finest silk sheets, velvet pillows, satin curtains, all across a room-sized bed inlaid with jewels the price of small towns. Attended by her own servants, protected by her own guards, looked up to and beloved by her own ponies.

She couldn't have that yet, but she would. First, though, she had to survive. Survive, in order to thrive.

To do that, she needed someplace stable. Somewhere she could set up base, sleep, and study without the risk of murder - state-sanctioned or otherwise.

In the time she wasn't sleeping, she spent scouting. Mapping the city in her mind, locating all the nooks and crannies.

Closer to the outskirts, she pinned the perfect spot. A portion of the city where time had moved on, abandoning homes, apartments, and factories to decay. It reminded her of where she'd met that man, but emptier. Desolate, gray, and truly hopeless.

Or, as a few told her - condemned.

She had no clue what that meant. Superstition, perhaps. Unsafe, but she willingly took that risk. Better than being out in the open.

The building itself was huge. Six stories tall, and half a block wide. An ugly, barren, concrete rectangle full of disposed needles, vulgar writing, and strange withered rubber tubes, filled with something she couldn't identify by sight and refused to by touch.

She took up residence on the second floor. Strategic, for a few reasons. High enough she had mild scouting advantage, close enough to ground level she could jump and escape without any harm.

By far, the public library was the most valuable resource she'd found. She couldn't just walk in though, looking and smelling how she did.

It ate the better part of a day, but she tracked down somewhere she could shower. As for her clothes, dispenser soap and intermittently hot and cold water had to serve.

Once she was in, it took all the willpower she had not to laugh. It paled in comparison to the libraries of the real Canterlot. Even the one from her fillyhood was a story taller, and had a basement.

That's when she discovered computers.

Any doubts about finding the info she needed were utterly dashed. She could, with the stroke of a few keys, learn and gather as much as she could ever desire and more about this strange other world.

She swore it must be magic. In a way it was. Another science, different from the realm of arcana in so many ways, yet in others shockingly similar.

It took her some time to learn how to use them, though. Initially she'd poked and prodded the various letters with her two front fingers - 'pointers', apparently. When the other library-goers began tossing her strange looks, she made a note of how they used it - a keyboard, fittingly named - and adjusted.

She stayed on two websites, primarily. One, a vast, boundless encyclopedia of knowledge one could drown in. The second packed to the brim with videos - oddities similar to pictures, but which moved and talked without magical input. In spite of the endless, meaningless garbage on that particular one, it proved easy enough to mine for valuable information. Plenty more, she learned from simple, contextual osmosis.

Downloads. Uploads. Online. Offline. Audio, video, photo, executable files. Bugs and viruses, private networks, GPS tracking. And that was just the digital jargon.

Had she not been Celestia's student for so long, she wouldn't have stood a cold chance in Tartarus keeping it all in. Given that, she still struggled.

But she had one problem, larger than any other.

Outside the library, she had no means of internet access.

If she was going to make it in this world, she needed that power. There wasn't any debate. Through phones, she found out how to keep it.

But she didn't have the money. Nor an ID, birth certificate, or any reference of caregiver. If she was getting her hands on a phone, she'd have to take it.

Robbing tech stores was not an option. They locked those things up tight. Tighter than she felt any confidence in breaking.

The pieces puzzled together, and a plan formed in her mind. After some investigation, she found her target - a little general store on the poorer side of town, seemingly undefended.

She entered at noon. The door jingled as she passed through, and was greeted by shelves of various goods, none of which looked or smelled remotely new.

The owner, a sour-looking old woman, grunted and glanced her way. She offered no greeting - or anything else for that matter.

Sunset took that as permission to peruse. To see if this place had what she needed.

It did.

Including a lack of security cameras.

With her ten dollars, she bought a cheap, reusable metal bottle. It would come in handy later, or when she couldn't find a water fountain.

She left, and spent the rest of her day at the library. Hours passed. Night came. She returned to the store.

She watched as the lady hobbled out the door and turned the key. She waited. Waited. Then waited some more, until not a soul but her breathed the moist summer air.

Clutching for purchase, she rubbed the dusty brick wall between her fingers. Her heart raced, throat tightened, and guts flipped.

It wasn't the first time she'd done this.

It was the first time she'd done it alone.

Taking a deep breath, she bolted. The bottle made quick work of the glass. Given its quality, the glass also made quick work of the bottle. Unfortunate, but she could always take another.

Her boots crunched past the shattered door, and she worked as fast as her adrenaline-filled body allowed. Twitching hands swiped only what she needed. Gloves, pants, hoodie, mask, all in black. A flashlight, batteries, bedroll, lighter, replacement bottle, and baseball bat for good measure - wooden, because aluminum would dent.

Not to mention, she could burn wood. Good luck trying to test DNA from ashes.

The moment she finished, she was out. Her legs pumped fast, boots pounding, pounding, pounding the concrete below. Wind rushed past her ears, and all the world became a blur as her red-gold tresses turned to fire.

Tears streaming down her face, she threw her head back, and laughed.

For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, she felt truly free.

It was sublime.

When she'd passed several blocks, she kept running. When the outskirts rose into view, she kept running. When she reached her building, she kept running, and didn't stop until she was on the second floor.

There, she collapsed. The stolen goods rolled from her arms, and she let herself sprawl.

Still laughing, crying, her chest heaved, until her voice grew quiet. First to chuckling, then faint giggles. Finally, silence.

On her knees, she spread out the loot. She only unfurled the bedroll, leaving the rest for later. They could all wait.

But she was sleeping well tonight. On something meant for sleeping. For the first time in two weeks.

Tonight, she would sleep like a real person. Tonight, she looked out past the building, beyond the city, into the darkness and the visible stars outside and whispered across infinity.

"It's just a stepping stone. You'll go back one day, and show her how wrong she was."

She hoped Celestia heard.

For the next couple days, she laid low. Chances that she'd been caught were slim and slimmer, but she wasn't rolling those dice.

On the third, she stalked the night, slipping between shadows and buildings like a ghost. Mask on, hoodie up, wearing her gloves and black trousers. All the while, she kept her blade close at hand.

Chances were, she'd easily find someone with a phone. They seemed a nigh universal technology, with many of the homeless she'd encountered having one of their own. Something they kept before losing everything, she guessed. Or stolen, like her.

Sunset wasn't about chances, though. Never had been. Never would be.

So she waited for the right person. Someone to stroll along all on their lonesome, with their device in hand or eyesight.

She found her. A woman, with pearl-white skin, black-frame glasses, and a loose chocolate-brown bun.

Sunset's heart stopped. She knew a mare like that. But how could she possibly be here?

It didn't matter. She kept herself flush to alleyways, peeking behind corners and trailing the woman as she went. When she was sure they were alone, she leapt out.

"What-"

Sunset didn't reply, merely clamped a gloved fist over her mouth and shushed. The same heartbeat she revealed the knife, letting the woman get a good, long look at the gleaming steel. The woman trembled, stifling a gasp as tears of panic flowed freely down her cheeks.

Sunset felt genuinely sorry, even if she was who she thought. In either case, she'd never done anything wrong by her. But she had to do this. What other options did she have?

Pressing the edge to her throat, Sunset's free hand gently took her purse. Initially she'd intended on swiping the whole thing, but after seeing the woman's expression she couldn't find the nerve.

She did find the phone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and slid it in her pocket. Slowly, she lowered the knife, released her grip, and fled.

Ten thousand dollars.

That's how much those bits got her.

More than enough to fuel her needs. Even if she blew a hundred per day, her stockpile would last just over fourteen weeks. Plenty time to cement her situation, and she would never be that stupid with her rations.

She spent only for necessities. Food, primarily. Without refrigeration or preservation spells, she went for canned goods. A mix of soups, beans, and vegetables to balance her diet. Water she could take freely, thank heavens, unlike everything else on this planet.

Playing close to the chest, she bought for three days maximum. Three meals per day. Nine cans total.

Averaging it out, that meant nine to twelve bucks per day. Put another way?

Enough meals to last over two years.

Assuming she made no efforts to change her situation. And she had zero intention of doing that.

Nonetheless, she required a regular, fluid income. She hid her stacks well, buried under junk and spread across various corners of the second floor. But she'd been taught the hard way that life took great pleasure in bending you over, and fucking you at every opportunity it could. She wouldn't treat this small break any different.

And so, as always, she researched.

The first thing she did to Raven's phone was factory reset. She'd have no internet service on her own, but she also couldn't be tracked. Considering she'd already committed three serious crimes in the span of a month, that was vital.

Second, she had to find a charger. Annoying thing was getting the correct type. Seriously, was it really necessary to have like a hundred of the damn things?

The answer was no, and the reason was money. Like many things back home. Like everything over here.

This time around, rather than commit a fourth crime, she relied on the generosity of strangers. She remembered the girl that gave it to her, although she didn't remember her name. She found her at the library, reading a fanned array of clothing magazines, with a pure white complexion, coiffed violet hair, and a truly immaculate sense of fashion.

The chat had been brief. She came up, like she did to the others she spotted charging their phones. Asked if she could borrow hers, because she'd lost her own recently. To Sunset's pleasure, the girl pawned it off wholesale.

"Take it, darling," she said. "I've got more than enough back home."

Not one to look gift dragons in the maw, she thanked her and left.

She had all the tools she needed now. Phone. Charger. Internet, thanks to the library. She no longer used the computers when stopping by, using this 'Wi-Fi' - whatever that stood for, she still hadn't bothered looking it up - to download pages and articles relevant to her ambitions.

And every now and then, random things that caught her interest. Animals being cute, mostly, although she'd also grown quite partial to these so-called 'rock' and 'metal' genres. She liked their leather jackets, and Crown would she kill for an electric guitar.

As for making money, the obvious choice was a job. Except normal human jobs required normal human things, like background checks on a background that she didn't have. She could fake an ID or certificate, but she wasn't cozy enough yet to make that jump.

Instead, she delved into the world of organized crime. Nothing too serious, certainly not on the level of genuine gangs. She had no interest for getting wrapped up in that mess again.

Selling drugs, though?

That she could do. On a small scale and with a close, tight-knit partnership. Lesser chances of being shot, too. Present, but lesser.

Before she could attain that, she had to make connections. Find a couple low-levels, get her instructions, and prove herself capable.

During her excursions, she made sure to wear her pants, her black hoodie - hide the identifying cutie mark. Those first few deals made her nervous, though it had nothing on her initial entrance exam for Celestia's School.

No backup muscle, no protection. Just a young teen, assisting a handful of already employed dealers where she could. The sort that would throw her to the cops or in a river if she made the slightest mistake.

The thing none of them seemed to realize about her, was Sunset Shimmer didn't make mistakes.

Turned out, that kinda word spread quick underground. Whispers of the girl with red hair, amber skin, and an iron attitude. A few reached out, but she chose just one.

Which was how she found herself here.

Sitting in a traphouse. Entry doors locked. One table between her and two men.

The first was an older gentleman, looked to be in his mid-thirties, with gray skin and spiked silver-white hair. His partner, looking to be around university age, had a tawny complexion and fine gold hair, buzzcut at the back and sides. Wearing a deep blue pinstripe and plain brown suit, she decided to name them Prim and Proper respectively.

While she knew neither of their names, she'd gotten the general scoop of them from deeper, darker parts of the web. The recruitment offer drew her intrigue, and the positive reports and impressions sealed the deal. Among the alternatives, they were her surest bet.

Their stares were intense. She would not have described them as unfriendly, but hard. They reminded her of stern unicorn professors at Celestia's School, except these would sooner put a bullet in her brain than her in detention.

Prim lened towards her, Elbows propped, hands clasped to conceal his lower face. "Enlighten me once more, why it is you want to work with us. You don't even look eighteen."

Intimidation tactics. Meant to sow self-doubt. She knew this game.

"I'm not," she said, shrugging. In the early August heat she appreciated her tanktop. In this cold room she wished she owned a jacket, but she kept her face impassive. The identifier was a show of trust. "And I'm here for the same reason as you."

Proper quirked a brow. "And what is that, exactly?"

"Money."

The older man smirked. "How much you want then, huh, firebrand? Lemme guess. Eighty-twenty. No? Seventy-thirty?"

Her expression was stone. "Depends on how much you make."

He broke into a laugh, slapping the boy's back. "Hear that? She wants to know how much we make!" His laughter died off, and he wiped invisible tears from his eye. It met her gaze again, cool as before, but the barest hint softer. "I think I'm growing to like you. Got a name, firebrand? Or can I just keep calling you firebrand." He grinned.

"Firebrand's fine," she said. "Didn't answer my question, though. How much do you make?"

Proper thought a moment, rubbing his chin. "Per gram? Hundred on a good day. Bad day? Eighty."

She leant back from the table, thinking herself. "Alright. How many grams do you usually sell per day?"

Let's see," Prim muttered, pulling up his phone. "Besides me and my partner, we've got two under our employ, because I sure as shit am not telling you how much we're earning. As for you, how much dough you pull in depends entirely on how much product you can move. If you want an estimate, we've got a couple others under our employ who sell an average of one to two grams per day. Lows of zero, highs of ten. Ish."

The boy continued. "For a starting rate, we offer a twenty-eighty split in our favor. Prove yourself, and we can bump that up by five percent."

"And I can leave whenever I like?"

They both nodded.

"But." Prim held up a finger. His expression darkened, and in it she saw the promise of death. "Double cross us, rope us into some street gang, or snitch to the blue?"

He withdrew an engraved, silver handgun, showing it off. "I don't think I need to explain myself further." He glanced in Proper's direction. "Do you?"

"Nope."

"Another thing, we don't hand out some piddly shit like kush. Product's dangerous, and we don't wanna be responsible for another druggie. Last one OD'd before we could fill his skull with lead for stealing our supply. Do I make myself clear?"

She remembered some of the homeless she'd encountered, and shuddered internally. "Crystal. I don't take anything that fucks with my head."

That wasn't entirely true. She'd done a bit of underage drinking in the past, and she rather liked being hammered.

He grinned. "Smart girl. Anyone ever tell you that? And one last thing, you work for us. No one else. That includes yourself. We tell you where to go, what to do, and who you can speak with. Capiche?"

She nodded.

