//------------------------------// // Reunion // Story: Resplendence Revoked // by NaiadSagaIotaOar //------------------------------// Laying together on a queen-sized bed, comfortable and relaxed underneath luxurious lilac blankets, three figures stirred slightly, snuggling up to each other long before any of them awoke. Even then, once all three of them had opened their eyes at least once, it was quite some time before any dared to end the moment. Their tradition of sharing a bed, despite being only a week old, had so far never failed to brighten their mornings with a few minutes of quiet, affectionate cuddling. Or an hour, as had been the case from time to time. Cuddles had been known to easily distort one’s perception of the passage of time. Aria, as usual, was the first one to rise, extricating herself from the enveloping fluffiness that was Adagio’s hair and slithering out of Sonata’s arms. Sonata followed suit, picking her head up off Adagio’s chest and sitting up. She stretched her arms and gave what was, objectively speaking, the single cutest yawn known to Sirenkind. Finally, Adagio pushed herself up against the wall, hanging her head and rubbing her eyes. “Morning, girls,” she said. The other two gave murmured greetings of their own. Then there was a pause. Early mornings were far from their ideal times to converse. By the time two minutes had passed, they had decided that there was nothing more to say and had promptly curled up next to each other again. A few more minutes passed. “Breakfast sounds good,” Aria mumbled into Adagio's shoulder. Adagio started to step out, but Sonata insistently pushed her back down and sat up. “Wait here, Dagi. I’ll bring it up when it’s done, ‘kay?” “We’ve been over this, Sonata. You don’t need to-” A very insistent pout quickly shut her up. Sonata gave a single fervent nod and wriggled out of the covers to stumble towards the door. Adagio sighed, but resigned herself to her fate and laid back. Breakfast in bed every day was apparently a welcome benefit of having overly affectionate sisters. Who knew? Beside her, Aria adroitly sprang to her feet, turning to look at Adagio and make an insistent gesture telling her to wait. “I’ll go keep an eye on her,” she said. “Don’t you dare get out of bed.” Rolling her eyes at the now familiar pampering they expected her to tolerate, Adagio obligingly nestled back into the covers, waving Aria off whilst curling up with her many pillows, considering herself fortunate that her sisters had at least been considerate enough to let her talk them out of bathing her in the mornings as well. They had apparently resolved to make up for the drama of the week prior by doting on her. If they had their way, they'd be treating her like a queen. Which, now that she thought about it, actually sounded quite lovely, so long as it wasn’t her sisters who had to handle it. She added an extensive list of luxury treatments to her growing vacation agenda. Adagio sighed again, dreamily. Her pillows, now that she took the time to appreciate them, were quite soft. She happily sank into them. If this day was going to be like the ones before, it was going to be a long one. No reason she had to rush to start it. By the time she finally heard Sonata knocking, she had very nearly fallen asleep again. One hour, a cup of freshly brewed jasmine tea and a steaming plate of eggs, sausage and bacon later, Adagio finally dragged herself out of bed and towards the nearest shower. About another hour and a half later, when Sonata had helped her finally get her hair dried and brushed and she deemed herself presentable, she went downstairs and tracked down Aria. “Ready?” Aria asked, downing her fourth mug of coffee. Adagio nodded, and the three of them made their way out to the garage, ready for a grueling session of Aria’s demanding instruction. She could already feel her voice straining, but an encouraging look from Sonata spurred her to push through and finish the last few notes, struggling but managing to at least hit a few of them. Compared to the expertise with which she had sung before, it felt like knitting wearing mittens, but every step of progress however small gave her a slight rush of excitement that drove her to keep trying. “Not bad,” Aria noted, her tone only subtly impressed. “I told you you’d be better than me. It’s only been a week and you’re already catching up.” Only because you’ve been holding back to get us up to speed, Adagio added in her head. “Yeah, you’re sounding really pretty today!” Sonata chimed in, beaming in that cute way she did when she was excited. “Ooh, I can’t wait for us to sing together again!” A momentary look of distress came over her. “I still don’t feel very magicky, though. What’s up with that?” “We might need to put the gems back together,” Aria replied. “Or maybe we’re just not good enough to properly handle our magic or something. I’unno.” Adagio giggled, a faint smile creeping