But the Sun Refused to Set

Sunset's cloak, slick with dew, sagged slightly as she sprinted through the streets, causing it to pick up even more dew in a self-fulfilling prophecy of destruction.

"We're almost there!" Spike called out from atop her back. It's on the left!" Sunset's legs were burning, but seeing her destination filled her with newfound energy, so much so that she had to stop herself from slamming into the front door.

Sugar Cube Corner more than lived up to its namesake. The ceiling was made of gingerbread, the awning was supported by candy cane pillars, and the tower jutting out of the gingerbread ceiling was topped by an enormous pink cupcake sporting three burning candles. The gingerbread was thickly lined with once-white frosting, though it was temporarily stained red by the sunlight. In fact, the only parts of the building that were (presumably) inedible were the doors, windows, and walls of the house-turned-confectionery.

Sunset took a deep breath, then loudly knocked on the door. No response. A pink closed sign mocked her from the window. Sunset beat frantically on the wooden door, but still no answer. She tried to open it only to find that the door was bolted shut. Spike hopped off her back and gently knocked. “Pinkie Pie? Mr. and Mrs. Cake? Could you please let us in?” The deadbolt clicked.

"What in the world are you doing outside at a time like this, Spike? And who's your… friend?"

"There's no time. Twilight has gone missing. Have you seen her?"

"I'm sorry dearie, but I haven't."

"Do you mind if we ask Pinkie Pie?"

She opened the door. "Not at all, dearie. Be my guest.”

The blood red walls and burgundy floor, once beige and gray respectively, grew redder still as Mrs. Cake opened the door. Sunset, unfamiliar with the layout of Sugar Cube Corner, could barely keep up with Spike as he ran up the stairs and threw open the bedroom door. "Pinkie, have you seen…"

Pinkie and Twilight were lying on the floor. Twilight was face-down, her body gently rising and falling with her breathing. Pinkie had one arm around her side, while her other hoof slowly brushed through Twilight's mane.

"Shhhhh. I don't think Twilight needs any loud noises right now."

"What's wrong?" whispered Spike.

"I don't know. She just appeared in my room and then curled up in a ball on the floor. I figured this must be a pity party, but she didn't even want any ice cream." Pinkie pulled out a tub of ice cream and an ice cream scoop from her mane and dropped a dollop of ice cream into her mouth. "I'm totally at a loss."

"Did you try giving her a book?"

"That was the first thing I tried!"

"Huh. That usually works." Spike scratched his head.

Sunset kneeled next to Twilight. "Twilight, it's OK. It was just a dream."

Twilight's ears swiveled towards Sunset, but she remained silent.

Sunset looked outside at the blood-red sky and was struck with understanding. "Pinkie, do something that Twilight would literally never dream of."

"She can't," said Spike. Sunset opened her mouth, but Spike cut her off by gesturing emphatically at Pinkie, still eating the unmelted ice cream she had pulled out of her mane.

"Okay, that's fair. What about you, Spike?"

Spike looked down at the floor. "I don't know, Sunset."

"She's known you the longest, and unlike Pinkie, she probably has some preconceived notions about what you would say or do." Pinkie nodded sagely.

"Fine, but you two have to leave the room while I try."

"Fair enough. Come on, Pinkie."

"I can't go yet! What if she needs some emergency ice cream?"

"Then you can give it to her when we see her again in five minutes."

"But I need to set up a Twilight-recovered-from-extreme-shock party."

'Pinkie…" Sunset growled.

"What if–"

"Pinkie, either you go downstairs by yourself, or I drag you down by your tail."

Pinkie's tail was unexpectedly difficult to grasp with magic, though it was hard to say whether that was due to her status as an earth pony or her tail's strange spatial powers. That difficulty was only compounded by Pinkie's incessant wiggling.

Sunset stopped at the top of the stairs. "You know, if you keep moving, I might lose my concentration and set your tail on fire."

Pinkie froze. "I can't have my tail catch fire again; Mrs. Cake has a very strict no tail-fire policy!"

Sunset glanced back at Pinkie and raised an eyebrow. Pinkie Pie shrugged. "If I let your tail go, will you walk downstairs like a good filly?" Pinkie nodded vigorously.

It was quiet downstairs, and the Cakes were nowhere to be seen.

Pinkie broke the silence. “So, what brought you back to Equestria? Wait, wait, let me guess! You recently discovered that the human world uses dead animals to make everything from soap and shampoo to bricks and playing cards? Well, you don’t need to worry, those animals are totally different than the animals in Equestria and aren’t at all sentient… probably.”

“That’s not why I’m back, but how did you–”

“Lucky guess.”

Sunset shook her head. “To be honest, Pinkie, I have no idea. I know that I fell through the portal, but I don’t have any idea why it was open, or why it brought me to the castle of the two sisters.”

Pinkie scratched her head. “Maybe Celestia or Luna would know something about that.”

“Yea, that’s probably my best lead. I’ll see if Twilight can send them a letter once things are back to normal.”

They were silent for a moment.

“So, why were you in Twilight’s house this morning?” Pinkie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you two have a secret love affair?”

Despite the Blood Sun, Sunset’s face somehow flushed an even deeper red. “What? No!”

Pinkie giggled. “Oh well.”

Spike opened the bedroom door and trudged down the stairs. “Well, Sunset, it’s up to you.”

“What did you say to her?”

Spike looked away. “It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work, anyway.”

Sunset ambled up the stairs, deep in thought. She and Twilight barely knew each other. If Spike couldn’t surprise her with words, she had no chance. She'd have to do something that Twilight couldn’t rationalize. She opened the door.

Twilight was exactly where she had been before Sunset left, face down and curled up on the floor. If it weren't for the faint movement of her ears, Sunset might have thought that she had fallen asleep.

"I know you’re awake, Twilight.” Twilight remained silent. “I wish we could wait for you to recover, but something big is coming, and time isn't a luxury that we have... I’m sorry that it has to be like this.”

Sunset gently lifted Twilight's head off the ground and brushed her hair out of her face. With drooping ears, a scrunched-up nose, furrowed eyebrows, and quivering lips, she was the picture of fear and misery. As Sunset touched her, Twilight started whimpering. Sunset pulled back as if she had been burned. “Twilight, I know that I don’t have the right to ask this of you, but please trust me when I say that I would never hurt you. I didn’t mean to worry you.” She sighed. “I always say the wrong thing in situations like this. Perhaps it would be better to show you what I mean.”

Sunset leaned in close, and for a moment, their lips touched.