"Good! I see then we understand one another. You've heard our terms." He offered a hand. "So, do we have a deal, little miss Firebrand?"

Sunset didn't hesitate. Outstretching her hand, she took his and shook it firmly.

"Deal."

After, when she expressed an inability to purchase her own firearm, they hooked her up with a dealer. That chewed a not insignifcant hole in her funds, but the sacrifice was worth it for a little self-defense.

Besides. She fully meant to earn the cost back, and much, much more beyond.

Through the rest of August and September, she wheeled and dealed her teenage heart out.

Sculking in the unseen places, the forgotten corners, she waited for her clients to arrive. Some were goners. Others had a chance, but this was business, her livelihood; she wasn't gonna try and convince some substance-hooked junkie to get off it.

The worst were the newbies. The people experimenting without any clue of what they were getting themselves into, or the rarer sorts pressured in by peers.

No small part of her hated this. What she was doing. All that she had done since she crossed over.

Before she saw what she'd seen in that throne room, she thought she might be getting better. It had been years since she did anything unseemly.

She'd buried her nose in books, trained with Celestia, sparred with the Captain of the Guard. And one day, she believed, she would bear her own crown, and a set of glorious golden wings upon her back resplendent with shining feathers.

All it took was one block. One block removed from the tower, and her whole life came crashing down.

She did what was right. She did what she had to.

Celestia never loved her, and she saw that now, clearer than ever. She was a tool, and hadn't ever been anything more. Swung, manipulated, and when Celestia sensed resistance she tossed her in the trash.

How many students had she mentored besides her? Just one? Tens? Dozens? Hundreds, across the eras?

It was her fault, anyway. She was the one above it all. A goddess of the Sun, long-lived and profoundly wise. Yet she kept her secrets as much as anypony else, as much as her, and then turned around and tried to act high and mighty when she learned about Sunset's.

No. None of that was important anymore.

She was on Earth. On Earth, she did ugly things to survive, so that when she came home she would be beautiful.

And so she kept on, ruining lives. No doubt ending others in the process. But those would have died somehow anyway.

It would be worth it. Had to be.

She carried the gig onwards. Despite her anxieties, her first real deal went without a hitch. Ever since, she'd proved herself a highly skilled seller, and earned that quarter split on her own merit.

Clients told her employers, which fed down to her, how safe she made them feel. How polite she was. She wasn't jumpy. Wasn't an ass. She got the job done cleanly and efficiently.

If she kept this up, she could start expanding her reach before long. She could buy new clothes, better food, a fake ID. With a false ID, if she truly stepped up her game, she could snag herself one of those sleek, gorgeous, purring motorcycles.

She shooed these fantasies aside. Luxuries were nice, but not what she came here for. Keeping her head low, camp secure, and money coming was the only thing she should focus on.

On the second week of October, a late Thursday afternoon, she stood and watched at one of her usual meeting spots. Between a nearby theatre and the start of the industrial district, barely anyone came around. Too dangerous for the regulars, too close to authority for the rowdier criminals.

Perfect, for a quiet one.

Today, Prim scheduled her to meet a particular buyer. Some woman who'd been hashing out dough to the men and their proxies for years. He tipped her off that she could get a bit jumpy, after being under the influence for so long, but she dismissed his concerns. She could be a hothead, but only with those whom she had emotional attachments.

The sun dipped lower down on the horizon, and she glanced at her watch - something cheap but functional she'd bought in mid-September. Quicker to catch the time, and safer than pulling out her phone.

Leaning her back against the wall, she tapped her boot. Damn chick was late.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out. Prim made sure to position her where she could leech off Wi-Fi or hotspots.

'PI: Yo. Struck yet?'

She texted back, sighing. 'FB: 'No. Isn't here.'

'PI: Noted. Inform when struck.'

'FB: Aye aye.'

She pocketed her phone once more, and continued to wait. Another good twelve or so minutes passed before she saw someone - thin and lanky - jogging towards her.

As the figure approached, she made out more details. They were in fact a woman, though looked more bone than flesh. Gaunt cheeks, sunken eyes, protruding bones over which hung clothes that once upon a time might have fit her well.

Any beauty she might previously have possessed was gone. Her dull rose hair hung in limp, straw-dry strings. Her Mint green skin had an off yellowish tint, and pulled tight and rough over her body.

Sunset felt that lurch in her throat again. The one she felt when she knew she was doing something bad. Something wrong.

"Hello." She waved at the woman, who stepped close.

At this short a distance, she noticed her mannerisms better as well. Jumpy was right. Her eyes jittered back and forth, lips twitched, and she fiddled and picked ceaselessly at her fingers. The scabs turned her stomach.

"A-a-are you... F-Firebrand?"

Sun and Moon, she sounded it too.

"Mhm. You here for the bleach?"

She nodded emphatically. "B-but-"

Ah shit, here it comes. Druggie don't got the dosh.

She hated when that happened. Those were always the scariest, riskiest encounters.

"I-I don't... quite have enough to pay yet. Could we, m-make a deal or something?"

Sunset shook her head, folding her arms. "Sorry, but that's a no-go. Just policy. You can come-"

"Please!"

The woman took a step closer. Sunset inched back, before realizing she was already against the wall.

"L-listen, you understand, right? Right? C-come on. I'll have payment in a week, n-not even!"

Sunset unfolded her arms, standing in full. She pressed her right hand near her pocket, feeling the metal indent inside.

Other than target practice, she'd never had to use it before. She didn't want to start now.

"I understand, but I can't do that. It's not my decision-"

She didn't get another word out. The woman lunged fast, too fast, gripping her by the collar. Sunset was shorter, but the woman much frailer. It wouldn't take a lot to push her off.

Her breath stank.

"L-listen to me you little s-s-shit. I don't fucking care what they said. I need-"

Sunset saw the woman's hand moving.

To a pocket.

Not hers.

But bulging with a faint, rectangular outline.

"-my fix!"

Sunset was faster.

She whipped out her gun, and pulled the trigger.

Her ears popped, and a high, piercing shrill blocked everything out. Dully she heard the woman curse and scream, and Sunset didn't waste a second pushing her off.

She shouted an apology before she went, but she doubted that would do much for the bleeding hole in the woman's thigh.

Turning, she ran. Ran faster than she ever had in her life. The staccato thump-a-thump of footfall came to her senses more as vibration than sound.

She remembered breaking into the woman's store in July. She remembered how good the adrenaline felt, pumping through her system. Laughing. Crying.

Freeing.

This didn't feel very free.

Thank Sun she was by the industrial district. She had to get home, pack her shit, and hustle.

Once there, she gathered all her spare cash. Maybe all. She wasn't sure. She also didn't care. It was in the high thousands. The rest could rot.

She tossed everything else in her backpack - a recent purchase she now thanked herself for getting. Whatever it couldn't carry, she stuffed in her pockets.

From there, she beelined for the library. Once she was in range of its Wi-Fi she shot a quickfire series of textx, unable to stop her hands from shaking.

'FB: went aouth'

'FB: bad stuff hd to usesilver'

'FB: please advise'

She hoped he'd decode the nonsense. Honestly, she surprised herself she'd still kept it so covert.

Each second that ticked by without a reply felt like years. Her heart stopped when she saw three dots, and didn't resume until the message arrived.

'PI: Noted. Will deal w/i.'

'FB: need out for now too.'

'PI: Noted. Will message soon.'

That dealt with, she resumed her flight. No time to think. Just run.

She didn't know what she'd do next, or where she'd go. Skip town, maybe? She didn't have the highest authority in the land to bail her out anymore. If she got caught, if everything she did was revealed-

Stop. Don't think. Slows you down. Run. Keep running.

The world was a blur. Several shouted as she urged her way past. She paid them no mind.

Pavement. Sidewalk. Asphalt. Concrete. Grass.

Grass?

She stopped, looked up for a minute. She saw the statue.

And kept running.

She ran westwards. To the suburbs. Maybe she'd find a bus stop along the way.

From there, she could ditch this city. A smaller population meant cheaper housing, less risk, more quiet. What if she fled the state? Put as much distance between her and the cops as she could.

She didn't see him coming. Huge eyes and a gaping mouth was all she made out before hurtling into him with her entire body, all that momentum.

They fell together. Him first, and her after, rolling onto suburban sidewalk.

"S-shit, sorry!"

She got that little out before scrambling to her feet, but he stopped her.

"Wait! What's going on, are you okay?"

For some reason, she paused. Every nerve of her was on fire, begging, screaming to turn tail and offer him nothing.

She didn't know why she stood still. She didn't know why tears came rushing down her cheeks. She didn't know why months of stress, buried and pushed down under sheer force of will and perseverance exploded in one furious, hideous, gagging sob.

"No," she managed. It was a gross, ugly croak between her tears.
Slowly, he climbed to his feet, and she got a better look at him. They were the same age, give or take a year. Compared to her light orange his skin was yellow, with a thick mussy mop of electric blue hair. Briefly her eyes saw his jeans and jacket, and she felt oddly jealous.

"Hey, hey. It's alright. I'm not mad or anything."

He approached her cautiously, like she was a ticking time bomb. Given to explode at the slightest provocation. Or maybe more accurately some defensive, quivering animal.

"I- I'm sorry." She gathered her strength again. Pushed everything else down. A few sniffles and rolling tears later, her face returned to an impassive mask. She surprised herself with how quickly she managed it.

"You're fine. Well..." He scanned her up and down, hissing inwardly. "Okay, maybe not fine fine. When did you last eat?"

"Noon," she said. "I had a... can of beans."

"That's it?"

She nodded.

"I hope this isn't too personal to ask but, do your parents, like... feed you properly?"

She felt her face twist on instinct. Parents. Worthless, cruel, stupid, heartless, evil-

"No."

He opened his mouth to say something. She continued.

"I don't live with them anymore. They kicked me out."

His jaw closed. The lie came so easy.

"Why did they..." He gestured. "Y'know. If you don't mind me asking, that is. I mean really, I understand if-"

"I..." she continued. Wringing her sleeves, she cast her gaze downwards, and played her act. But what role to take?

"I came out as bi. They... said they never wanted to see me again. I took what I could before I left, so I've just been buying canned food to make do."

His expression grew stunned, fell, then darkened all in the space of a second. "Fucking pricks. Sorry, I... hope that's okay for me to say. I just don't get why anyone would be so heartless, over something like that?"

She carved a smile. "It's fine. You're right. They were pricks."

She wasn't lying about that.

"Hey, so, look..." He rubbed the back of his head, averting his gaze. "I was heading home from school. CHS? You might know it. Anyway, uh, if you come home with me, my parents might be willing to take you in. I don't think either of them could take one look at you and shut you out. I-I mean, no offense."

She smiled. Genuine, this time. "None taken, and thank you. I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"Don't sweat it. Just helpin' out a fellow teen in need! But, uh, I don't think I caught your name." He smiled, stuck out his hand. "I'm Flash Sentry."

She looked down at the open greeting for a long, long time.

Then, she took it.

"Nice to meet you, Flash. I'm Sunset. Sunset Shimmer."

Author's Note

I've never prefaced anything with one of these before, but I feel it prudent to do so now. Warning, though, this is quite long. I've got lots to discuss.

Firstly and to all who have been tracking this story, I sincerely apologize. I don't really have any reason why I haven't been able to update, other than my lack of momentum. Ya'll have been left hanging for far too long.

Thus, I am re-stating here and now my commitment to this project, and to announce a true as blue reboot.

As you can see, I've commissioned an original cover for this story, a first in my Fimfiction history though certainly not the last. I've also recruited a team of beta-readers to ensure the highest quality, and that I'm kept on schedule. Similarly, I'm ditching the weekly upload mandate and shooting for whenever I can. This way, I have all the time I need to give these chapters the love, care, and dissecting rewrites they - and you - deserve.

To that extent, those earlier chapters are lookin' a little rough by comparison. Thus, until I publish the next chapter, I'll be systematically going through and reviewing all previous entries. In fact, the redone version of Chapter 1 is already complete! Don't expect major or complete overhauls for most of these, just general tightening up, correction, and consistency, but I'm aiming to make this all feel far smoother and a lot more enjoyable.

You also might notice that today is a little different. A little double, if you will. I hope this, and everything else I've expounded upon, makes the wait more worth it.

Finally, I hope you enjoy this brief little detour. It's one of many things I've come up with and/or fleshed out in the hiatus. At least something good came of it, right?

Thank you to everyone reading. You - and this story - mean a lot to me, and I hope you stick around for the long haul. We ain't even a third of the way through, folks.

<3 ~ Incandesca

We do what's necessary to survive. That's what some people tell themselves, anyway.

Music for this chapter:
Therefore I Am by Billie Eilish

Welcoming Beta Readers:
Visharo
AFanaticRabbit
& TheRedParade.

Please check them out, and give them your warm welcome and gratitude! They're the people keeping me on track, and refining this narrative to a needle point.

If you yourself would like to help out - not to mention get a peek behind the curtains - shoot me a message! I'm looking to expand the team and gather all the perspectives I can (within reason, of course).

Also, for realsies, gimme your thoughts on that shiny new cover - credit to my friend Shaslan. The art direction was mine, and although I'm blind I've heard nothing but praise from everyone I've sent it to.

Chapter 8: Never Look Back

"And here we are, class," Miss Globetrot declared. "The Royal Canterlot Gardens! Oh, I just can't wait to tell you all about the history of this place." Stamping the ground with her front hooves, her enthusiasm rang clear. "Aren't you all excited?"

A collective murmur rose from the student body.

Matron Swan extended a wing. "Come now, children. Your teacher cares very much about your education. Would she have organized something like this all by herself if she didn't?"

Tinsel's sharp, piercing tone sniped back, and Sunset ground her teeth. "Who cares what you have to say. You're old!"

Her lackie, Gold Foil, joined in. "Yeah, all you do is baby a bunch of orphans!"

Swan said nothing, although Sunset saw a rare, scathing contempt pass through her eyes.

Miss Hlobetrot, however, stepped closer. Her taller, bulkier earth pony form cast a shadow above the trio. "I will not hear such disrespectful talk in my presence again. If I do, you may consider yourselves banned from this field trip."

Emerald blew a raspberry. "And?"

