Double Trouble: The Flaws Within

by Masterius

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

“Even we need to sleep now and then.”

Sunset Shimmer felt her face ignite, a sensation with which she was rapidly—if uncomfortably—becoming familiar. It certainly was not helping at all seeing the twinkle in the eyes of her new Nocturne, Eclipse and Umbra, right after Sunset Shimmer had impulsively blurted out her question, asking where was Crescent upon first seeing the new Night Guard.

Like Crescent and Harvest, Eclipse and Umbra were brother and sister. And including Crescent and Harvest, the four were virtually identical: slit-pupiled, luminescent gold eyes; furry-tipped ears; luxurious taupe coat; rugged-looking mane and forelock; stiff tails resembling elongated whisk brooms. However, unlike Crescent and Harvest, Eclipse and Umbra’s manes and tails were two-toned blue—a lighter cerulean and a darker navy—while their wings were the same navy.

Oh, and fangs. Let’s not forget the fangs.

They seem to share the same sense of humor, too: dubious and sketchy.

Thankfully, she could pretend to be preoccupied as her physicians—again!—finished their examinations. Well, and be frustrated, annoyed and irritated, as well…except there was no “pretending” there! Sunset Shimmer was exasperated and angry at all the time and energy they were wasting on her, when they should be utterly focused on Princess Celestia.

A point that she had made more than a few times, and with increasing vehemence with each succession.

Not that any of that seemed to matter at all.

Then again…

Sunset Shimmer winced, trying not to recall this last visitation by Princess Luna. Without raising her voice at all, Her Most Royal Highness, The Princess of the Night, The Moon Princess, had reduced Sunset Shimmer to a foal as she scolded her with surgical precision. The fact that Sunset Shimmer didn’t have a leg to stand on hadn’t made that any easier to swallow, either.

Oddly enough, though, for some reason Sunset Shimmer hadn’t felt like an unruly, disobedient filly being called on the carpet, instead feeling more as if the focus of indulgent, albeit frustrated, exasperation.

Either way, it was an experience she had no desire at all to repeat!

“I really hate to point this out, Miss Shimmer, but—”

Wincing as she shakily began rising, Sunset Shimmer sharply bit, “It’s Sunset Shimmer, not Miss Shimmer. Miss Shimmer makes me feel like a schoolmarm.” Pausing a moment, assuring legs were not going to buckle beneath her, she sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. Please, forgive me?”

As the room tipped and spun about her, she started silently weeping. Shakily wobbling as she struggled to control her descent back down, she felt two warm presences at either side, assisting her back into bed. The tears started falling faster, accompanied now by the sounds of tragic weeping.

Eclipse and Umbra glanced at each other for a moment, their expressions deeply concerned. “Mi—Sunset Shimmer, how may we help?” Eclipse asked

“What, if anything, can we do?” Umbra added.

Vision swimming, Sunset Shimmer stared at the blurry Nocturne. “Take me to Princess Celestia.”

Getting up off the bed without subsequently falling had been no trivial task. Getting out the door and into the hallway and then wobbling her way to Princess Celestia’s rooms had been an epic adventure. But all of that had been foals’ play compared to once she’d actually reached that door…and the two Solari standing guard there.

Polite and courteous as they appeared, there was no mistaking the condescension, disdain, and sneers lurking just beneath the professional veneer they were oh-so-carefully displaying. This was not interservice rivalry, either. This hostility was personal, directed not just toward the two Nocturne but at Sunset Shimmer as well.

“We appreciate your desire to visit with Our Lady of the Sun. However, her Physicians, as well as her sister,” the one Solari unctuously explained—Sunset Shimmer sensing the tightness her Nocturne felt at the patent slur to their Lady of the Night—“have left strict orders that Princess Celestia is not to be disturbed by just anypony.”

“Especially those wishing to do so simply out of morbid curiosity and fascination,” the other smugly added.

Sunset Shimmer’s vision reddened as fury boiled inside her. It was not even from their infantile attempts to insult her.

But they were keeping her from Princess Celestia’s bedside.