onto her face. “We can worry about that later. Just make sure to keep practicing on your own while I’m gone. Can’t have you getting rusty, can we?” Sonata pouted. “Are you sure you still have to go?” “It’ll be at least a few weeks until I can make any definite plans, Sonata. I can’t just snap my fingers and go on a cruise, you know, so it’s not like I’m vanishing on you again. And I won’t be gone for long. A week or two at the most, I’d hope.” Adagio moved over to Sonata, stroking her hair and offering an encouraging smile. “I think it’d be good for you if I gave you some time to yourselves. If all that Aria’s done is any indication, you two will be just fine without me looking over your shoulders. Maybe even better. And I don’t know about you, but I think I’m due for a vacation. You should take one yourselves.” “But you’ll come back, right?” “Of course. I’d never leave you, Sonata.” A voice in the back of her head reminded her that she very nearly did, but a quick peck on her cheek from Sonata did wonders to banish her doubt and remind her of reality. The way Sonata had to stand on her tiptoes to reach up never failed to make her smile. “We’ve been at this for a while now,” Aria noted, drawing Adagio and Sonata’s eyes to her. “Ready to take a break?” Sonata shook her head. “Can’t we keep trying? I feel like we’re getting better already.” She went into a short verse to demonstrate, holding a rudimentary tune for a few moments before her weary voice cracked and she trailed off. “Maybe later,” Adagio said. “I think we’re all pretty worn out by now.” Pouting, Sonata nodded, gave a hastily murmured agreement and skipped back inside, no doubt intent on finding something shiny to distract herself with. The room felt noticeably quieter without her. Adagio lingered, deducing from Aria’s silence that she had something to say. “I still don’t agree with you,” Aria stated once Sonata left. “Are we still arguing about this? I told you already, I’m not going to keep ordering you around.” Adagio scoffed, eying Aria incredulously. "And I thought that you, of all people, would appreciate a little independence." “Why shouldn’t you? No matter what you say, you’ve been better at the whole evil mastermind thing than we’d ever be.” "I'm sorry, Aria." Adagio's eyes fell to the ground, her expression somber. "But after what happened before... I don't think you should have to follow me anymore. Three times we performed at the school and I took the spotlight every single time. You two deserve better than being overshadowed like that." “You were never-” “I’m done discussing this, Aria. After all that’s happened, I am not going to lead you two around anymore. We will find our way, but we will do it together.” With that said, Adagio spun on her heel and opened the door, only pausing when Aria cleared her throat. “I still don’t agree with you, but I’m not interested in arguing.” Aria gestured towards the stairs. “Anyway, I left you a present on your door. Take a look at it, would you?” Adagio looked at Aria and frowned. “A present?” “You don’t have to make such a big deal out of it.” “Dare I ask what the occasion is?” “Who says I need one? You never ask when Sonata wants to give you a present.” Aria muttered under her breath and made a flippant swatting gesture. “It’s not like it’s a big deal anyway. I’ve had it for a little while, but I’m never gonna use it so I figured you might like it. Seems like your kind of thing.” Adagio raised an eyebrow. Her interest piqued, she turned on her heel and swiftly made her way up to her room. Sure enough, there was a slip of paper stapled to her door. Frowning at the blatant woodwork abuse, Adagio carefully tore it off, made a mental note to make Aria take out the staple later, and looked back at the paper. The string of numbers looked vaguely familiar, but the red and orange sun emblem made it quite clear what their significance was. Adagio went silent for a long time until finally, she turned on her heel and walked away. A relaxing breeze blew. Waves gently broke against the coast, washing over a shore of fine sand. Beaches, Adagio found, were one of those things that most people simply did not appreciate. She had never particularly enjoyed the practice of simply basking in the sun, not since she had been burdened with a warm-blooded body. Nor did she have any respect for those who insisted that time on the beach had to spent doing something. No, her idea of enjoying the beach was to be laying back on a comfortable chair in the shade of her umbrella with an engrossing novel. Occasionally, she would get up to go for a quick dip in the ocean, just long enough to let the saltwater sooth her, and then she would go right back to her chair and her books. Because that, to her, was the whole point of the beach. To relax and enjoy the scenery. To feel the sea breeze blowing through her hair, carrying with it that distinctive salty smell. Of course, her