Globetrot snorted. "And, everypony is being assigned an essay based upon this trip. Meaning if you sit out." She leaned close. "You fail."

Swan smirked. "It should also be noted that if you sit out you won't have anything to do. The gardenkeeps will ensure you and any others are kept strictly separate."

The three blanched, quickly stammering an apology. Sunset found herself smirking with her Matron.

As for her own feelings on the trip, she'd wait and see. Miss Globetrot's lessons could be captivating, or have her falling asleep in class.

Generally, though, she thought Miss Globetrot was okay. A bit boring on occasion, but okay. She wasn't mean like some of her other teachers either, and Sunset enjoyed history all right.

Not as much as she'd enjoy magic class, though. But everypony else said she had to wait until second grade for that. They said that 'six years old is too early for a unicorn foal, your magic is barely even developed!'

What a load.

Maybe she was six, yeah, but she hadn't seen a single unicorn her age half as good. Why hold her back just 'cause she was a year too young? And come on, she was gonna start attending Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns soon. Matron Swan already entered her name for the trial lists.

...granted, by the time she passed her exam, she would already be seven.

Moonstone shot her a glance. "You okay, Sunny"

She gave a tiny huff, pawing the dirt. "No..."

"Why?"

"M'just thinking, that's all."

"Now!" Swan spread her wings, and spun around. "Let's move this train to station. You have quite a lot to learn today, but luckily you have Globetrot and I to split the burden."

Globetrot giggled. "Indeed. Between my infinite knowledge and her insightful experience, you'll have oodles to write about!"

Everypony groaned, except for Sunset.

She didn't get why they were all so upset. Essays were like, five hundred words at most. She'd seen the requirements for higher education, and that was way harder.

Framed by large white columns, the tall silver and gold gates creaked open. Towering walls of bright green leaves extended on either side, speckled with red, white, and pink roses. Wherever she saw stone, she also saw ivy and flowered vines creeping across the surface.

Passing through, they found themselves herded by tall hedges. The path itself comprised of dirt, worn down by thousands of hooves until it was packed flat.

Every now and then they saw smaller alcoves. Standing on blankets of grass, some had gardenwork, trees, or both.

Others had bushes turned into shapes, or they had stone statues. Some were simple, and some were so complex they made her head spin. Her favorites were a singing mare with roses for eyes, and a scene of three ponies battling, respectively.

For the statue, a pegasus stallion stood on the left, on his hind legs with his wings flared. He wore swirling metallic plate, and held a long pike in his grip. To the right a slender unicorn mare dodged, clad in elegant, fluttering silk robes. She fought with her magic, firing bolts as she levitated a slim blade. Between them stood a hulking earth pony, clad in leather with spiked shields strapped to either of his sides.

They stopped to examine that one, and Globetrot spoke up.

"This scene is titled 'War of the Tribes'. It depicts a period of time from ancient Equestria, when things were not as peaceful as they are now. Based on these three and the title, does anyone have an idea what inspired the image?"

A hoof rose.

"Yes, Shellshine?"

"That was back when ponies were split up! Equestria didn't even exist yet."

"That's right! Does anyone here know how Equestria came to be?"

Sunset raised hers. "Me, me! I know!"

"Psh. Orphan girl wants to be smart again. Shocker," Tinsel sneered, loud enough for Sunset to hear without attracting the adults' notice. "I guess the bat's too stupid to answer for her."

She glared, but otherwise ignored the comment.

"All the strong unicorns used to come together so they could raise the Sun, because it took all their energy. Then Princess Celestia came and did it all on her own, so the ponies followed her as a leader and made Equestria!"

She felt rather proud of herself for that one. Never as proud as she'd be of her Princesss, though.

Once or twice, she had dreams about being an alicorn too, but she knew that could never happen. Somepony like Princess Celestia was far too ancient, wise, and powerful for any filly - even one like her - to become.

"Good, good! Swan, anything to offer?"

"Yes, there is." Matron Swan swept a wing, tracing along the marble statue. "I want all you ponies to remember this and give it some deep consideration. Think about how so long ago ponykind was divided, simply because we were different from one another. Because we had abilities that others did not. They allowed those differences to rule them, and as a consequence, great conflict and suffering arose. It wasn't until our wonderful Princess came along to show how all three tribes could work together in harmony that we united as a people. Remember this, when you feel upset, angry, or superior, and know that deep down we are all the same."

"Couldn't have said it better myself if I tried. You've given everyone some thoughtful insight, I think. Now come along, ponies! We're far from done."

Gradually, the hedge maze gave way to wider, open park. Sunset marveled with Moon at the various flora - the plants, blossoms, and trees she'd never seen before or didn't even know existed.

Blossoms that grew from ash rather than soil, hot to the touch and spitting out harmless embers instead of pollen. Great trees with smooth swirling boughs with the appearance of gold and leaves like copper, but when she touched them felt completely normal. Wriggling vinestalks with pink petals that moved, making sounds like a harmony.

She wished she could run off and explore on her own, and whenever she saw an opening she had to fight the urge. Her fear of getting lost and Moonstone's laser focus were the only things keeping her from doing it.

During a lecture about one statue's sculptor, they finally broke off. It wasn't far, and Moonstone insisted she had to come see something, tugging on her leg.

A few yards from the group, she stumbled to a stop. Moonstone ushered her over, pointing anxiously towards a bed of rich blue flowers. Sunset had only ever seen that kind of blue in picture books.

"What are those?" she asked.

"I dunno. I saw them earlier, but look at this!" Grinning, Moon fly-leapt near. The petals of the flowers spread and exposed long, thin, twitching white fronds. She bounced back, and they closed again. "Isn't that cool?"

"Tch. Not really."

Their heads shot rightwards. Tinsel stood beside Emerald, smirking.

Sunset leveled her horn. "What do you jerks want?"

"Oh nothing," Tinsel chirped innocently, twirling a lock of -silver-gold mane. "Just came to see the orphan girl and her icky marefriend smelling the roses. You know we're not supposed to leave the group, riiiight?"

Moonstone whimpered. Sunset moved to shield her.

"Neither are you," Sunset hissed. "And she's not gross. She's my friend, and a pony just like anyone else. Didn't you hear Matron Swan?"

Emerald gave a laugh-snort. "What, that old goat? Like she has anything worth saying."

"Yeah. Also, that bat-thing isn't a real pony. She isn't even from one of the tribes. Not really anyway."

Sunset growled. Her horn sparked. "Remember what happened last time you tried to bully us? I can do it again."

"Will you? I mean, I get being in love and all-"

"She's not my marefriend!"

Tinsel yawned. "I get being in love and all, but you know there aren't any witnesses around, right? Just us?" She put on a face, forcing tears to her eyes. "P-please, Miss Globetrot. Sunset, she- she-" Tinsel blubbered, pouting as Emerald rubbed her back.

"We were just trying t-to see if she got lost, and she and her friend were ripping up the flowers!" She sniffled again, as she ripped several blossoms from the bush.

"No!" Moonstone leapt, grabbing the severed flower heads. "You can't do that!"

"Can't I?" Tinsel cackled, and turned her back. "You better come follow us, or we're gonna tell~"

Sunset watched the two leave, Moonstone cradling the severed cups in her hooves.

"W-why would they do that? The flowers are so pretty."

Sunset shook her head, nudging Moon's shoulder. "I dunno, they're stupid and mean. Now come on. We gotta go or they're gonna get us in trouble."

Moonstone nodded, reluctantly. Glaring at Tinsel she stood up, sniffing as she returned the flowers to their bush. All she could do was nestle them amongst the others.

"Why do they have to be so mean?" she asked.

"'Cause they suck bits," Sunset grumbled. "Get a move on. I'll be right behind you."

Moonstone nodded, doing as instructed. With her back turned Sunset glanced at the loose flower heads, and pried them from the bush's grasp. Quickly, she hid them underneath with her magic and ran after her friend.

They returned to the group, glad it hadn't moved. Globetrot was still going on about the statue and its sculptor.

"What do you think she meant to communicate with this piece?" she asked. "Anypony? Anypony at all?"

Emerald raised her hoof. "I think Sunset wants to answer!"

Globetrot's gaze fell upon her. "Is that true?"

"I, uhm." Sunset swallowed.

Gold snickered. "Maybe she doesn't. Guess she wasn't paying attention." Sunset felt her eyes. "Or ran off."

"I did not!"

Swan interrupted. "Hush, you two. Sunset, did you want to answer or not?"

Sunset looked at the statue. A prim, and proper mare tossing balls of water up high, vines twisting around her hindleg fetlocks.

"I do," she said. "I... think... she wanted to show how life is double-sided? Like, how one is nice and refreshing like water, and the other hurts and is full of thorns."

"Not quite, no, but that's a good guess. Anypony else?"

Sunset sighed with relief, tuning out the rest of the lecture. She definitely was not choosing this as her essay topic.

"Alright class, it's time to move-"

"Miss Globetrot, Miss Globetrot!"

The mare turned her head. "Yes, Moonstone?"

"I saw some really pretty flowers earlier, and I wanted to know what they were called."

"Certainly. Why don't you lead the way, and we'll have a little look-see."

'No no no, come on, Moony,' Sunset thought. 'Don't give them the chance!'

She hoped hiding those flowers was enough.

As a group, they moved backwards, to the flower bed and its brilliant blue blossoms. Miss Globetrot examined them for a moment, eyes squinting.

"You know, I'm not quite certain. They do look strangely familiar."

"I know these!" A freckled, pale green earth filly stepped up. She had shiny copper eyes and a mass of tangled forest green hair. "They grow better in the moonlight instead of the sunlight, and they glow in the dark! If you get near them like this-" She got close, poking the petals of one with her nose. "It opens up. I love them."

"How fascinating! What are these curious little flowers called?"

"Moonstone bloom!"

Sunset watched her friend's eyes go huge, pupils dilate and irises sparkle. She looked to Globetrot with a big, doofy fanged smile.

"Can I take one? Please please please?"

"I don't believe the gardenkeeps said we couldn't... Just to be safe, only take one, alright?"

Moonstone bounced on her hooves. Before she could grab one, Tinsel stepped out. "Here, why don't you let me help?"

She came up to the flowers, tilting her head curiously, before trying to shake the bush.

"Miss Tinsel, what exactly are you trying to do?"

"I, ah-" She blushed a deep red. Sunset grinned. "I-I don't know, sorry, ma'am." She shrank back, retreating into the crowd.

"Can I have one too?" Sunset asked.

"I... suppose. No more after you two, though."

The green filly looked disappointed.

Partly blocking the bush's view with her body, Sunset lit her horn. She mimed to pluck a few heads, while sneakily sliding out three from underneath. She placed two in her hair - one hidden by her fringe - and the other in Moon's.

"Okie dokie, everypony! Onto the next exhibit. I think you're going to really enjoy this one."

The tide shifted, and Sunset followed. Moon whispered a thank you before Sunset trotted up to freckle girl.

"Pst," she whispered, tapping her on the flank. When she looked back, Sunset presented one of the flowers.

She gasped, breaking into a big smile. "Thank you! I've always wanted one for my garden."

"Here," Sunset said. "Keep it hidden." And she slid the flower deep into the emerald tangle. "Isn't it gonna die though?"

The filly shook her head. "Uh-uh. Earth magic can keep little plants alive. I think there's a unicorn spell for it, too."

Sunset considered this, nodded, and assimilated with the group.

They entered a courtyard, the biggest she'd seen so far. Like the ones before it had a wide variety of shaped bushes and sculptures, a lot more of them than before.

One sculpture drew her attention more than any of the others. It loomed over them, a tall and twisted monster with mismatched limbs. Looking at it made her uncomfortable.

It was also the one they were heading for.

"Here we are," Globetrot announced. "Would anyone like to guess the origin of this creature?"

"It's a goat!" one shouted.

"But it's got a bird hand!" said another.

"And it has two wings, but they're both different!" yelled a third.

Nearby, Sunset heard Gold laugh. "Yeah, one of them's a bat wing! Think bat girl's gonna grow up into one of those?" Emerald and Tinsel giggled with her.

To her right, she saw Moon fold her ears. Quietly, she moved them away from the trio.

"Yes," Globetrot confirmed. "It has all of those things. This is what we call a draconequus. Tales tell of an ancient time long ago when many of these roamed the land, but we no longer have solid records. This is the only depiction left in modern Equestria.

"It looks creepy," one said. "And gross."

She nodded. "That is very much the point. This statue is named Discord. Does anyone have an idea what that means?"

"I know," Tinsel murmured. Sunset wasn't sure if she hadn't moved far enough away, or if they followed her. "It means ugly."

"Ugly and stupid.

"I think if that bat grows up into one of those, she'll probably look prettier. At least she'd have a cool dragon claw."

Sunset had enough.

She pushed through the cluster of ponies. Moon reached out to stop her, but she smacked the hoof away.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Quit talking about her like that?"

"Tinsel looked abashed. "Talk about who like what?"

"Yeah," Gold said. "We dunno what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Sunset gave an equine snort, pawing the ground with a forehoof. Her horn lit, and she tossed a shield block their way, shoving them backwards. "Leave my-"

"What," said Globetrot. "Is the meaning of this?"

She stood behind Sunset, casting a long and dark shadow.

Sunset turned around, undeterred. She couldn't get a word in before Tinsel started sobbing.

"She's been bullying me all day!" she whined, thrusting a hoof at Sunset. "She keeps following me and my friends and making threats at us!"

Swan stepped up beside her teacher. "Sunset Shimmer."

She glared. "It's not true, they're lying. They've been saying ugly stuff about Moonstone this whole trip. Moony, tell them!"

"I-I... I-" Moonstone whimpered, shrinking in on herself.

"They called her an icky bat-thing, and said she's my marefriend! They were saying she'd grow up to be that!" She pointed at the draconequus. Sunset immediately tore her gaze away, though not before noticing a slight, hairline fracture in the stone. "They always try to bully us all day at school, and I'm tired of it!"

The mares' gaze shifted.

Globetrot leaned forward. Sunset shuddered from the pressure. "Is there any truth in these words?"