Her magicks started rising inside, synchronized with her rage. She had a moment of startled shock at that sensation…

Before dropping to the ground as if a limp sack of potatoes.

---

“Fluttershy? There’s a very good reason that Twi— Miss Sparkle exploded the way she did earlier today. You see, in her world…”

Give Fluttershy her just due, but confrontation was not her strong suit, and it did not matter whether such was directed at her or she was audience to strife between other ponies. Confrontations made her tense up, feel weak and trembly inside, twisting her guts up with anxiety.

The very last thing Fluttershy wanted to be reminded of was the horror of this morning, when she was trapped with cataclysm raging about her. Actually…no; that was not the very last thing.

The very last thing was being reminded of that when the source of that catastrophe was sitting mere hooflengths away from her!

“Wait. What? What did you just say, Spike?” Something the little dragon had just said had cut right through her inchoate fear and struck her heart.

“Miss Sparkle has a pet in her world: a small dog that is very precious to her,” Spike repeated, his focus entirely directed on Fluttershy. “His name is Spike,” pausing a moment for Fluttershy’s surprise at that name to ease, “and he is very, very special to her.”

At that, Fluttershy directed an expression of such deep respect, admiration, and love toward Twilight that it penetrated even her armor.

An expression that quickly changed as Spike continued.

“Miss Sparkle wasn’t planning to be gone very long. Just the morning, and possibly the afternoon. She’d fed Spike breakfast; made sure his water bowl was topped off.” Taking a—hopefully—surreptitious breath, Spike continued. “He’s alone, Fluttershy. All alone. And his friend, Miss Sparkle, is trapped here. Nopony is going to just drop by and check up on Miss Sparkle because…”

Twilight felt crushing despair and inarticulate loss filling her; threatening to consume her; turn her worthless self into ash and clinkers. That odd, inner energy she’d only started sensing since her arrival here began seething and churning. Why is Spike tearing my heart and soul open again?

“No!!”

Twilight rocked back, eyes flying wide open and staring with shock and surprise at Fluttershy’s vehement—and absolutely unfeigned or unrehearsed—outburst.

Fluttershy rose to her hooves in a startling burst of speed, her eyes instantly filling, swimming with tears. “Spike!” shrilling in distress, “We have to send Twilight back! Right now! Her Spike needs her!”

Spike then said one of the hardest things he had ever spoken: his voice soft yet direct, “Fluttershy…we can’t send her home. The Crystal Mirror, the Portal between Worlds? It’s broken.”

“Then we have to fix it. Right now!”

“Nopony knows how to fix it, Fluttershy,” he gently broke that bad news. “It might take weeks to figure that out. Assuming it’s even possible to fix at all.”

Her despair and loss grew increasingly bleak as Twilight felt the tight control of emotions fracturing. Eyes filling with tears, incipient weeping mere seconds away…

Twilight rocked back this time as Fluttershy keened a distress even deeper, more profound, than Twilight’s own. Collapsing to the ground, Fluttershy began sobbing, thick tears soaking her cheeks and muzzle as they steadily dripped.

Fury started bubbling once more inside her, enraged at Spike for reopening her wounds at the same time as upsetting Fluttershy. What was the point of this?

Sharply gasping, Fluttershy’s head suddenly jerked up. “Spike!” she blurted; then, the moment she had his full attention…

“Twilight. She…She’s back in the same place as before. Right?” Spike nodded, then Fluttershy continued, words almost tripping over each other in her haste, “So if she’s in that world, the same one as before, then we—well, the other we, that is,” she fluttered a forehoof in expressive frustration, “We’re there, too? With her?”

“They always have been before,” he confirmed and assured.

Twilight bleated in startled shock as Fluttershy hurled herself at her, enthusiastically tackling. “It’s OK! It’s OK! It’s OK! Everything’s going to be OK!” she caroled her excited relief, Twilight feeling as if being strangled in her embrace.

“What’s OK?” Twilight managed to gargle out past those vice grip forelegs.