relaxation was frequently interrupted when a very bored, very talkative Sonata needed something to do. One of the many vices Adagio endured because she knew Sonata would make up for it by doing something unbearably endearing. But those moments were in the past, from times when they had made a tradition of going down to the sea at least once a month, if not more. She couldn’t remember why they had ever stopped, but she made a note to pick it up again. Adagio sat on a plain wooden bench perched on top of a cliff overlooking the very beach that had driven her to ponder. A few sparse trees provided some measure of shade and seclusion. There wasn’t anything special about the spot, just a hidden overlook that one had to go quite a ways from the beach proper to find. Or just a quick jaunt from the parking lot, but she found that most people rarely took the effort. But she did. Because that was the point of beaches, to enjoy the scenery, and she had quite a view before her. The sea sparkled and gleamed, churning and writhing endlessly. Above it, she beheld a glorious sky awash with vibrant streaks of red and orange and purple, the last few minutes of a shimmering sun setting below the horizon. Back in Equestria, she had learned from her time on land that the sun didn’t set on its own. It rose and fell only when it was commanded to, moved through the sky by the magic of ponykind. And yet the natural sunset she was now used to didn’t need any of that. It wasn’t magical. It wasn’t even intentional. It just… happened. One of the most beautiful sights she could see, plucked straight from her memories of Equestria, and yet it needed not a hint of magic to be resplendent. Maybe there was something to be learned from that. Adagio chuckled to herself, laughing at the irony of praising a mundane sunset mere minutes before a very magical Sunset arrived. She looked down at the paper in her hands, staring at the number and pondering why Aria had given it to her when, if anything, Aria seemed to despise Sunset even more than she did. There must have been a reason, but she found, as was often the case when dealing with Aria, that she simply couldn’t fathom it. Although, now that she looked at it more closely, she could see the faint outline of ink bleeding through from the back. Raising a quizzical eyebrow, she turned the slip over and read the jumbled text scrawled on the reverse side. Say the word and I’ll break her legs for you. Or just chat. Y’know, do whatever. When you bang her, I want to see pictures. Inscribed underneath the words were a pair of interlocking scissors rendered in astonishingly precise detail. Adagio let out a long, forlorn sigh. “‘When?’ Get engaged within the hour one time and they never forget it.” Adagio slipped the paper into her pocket with an indignant huff. “Smug hypocrite,” she added, folding her arms across her chest. Aria must have been trying to help her in some way. And now that she thought about it, it was Sonata who had dragged Sunset into the picture to begin with. She thought of her sisters, of how perilously close she had come to severing her bond with them. Perhaps there was a remote chance that their paths would have crossed some time in the future, but the possibility seemed staggeringly unlikely. For all intents and purposes, she had intended to say goodbye to them for the last time. And yet she hadn’t. As much as she would like to think that she would have had the sense to go back and talk things out of her own volition, she couldn’t help but suspect that she had needed a little nudge. Sunset, perhaps, had inadvertently stopped a thousand-year-old bond from being irrevocably shattered. She hurt me. Struck me down and stole from me what I had worked so hard and waited so long to attain. The thought brought a faint ember of anger, but it never escalated further. But I’ll get it back. If there is even a shred of magic in this world, then I will find it. And she gave me back my sisters when I thought that I had lost them. Such kindness deserves a reward, does it not? That was why she was there, she told herself. Not because she had forgiven the girl, or even because she liked her. She was there because she had a debt to repay and indulging Sunset was the least she could do. Although… She understands me like no one else can. If there is anyone out there… Memories of their last interaction came flooding back, bringing with them an insufferable longing. And to her dismay, she found her mind wandering, conjuring up fanciful images of Sunset comforting her again and she realized how anxiously she counted the seconds that slowly ticked by. She didn’t know what to make of those feelings, so she swept them aside and resolved to come back to them when she had some time to think and to reflect. I could at least try to be honest with her, she mused. She seems like the type who'd appreciate a little honesty. And so she made a little promise to