"No!" Emerald cried. "She's a stupid meanie liar, and an orph-"

Tinsel glared at Emerald, clapping a hoof over her mouth before settling into an apologetic look. "I guess... we've said a couple not so nice things."

The mare stood back to normal height, a stern expression stretched over her face. "I see. I am warning you girls - all of you." She dwelt on Sunset." That you are on very, very thin ice. One more outburst like this, and you will be removed from this trip. Do I make myself clear?"

Tinsel, Gold, and Emerald nodded. "Crystal."

"Sunset?"

"I..." She huffed, eyes narrow. "It's not fair, what they said about-"

"I don't care. If they bother you again, you inform either Matron Swan or myself. You do not make some big confrontation, and most of all you do not use your magic to hurt another pony!"

"I wasn't try-"

Matron Swan shot her a look. Sunset withered under the gaze. "Not. Another. Word. You and I will speak about this later."

Sunset gulped, nodding rapidly. "Yes ma'am."

Globetrot sighed. "With that nonsense out of the way, I would like to continue. As I tried asking before, does anypony here know the meaning of the word 'Discord'?"

Head down, scowling, Sunset slunk back to Moonstone.

"Why didn't you back me up?" she hissed.

Moon's eyes watered. "I'm not good on the spot. You know that. You're not angry with me, are you?"

Sunset grumbled. "No. Not completely. Mostly at them." She gestured at the trio. "And them." The mares. "It's not fair. How come I'm treated the same as they are? I wasn't the one using names."

"They're kinda right though."

Sunset's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"We should just say something if we're being bullied."

"I'm not a wuss, Moony. You gotta learn to fight on your own!"

"Can we just go? I don't wanna talk about this anymore."

"Fine."

They continued on their way, and the remainder of the trip went blessedly without incident. She would not describe it as fun, however. Tinsel had ruined any fun they might have otherwise had.

On their way back, she did manage to nab another few moonstone blooms. There were six others, beyond the three they'd taken, that Tinsel had ripped out. It took finagling, but she eventually managed to hide them all in her mane and tail.

On returning home, Swan didn't say a word to either of them. She entered her office, closed the door, and let them go to their rooms. Sunset led the way to hers, as it had become their default playspace.

Moon threw herself on the bed, idly bouncing. "Anything you wanna do? I'm in a library mood, after today."

"Sure. 'Cause you know what I gotta read about?"

"What?"

Sunset grinned, spinning as she shook her head and rump. Glowing blue blooms spun out every which way. "Preservation magiiiiic!"

Moon gasped. "Sunny! We were only supposed to take one!"

"Yeah and? Didn't anypony tell you you're supposed to break the rules?"

"Not those rules!"

Sunset blew a raspberry, levitating a flower and booping Moon's nose. The head hadn't been separated long enough to die, so it opened right up and encompassed her snoot.

"Whaaaa!" Moon giggled, squirming as she scootched back. "Okay, okay! I get it."

Sunset pullled it away, beaming. "If you give me yours and I use mine, I'll have eight whole flowers to practice on."

Behind them, they heard hoofsteps approaching, wooden floorboards creaking.

"Buc- I mean, uhm. Nevermind!"

Sunset grabbed all the flower heads in her magic. The hoofsteps got closer, doorknob turning. She swivelled her head, choosing a random drawer of her desk and throwing them inside, slamming it shut.

Matron Swan entered. Her focus flicked between Sunset and Moonstone's panicked expressions.

"Are you two fillies alright? Have I suddenly become a ghost without my noticing?"

When neither replied, her attempt at a smile faltered.

"Oh well. I have no choice but to see this through. Moonstone, you don't need to be here for this. I only need to speak with Sunset."

Moon shook her head. "I wanna stay."

"This isn't up for debate. Leave the room, now." She pointed at the door, and Moon reluctantly hopped off the bed. Once the door shut, Swan looked Sunset's way.

"Sit, sweetling, we need to talk." Sunset did as asked, and Swan sat opposite. "I want you to know that I'm not angry, just disappointed. Can you please tell me what today's little... incident was about?"

She stared at the floor, drawing circles in the rough, grayish wood. "I already told you. They were calling Moonstone mean names, and I wasn't gonna take it anymore." Her voice rose as she spoke, eyes gradually rising to meet Swan's head-on. "They don't just bully her, either. They're mean to both of us, all the time. I'm tired of everypony that's older than me telling me I'm not allowed to defend myself and my friend! What's the point of standing up for yourself if whenever you try you get treated the same as the jerks who started it!"

Matron Swan listened. Intent. Careful. Cautiously, she placed a wing over Sunset's back.

She pushed it away.

"Sweetling, you need to understand. Standing up for yourself and the ponies you love is important, but there is a time, a place, and a correct manner in which to do it. In some cases you cannot handle it alone, and in those instances you be the bigger mare. Your anger and reaction is what fillies like them are after. Don't give them what they want. They'll get bored eventually, and move on to someone else."

"And how is that any better? Somepony else gets bullied instead of me? Somepony who doesn't know how to fend for themselves?"

"Listen-"

Sunset stood up, stomping a hoof. "No you listen!"

She quickly regretted her words.

Matron Swan rose to her full height. Wings spanned and back straightened, gaze cast down, she held all the regal imposition of Princess Celestia herself.

"You will not speak to me in such a way, Sunset Shimmer. I have been kind. I have been patient. I have been understanding, beyond the point at which most would be done with you and your antics. You will ignore these fillies, and that is the end of it. If I hear one single syllable so much as breathed in their direction, you can consider your entry into Celestia's School withdrawn! Am I understood?"

Sunset trembled.

"Y... yes, Matron."

"Good." Matron Swan snapped her wings to her sides, and turned to leave. She didn't offer another word before clicking the door shut.

Sunset didn't notice it open, nor Moonstone slink inside until she felt big, leathery wings wrap around her.

"Are you okay?"

Sunset continued to shake. The moment tears threatened to breach the surface, she sucked them back in, hardened her face, and stilled.

"I... I'm fine."

The lie came so easy.

She thought she'd like magic class.

She guessed she did. She liked her new teacher, Mister Crystal Ball, quite a lot.

But everything was so... simple.

She'd read all of this before. She'd done all of this before. Ever since Matron Swan signed her up with the School, she'd been studying her flank off with the basics.

Now, here, she was totally overprepared. She got As and A-plus marks with the same difficulty it took her levitating candles.

Which, going by the standards of her fellow unicorn classmates, was actually pretty hard.

On the other hoof, finally getting her grade bumped up was nice. The rest of her classes had a bit of challenge for once, thank Sun. She was also in Moonstone's grade bracket now, so they spent lots of time together.

Plus, she didn't have to deal with Tinsel's trio as much. They still butt heads at recess or in the halls, but Sunset didn't have to handle her in class anymore. Good riddance to Bubbling Brew and Cosine, too. And, as Matron Swan had commanded, she hadn't been throwing any fuss.

As for magic class, one of the main things she did enjoy was learning about the other tribes. What topics she did read hadn't covered them very well, or she hadn't cared that much and skimmed over. Now, non-unicorn magic entranced her.

Pegasus magic was the most obvious. They could fly, and she also learned how they made and scheduled the weather. That helped regulate the seasons, crop yields, and the harvest cycle. They could also walk on clouds and shape them into all sorts of things. Like Cloudsdale, a city rivaling Canterlot in its own right.

She did find it a little strange. How they got to keep their own special homes just for themselves, because they were the only ones born with the ability to navigate them?

It didn't feel very fair. She hated how much better Middle and Upper Canterlot had it, but at least Canterlot wasn't just unicorns. They had all kinds of ponies - even thestrals like Moon.

Once or twice she heard, a griffon or zebra stopped by. She'd never seen one for herself, only ever heard bad things. Before meeting Moon though she'd heard bad stuff about bad ponies too, and now a bat pony was her best friend.

At the moment, the lights were off, and Mister Ball had up a presentation diving deeper into earth tribe magic. They didn't appear to have much from what she'd seen, not compared to unicorns and pegasi, but they did have it.

"As you can see by these comparative yields, this is why earth ponies often earn jobs as farmers, botanists, and florists. Many ponies argue it's in their nature. Others believe it has more to do with the environment you grow up in. After all, if the world you know is farming, botany, and flower raising, what kind of interest or job do you think you would have?"

Moonstone, beside her, poked Sunset's wither. She raised her hoof.

"Yes, Sunset?"

"Botany, farming, and flower raising?"

"Correct as usual!"

His magical presentation switched to the next slide. On it she saw three photos - a brown pegasus with a flower pot cutie mark, a blue unicorn with a cloud cutie mark, and a magenta earth pony with a nebula cutie mark.

"Looking at these three ponies, from their tribes, colors, and cutie marks, what do you think their special talent is?"

"Sunseeeet," whispered Moon.

Sunset raised her hoof.

"Sorry, Sunset, but you've answered quite a few questions already. Why don't you give the others a shot, hm?"

Sunset sighed, slumping into her desk. The prodding increased.

"Sunset. Sunset. Sunset. Hey Sunset!"

Sunset glared, hissing," What?"

"Wanna read this cool story I wrote?"

"Not now. I'm trying to listen."

Moon continued to poke her, but she ignored it. Ball's voice came back into focus, and she was frustrated she missed the initial answer and reply.

"-destiny is not determined by your tribe. Nor, should it be said, is destiny determined by your cutie mark."

Sunset's ears perked, and she raised her hoof once more.

Crystal Ball sighed, but allowed a small smile. "I suppose asking questions is different from answering them. You are going to ask a question, yes?"

"Mhm, mhm! You said cutie marks don't determine your destiny, but I thought they were your destiny. Which one is it?"

"You're correct on both fronts, actually. Cutie marks do determine your destiny, but what that destiny means is specific to you, how you interpret it, and how it can change over the course of your life. Take mine, for example."

He presented his flank, a desaturated mid-tone blue containing his namesake.

"It can be interpreted in a wide variety of ways. Perhaps I was born to be a fortune teller - that's what I believed when I was little - or I could have become a master artificer. In my case, as I grew up, I realized my talent had something to do with both magic and the future. I discovered that I wanted to show the next generations the beauty, complexity, and fascination behind pony magic. Yet, had my life gone down a different path, I easily could have become something - and somepony - else. But! You won't have to worry about this for a while. You're all quite young, and many of you have yet to receive your own. Just remember that when you do, it's not the end of the world. Only youu can lead the life you want to lead."

Sunset didn't realize she'd been leaning forward, until the table dug into her gut. Falling back into her seat, she mulled over her teacher's words.

She'd given the meaning of her cutie mark lots of thought since receiving it. Nearly every pony with a celestial object on their flank became a master caster, and she'd never considered it being anything else.

She glanced down, looking into the swirling sun. Red and yellow, one dark, the other light.

Fascinating.

The lights flicked on and the presentation ended. She pouted, wishing she could have a little longer. Surely, in Celestia's School, they'd have longer classes, or at least more classes dedicated to magic.

"That's a wrap for today, class. Remember your homework on pegasi cloud structures is due on Friday, but before you go I have a new assignment for you all."

The room 'Awww'ed.

"Now now, you'll have plenty of time to finish. Granted, that means I'll be setting higher standards than usual. Approximately one month from now I'm expecting either a presentation or demonstration on the wide and versatile uses of cross-tribe magic. If you intend on a demonstration, you must choose someone as your project partner. Any questions?"

Moonstone raised her hoof. "Can I work with Sunset?"

"Of course! I presume you will be demonstrating unicorn-pegasus cooperation?"

She wrinkled her snout. "No. I'm not a pegasus. I've got thestral magic."

Ball rubbed his chin. "Do you now? How intriguing, I had no idea thestrals possessed any unique abilities."

As Ball turned away to address everyone else, Sunset saw Moon's back hunch and fangs bare. She reached out, carefully brushing a wing. "Is something wrong?"

A low, guttural hiss rumbled in Moonstone's throat. "I'll tell you later."

Sunset nodded, and together they gathered their things. After clipping her saddlebag to her side, she helped Moon hasten along hers. Along with the solo students they squeezed out as all the partnering ponies bickered and formed a line. Once they were in the halls and out of earshot, Sunset stopped her at the lockers.

"Soooo," she said. "What's up?"

Moon brought up her wings, partly shielding herself. Sunset recognized the posture.

"I hate living with normal ponies! Nopony takes me seriously."

"I take you seriously."

"No, I mean- That's not-" She sighed. "you're right, I'm sorry. But nopony else does! Did you hear what he said?" She put on a silly voice. "'I'm Mister Ball, I teach magic, except I didn't know thestrals had their own kind of magic! Durrrrrr.'"

Sunset's hoof came to her mouth, stifling a laugh. Collecting herself, she admitted, "I didn't know, either."

"That's different. You just started learning. He's a teacher!"

She nodded. "I guess I understand." Closing in, she pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Moony. That's super dumb."

"Yeah," Moon said, nuzzling her fluff. "Super dumb."

Sunset pulled back, and bounced on her hooves. "But y'know what that means, if he doesn't know what thestral magic is? Come on, come on!"

Moon strained for an answer, finally shrugging. "I'unno."

"It means." Sunset took her by the withers, shaking her wildly. "We get to show him! And you've got the best unicorn in class by your side, so there's no way we can fail!" For emphasis, she presented her sun-stamped rump with a wiggle.

"Yeah." Moon puffed her chest, flared her wings. "Yeah! You're right! We're gonna show his dumb Crystal Butt!"

"Uh-huh!" Sunset brought up her hoof, and Moon met it with hers. The staccato clop rang down the halls. "Follow my lead, and we'll get this done quicker than a griffon takes gold!"

After heading for next period, Sunset shook with excitement. She couldn't wait to get home and start their project. It would have a benefit in three - she could learn about thestral magic, beat everyone else in class, and show up her teacher. She did like Mister Ball, but that didn't change the fact she liked proving herself smarter than some stuffy old coot.

In other words, any adult ever.

When the bell rang they fled for home. To make returning to the orphanage more fun they played a game of tag race, with one leading and the other tailing. They drew straws to determine who stood where.

If Sunset came up short, Moon blasted off and flew ahead. To touch her, Sunset flung harmless magical orbs in her direction. If one hit, they swapped places.