Gazing deeply into Twilight’s eyes, hers still swimming with tears, but these now happy, joyous ones, Fluttershy solemnly assured, “I’m there, too. The other me, that is. There’s a Fluttershy there, and she is just…like…me,” she carefully stressed. “And we,” tapping the center of her chest for emphasis, “will move Sun and Moon to find your Spike. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” she somberly vowed.

Twilight had no idea why Fluttershy covered an eye with her forehoof, nor did she have any idea why anyone would make a serious promise with such childish verse. Neither mattered at the moment as she burst out into sobs, because, for the first time since she’d arrived here, Twilight felt the first glimmer of hope.

Not for herself; never for herself.

But for Spike.

---

“Ouch.”

“Ah! You’re awake, I see.”

“Being poked and prodded does that, yes,” Sunset Shimmer grumped, rubbing eyes with a forehoof.

Softly chuckling, the source of said poke-and-prod quietly asked, “And how are you feeling?”

“Grumpy. A tad hungry. Thirsty, too. And frustrated and angry as Tartarus,” she thoughtfully added. “And where am I?” she asked, suddenly realizing this wasn’t Princess Luna’s private bedchamber.

Lifting up her head, Sunset Shimmer focused on the voice at her side, and, in doing so, immediately recognized two things: one, based on his (apparent) age and (definite) professional demeanor, this pony was also a senior physician, and, two…

“Princess Celestia!” she blurted, then, horrified, clapped hooves over her mouth. For, yes indeed, just behind him was her beloved teacher and mentor, cozily settled atop a very comfortable bed, blankets snugly tucked around her and up under her chin.

Unfortunately, she was not sleeping.

“How is she, Doctor?” Sunset Shimmer softly murmured, not wishing to disturb Princess Celestia and finding it difficult to work words past her suddenly tight throat. “And—not that I’m complaining, mind you—but why am I here?”

“Well, since you seem so determined, come Tartarus or high water, to be at Her side, it was our unanimous decision to, well, head you off at the pass and simply move you here.” His eyes twinkled at Sunset Shimmer’s sudden bright blush, then, growing serious, he addressed her first question.

“Her condition has remained the same,” he explained. “Thanks to your earlier observation,” this time his eyes showed deep respect, “we’ve kept close watch on her internal energies and magick as well as the more typical physiological vitals. It seems as if those internal stores have been utterly depleted and drained, and are continuing to be.”

Rubbing the bridge of his muzzle, suddenly looking wearied beyond belief, he paused a moment before continuing. “Although usually only seen in overextended Mages, being completely drained of magicks has been seen in all three Tribes. Unfortunately,” he deeply sighed, lines of grief and sorrow creasing his face, “for Earth and Pegasus ponies, that is almost always either mortal or fatal; in fact, recovery for them has been more anecdotal than documented.”

An icy chill swept over Sunset Shimmer as his words rolled over her.

“For unicorns, however, due to our unique natures—as we internally generate as much as externally absorb magickal energies—complete draining, while dangerous and often fatal, usually is survivable, as immediately after such a depletion we instantly begin ‘recharging our batteries’, as it were.”

Intently gazing directly at her, “Princess Celestia, however, is not.” And, as Sunset Shimmer felt her throat closing up preparatory to keening, he added, “And neither are you, young lady. And neither are you.”

With him gazing so intently at her there was no way at all she could miss his flabbergasted expression when she softly murmured, “But…but I think mine is recharging. It…it just doesn’t stay.”

Temporarily relocated to the adjacent room and now surrounded by six physicians of various rank and specialty, Sunset Shimmer struggled for composure as all sorts of ‘devices arcane’—her private, personal description of all the test leads, equipment, and devices that were either attached to, or focused on, her. Once everything was verified, and up and running…

It was brutally difficult to do the one thing she absolutely needed to do: not think about magic. At all. Not about magic in general nor specifically about her own, personal store.

