It would have been so much easier if Sunset could have simply yelled for ex-Princess Luna in her dreams. Unfortunately, she was too wired by her realization to get back to sleep, and she'd never gotten a clear answer as to who was even watching over the dream realm these days.

Given the ongoing crisis, she might not have ever gotten around to asking.

Also, the Night Guard didn't trust her.

In hindsight, Sunset was willng to admit that some random unicorn bursting out of a guest room shouting "I know what must be done!" and "It's all so clear now!" was bound to set off some alarm bells. Even putting aside how poorly she usually handled waking up, she might have managed a faint glimmer of the same dreaming divination as Celestia, and her brain had not reacted well to the abrupt transition from communion with the cosmos to piloting a body she wasn't used to inhabiting anymore.

Still, returning to full lucidity only to find herself backed against a wall with five spears pointed at her didn't leave the best impression. "Is this really necessary?"

"Standard protocol with raving unicorns, miss," said the guard in the center of the formation, which might have been more reassuring if he'd lowered his spear. "You were going on about a whispering shrew in the moon revealing untold secrets."

"Might have been an opossum, actually." Sunset sighed as that did nothing to shift the guards' expressions or weaponry. "Look, I don't know how much you all know about the Princess Twilight situation, but I'm part of the group helping with it and I think I know what we need to do next."

That at least prompted some wary glances between the guards, though their spears stayed where they were.

Sunset rolled her eyes. "Come on, do you really think some crazy mare would bypass your patrols, break into a guest room, and then blow her cover with a prophetic frenzy?"

"Finals are coming up at the School of Magic," said a guard on Sunset's right.

The other nodded. "I've seen stranger just this week."

"Huh." Sunset furrowed her brow. "I'm used to students breaking into the kitchens."

"How old are you, miss?" said a guard on her left.

"That's a simple question with a complicated answer, and it's not important. Can one of you direct me to somepony with the authority to dispatch guards somewhere?"

That got several skeptical looks full of nonverbal communication that Sunset couldn't parse. The stallion in the center nodded, and the spears finally came down. "Follow me, miss," he said.

A guided tour of the chain of command followed, as guard after guard hoofed Sunset off to their superiors. She hit desk jockeys three links up and kept going until she reached an office with ornate enough nameplate that she half-suspected the previous occupant had been Princess Luna. Now it belonged to one Lieutenant Graveyard Shift. The room on the other side was as plain as it could get away with, the antique furniture and massive wall-hung map of Equestria clearly having been there longer than the stallion himself.

Said stallion, a grizzled gray unicorn with an eyepatch, looked up from his paperwork as Sunset went in and her current escort all but galloped away. Lieutenant Shift needed only a glance to skewer Sunset more thoroughly than any polearm she'd come across all night. "What?" he growled out.

It might have been intimidating if Sunset had met him four offices ago. "So. I'm—"

"I know who you are, Sunset Shimmer."

She blinked, oft-repeated explanation dying on her lips. "You do?"

Lieutenant Shift snorted. "You don't even recognize me. Can't say I'm surprised. I was one of the guards the Princess tasked with escorting you from the premises after she dismissed you as her student."

"Oh." Sunset's ears folded back as memories of one of the worst nights of her life came to mind. "And one of the guards I knocked out when I went for the mirror." She sighed. "Look, I will gladly offer a more meaningful apology than empty words once we've secured Princess Twilight, but—"

The lieutenant turned back to whatever he'd been writing. "There is no 'we,' Miss Shimmer, and there will be no activity on the Guard's part based on your word alone."

"I know where Princess Twilight is headed," said Sunset, emphasizing her point with a stomp. "I just need to tell the ponies who can actually put that information into action."

"You have a hunch, Miss Shimmer."

"We already nearly found her on one hunch."

That got a moment's hesitation out of the lieutenant, which he quickly masked by dipping his quill in the desk's inkwell. "From another version of her. Not the prodigal daughter."

"I—" Sunset took a deep breath. Shouting would accomplish nothing. "I have received full royal pardons from literally every alicorn but Flurry Heart. Going by sheer experience, I am one of our leading authorities on Twilight Sparkle in all her myriad forms. Are you seriously going to ruin our best chance to locate and retrieve the princess because of one stupid thing I did years ago?"

Lieutenant Shift spared her a glance and a scowl before returning to his work. "They're called the consequences of your actions."

There were a lot of things Sunset could have said to that. She focused on the relevant one. "This may be the biggest mistake of your career."

That managed to hold the stallion's attention and gaze. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a statement of fact," Sunset said, expression kept carefully neutral. "If I'm correct, you will be directly responsible for prolonging this crisis."

He rolled his eyes and turned back to his desk. "If."

"You make it very tempting to fall back on old habits, sir." Sunset shook her head. "But it's your choice to make in the end."

"It is. And I'm choosing not to gamble on one renegade unicorn's guesswork. Go back to bed, Miss Shimmer."

She made to leave, but hesitated midway through the turn. "Seaward Shoals," she added.

The lieutenant's quill paused mid-stroke. "What?"