If Moon came up short, Sunset ran while Moon flew behind, swooping and diving her way. To defend herself she was allowed three uses of a shield block spell, which served her well enough. Three uses was all it took to drain her reserves for a while, and they weren't full bubble shields either.

Today, she chose to dodge on her own merit. Her mana had to be at peak capacity if they were going to begin the project.

Sometimes they hurt themselves. Either Sunset would trip and fall, Moon might run into a building or against a roof, or she'd smoosh her snoot on Sunset's shield.

They didn't mind. Half the fun was the risk.

Giggling, Moonstone lunged. Sunset nearly swerved into the flickering lamp pole, in the process leaving her flank open for attack. The hoof grazed her haunch, and with little space between them and the stairs they ran together rather than swap places, windblown and laughing.

The doors opened. Matron Mayflower gave them a wide berth, calling out. "Careful, you two!"

They ignored her, hoofsteps rushing towards Sunset's room. They practically skid to a stop within, and flung their bookbags aside. Panting, tittering, it felt like ages before they could breathe and talk like normal.

Moonstone gasped, backside falling to the floor. "So, whaddyou wanna do first? I kinda need some help on that cloud assignment, or we could go to Big yam's, or or we could play buckball-"

Sunset put up a hoof. "None of those. Also we need an earth pony for buckball."

"We could ask Timber or a Matron."

She shook her head. "Uh-uh. I wanna start our project."

"But." Moon blinked her big eyes, cocking her head. "Isn't that due in a month? We don't have to start yet, do we?"

"Yeah we do, if we wanna be the best!" Sunset stuck out her lip. "I thought you were excited to work with me, Moony. Was that not true?"

Moonstone's eyes went round. She stood, shaking her head. "No, no, it is! I just... wanted to do something else first."

Sunset smiled, wrapping a foreleg around her shoulders. "It's okay, and this'll be super easy. Trust me."

Moon gave a nod. "Okay. So what now."

Sunset pulled away, hopping on her hooves. "I'm a unicorn, so I know a lot about what I can do. But what can thestrals do?"

"Weeeell." Moon tapped her chin with a wing. "If a thestral focuses really hard, we can make wind with our wings, but it's not like regular pegasi wind. Ours can turn into pictures and stuff, like like, hallucinations! Yeah!"

She took a deep breath. "My dad also said we can shape clouds like the pegasi, but we can turn our clouds darker without turning it into a storm cloud. He told me a really long time ago in ancient Equestria that thestral soldiers used big dark cloudcovers at night to do stealth attacks and-"

"Yeah yeah that's nice. I like the hallucination thing more, though. We should do that."

"Oh." Moonstone lowered her chin. "I thought we could do something with the clouds."

"Listen, Moony. You wanna dazzle those stupidheads and show them what you can do, right? Don't you wanna make Mister Ball look like a big dumb dummy for not knowing about thestral magic?"

"...yeah."

"Well, you're not gonna do that with some silly clouds! Bang, bam!" Sunset launched swirls of magic from her horn, punching the air in sync. The magic floated, drifting before bursting in a shower of sparkles. "That's the kinda stuff we gotta do!" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I bet, if we practice really, really hard, we can turn the whole room into a hallucination. Wouldn't that be so cool?"

"I mean, yeah, but that's really hard to-"

"Shush shush shush shush shush. No quitter talk. Whaddyou do when something's really hard?"

"Find something easier to do until you can do the hard thing?"

Sunset scoffed. "Plbbbbt, no! You keep practicing the hard thing, over and over, until you get it right! How do you think I can do this, huh?" She cast her shield block, a semi-transparent octagon of teal magic a size larger than her head.

"I guess you're right. That's not how I learned to fly, though."

Sunset elbowed her ribs. "Betcha woulda learned faster if you learned it my way."

"Or torn a wing," Moonstone mumbled.

"What's that?"

"Nothing! Fine, let's... start on the project, I guess."

"Tartarus yeah! That's it!"

Moonstone slapped a wing to her muzzle. "Shhhhh! Don't say that! Somepony's gonna hear."

Sunset rolled her eyes, pushing the wing aside. "Whatever. Now." She stamped a hoof. "Show me what Moonestone Gloom can do!"

Turned out, what Moonstone Gloom could do wasn't a lot.

The best hallucination she could make was the rough, half-coalesced form of a bouncing rabbit. The best environmental change she could do was make a three-hoof wide patch look a little darker or brighter.

Sunset had her work cut out for her.

They also needed to figure out how to work in the cross-tribe aspect. Reading up in the library, she discovered a strong enough ball of magic could, if taken in by the recipient, boost their natural abilities. She figured they could tackle this from a two-pronged approach. Moonstone would work on her hallucination magic - or 'dreamweaving', they found it was called - while Sunset bumped up her mana reserves and tried out the spell boost.

It started out small. She'd send little flecks of magic Moon's way, entering through her chest. Sometimes she'd miss the mark, and instead of fueling Moon's magic it would impact it, stinging her in the process. Moon didn't like the way it felt, but it wasn't that bad, and Sunset said she'd get better over time.

They both did. Moon didn't study quite as much as Sunset wanted her to, but they got their kicks in. Playtime practically fell away, and Moonstone kept bugging her about wanting to 'do something fun' again.

What was that supposed to mean? This was fun. She was just being a stick in the mud. She'd have an easier time if she practiced more anyway.

The third week rolled around before Sunset's flame sparked. They were in the middle of another session, Sunset coaching Moon on her dreamweaving skills.

"Hey," she said. "I have an idea."

"Y-y-yeah?" Moonstone struggled to speak. Sweat poured down her face, wings buffeting wildly and turning half of Sunset's room into a starry, celestial nightscape. "W-what's... that?"

"We should do a demonstration and a presentation. I can practice doing one like the ones Mister Ball shows us, after we do the dreamweaving thing."

"What?"

The dream fizzled out. Moon's wings drooped, and she panted hard.

"Are you serious? You're already making me work so hard! I don't even know if he'd let us do both."

Sunset frowned. "So what? And I'm working just as hard as you are."

'Honestly,' she thought. 'I'm working harder.'

"He gave us our instructions. Demonstration or presentation, not demonstration and or presentation! He's gonna fail us for not following directions! Teachers do that all the time."

"Not if we blow his socks off."

"He doesn't have socks."

"Whatever. If you're gonna be a snooty lazybat, I can make the presentation myself. It's not complicated."

"Says you."

"Yes," Sunset said, tilting her chin high. "Says me. When have I messed up recently?"

"Two months ago? The gingerbread competition?"

Sunset narrowed her eyes. "That was different and you know it."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"One, I didn't get enough time. I shoulda gotten first place, anyway. Nopony else had something anywhere near as cool as mine."

"Yours? It was ours."

Sunset waved a hoof. "Potato potahto. Point is we still have two weeks, and my magic boosts are getting better. If I save up my mana a few days before you'll have everything you need. Probably more!"

"Kay..." Moon sighed, lifting her wings. "I just wanna get this over with."

Sunset grinned, passing a bolt of energy through her friend. "Cool. Start again!"

At last, the final week arrived. True to her word, Sunset used as litttle magic as possible three days ahead. That same week before ending practice, Moonstone managed to encompass the whole room in her dream.

This was gonna be a snap. She might as well have that A-plus already!

On the day the project was due, they sat side by side. Moonstone laid slumped in her chair, Sunset fidgeting with her mane. Sunset decided they should be the last ones to act, to make the biggest impression.

Unfortunately, that meant waiting. Waiting meant thinking. And thinking meant worry.

Could she do this? Were her calculations correct? Did she have enough mana, and did Moon have the stamina? What if Moonstone was correct, and they'd get a bad grade for not following directions?

She tried to focus on the other students. A few impressed her, mildly. Most were standard, and another few laughably terrible.

The one team with all three tribes she liked the most. They gave a demonstration of how modern Equestria grew its food.

The earth ponies tilled the soil with their strength, blessing the seeds with their touch. To show this, they brought forward a planter with bean sprouts, and the earth colt Canyon made them bud.

Pegasi created the weather to form the seasons. A filly named Jet showed this by fanning wind and water with her wings, directed at the planter. The buds grew, pushing out from the soil.

Finally, unicorns enriched the land with magic, or enchanted tools with special properties. Another filly, Myst, cast a silver-tinged spell on the pot and soil. The class ooh'ed and ah'ed as the stalks pushed up, maturing in seconds.

It was the best by a mile.

Sunset was gonna whoop their butts.

As for the worst... There were a couple.

One presentation that went rambling for minutes, the colt talking on about 'magic and its influence over the ages', with no actual citations, direction, or forethought. No less than five times he read out definitions straight from their textbook. He didn't even mention cross-tribe magic once.

The next was a demonstration between unicorns and pegasi. The winged colt attempted to make a raincloud, which the unicorn would feed magic to and increase the size. They did do that, except she had to squint to see it.

Also, it didn't actually rain.

So, by the time their turn came up, she was feeling better. Leaning back in her chair, front legs crossed, a half-smirk on her snout.

"Sunset Shimmer, Moonstone Gloom. You're up."

Crystal Ball stepped aside, and they made their way to the front.

"Now, what are you two girls going to show us today? I remember something about thestral magic."

"Yes, we-" Moon began.

Sunset puffed out her chest. "That's correct, Mister Ball. Moonstone and I worked very hard on this project, but I don't wanna spoil the surprise." She looked to him, beaming. "Can we start?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. You seem quite confident."

"Oh, I am."

Moonstone got into position, Sunset taking her place opposite. She drew on her reserves, closing her eyes and picturing her mana in physical form.

Every unicorn looked at theirs differently. Some described it as dipping their hooves into a lake. Others mentioned plucking flowers, gathering sand, or drawing breath.

Sunset imagined fire.

The embers rose in her mind's eye. She stuck her hoof in, unburned, and drew the flames upwards. What might typically be a small blaze had, in days of buildup, become a raging inferno.

She squeezed her eyes tight, breathing hard. She had to be careful to not let it overwhelm her. If she did she could pass out, or worse.

The fire surrounded, but didn't engulf her. Opening her eyes they gleamed, and a massive, quivering ball of energy perched atop her horn.

"O-okay," she breathed. "Moony? I'm gonna send these over in chunks. I don't think I can manage it all at once."

Moonstone gulped, nodded. Sunset began to feed.

Swirling orbs rolled Moon's way, bleeding off the mother orb like floating bubbles. The thestral puffed out her chest, accepting them into her core and panting hard. Sweat began to bead on both their foreheads.

Sunset's reserves shrank. The sphere on her head grew smaller, smaller, until it disappeared entirely, and she didn't have a spark of magic to lift a pencil.

Looking to Moonstone, she saw her shake and jitter. Pupils dilated, her slits almost appeared like normal pony eyes. Her whole coat, powder blue, shimmered with sweat.

Mister Ball seemed perturbed. "I... hope this is safe, you two. Please tell me if either of you require the nurse or my assistance."

Moon shook her head. "N-no, I'm f-fine! T-t-totally fine."

Sunset's and hers gazes met. Sunset gave a single nod, and Moonstone spread her wings.

She beat them.

Again. Again. Again. Again.

The air visibly swung around her. The faster she flapped the more gathered, and soon it turned gray, dark, and finally black.

She spread them, and amorphous shapes bled into reality. A sea of glittering stars, spinning galaxies, and whirling nebulae. They spread out far and wide, consuming anything non-pony they touched.

The floor, the walls, the ceiling. Seats, desks, belongings, the window. A smothering blanket of cosmos devoured the whole space, until each and every one of them floated in the cradle of the universe.

Gasps rose from the crowd. Mister Ball's glasses fell down his nose. Murmured whispers and a few frightened words passed between wide-eyed, panicked foals.

"Can't... hold... it..."

Tears brimmed in Moon's eyes. Sunset encouraged her on, but she wasn't sure if she could hear.

"Gah!"

A gust of air left her lungs. All at once the dream fizzed back into non-being, as though it was never there.

Mister Ball shut his gaping mouth, and re-adjusted his specs.

Moonstone was drenched, mane sticking to her face. She collapsed, and Sunset rushed to her side, shaking her.

"Moony, Moony! Are you okay?"

Moon didn't reply for a moment. Her eyes seemed glassy, mouth opening and closing like a nutcracker. Weakly, she managed to whisper, "I'm... fine."

Sunset hugged her, helping Moon to her hooves. She guided her back to the desk, and sat her down before returning to the front.

"Well. Hm." Crystal Ball cleared his throat, tugging his lapelle uncomfortably. "That was certainly something. Would you mind explaining to the class what you just did?"

Sunset stuck on her prize-winning smile. "I would love to." She closed her eyes, checking her reserves once more, and was glad to find she had just enough flame left to draw upon. "In the form of a presentation."

She met the stallion's eye as she said it, winking. Her horn cast, lights turned off, and a teal-hued slide came into view.

Everyone stayed silent, Ball included, as she explained. The basics of thestral dreamweaving, and what it was capable of. Similarly, how unicorns could channel their own magic into a semi-physical form, delivering it to any other pony of any tribe to boost their abilities.

When she finished, she had absolutely no magic left. Mister Ball turned the lights on for her.

The room clapped, Ball included.

"Well, Miss Sunset, I'm honestly not sure what to say. You didn't exactly follow my directions-"

Oh no. Please, please, please no.

"-doing both assignments and all, but after that? I cannot in right conscience punish your grade, and I believe I speak for everyone when I tell you I'm blown away. A-plus, the both of you!"

Sunset's lips stretched into a broad, toothy grin. She bowed, wished him thanks, and returned to her desk.

"Class is out for the day. You may take your leave." Grunting, he sat behind his desk and mumbled, "I believe I have a new kind of magic to study..."

Sunset poked Moonstone. "Hear that?"

"Fwuh?" Moon lifted her cheek off the desk, blinking. "Sorry, I was sleeping. What happened?"

Sunset packed up both their things, clipping the bag onto Moonstone. "I'll tell you in the hall."

They left together, Moon occasionally leaning on Sunset for support. She had deep bags under her eyes, and kept yawning. "I need a nap..."

"You can sleep during recess. I'll keep watch so you can wake up when the bell rings."

"Uh-huh. What about the thingy again? Whaddid we get?"