herself, a promise to be honest. If Sunset had a point, then it might go well. If she didn’t, then it wouldn’t be the first promise a Siren had broken on a whim. Only a few minutes later, she heard the roaring sound of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot, followed by the clomping of boots and the crunching of dirt. Mere moments later, Sunset sat down beside her, pulling off her helmet and letting her bright, wavy hair flow down her back. “Hey,” she said, smiling cheerfully. “You look like you’re doing better.” Without even willing it, Adagio felt herself smiling in return. “I am,” she replied. “We’re still sorting things out. There might still be another argument or two in our future, but we’ll get through it.” “Glad to hear it.” Sunset leaned back, draping one arm over the bench. She looked out over the sea. “I can see why you wanted to come all the way out here. It’s a lovely view. And it’s good to see you smiling,” she remarked. “Is it?” “Yeah. You should do it more often. It’s a good look for you.” A moment passed, and then Adagio laughed. Not the same way she had laughed before, not a malevolently eerie cackle. This was more of a giggle, light and melodic. Playful, even. Once she finished her short laughter, Adagio flashed another smile, this time one that she willed but had no need to force. “Perhaps I will, then.” Sunset gave a giggle of her own, beaming. Adagio turned to look out over the ocean, and for a few moments the two girls were more than content to sit together in silence and enjoy the view. Just two girls, sitting together on a bench and watching a beautiful sunset. Two at once, in Adagio’s case. Eventually, out of the corner of her eye, Adagio saw Sunset looking at her, with no small amount of joy and a trace of affection. “I’m glad you gave Aria your number,” Adagio remarked, neglecting to mention that they probably already had it lying around somewhere. “I don’t think I’d have thought to call you otherwise.” Looking over at Sunset, she smiled. “But I’m glad I did. It’s good to see you again.” “I’m glad it’s on better terms this time,” Sunset replied. “It seems like you’ve really changed since... wow, has it really been a week already?” “Have I?” Adagio raised an eyebrow, shifting to face Sunset head on. “Do tell.” “Well… it’s hard to put my finger on it. You’re just… nicer, I guess.” Sunset frowned, furrowing her brow in thought. “I mean, by the time we’d been talking this long last time, you looked like you were ready to strike me dead then and there.” “You never know,” Adagio remarked, smiling coyly. “I might be trying to pull the wool over your eyes. Lull you into a false sense of security and all that.” “I’ll be honest, I was a little suspicious the last time we talked,” Sunset admitted. “Aria’s attitude kinda put me on edge, I guess. But right now? I think I’m alright giving you the benefit of the doubt.” “I don’t see why you would,” Adagio said, tilting her head. “I know I wouldn’t, if I were in your shoes.” “My friends gave me a second chance,” Sunset stated, as simply as if she were calling the sky blue. “Maybe I was worse than you, maybe you were worse than me, but I don’t think that’s what matters. I think that giving you this chance is the right thing to do, so I’m going to do it, but I won't get anywhere if I don't trust you.” “You make it sound so simple.” “The way I see it, it is.” “Do I really seem like such a good person to you?” “If there’s one thing my friends taught me, it’s that anyone can be a good person if they want to.” Sunset pointed to Adagio’s heart and smiled. “And from what I’ve gathered, you three really do care about each other, don’t you?” Noticing how Adagio smiled fondly at the mention of her sisters, Sunset chuckled. “If that’s not enough to tell me that you could be a good person, I don’t know what is.” Adagio nodded silently, taking advantage of the lull in the conversation to select her words carefully. She racked her brain, trying to decide what it was that she wanted. Sunset, however, seemed intent on keeping her talking and prompted her accordingly. “So what’s next for you? What do you want to do now?” “Who knows?” Adagio murmured. The way she imagined it, the excess wealth they had been hoarding over the years would last as long as they needed it to, so long as they kept their decadence in moderation. “I'm not sure it matters, to be honest. I want them to be happy, one way or another. All this time, I've assumed that would mean getting our power back. But we'll see how things so. Maybe I was wrong." Not that having it wouldn't hurt. Adagio turned to Sunset and gave her an expectant look. “You sounded like you have a suggestion.” “You know… it might be a little rough at first, but I’m sure you’d be welcome to come back to CHS if you wanted to.” “You mean… go to school? Make some friends, give up my villainous ways and be a productive member of society? Be… normal?” Adagio trailed