In some ways that was not at all difficult to do. She had spent years, after all, without any magic, to the point that having her internal stores recharged once she had followed Princess Twilight through the Mirror had felt strange and disquieting. In fact, unless she actually focused on it, Sunset Shimmer was not at all aware of the complete absence of magic, as that state of affairs was actually more comfortable, more familiar, to her. Speaking of which…

Sunset Shimmer had an instant to think, Oops! before dropping unconscious again, having injudiciously sensed a tiny pool of internal magic and reached for it.

---

“Are we there yet?” Twilight miserably asked…again.

Spike was not about to roll eyes at the twentieth time she had asked that, not when she was miserably hunched up in a tight ball at the very front of the chariot flying them both to Canterlot. She had taken one look at the conveyance, and a second at the distant—very distant, and very high—spires and turrets barely visible, and had turned white as milk.

“No,” she had flatly declared. “No no no no no!”

Understandably so, Twilight was not about to try flying there, wings notwithstanding. And, while taking the Friendship Express train would undoubtedly feel more familiar—and stable, and secure, and safer—it would also be much slower…and considerably more public. Spike quickly reassured Twilight that dropping the Friendship Express as a transport option had nothing at all to do with the happenings of earlier that morning, and everything to do with Princess Twilight Sparkle’s popularity and high visibility. Walking was obviously out, and for similar reasons. And so the options were slowly reduced to just two feasible ones: hot air balloon and chariot.

Twilight had immediately nixed the balloon option, so Spike had fired off a scroll to Princess Luna requesting chariot transportation for Twilight Sparkle and himself.

Unfortunately, Spike had not thought to clarify things, for it was not a ground chariot…

…it was an aerial one.

“There’s no back to this…this…this deathtrap!” she had hissed after circling the conveyance several times. “There’s no seats, or seat belts! There’s nothing to keep me from just rolling right back and off!”

Circling it once more, “And for the love of…it’s gold, Spike! Solid gold! Do you realize just how much gold masses? Why, its density is 19.3 grams per cubic centimeter! I’m surprised it’s not collapsing under its own mass! Gold is very soft, you know. Unless, of course, it’s been alloyed.”

She kept muttering as she circled, while, quite some time ago, the Solari Guardsponies—Pegasi, of course—had started looking rather quizzically at her. Not that she had noticed, as her full attention was on this disaster-in-the-making. However, speaking of which…

“And is that solid gold, too?” she gestured to the—yes, solid gold—barding of the two Solari Guardsponies standing there between the rails of the chariot. “Well, that makes perfect sense,” she snipped. “Let’s just double the weight of our organic engines, why don’t we? Won’t that be fun?”

Carefully ushering her to the side, Spike softly murmured, “Take a deep breath, Miss Sparkle. That’s it. Now another.” Giving her a minute to regain her composure, Spike gradually realized the true depth of her fears.

“I promise you it’s safe. Twilight and I have ridden this, and ones like this, quite a few times.”

Fluffing out her wings, Twilight snarked, “I’m sure falling was a terrible worry for her.”

A curl of smoke wisped from his nostrils as his vexation spiked. “Well, I don’t have wings. And for most of her life, neither did Twilight.”

“Wha—?”

“Yeah,” he replied, at the same time silently coaxing her to follow along. “Twilight wasn’t born an alicorn. She was born a unicorn.”

“A unicorn? Like Doctor Horse and Rarity?”

Spike almost stumbled at that, blinking in surprise. She’d never been introduced to Rarity, so how did she know her name, and the fact that she was a unicorn?

“Yes. Just like them,” he confirmed, leading her up and into the chariot. He was still explaining things as the chariot finally took off, and up into the clouds.

---

It was very quiet, and very dark. Wavering shadows were deep and thick, cast by the flickering illumination of two small, mostly shuttered table lanterns. The huge French doors to the balcony were closed; the windows were shuttered, heavy drapes drawn closed against the coming chill of evening.

It was so quiet that the sound of breathing coming from the bed sounded jarring, out of place for all that it was so soft and light.

So quiet that the caught, choked breath echoed like the angry stomp of a hoof against cobbles.