Sunset, swollen with pride, gave her the smuggest smile she could manage. "A+. He said even though we didn't follow directions that we did so good he couldn't give us anything lower. Pretty cool, right?"

"Mhm."

"Y'know what else that means?"

"Mh."

"I was right."

Moon stiffened againstt her. The pressure on her side relented, and Sunset looked to see her moving away. She opened her mouth to say something.

Until she saw her face.

"Seriously, Sunset?"

"What? What'd I say?"

Moonstone deadpanned. "You know, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you don't take me seriously either."

Sunset sputtered. "Huh? What? What are you talking about?"

"Forget it. I'll see you later."

Sunset reached out, but Moon was already too far away. She watched her turn the corner, tail disappearing behind the wall.

Sunset stood there. Mouth open. Hoof out. Eyes wide.

Did she say something wrong? What did she do? Wasn't Moon happy they won?

...Together?

She didn't understand.

Author's Note

The curtain rises upon the second act. A filly takes steps down a path she does not comprehend.

Also, fun fact about this chapter.

8.6k words. Yeah. Jesus christ.

I'll admit, I'm not especially happy with that. For me, the perfect chapter length ranges between 4-6k. 7 is alright. 8 is pushing it. 10 is where I start drawing the line.

Which is why, second fun fact, this chapter is split in two. Initially, it consisted of four scenes total. I wrote the first, realized it was 4k and started to worry. Got halfway through the other and realized 'Ah shit'.

So yeah. Look forward to Chapter 8 Part 2, I guess? Or Chapter 10. I haven't quite decided. The way I've set up these dual storylines, I have to be very cautious and deliberate with how I change the structure.

Wish me luck? ;~;

Chapter 9: I'm So Sorry

Why was she up?

What was she doing here?

Standing in an empty street before dawn, the questions drifted by. Questions from a mare turned ghost.

Displaced. Dissolved. Forgotten. Nopony ahead of her. Nopony behind. Nopony to her left or right, and nopony awake, save perhaps the few as lost or stupid as her.

She was being dramatic, of course. That's what she'd always been - what she'd always done. Take normal, trivial matters and problems every regular person faced every regular day of their regular lives, and turn it into the end of the fucking world.

Brisk air whispered through the streets, singing a forlorn morning song. Did it mean anything? Could it mean anything? Did she?

She smelled the air, crisp and empty, but with traces of yesterday. It seemed to carry the scent of red wine, soup, and chocolates. All of it bitter. If Moonstone's parents didn't know about her, she never told anyone. Probably didn't even remember her name, if she remembered at all.

She shivered. Shoulda worn her jacket today. Despite being June, this high up in the mountains this early in the morning, temperatures dropped close to winter.

Glancing around, she took in her surroundings. Really, actually reflected on them. Old Canterlot was a living, breathing thing. She'd come to that conclusion the moment she laid her eyes on it after... what, ten years? More? Hard to remember these days.

She should have been able to. It was her past, after all. But her past took so many twists and turns, went through so many dark tunnels and passages, she felt beyond her age. Nineteen, turning on twenty.

She got the vague sensation she'd lost her adolescence somewhere along the way. Fillyhood innocence? Further behind than that. Reality was just catching up with her now, getting ready to rip the last shred of that time from her grasp.

She grew up too fast. She'd been forced to, by herself of course, although she blamed everyone else besides her at the time. Those first few months on Earth might as well have been years.

So what if life was unfair? It was like this for everypony - everybody, in both worlds she'd crossed. She got dealt her cards, and instead of playing them smart tried tearing them apart, setting them on fire, and hoping she'd get high from snorting the ashes.

She sighed. The roads of this tier marked it like veins, its streets like vessels. It had no direct source, no heart you could point to, but some invisible core beat regardless. It flowed with the lifeblood of commerce, of friendship, of hopes and dreams and pasts and memories she'd been a part of, and infinitely more that she never would.

Ponies were born here, centuries ago. They told tales, passing down stories and promises. Famous figures made their mark, and inspired the generations to come.

She was born inside them. She grew up hearing and reading and speaking the language this centuries-old metropolis spoke. It was where she belonged - her home, technically.

It didn't feel that way. Never did, to tell the truth.

It was fine. She was fine, or she would be. Wasn't like any of this mattered, and certainly not her made up problems. Old Canterlot breathed long before she was born. It would breathe long after she died.

Still, she couldn't help herself but wonder. In all this, how did she fit in to this city's story? Where did the mare, the strange and foreign puzzle piece called Sunset Shimmer belong?

Did she belong?

Perhaps too much time had passed for Old Canter to welcome her back. Presumptuous, of course, to think it wanted her to begin with. Her parents obviously didn't.

Perhaps, she'd simply been born in the wrong place, at the wrong time, to the wrong ponies. Maybe that's why she went to Earth and stayed there. After all, she'd never come across her human alter-ego, or even found her online. Maybe she was meant to leave this place, trade the life she used to want so badly for a life her wildest dreams could never have imagined.

Or wanted.

But she had friends. A job, a life, an opportunity, even magic. She should have been grateful.

When she was little, she thought constantly about the future, and another life. A future or life where she'd meet her parents, and hear them apologize for what they did. Or a life where they loved her enough not to ditch her on the doorstep of an orphanage, with nothing but a toy and blanket to her name.

Her name.

She snorted. Was Sunset even her real name? Had they given enough of a shit to name their daughter?

Or had Swan been the one to do that. Her old Matron never told her the details, just that she'd been dropped off at the orphanage steps on a late, dreary and rainy Friday night. So late, in fact, she was the only pony awake when it happened. What if she wasn't?

Sunset guessed she should consider herself lucky. At least they left her somewhere. At least that old stitchwork toy had her birthday on the back, in tiny sewn numbers.

She wished she found it out in a different way than she did. But, y'know, she wished a lot of things. Wishing didn't mean jack for shit.

She never brought her birthday up to anyone. Swan didn't know. Celestia didn't know. None of her friends knew. Just her. That young, she kept it secret because if she told anyone she'd have to explain how she found out.

For some reason, it hadn't crossed her mind she could've lied. Not something she'd wanted to lie about. So, she said nothing at all.

Back then, she never asked Swan to tell her more about the night she arrived. The thought crossed her mind, of course, but she never followed up.

She never asked about anything relating to her parents. Heaven forbid, it might have exposed herself. If she asked it meant she had reason to care. If she had reason to care, it clearly bothered her.

If somepony knew something bothered her, it was bad. She had to keep it inside as much as possible. Great deal that'd done her, but she did it anyway.

A part of her regretted that now.

Obviously, in hindsight, she'd look on it differently. That was always the case. Everypony examined their past at some point, reflecting and counting all the might have beens, large and small.

Sunset could admit this much to herself - she considered those more than most.

She walked. Hoofsteps rang against the gray brick patchwork. It was a tapestry of stone - some worn and ancient, craggly, some old but polished, some newly laid. The sound bounced off them, flitting between the houses to fill empty spaces with the presence of her.

She felt the tug on her throat, like she was doing something wrong. Filled with the distinct sense that she was intruding. But she kept nagging, nagging, nagging, persistently insistent like the obnoxious brat she used to be. Judging by her latest outbursts, still was.

To what end she bothered, she barely knew anymore. Closure, she guessed? A way to say "Hi, I fixed everything! I'm better now, please forgive me!"

She laughed. How selfish was that?

Her voice poured out like a gunshot, sharp and piercing. A bullet whistling by, a foreign object to this world. That tranquil quiet shattered, and for a moment it seemed the city might finally notice her intrusion.

As sudden as the laugh came, it went. Unsettled but undeterred, the early morning quiet retook its place upon the throne. Somepony must have heard her though; either she'd woken someone from a light sleep, or startled someone already awake.

Pitiful. Egotistic. Narcissist. She considered the words.

Hoping to clear her head, she continued walking. Movement gave her body something to do, turned the volume of her mind down to tolerable levels. She let the echoes of her hoofsteps guide and deliver her where ever she needed to go, whatever place she belonged.

And they did.

Whether by chance or instinct, she began to recognize her surroundings. This crossroads, that purple shingle roof with the fractal cracks, those carved names inside a heart on the sidewalk. They were familiar. She didn't understand quite why yet. Childhood memories took more time and effort to unearth than recents. Turning right, she understood.

That alley.

That corner.

It came to her in a wave. Images, sounds, and sensations flooded her brain, flicking to and fro like an agitated projector. This had been their special place. At least, she hoped it was special for more than just her. She remembered Moonstone laughing and smiling, playing along and helping her practice. Had it been real?

Here, no one bothered them. Nopony cared enough about some tucked away pocket in a tucked away street in Canterlot's own tucked away district. They could make as much noise and destruction as they wanted - to an extent. Not like they could start burning homes down or anything, though heavens knew Sunset wanted to. Fire was pretty, and she had loved watching it every chance she got.

Had. Not much anymore, although she wanted to.

The floor and walls bore signs of magical damage. Unnaturally patterned scorchmarks, gouges, chips, and spiderweb fractures suggested a history of localized, controlled, and violent upheaval. Analyzing every little crack, she couldn't help but read them as old wounds instead of what they were - a filly and her friend's innocent playtime.

She paced the perimeter. Back then, it felt huge. They'd been so little, these walls felt more like castle ramparts. She could just imagine her younger self gazing up at her in awe, over the Moon to learn more about her future.

Feebly, Sunset smiled. A forgotten memory wormed itself to the surface - her and Moonstone with cardboard swords and shields, and equally flimsy 'plate armor' battling it out for supremacy. She couldn't recall any more details than that, just the two of them playing at knights.

At the very end, she noticed a tile out of place. Loosed from the surroundings, it exposed a sliver of gritty, pale dirt.

A shiver went down her spine. A part of her both loved and hated this whole trip, going down memory lane. On the one hand- Er, hoof.

On the one hoof, she was glad to remember more of her fillyhood years. But on the other.., some memories truly were best left forgotten. Stones better left unturned.

This one? Not so much.

She'd used the dirt under that tile to practice nature magic. It had been after her first trial, but before the first exam to enter Celestia's School. At the time her thought process went that if she knew preservation magic - she really didn't - the next best thing was to learn growth magic.

For the hint of a moment, her smile twitched. Even then, it was ego that drove her on.

She never wanted to graduate Celestia's School for the sake of learning, of helping society. She attended because she wanted to be smart and powerful. She hopped from one advanced spell to the next not because she loved the process of knowledge and practice, but because she had to impress, prove she had the stronger skills, the superior intellect.

To prove, above all else, that Sunset Shimmer was better than they were.

She sighed. Celestia had no idea how lucky she was to pick Twilight.

Grabbing the tile with her magic, she slid it aside. Coarse, barren dirt made up the majority of her former 'gardening grounds'. She'd only ever managed to grow a couple flowers, and a few blades of grass. Impressive for someone her age, definitely, but nothing to win her any accolades.

Except... it wasn't just dirt. Huh?

She couldn't be sure if it was from those old attempts - probably wasn't - but a single, thin little stem pushed up from the ground. She couldn't even tell what it was. Looked more like a weed than anything, but weeds were more resilient than this tiny sprout.

Her face brightened. Warmth entered her voice. "Hey little guy." She crouched down, folding into a loaf to be on eye level. "And what's your name?"

Knocking her head side to side, shuffling around, she tried to see it from more angles. It looked about the same from each - a thin, wispy, thick at the base but tapering finger of grayish black-brown. A few twig-like branches extended from the sides, ending in dull points. It seemed to be stable, if not healthy.

Curiously, she reached out and touched it.

The stem snapped. The remainder fell onto the dirt, and broke apart into dust-like fragments. The wind carried them away, until only the dead root remained.

Dead. Hadn't been alive to start with.

A lump pushed up her throat. She bit it back down, choking.

Smile gone, she slid the tile back in place. Fully in place. She'd seen enough.

She turned to leave for somewhere else. Where to, again she couldn't say. Anywhere but here, really.

On the wind, she caught the scent of ash.

She found herself meandering. Eventually, familiarity worked its gradual way to the unknown.

She'd never been to this part of town, neither then nor now. The haggardly stitched pathways gave way to clean, polished stones. They resembled Middle and Upper Canterlot's in function, though not in form, retaining that gray and bluish slate or granite, but the most damage spotted an occasional chip or dimple.

The homes, too, struck her as a blend between Lower Canterlot's old-style homes, and the higher levels' fanciful architecture. She didn't see one below two stories, all with painted walls of white and pastels and clean, well-looked after roofs. Pots and planter boxes or other ornaments decorated the balconies, here the norm rather than the exception, with latticed windows shuttered by polished wood blinds.

It even smelled different. Only in its absence did she notice the lack of faint, pungent alcohol and detritus. In its place, the scent of fresh grass, flowers, perfumes poured into her lungs. Nothing as expensive as the Uppers but certainly comparable to the Middles. Wealthy, but tasteful.

What was this place? How had she never noticed it before?

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she moved to the right, traveling on the sidewalk instead of the street. On her way, she passed gardens, benches, trashcans, nearly all of them spotless. Not a hint of graffiti, cracks in the infrastructure, long-abandoned homes with dark, peering windows.

So caught up in looking around, she forgot to look ahead. Quick as that, she found herself in what instinct told her must have been the market district. It matched the neighborhoods behind her, so bougie and manicured. She wasn't sure whether she was annoyed or jealous - probably both - and which of those two she would rather be.

By the time she reached the cafes and restaurants, the dusky sky began to lighten. Murky gray-blue shone more vibrantly, Stars disappearing, clouds drifting by as the Sun peeked out. She smiled, wondering if Celestia got up earlier or later than her.

Pondering whether to head back, her body made the decision for her. Her stomach growled, a restrained feline roar. The kind that wouldn't stay civil for long.

She'd been walking for at least a couple hours. Stint like that made a girl hungry.

The vast majority of stores were closed, but not inactive. Behind locked doors hooves clopped, words murmured, objects moved. Heat carried the whiff of baked goods on the air, floating through open windows or vents. The beast growled again.

She spotted the perfect place two blocks up, its placid green sign flipped to 'Open'. The building was made from porous stone painted beige, with a tan and terracotta-red awning hanging over the glass storefront.