"Nopony ever actually asked, and I could have said it earlier. But if Twilight's going anywhere, it's Seaward Shoals. It's not the usual order of the Cobbler-Moss model of grief, but from what I've heard, the princess has been through every stage but anger." Sunset raised an eyebrow. "And we both know who she'd be mad at for putting her in this situation."

Lieutenant Shift said nothing for several seconds, internal struggle clear in his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. The quill faintly vibrated in his magical grip. Finally, he muttered, "We will take that under advisement."

"I suppose that's the best I can ask for." Sunset glanced at a wall clock, nodded, and fully turned to the door. "Good morning, Lieutenant."

Compared to Castle Canterlot, Maretime Manor was a humble abode. Compared to most of the houses in Seaward Shoals... Well, it wasn't the most opulent home in town, but it was still respectably appointed, with two single-room wings off of the main two-story structure for each occupant's bedroom deliberately pointed at the east and west.

By that design, Celestia awoke to a sunbeam shining directly onto her face. She smiled, for she could think of no more perfect symbol of everything she had worked to achieve, no more fitting reward, than enjoying this privilege that so many of her former subjects took for granted.

With a joint-popping stretch and a jaw-cracking yawn, she happily slipped out of bed at the positively decadent hour of seven in the morning. On the edge of summer, no less! The only time she would even be able to sleep this late while on the throne was around the winter solstice, and the wheels of governance hadn't stopped turning because of a little thing like minimal daylight.

They still didn't, of course, but they were now the concern of a mare even more capable of managing them.

"Good morning, Celestia."

She turned to the alicorn lurking in the shadows of her bedroom. "You're up early, Lu—" Celestia caught herself as she registered the actual voice. "Twilight? What in Equestria are you doing here?"

Twilight tilted her head as she stepped closer, revealing a blank expression that was more terrifying than a bloodthirsty grimace. "Is something wrong? It was my understanding that the reigning princess can vacate the throne whenever she wishes."

"Ah. That—"

"With little to no warning."

"Yes, I—"

"I didn't give Raven a pair of wings before she left, but I'm sure she'll be fine." Twilight shrugged her own wings. "Not that I feel the need to test that assumption against reality."

Celestia extricated herself from her bed. Her horn briefly flared; force of habit still had her reaching for her relinquished crown. "I understand your resentment, Twilight—"

"Do you? Do you really?" Twilight began to pace about the room. "The last year has been the worst emotional wringer I've ever been through. I had multiple nervous breakdowns before I even took the throne. One was over a trivia night. If you understood my resentment, you wouldn't have abdicated." Her sclera briefly flared green, rage-warped magic bubbling out from eyes and horn alike before she collected herself. "Still, at least you put in a thousand years before clocking out. I'm going to have words with Luna when she wakes up too."

"For what it's worth, Luna does plan on returning to Canterlot once she feels prepared to rule in the modern era." Only after she said that did Celestia realize that more force of habit had slipped on the neutral mask she thought she could finally put aside.

Thankfully, Twilight just nodded and said, "That's good to know." The snarl came just as Celestia began to relax. "It would have been better to know before I had to corner you in your bedroom to find out."

"Twilight, believe me, I tried to ease you into this gently—"

"Gently compared to what?" The shout came with flared wings and enough volume to rattle the windows.

Celestia remained outwardly calm, finding herself drawing on past negotiations with dragonlords. It was proving far too similar. "Gently compared to Star Swirl vanishing into Limbo, followed shortly by a draconequus popping out of nowhere and turning the reigning Triumvirate into literal sock puppets. You got more advance warning than any of the crises I faced in the first years of my rule."

Twilight went through the same breathing exercise Celestia had taught Cadence. She was quieter afterwards, if no calmer. "Celestia. You have known me since I was eight years old. At what point in my tutelage did a few days seemed like it would be adequate notice for giving me the crown?"

"I realized my mistake and rectified it."

"After Sombra marched on Canterlot! And a few moons isn't much better!"

Celestia furrowed her brow. "If you felt this concerned about the transition, why didn't you say anything after we pushed back the timetable?"

"I did. How many times did I say 'I'm not ready'? 'I can't do this'? 'I'm not fit'? But you brushed them off and..." Twilight seemed to deflate with her sigh. "Well, you're Princess Celestia."

"Princess Emerita Celestia, Your Highness." Celestia dipped her head. Kneeling definitely wouldn't go over well right now.

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Regardless, when have I ever been able to say no to you?"

"I distinctly remember you objecting to the plan to reform Discord."

"And I still went along with it, because you're you. What was I supposed to say after you told me how much faith you had in me? 'Thanks for believing in me so much that you think I can live up to a millennium-spanning legacy of peace and prosperity, but you're wrong'?"

Celestia held back her snort, but it was a near thing. "The legacy of peace and prosperity that concluded with what historians will remember as the Thirty-Ninth Invasion of Canterlot."

Twilight narrowed her eyes. "Remember how Luna said you two were passing the torch because Equestria was going through its longest period of harmony in recent years?"