off into a dreamy sigh. “You make it sound so easy.” “It’s not so bad. But you’d have to work at it.” Adagio crinkled her nose at the mention of work. “Hmm. Oh well. As enticing as you make it sound, maybe I could put in a little work. Not sure about the high school part, though. I might not be completely up to date, but I’ve had my fair share of learning.” Sunset raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Have you…” “We’ve had a lot of spare time on our hands, Sunset. And with how weak our magic’s been, I thought it best that we have other skills to rely on.” Adagio looked away, smiling fondly. “They were a little apprehensive at first, but they’ve found all sorts of hobbies that they enjoy. Aria even helped invent a new branch of mathematics… how long ago was the first time? Thirty decades? Forty? Somewhere around there." Noting Sunset’s sudden silence, Adagio glanced to the side and, upon seeing the momentary look of shock on Sunset’s face, couldn’t help but break into giggling. “You thought silver tongues and pretty faces were all we had to offer, didn’t you?” “N-no, that’s not it at all!” Sunset stammered, blushing. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you never really seemed like the academic sorts to me.” Adagio raised an eyebrow. “I have hundreds of books in my bedroom.” “Um…” “I don’t mind,” Adagio remarked, leaning back and smiling sweetly. “I’m used to it by now. It would be silly of me not to take advantage of people who think I'm just a pretty face." “Their loss,” Sunset remarked before tilting her head. “But while we're on the topic, may I ask you something else?” “I suppose.” “If you’ve been around for such a long time, you must have seen a lot of things. It must have been pretty fascinating, getting to see the world change as much as it has.” “I suppose,” Adagio repeated, flashing a knowing smirk. “And you’d like to ask me about some of them, wouldn’t you? That’s usually the way this part goes.” “Well…” Sunset rubbed her neck awkwardly. “I don’t really know this world’s history very well. Or… pretty much at all for that matter. Never seemed all that important to me, so I don't really have anything to ask you about. It was actually something else I was curious about.” “Oh? Go on.” “Well, I imagine you’d have met a lot of people as well. Were there any that you, y'know, liked?” When Sunset saw Adagio’s smile fade, she winced. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I understand.” Adagio went silent, lost in thought. A part of her, almost unconsciously, hurriedly spun a web of lies, a flurry of disingenuous answers with which to deflect the question and steer the conversation in a more comfortable direction. For once, she suppressed that instinct. The train of thought she was about to pursue was exactly the sort of thing she had opened up about before. She's not going to hurt me. I should indulge her. It’s the least I can do. Kindness must be rewarded. But if I’m to be honest with her, then… Oh, what does it matter? She’s a smart little girl. Probably figured it out the second I told her. “You’re right,” Adagio began, her voice low and wavering. “And you’re not the first.” “The first to do what?” “To find out what I am. They always missed a detail or two, but many clever men and women have surmised that I’m not like them.” Adagio closed her eyes, breathing heavily. “I’ve been called a lot of things, Sunset. Muse, goddess, queen… monster. Witch. Succubus.” Sunset immediately winced. “I’m sorry. I know the feeling.” “I lost track of how many tried to hurt me,” Adagio continued, looking down at her fingernails and idly fidgeting. “So I stopped giving them a reason. I can’t claim to remember every pretty face that caught my eye, but there were many. Not as many as my sisters would have you believe, but I've had more than a few acquaintances, men and women who longed for my company and enticed me with clever words or promises of luxury, or some whom I desired. It always went the same way; I would charm them, perhaps with a song, and then I would love them for a little while. Perhaps only a day, perhaps a week or a month or even a year if they were fortunate, but I would always leave them one night.” “All those people… were there any that you cared about?” A subtle hint of anger seeped into Sunset’s voice, accompanied by a clenching hand. “Any that you thought twice about singing to?” “There were a few I was fond of, I suppose. And I didn’t always sing to them. My song can be… draining, if listened to long enough. Some of those people did such beautiful things that I couldn’t bear to deprive them of their will. And there’s a certain thrill in knowing that I didn’t need any magic to have my way.” Adagio’s head lowered, one of her hands idly twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “But I could never have been honest with any of them. Many men have been fortunate enough to find their way to my