'Boris' Boba'. Score. If there was any tea she liked more than white, it was boba.

She veered inside, chimes alerting her presence. The inside reminded her of any standard tea or coffee shop from Earth, and amusingly familiar RNB played from unseen speakers.

"Oops, ouch, ow!" Behind the counter, beyond a wall, an accented voice swore, bumping into pots and pans. Belatedly, a gray-furred griffon stepped out from the back, and she struggled to hide her laughter.

"Mein apologies, fraulein." He smiled with his silver beak, green eyes calm despite the earlier commotion. "I do not expect customers this early."

She chuckled. "Why do you have the sign as Open then," she asked, jerking her horn to the front.

"Ah, well." He swiped his claws through his plumage, as if flicking away invisible sweat. "You know how it is. Business opportunities!" His grin widened, puffing out his white-feathered chest, spotted with black quills. "I am the only one who opens this early, and I take great pride in it. And you are here, nein? Clearly this strategy has payed off! Now, what may I get for you today? I have never seen you before; I could provide recommendations if you so wish!"

This griffon fascinated her. She always heard griffons were persnickety, though she'd never met one herself until now. Evidence argued with stereotype.

She pondered, scanning the menu. "It all looks pretty good, but I'll take whatever your favorite is." She grinned back, a chaotic twinkle in her eye. "Surprise me."

"Ja ja, one Black Forest Boba coming right- Oh. I have ruined the surprise. Oh well!"

Before he left, she called out for a bagel sandwich. Darting away, he left her alone. She found a place to sit, a comfortable iron chair beside a round blackwood table. She didn't wait for long, him zipping out in a hoofful of minutes to hand her the drink and meal.

She took it gladly, retrieving her bits from the ether, connected to Twilight's Bag. He passed four back to her. "First buyer's treat," he winked. "You may join our rewards program if you come around often."

"That's okay, thanks. I'm only here for the month."

He nodded amiably, wings slightly down. She turned away, ignoring the mild guilty sensation, and tucked in. She finished quickly, pleased and satisfied.

She got up, ready to leave and do more exploring. It would give her the space and reminder she needed to figure where she wanted to go next, who she wanted to see.

She didn't get the chance. The chimes rang again, and a mare stepped inside that made Sunset stop dead.

The mare didn't notice her, not immediately. She seemed surprised at first to find somepony there this early. Then, she saw Sunset's face.

"Tinsel?"

She'd grown up slender, elegant. Her curls had grown out, and the weight of them pulled down on her mane, so they went from waves into springy gold-platinum ringlets at the bottom. She had her cutie mark too, a fireworks explosion of shiny metal confetti with a star at its center.

Tinsel took a step back, raising a foreleg. Defensive gesture.

"Do I... know you?" Her flecked eyes darted left and right, searching for a place to stare that wasn't Sunset.

Sunset tried her best to wear a smile. "We went to school together. Prism Elementary?"

Prism Elementary stood for Ruby Prism, the noblemare who established various institutions in her name early in Old Canterlot's life. Over the centuries, with the dissolution of the Prism Estate, it degraded into any ordinary school, days of prestige far behind it.

"Right. I, uhm. I think I remember. What was your name again?"

Sunset had the vague notion Tinsel might follow her question up with another. 'Orphan girl?'

She didn't. There was no malice, no blade in her words.

"Sunset Shimmer."

Tinsel nodded, swallowing. Boris burst into the front, wings flared and beak beaming before he saw the two, their expressions. He and Tinsel conversed with their eyes in the way only those who knew each other could.

He retreated.

"Yes. I'm... I'm sorry how I treated you."

Sunset eased her smile. "Not a big deal. We were kids." She held out a hoof to shake. Tinsel flinched. Sunset cringed, setting it back on the floor. "How've you been?"

"Fine, I guess."

They stayed quiet a fraction too long. Tinsel shuffled on her hooves. Sunset's ear flicked.

"You... still friends with Gold and Emerald?"

A spark lit up Tinsel's eyes. Not a bright one. Not a happy one, if she read her right.

"No," Tinsel said flatly. A dead, factual statement, delivered in the way someone did when forced to confess. Sunset didn't like that she'd been the one to push it.

She pressed on. "What happened?"

"Gold's dad found a good job. They moved to Midtown a month after you left." 'Midtown' was the colloquialism Old Canters used to refer to the Middle tier, usually as a pejorative. "Emerald and I didn't have much in common, so we... stopped seeing each other, after a while."

"I'm sorry," Sunset tried. It was trite. Hollow words. "That must have been rough."

Tinsel bristled, narrowed her eyes. "Yeah. It was."

"You know," Sunset mumbled, hoping to salvage this disaster with a confession of her own. "I always thought your family was rich."

It seemed to work. Tinsel snorted, a genuine laugh, but a bitter one. Sunset could tell the bitterness wasn't meant for her.

"My family? Rich." She laughed again, harder. Her foreleg rose again too, elevated not retreating. "We did okay for Old Cant standards. Do you think I would've been in Prism Elementary if we were rich?" Her tone sounded accusatory.

Sunset chewed her lip. "Guess not."

"It is what it is. I live here in Springside these days, so I did better than my parents, at least."

Sunset nodded. She didn't know what to say, so she said nothing at all. "I get you." She stuck out her hoof for the second time. "It's been nice catching up?"

Tinsel's hoof didn't move to meet hers. Sunset put it back down.

Tinsel gave a non-committal shrug. "Sure. It's been something."

Before Sunset got in another word, Tinsel started to move around her.

"Wait." Tinsel stopped, glancing over her shoulder. "You told me sorry, about what you did. I..."

Sunset gnawed at her cheek. Memories flashed through her skull. Memories of jeering, then fire, snow, something red, black, and blue.

Cracking. Blows. Sobbing.

"I wanted to say, I'm sorry, too."

Tinsel's ears folded, tail tucked between her legs. "It's fine. We were kids, like you said."

She didn't offer anything more, and neither did Sunset. As Tinsel reached the counter and met Boris, Sunset discretely slid more bits from the ether, landing them on the countertop in front of Tinsel. Thirty in total, enough for a full breakfast meal.

She left before Tinsel said anything. The door opened, then closed behind her with a chime.

The chill hit her like a wave. Hints of malformed snowflakes perched on her nose, like speckled dust. A cold front had blown in from the North, or down from the snowcap.

She wanted to go somewhere warm. Somewhere she knew. Somewhere, with someone else, she had to apologize to.

She headed West.

The front didn't last for long. It reached its peak by the time she got where she wanted, and the ghost-like powder of snow melted by the time she left.

The Sun hung at its zenith. Sunset carried a cardboard box on her back, strapped in place with the spare leather the new Head provided.

She didn't need to. She could use magic. Tow it alongside her in the air, easier, better, more stable that way. But she liked the weight of it, light physically, and in all other senses the opposite.

She hadn't teleported back either. She carried it the whole way, up the stairs, one by one, until the Sun's hot rays and raw exertion made her spring into sweat. It clung to her coat, matting it down with a faint, glimmering sheen.

She told herself she liked the effort. She told herself she liked the exercise. She told herself, she told herself, she told herself.

She didn't have to tell herself anything to know she felt numb.

She got halfway to the Staff Halls when she heard cawing up ahead, and a smooth, pleasant voice soothing the bird. Her ears perked, recognizing both.

Celestia turned the corner, Philomena perched on her wither. "No, Phila. I do not care how much you complain, Zebrican birdseed cannot be every meal of your- Oh! Sunset Shimmer." She stopped, Sunset too, smiled politely.

Philomena's beak clacked shut. Hers and Sunset's gazes met. Sunset remembered another bird, tech and metal, perched on someone else's shoulder.

"Princess," Sunset faltered. "Philomena."

Philomena chirped. It took all of a second for her to leap off Celestia, swoop in, and crash into her.

Sunset chuckled, holding the press in her ribs at bay. Hold back the choke in her voice.

"Hey, Mena," she whispered. Philomena cooed, rubbed at Sunset's tender neck. Sunset nosed her plumage.

She looked at Celestia. "You kept her."

Celestia smiled. "I did. Why would I not?"

Sunset blinked the beads away. "Fair enough," she laughed. "Thank you. It's been a long day."

Philomena found her favorite spot, flapping up to perch on Sunset's head. Her claws stayed soft, holding the hair but not gripping it.

Okay. Maybe gripping it. A little tight, but nothing Sunset couldn't handle. She'd let Philomena have that.

"So," Celestia began. The lightness in Sunset's head dulled. The knot of unknown dread formed in her stomach. 'So,' she repeated, mentally. Too much weight on that word.

"So," Sunset said.

"Have things gone as you expected?"

Mhm. There it was.

"Not... exactly." Sunset couldn't help looking down. Philomena squawked, scrabbled. Sunset restrained a shriek as the talons scraped her scalp, and she righted her head in a moment. "I'm not having the best luck right now. Ponies I wanted to see, and can't find."

Can't find? Liar. Won't find.

"Is this a bad thing?"

'Yes,' Sunset thought, but she didn't say it. She had her expectations. Life, as usual, snatched them from her hooves and made her choke on it.

"I don't know yet." This lie came harder.

"I see." Celestia's smile waned neutral. Her eyes were no less warm. She moved in, placed a wing under Sunset's chin in an old, familiar way that made Sunset shudder.

Celestia wasn't the only mare in her past who did that. The lump bobbed in her throat.

"I will be here, if you ever wish to speak. Reconciling can be a difficult task."

'How would you know that?'

Sunset kicked the spiteful thought aside. That wasn't fair to Celestia. Crown only knew what she'd gone through in over a thousand years of living.

Sunset eased back, removing herself from the contact. "Thank you, Princess, I appreciate it." She smiled stiffly. "But I'll be alright. I have a lot more to do, so it's not my last chance."

Celestia nodded morosely. A thought seemed to pass through her eyes, but she didn't speak it. Sunset found the similarity to herself sadly amusing.

"Well then, if you do not mind, I'll be on my way. Philomena and I were headed for our afternoon spa. Would you like to join us?"

Sunset shook her head. "I'm good. Wanna get this-" She nudged her right wither, making the box jostle. "Back to my room."

Celestia nodded, wordless again. She paused, staring off into the distance before she focused. Her smile returned. "Since you are here, I'd like to make a proposal. You are here until the end of this month, yes?"

"Mhm."

"The Summer Sun Celebration will be held towards the end of this month. If you and your friends on Earth should be interested, I'd very much like to have you. Just so long as they keep their heads down to avoid any unwanted attention." She tittered, winked.

"That... could be nice, yeah." She spoke with a bit more confidence. "Yeah, no, totally. I'd love to show them more about Equestria. When is the Solstice this year?"

"June twentieth."

Sunset blinked. Blinked, blinked, blinked.

Tge twentieth. Two weeks and change from today.

Her smile stumbled, but didn't break. "Sure. Twentieth works."

Starlight left a sticky note on the desk. 'Out for Lunch with Trixie.'

Sunset peeled it off The North March, crumpled it up, threw it in the trash. After today, it made her feel...

Not good. But better.

She undid the strap, and slid the box safely onto the bed. She wanted to open it. Horribly. Peek inside, see what she left.

She couldn't. She couldn't face it, not yet.

She had to hide it from Starlight. Looking around, she settled on the underside of her bed. The comforter covered the sides, and there was just enough space to push it in with a little effort. The cardboard bent, tape whined, but didn't break.

She climbed into bed with a grunt, grabbing her book from the side. Twilight would kill her, but she used dog-ears in place of a bookmark. Finding the chapter, she read.

'Chapter 9: What Led to the Fall?

In the realm of Crystal Imperial history, speculation runs rampant. With its return, Sombra's defeat, and the reign of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza - adoptive niece of Princess Celestia and sister-in-law to Princess Twilight Sparkle - the crystal ponies have introduced their own voices to the historians' chorus. Yet still, little is known.

Towards the end of the North March campaign, Princess Luna acting as General for Equestria's army, King Sombra was well aware of their approach. In the chaos, he ordered his staff and scribes to burn or otherwise bury as much documentation as they could. They were successful to a large degree.

As a result, firsthoof sources are rare and far between. In fact, prior to the return of the Empire and its ancient population, there were no firsthoof sources available anywhere. Historians had to craft and create their narrative based upon what they had from the Royal vaults and academies. It is rumored there is more information under the ownership of Princess Celestia, although there is no evidence to back this up beyond the occasional former staff's testimony.

Nevertheless, access to the Empire and statement from the crystal ponies have given us the clearest lens into the past than we have ever gotten. The single most powerful question remains - why? Why did the War happen? How did King Sombra, once a kind and benevolent ruler of his ponies, become a dark and twisted version of himself?

The Alicorn Amulet receives the most blame, but the question that ponies forget in this accusation is why he built it in the first place. What pushes a pony to build such an artifact? What circumstances would lead someone to such desperate measures? In this chapter, we will attempt to answer this question based on contextual history, surrounding events, long-running sociopolitical trends, and the nature of dark magic itself.'

Starlight arrived half an hour later. The chapter gave Sunset a lot to think about, and too much of what she saw resonated. She pushed it aside, book too, and sat up.

"Hey," Starlight said. "You look concerned."

Sunset brushed the fringe out of her eye. "Do I?"

"Mildly. Went out today?"

"Yup."

"Anything fun?"

"Not really."

Starlight considered. "Going out to eat twice in one day feels a little extravagant, but... You look miserable, no offense. Wanna find some place for dinner?"

Sunset's eyes widened. "Uh. Yeah. Sure, why not. We could do that. Where?"

"Could go to Old Canterlot. I really did like that-"

"No."

Sunset regretted the word. Spoken too loud. Too quick. Too sharp.

Starlight tilted her head. "Should I ask?"

"You won't get an answer if you do."

Starlight shrugged, smiled. "Fair enough. Where do you suggest, then?"

"How about Uptown?"

"Uptown?"

"Sorry, Old Canter habit." Sunset pushed past the confusion on Starlight's face. "Uptown means Upper Canterlot, Midtown means Middle Canterlot."

"I see." Starlight rubbed her chin. "Upper Canterlot's pretty fancy. I feel like we'd stick out too much." She gestured to herself, her clothes, Sunset's jacket laid over a chair.