“Tia,” came the whisper from the deeper shadow standing alongside the bed. “It’s me: ‘Lil’ Sis’.”

There was silence for several seconds.

“Everything is going to be all right,” she whispered. “Just…just rest, OK?” Try as hard as she might, Luna simply could not keep her voice from catching and cracking.

“Don’t worry about anything,” she assured. Her horn softly glowed, as did the top edge of the sheet as she gently drew it further up Celestia’s still form. Using the tip of her horn, she tenderly tucked it more snugly about her. “I admit it’s been a while,” she weakly chuckled, straining to sound cheerful, “but I haven’t forgotten how to raise or lower your sun. Granted, it’s a lot more cumbersome than my poor little moon,” and again she brokenly chuckled, “but it is only one sun. It’s not like raising the moon and then decorating the entire heavenly vault.”

She closed her eyes tightly, as if that could dam the rising tide of tears behind the lids.

“I’ve canceled most of your appointments for the next few days,” she continued…once she was sure she could. “You really need to start taking some personal time off, Tia,” she weakly laughed. “I was quite shocked at just how much you tackle each day. I mean, really!” she gently scolded. “It’s not as if Equestria is going to fall apart if you take a day off now and then!”

It really would not, either, Luna knew. But she also acknowledged there being a big difference between Celestia taking a scheduled vacation day versus being struck down and completely incapacitated. Worse, she was also well aware of the consternation and alarm that had boiled up just during the last twelve hours. Equestria might not fall apart, she fretted, but being shaken to its core was quite another matter entirely.

Not that she would ever let any sign of that show in her voice or expression!

“The…The doctors…they say right now you just need rest. OK? So, please don’t worry,” she tried keeping her voice from sounding as if she were pleading, yet knew she’d failed before she even opened her mouth. Leaning down, she brushed her muzzle along her sister’s, trying not to wince at how chill she felt.

“I finally got to meet Sunset Shimmer,” she said, once she was certain she had her voice under control. It was hard; very hard. She simply was not used to seeing her big sister like this! Celestia had always been the strong one, the one that bore up under whatever trials, conflicts, and even battles had come their way.

Oh, not that Luna, herself, was weak, because she most certainly wasn’t. In fact, in an absolute sense, Luna was the stronger of the two. But while hers was tactical, sharply focused on the immediacy, Celestia’s was strategic in nature, looking at the long-term, overall picture. But never before had Luna seen her Tia like this. Never!

“I can see what you must have seen in her. I have to tell you, Tia, I’m impressed with her. She…she…” Luna stumbled to a halt. She fell apart into a sobbing heap at seeing you so stricken? She has also been stricken the same as you upon examining you? She’s furious at being kept from you, because of our fear for her? She feels responsible for what happened to our Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle?

“She loves you, Tia,” Luna finally said. “She is in deep grief, seeing you afflicted.” There was a pause, then, her voice cracking, “As am I, my sister. As am I.” A moment later, her voice now sounding—even if a bit forced—brighter, “Oh Tia! You should have seen Our courtiers and nobles when I stood on your balcony and lowered your Sun! They looked all atwitter!”

For the next half-hour, Luna just nattered away, struggling to keep voice and tone cheerful and encouraging even as her insides were knotted up and twisted with heartache.

Celestia never moved or responded in any way at all. Except for Luna sensing the almost imperceptible rise-and-fall of her chest, it felt very much as if she were holding a wake rather than holding vigil at a sickbed.

“Yes? Who is it?” her voice rasped, in response to the gentle knock at the door.

“It’s Sunset Shimmer, Your Highness.”

“Enter.”

Peeking her head around the door after parting it just enough to peer around. “I hate to disturb you, Your Highness…” There was a pause as Sunset Shimmer choked back tears again, “But Twilight Sparkle has just arrived.”

Comments

[Masterius]

10005827
After sober reflection, and after feedback from others, I should have left the rating at T, instead of revising it to M as I had done. Therefore, I will be revising it back to T.

I appreciate the observation and question, and apologize if I sounded bitter or snarky.

~Masterius