bed, but not a single one ever knew me.” She paused, mustering the nerve she needed and reminding herself that she had said she’d be honest. Her face and voice took on a grave tone, but she forced herself to keep speaking. “And not a single one produced the child I desired.” A long moment of silence passed before she looked up, wilting when she saw the earnest sympathy Sunset gave her. “That’s what you meant, when you…” Sunset made a vague gesture and then started to reach out. “Adagio, I’m so, so sorry.” “It’s not your fault,” Adagio murmured. “Don’t apologize.” “Are your sisters…” “As far as I know. We’re creatures of magic, not flesh and blood. But they’ve never talked about it. It doesn’t bother them, I suppose.” “But it bothers you, doesn’t it?” It used to, Adagio mused, ready to voice that thought when a more enticing one occurred to her. The issue was an old one, whatever grief it may once have brought being long since quelled. Perhaps there had been a time when considering it made her distraught, but those days were past. She had accepted her plight and overcome it. If she was to be perfectly honest, she couldn't even imagine why she had thought to mention it in the first place. The first time was excusable, when she was hardly in her right mind, but the idea that she would bring it up again voluntarily baffled her. Whatever the reason, she had. And now that she had, another thought occurred to her. She thought back to her promise of honesty, a faint but fleeting pang of guilt creeping up on her as she broke it. “Every day,” she murmured, her voice faint and her expression distant. She would never have cried if she had not willed it, but she flooded her mind with painful memories, forcing herself to recall her grief at being maimed and her anger towards the one who did it to her. Her tears would not have come, but they heeded her call. She let herself sink back into misery, knowing full well that Sunset would leap at the chance to lift her out of it. And Sunset, ever so kind, was more than willing to oblige. Once Adagio made her distress known, Sunset gently drew closer, pulling Adagio into an awaited embrace that she eagerly accepted. How pathetic she must have looked, reduced to clinging to a mortal girl and phantom pains. Implications be damned. She knew what she wanted and did what she must to get it. But maybe she could still be a little honest. “I don’t even know why I wanted one.” She wondered whether she wanted children at all, or merely resented that she had been given a body that was unalterably less than perfect. Or maybe there was another reason entirely. “Maybe I just wanted a legacy, something I could look back on and say that I made. A mark I could leave on the world.” “You want to be remembered, don’t you?” Sunset continued, carefully stroking Adagio’s hair. Remembered… that has a nice ring to it. I suppose I wouldn’t mind being remembered. “I’ve spent so much time living in the shadows. I had a lover once, a man who wrote words that were so compelling they’re still read today, four hundred years after his death,” Adagio murmured. “Who would remember us, if we were to vanish?” “I would.” Surrendering completely to the intoxicating comfort of Sunset’s embrace, Adagio buried her face into the offered shoulder, quietly sobbing. “I understand,” Sunset said in a soothing tone. “And I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through all this. But someone like you? There's so much more to you than what you let other people see, isn't there? I know you can find a way to be remembered. And… Adagio? I know what you are, and I know what you’ve done. I am still willing to accept you, and I’m sure there are other people who would. There are people that you don't need to hide from. You just have to find them.” Though those words seeped into Adagio’s ears, she gave no response, preferring to simply curl up beside Sunset and weep. The feeling of contentment that she had unknowingly craved returned in full force, proving just as addicting as before. Perhaps there was still a faint ember of anger burning inside her, some faint voice reminding of her of what Sunset had done to her, but it was swept aside if it existed at all. She relished the closeness, greedily taking as much comfort as Sunset could offer. Her sobs slowed and finally came to a halt, her tears following suit moments later. “I’ve never told anyone that before,” Adagio murmured, nestling into Sunset’s inviting warmth. She closed her eyes, a look of blissful calm on her face as she savored the closeness. “Just my sisters and you.” With a calm, loving smile on her face, Sunset pulled Adagio closer, gently stroking her hair and holding her in as comfortable a manner as she could. “It feels better to let it out, doesn’t it?” Adagio gave no response save for a content purr. Not three weeks ago, she would have scowled at the mere thought of letting Sunset of all people get so close to