"We'll be fine. I have the bits."

Starlight giggled. "Ooh la la. I'm being taken out for dinner by a fancy mare."

Sunset got up and stuck out her tongue. "Not a fancy mare, far from it. I just got royal connections." She popped Twilight's Bag from the shelf and jangled it around. It sounded like a lot more bits in there than it looked like it could hold.

"Royal connections, leather jacket, bad girl attitude. Keep it up and you'll make a pony swoon."

Sunset blushed, shoving the Bag back in the drawer. "R-right."

"So, Upper Canterlot it is. Any recommendations?"

"Mh, I'm not that familiar with that part of the city. I know somepony who will, though."

"So, recommendations for Upper Canterlot?"

Raven Inkwell folded her hooves, chin atop them, humming in thought. Using her magic, she swirled the freshly brewed tea in her cup. She lifted it up to her lips, drank, and rolled her chair over to one of the many file cabinets in her office.

"There's a list in here somewhere. I have a good enough memory to know most of them, but obviously," she chuckled. "No one is perfect. Do you girls have any cuisine in mind? Neighponese, Bitalian, Prench...?"

She ruffled around in the folders, finding it while Sunset and Starlight thought.

Raven was a native of Upper Canterlot. Sunset didn't know much about her life beyond that, and the occasional insights she got being in the palace with her when she - they - were younger. She didn't know her age then, only her age now. It made Sunset feel ancient.

"Not really," Sunset replied, shaking her head. "Anywhere's fine I guess."

"Hmm... Aha! There it is." Raven pulled out a folder labelled 'Personal 1'. There were another fifty like it.

Raven hadn't reacted to her arrival in any particularly strong way. Surprise, maybe, but more at the interruption than her presence. "Sunset, right?" she'd asked, as if she didn't remember.

Maybe she didn't. They hadn't interacted much, or for any extended periods of time. It had also been nearly five years and, being the Princess' Head Secretary, ear to the ground of all domestic and foreign happenings, she had little reason to remember who Sunset was.

"Let's see... The Grove is this wonderful little Marisian restaurant, but they don't have a direct menu. They... oh. They're also closed on Mondays. Okay, okay... The Tasty Treat does Hindian, although they're in Middle Canterlot, not Upper. Ahh.... Dune does Saddle Arabian, La Magia does Salbitoran, there's another Prench ooone.... Oh! How do you feel about sushi?"

"Love it," Sunset cheered. "I actually work as a sushi waitress back ooooooon-" She drew the vowel too long, realizing her mistake. Raven looked at her quizzically. "Back in my city."

Raven nodded, showing her the file. She pointed to the restaurant name with a pen. "It's called Noori. You can order a la carte or all-you-can-eat, but it's very pricey. They also have a strict formal dress code."

"What kind of dress code? Starlight asked.

Raven closed the folder. "The kind that says mares wear dresses, and stallions wear suits. It's old-fashioned, not much a fan of that myself, but the quality's to die for."

Sunset frowned. "Not usually one for dresses, but I guess I'll make do." She mumbled under her breath, "Uptowners..."

Raven quirked a brow. "Uptown? Oh! You must be from Low Canterlot. I thought I recognized your accent."

Sunset bit the remark bubbling in her mouth. 'Low' Canterlot, really. A small difference between Old Canters and the other tiers, not meant spitefully, but she'd heard it used that way in the past. "Didn't know I had one."

Raven waved a hoof. "That's accents for you. If you'd like some help, my tailor lives here in the palace. I'm sure he can find you a dress you'll like."

"Works for me."

"Great. I'll call him in, and book you two a reservation."

She did so, asking their preferred time while they waited for her tailor to drop by. He did by the time the reservations were made, and whisked them off to his studio.

Sunset learned he was more than just Raven's tailor, but made clothes for all the high-ranking staff here, Celestia included. Him and Rarity would hit it off well. He was just her kind of snooty.

Stitching a dress from hoof would take days, so they went through a wardrobe about as wide and three times as long as her apartment. She gawked at the ostentation of it. Starlight found hers easily. Sunset was pickier. Eventually, they settled on something that she liked.

It wasn't a long dress, closer to cocktail without as much fur showing. She wanted sleek, tight, not sexual. It was black, trimmed with gold and had a large split down the collar that showed her chest. If she was human, she'd have been indecent without a bra.

She wished she brought one of her collars with her, maybe the spiked one, but it turned out he had a nice choker that paired with it. Black, lacy, a clear and finely cut Pigeon's Blood ruby at its center. she was striking. The dress and accessory suggested the idea of a kickass leather jacket, without actually being a kickass leather jacket.

Starlight chose more feminine, more flowing, with seams that showed off a bit of thigh and cutie mark. It matched the blue of her eyes, and faint, twinkling constellations had been stitched into the cloth with glittering silver thread. To mirror Sunset, she picked out a silver pendant with a four-pointed aquamarine star at its center.

By the time they left, Starlight's watch said it was close to seven. Celestia had already set the Sun to setting, and Luna's Moon would rise not long after. Walking down the long flight of palace stairs, Starlight pointed at the sky.

"Between the restaurant, the price, and the dresses, it feels like we're going on a date."

Sunset stumbled. She caught up quickly. "I... guess it does a little, yeah."

They arrived a few minutes late. The mare at the front looked ready to turn them out, but Sunset pressed a seal onto the smooth granite desk.

The Royal Seal of Entry. There were three similar such seals, one for Authority, another for Arms, a final one for Approval. They proclaimed official federal business, military involvement, and accolades respectively. Sunset's, the one for entry, implied they were staff or guests of the Tetrarchy and as such were allowed entrance to any location for any reason except for their own safety. Raven gave them two before they left, and it worked in their favor.

The mare bowed and sputtered an apology. "I did not realize. Please, come, come."

She shepherded them to their seat, a round white marble table with a flickering paper lantern at its center. The interior was dark, dimly lit with a dull red from more lanterns and stringlights above. In the middle of the whole thing stood a kitchen area, walled off with black granite counters where sushi chefs prepared the rolls live.

The mare left and came back with their waiter, before quickly departing. He gave them their menus, and Sunset balked at the price.

Forty bits a roll, at minimum. Two-hundred for the all-you-can-eat special.

The waiter bowed. "Good evening, ladies. Is there anything I can start you off with this evening?"

"Just water for now," Sunset said, then added, "Thank you," as he left.

Sunset sighed into her seat. "Knew this wouldn't be cheap. Didn't think it'd be this bad, though."

"Right?" Starlight scrunched her snout. "What are we going to do? I'm assuming you don't have the bits for this."

"Nope. Not if I don't wanna go broke." Sunset sat up, rubbed her eyes. "I don't like the thought of abusing these things, but..." She pulled out her Seal.

Starlight nodded. "Good idea. You can always ask them to bill the Crown. Diplomats get free dinners all the time."

"Since when were we diplomats?" Starlight cowed, and Sunset sighed again. "It's fine. Better that than not paying at all."

The waiter returned with their drinks. If they were going to use their Seals to order, they might as well go wild. So, Sunset ordered herself a cold sweet tea, some sake, and both put in for the all-you-can-eat.

Dinner passed by slowly. For once, Sunset welcomed it. The rest of the day had been glacial. This was the nice sort of slow, smooth, easy, friendly.

She asked about Starlight's day, Starlight told. Starlight tried again to ask about hers. Sunset kept much of it to herself at first, but the sake made her want to talk.

She still held most of it back. She was pretty awful at hiding her raw emotions, although she used to be excellent at it. Or had she just been hiding her lies?

In any case, she did tell her about the run-in with Tinsel. "So yeah. It was... strange. There was this part of me that kept thinking 'Come on, she's not nice. She's the b- the blowhard that bullied you'."

Starlight spoke around a tuna roll. "That doesn't seem entirely fair."

"No, no. It's not. I know that, but it's hard to shake the feeling, y'know? I spent so much of my life thinking I knew people, that I knew everything about their intentions and who they were and what they wanted. After a while, I started to realize I wasn't reading them. I was reading myself."

"Projection?"

"Preeeecisely." Sunset downed another shot of sake. She'd gotten tipsy by now, edges blurring at the corner of her vision, dim red a hint more bright and vibrant than earlier. She might stumble half a step if she got up too fast. Should probably stop here.

The waiter came. She ordered another one.

Sunset got herself fat on the fish. She told herself it was to balance the alcohol, but that would be a lie. For one, it wouldn't be enough. For two, she was saying that to make herself feel better.

Truth was, she wanted to gorge. She kept her meals small back home. It was a fear, a habit that stuck with her after her 'hobo' era.

And she wanted to be hot, to be sexy, so she restricted her intake and did all kinds of exercise to maintain her physique, to the degree she could rival Dash, and beat AJ in arm wrestling at least one for two.

The booze loosened her up. Didn't turn the thoughts off, but made them easier to ignore. Starlight made them easier to ignore. Chatting, dining, being in a whole other world.

It was different. This was different. She could let go. She was tired of being in control so often, and now she had a chance to relinquish some, only if for a night.

Sunset finished her sixth roll of the evening. Starlight looked at her. "Holy shiiii- Wow, Sunset. How aren't you stuffed yet? I'm still working on my third and I'm probably gonna quit after this."

"Been walking a lot," Sunset said. Wasn't a lie. Just a lot of omission.

Starlight shrugged. "Not my place to judge."

The waiter came by. "Ma'ams?"

Starlight shook her head. "Nothing for me."

He turned to Sunset. She smiled. "'nother sake?" she drawled. "And a Dragon Bomb, Griffon Snow, and some more gyoza."

He nodded, zipped off. Starlight shot her another look. "Speaking of not my place to judge."

"Yeah?"

"But do you think you've... maybe had a lot to drink?"

Sunset waved her off. "Don'worry about it." She ignored the way her syllables blurred together. "I'll be fine. Got a strong tolerance."

"How old are you again?"

"Shit, what's that matter?"

"Nothing. Nothing." Starlight sipped her water.

Sunset hadn't touched hers. Or anything besides the sake, after her tea. And she drank that about halfway before dumping a shot into it for some crappy Long Island Iced.

When they finished, Sunset couldn't hide the fact she was sloshed. Her cheeks burned. From embarrassment, from inner warmth, from... something about the way Starlight laughed.

'You're sick,' she thought. Stupor told her to shut up.

She drank. "God I'm a mess," she slurred.

"God?"

"Oh, right, heeheeheeheehee. Sooorry. Y'know how, like, Sun 'n Moon 'n Crown 'n junk get used here sommmetimes? Like, y'know, Sun damn it! Moon curse it! Crown above!"

A few ponies looked at the table. She was being loud. They didn't glare though, just seemed confused or surprised. Funny faces, shifting in the haze.

"Yeah?" Starlight asked.

"Well, on Earth, they got this super weird thing called, uhm. 'Religion'."

"We have that too."

"Yeah yeah but it's like, different, y'see? There are a few really big religions, nottabuncha lil' ones like we got here. Anyway, the big one in the country I'm in, they call this guy 'God'."

"God is a noun, not a name. Like Goddess."

"Right!?" Sunset cackled, slamming her hoof on the table with a hoot. "Humans are so fucking funny, oh my god. But anyway I had to start learning to start using words like 'God' and say stuff like 'Hand it over' and 'Slap on the wrist' 'cause their anatomy's not the same."

"Instead of what?"

"Hoof it over, slap on the fet. You would only say fuck instead of buck. Ain't any distinction."

"I see. I've only been there twice, and both times not for very long. It would be nice to go back there again."

"Heh. Yeah." Sunset smiled. It took effort. "Kinda missin' my friends already. Didn't think I would this quick." She sank into her seat, frowning. "Only been here five days. Buck me."

She sank deeper, blushed harder. Her hair fell over her face in a fiery waterfall. "I'm such a wreck." She said it with a smile, trying to make it jovial. "Lookit me! I'm a total mess, all drunk 'n sappy 'n shit. Prolly look like trash."

"I think you're beautiful."

Sunset froze. She blinked. Blinked, blinked, blinked.

"Wha?"

Starlight gestured, leaning back. "I think you're beautiful, Sunset. Your colors, the curls, the way you carry yourself. You can get a little out of control sometimes, but hey! I've done plenty of that myself." She tipped back her water, setting it down with a satisfied breath. "Anyone who doesn't see that is an idiot. That goes for you, too."

Sunset swallowed. Words pushed up. Caught. Failed in her throat. "I... thanks," she salvaged.

Starlight smiled, and tinked their glasses. "Don't mention it."

Author's Note

What happens when you go back to old places, to turn up old stones? Is it worth the risk of knowing? And what if the answer you get isn't the one you wanted?

At least Starlight seems to like her.

So, folks! It's been a while. Again...

And again, I apologize. I know that can only get me so far, but this whole year has been a truly exhausting drain on my psyche for all myriad of reasons, including a month-long burnout and another month of recovery.

However. Thanks to that break, and staying up to the Witching Hour, I've determined one of the reasons it's been hard picking this back up. While I've had a rough plan for this story from the start, it lacked the proper meat and bones, the well-defined direction I needed for smooth sailing.

I have that now. The story has also ballooned quite a bit compared to early plans, from just over twenty chapters to over forty. Ship's a long way to port, but the route is clear. Only thing holding me back is time.

Seeing as this marks a year from when I started this project, I've dropped quite a lot. Prologue, this chapter, and Chapters 1-4 rewritten line for line, bringing them up to my new standard. There's a lot of changes, new insights, and a variety of important continuity corrections, plus an overall higher word count. so please give them a read. Intermission I received minimal editing, but if you hadn't read it before now is a good time to do so. Those Intermissions are relevant if you want the full context of this story.

Last and most important. Please read.

In July, I will be splitting my accounts. All NSFW will remain on this profile, Incandesca. All SFW work will be moving over to Kintsugi Sunset.

If you're still here and want to continue watching my work, please follow me there. Cooling Embers is included in the transfer, so all further updates and hosting will be happening on that new profile.

Next update, I'll be bringing you Chapter 10 and a rewritten Chapters 5-8. Currently scoping out a mid-July release. Don't be shy to comment! I wanna hear whatever you have to say - thoughts, feedback, and speculation!

Until then~