"Harmony and peace are two very different things, Twilight. Your life before moving to Ponyville was peaceful. After, harmonious." Celestia sighed as she thought back to when this particular scheme began. "I spent the last century pulling the nation out of a stagnant rut that my rule had put it in, only to find that I couldn't follow. Luna needs time to catch up on a lost millennium. You and your friends have revitalized the nation on a scale you can't yet appreciate, and it is you who are best suited to help it maintain that upward momentum."

Twilight met that with a flat stare. "You expect me to believe that?"

Celestia shrugged her wings. "Regardless of whether you do or not, it is the truth." Slowly, carefully, she approached her former student, hesitating after each step to make sure she could proceed. The two sat, one more old habit coming to the fore, though there was much more of Twilight for Celestia to drape her wing over. "Twilight, you have always been your harshest critic and greatest adversary."

That coaxed out something almost like a laugh, if far uglier. "I feel like I've gotten quite a few competitors for those titles in recent years."

"And you have humbled or befriended all of them, save yourself. Do you think I would have passed the torch if I had thought for even a moment that you were truly unready?"

Twilight wriggled out from under her, the better to look her in the eye and say, "Yet here I am after the fact, telling you once more that I am not ready."

Celestia shook her head as she got her hooves. "It really is remarkable."

"What? How mistaken you were?"

"For one, how even a few moons of rule have made you much more willing to confront me to my face." Celestia grinned in the face of Twilight's scowl, especially as it faded into confusion. "It's sincerely wonderful to have another pony who can see me as a peer rather than some shining figure to obey despite her own misgivings. But that isn't what I meant."

"What was?"

"How much you sound like I did in those first years, trying to hold Equestria together during and after Discord's unrule."

Twilight took a few moments to consider that. Celestia waited for the moment of epiphany she had seen in her student so many times before, when that brilliant mind assembled the pieces laid before it into the greater whole of the lesson.

It never came. Instead, Twilight scowled anew and said, "Is that meant to reassure me?"

Celestia blinked. "Well, given how things went once I eased into the position—"

"Think back to those early days." Twilight thrust a forehoof at Celestia. "Think about the stress you were under, the uncertainty you felt. What makes you think I want any of that?"

"I'm trying to tell you that it will pass, Twilight, and you have much to look forward to when it does." Celestia let a bit of steel slip into her gentle gaze and tone. "Consider also the stress and uncertainty you're putting on whoever has to fill your hipposandals until your return."

That got an exaggerated wingshrug. "Honestly, it's kind of nice to put the fate of the world on somepony else's withers. I see why you did with me so often."

Celestia had her own moment of contemplation. "Ah. This is about more than merely the accession."

"Not at first, but now that I've built up some momentum? Yes. Yes it is."

A solemn nod answered her. "I've been expecting this conversation since I first sent you to Ponyville. I had even dared to hope that we might not ever have it." Celestia sighed. The novelty of waking up to the sunrise had long since faded, and her morning routine was thoroughly shot. "May I at least put on some tea before we continue?"

Twilight nodded and opened the bedroom door. "I feel like we're both going to need it."

"In all likelihood." Celestia led the way to the kitchen. "I ask only that we keep the shouting to a minimum now that we're out of my room. Luna is a heavy sleeper, but she does not react well to being awakened suddenly."

"If you're trying to distract me with the question of why your bedroom is soundproofed, it's not working."

Celestia grinned. "You can hardly blame an old mare for trying."

"I'm blaming the old mare for a lot of things," Twilight grumbled.

That got a wince. "This talk is overdue, isn't it?"

"By years, yes."

Rarity was not a morning person, especially not over the weekend. Late nights of bringing inspiration to fruition or staring at blank sketch pads until it felt like her eyes would bleed did not lend themselves to greeting the dawn. Not unless doing so while going to bed counted. This led to certain frictions with a girlfriend who delighted in racing the roosters to first awake on the farm, but at least Applejack knew not to call before noon on a Sunday.

Whoever was making Rarity's phone sing out in her own voice was far less considerate. Under most circumstances, she'd have hung up on the lout and gone back to sleep.

But then she saw the caller's name.

"Yes?" Rarity croaked out, feeling much less fabulous than normal and deeply grateful that video calls weren't de rigueur.

"Good morning, Rarity," said the voice on the other end of the line. It wasn't one she heard often, but she had still made a point of adding it to her contacts because of a shared sense of concern for one girl in particular.

One girl who was no doubt the topic of current concern.

"I like to think I'm easygoing as far as parents go. I've always tried to let my kids figure out who they are and who they want to be without too much nettling or hovering. I figured you were all having a sleepover last night, but I haven't gotten so much as a text message this whole time."

Given a few hours to get her thoughts collected and her face on, Rarity might have offered a charming bit of reassurance. As it was, she mumbled, "Well you, uh, I, you see..."

"It's been almost twenty-four hours, Rarity," said Twilight Velvet. "Where is my daughter?"

Author's Note

Come, Neighrevar, friend or traitor, come. Come and look upon the Heart.
Cadence: (waves) Hello!

Maretime Manor comes courtesy of the "Season Ten" comics that closed out the G4 IDW line.

Given that I established Tempest Shadow's attack as the 37th invasion of Canterlot, Sombra and the Terrible Trio make 39. (The swans don't count; they were already there.)