her, but now that she had she found she didn’t want her to go. And so they stayed there for a long while. Eventually, Adagio’s breathing slowed almost to a halt. Once or twice, her eyes slowly opened, but she quickly found that she was more than happy to keep them closed. The faint smell of sea salt wafted lazily through the air, working in tandem with the sounds of breaking waves to lull her into a state of restful calm. She could no doubt have stayed there for quite some time, half-asleep in Sunset’s arms, but a gentle tap on her shoulder roused her from her repose. “Sorry to disturb you, but…” Adagio nodded slowly, reluctantly drawing back and covering her mouth as she yawned. “You need to be going,” she murmured, arching her back and stretching out her arms as she unfurled from her curled up position. “I understand.” “Sorry. It’s getting late, and I’d like to be heading back home before too long.” Glancing in the general direction of the sky, Adagio nodded silently. Her mouth opened, but at first she said nothing, closing it without a sound. A thought occurred to her. Another way to repay Sunset, perhaps. Something to make up for her broken promise. The words she wished to speak hovered just on the tip of her tongue, but something inside her kept her from uttering them. What remained of her pride, perhaps. What a tragedy it was, that even after such an intimate encounter she couldn’t bring herself to ask for help. No. I need this. Sighing, she looked over at Sunset. “Before you go, there’s…” she trailed off, hoping she had made her point. Sure enough, Sunset looked at her and nodded. “What is it?” “Well… my sisters and I… we were thinking it might be good for us to take some time to ourselves. We’ve had a rough few weeks, and we think we could all use a chance to relax.” Her eyes closed, words carefully arranging in her head. “Aria’s thinking she might go camping for a few days. Sonata wants to stay at home. And so I…” Her voice lowered to a whisper, barely audible. “I need a place to stay.” Sunset cocked her head, raising an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want to stay with me?” Silently thanking Sunset, Adagio nodded. “Just for a few days. Sonata suggested I travel, but… I’m not sure I’m up for that right now.” Eying Sunset warily, she unconsciously shrank back. “You don’t have to say yes,” she added. “I’ll figure something else out if you don’t.” “No, it’s fine,” Sunset said, chuckling awkwardly. “I mean, I don’t have a lot of room to spare, but I think I could squeeze you in. When were you-” “Tonight.” Sunset blanched, but recovered and shrugged. “Okay. Short notice, but I think I can make it work. Do you have any luggage you need to bring, or…” “It’s all packed and waiting in my room.” “Great. Why don’t we swing by on our way back and I’ll see what I can do to get you situated.” “Good. I…” Adagio trailed off. Two words formed clearly in her mind, but though it pained her to realize it, she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Or say them and mean it, at least. A vestige of pride lingered inside her, rebuking her for thinking to lower herself so far as to admit that she was thankful, to imply that Sunset’s decision mattered when truly, her attention should have been all the thanks Sunset needed. Her heart raced, but she settled for a different approach. “I hope it’s not too much trouble for you,” she said, hating how empty the words sounded. Sunset waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine,” she said, wearing a cheerful smile. “Might be kind of fun, actually.” They looked at each other for a moment, and then Adagio reached out to caress Sunset’s face and darted in to give her a quick peck on the cheek. Thank you, she thought as she pulled back and stood up, cracking a light smile when she saw how Sunset blushed. “Shall we be off, then?” “Yeah, sure.” Sunset stared off into space momentarily until Adagio’s tapping foot brought her back to reality. “Sorry. Kinda spaced out for a second there.” Raising an eyebrow, Adagio turned and walked away, not bothering to hide a satisfied smirk as she made her way back to her car. “Like I said, it’s a little small, and it’s not nearly as nice as yours is.” Adagio stood in Sunset’s bedroom, a book bag slung over one shoulder. She swept her eyes about the room, feigning curiosity as if she were seeing it for the first time. She saw the modest bed, exactly where it had been before. She saw the same table occupied by neat stacks of textbooks and school supplies. “It’ll do,” she said, setting her bag down in the corner. “I’ve stayed in worse before, believe it or not.” Sunset chuckled lightly. “Anyway, make yourself at home. There’s some drinks and snacks and stuff in the kitchen if you want anything.” “Maybe later,” Adagio murmured, pausing when her eyes drifted over a small shelf of trinkets and baubles standing in the corner. In particular, there was an ornate white wooden box, carved with intricate patterns and marked with an emblem of a pale yellow sun. She walked over to it, delicately lifting it and running her hands over its smooth, polished surface. She cracked a faint smile when she saw the pattern of alternating black and white squares on the lid. Seeing that the chessboard had caught Adagio’s eye, Sunset walked over. “Celestia gave it to me, back when I was her student. Princess, not principal,” she said, smiling fondly. “I thought about getting rid of it, back when I… but I guess even then I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Do you play?” “I used to,” Adagio replied. “I imagine I’m a little rusty, though. Sonata was never very interested, if you can imagine that.” She neglected to mention that her interest had sharply declined once Aria beat her. Strange how the purple one couldn't be bothered to ever tidy her room but put in hours of practice just to secure a few minutes of gloating. “You wanna give it a go?” Sunset took the box and sat down on the floor, setting it in front of her and motioning for Adagio to join her. “It’s been awhile for me too, but I think I remember the basics.” Nodding, Adagio laid down on her side, propping her head up on one arm while Sunset set up the board. Standing amidst a sea of black and white, two armies stood facing each other, shrouded in a deathly hush. They moved only with the utmost care and precision, conforming exactly to the machinations of their commanders and shedding not a single tear for their fallen comrades and slain enemies. Slowly, the tides of battle shifted, gambits and ploys building on each other and forming a complex web of schemes and trickery. Some were abandoned when thwarted by a clever adversary, while others slipped past unsuspecting eyes to deliver decisive blows. Such was the state of things, or how Adagio liked to imagine them. Across from her, staring down at the board with keenly focused eyes, Sunset sat with her legs crossed and her chin resting on her palms. She saw only the board, eyes flitting about as she considered every possibility however remote. Though she would have appeared motionless to any observer, her mind remained intensely active, carefully plotting out her next move and the ones that would follow. Or perhaps she was merely stalling, fully aware of the futility of it all. Adagio, conversely, lay lazily sprawled out on the floor, idly examining her pristinely polished fingernails whilst Sunset thought. Occasionally, she deigned to spare the board a perfunctory glance, though she found that her eyes invariably wandered to Sunset's. She's actually rather adorable, when she's so intense like this. Adagio cracked a faint smile. Not as cute as Sonata, but really, who is? If someone had told me three weeks ago that I'd end up lounging in her bedroom playing chess of all things... Well, I might have slapped them. But I suppose I might not mind spending a little more time with her. Oh, is it my turn already? An expectant look told her that her turn had come at last. With a flippant motion amounting to a flick of her wrist, she all but flung a bishop across the board. Sunset stared at her with the kind of look one might use when regarding one considered to be profoundly stupid. Or, in this particular case, the kind of look a delusional idiot would use when addressing their obvious intellectual superior. “Did you just-” “I know full well what I did,” Adagio replied, with no small amount of smugness. “You may continue.” Sunset frowned, looking quite unsure as to whether she should laugh or not. Her eyes scanned the board again, pouring over it with meticulous detail just to make sure there was nothing she had missed. Adagio, naturally, didn’t bother. Still looking skeptical, Sunset nudged a piece diagonally and adjusted the board accordingly. “Your move, I guess?” she said, her voice hesitant and wavering. Smirking, Adagio reached out to the board, confident that her victory had come at last. She froze. There, where once had stood her proud, deadly, regal queen, there was a pawn. It had no mouth, yet it mocked her. It had no eyes, yet it stared at her, silently daring her to contest the indomitable certainty of its most definite and most vexing position. Covering her hand with her mouth, Adagio quickly sat upright, frowning and scanning the board while scolding herself for getting distracted. Oh dear. That’s… that’s rather troublesome, isn’t it? Let’s see, how about- She reached out, but quickly retracted. No, no, no, that won’t work. Her rook... What about- Maybe- Perhaps- What if- She gave the board a good, long stare, absorbing every scrap of information she could until she arrived at what was no doubt the only possible explanation for the baffling occurrence she had just witnessed. “You cheated.” “Nope. Beat you fair and square.” Sunset smiled cheekily. "But the way you were playing? I really didn't need to. I don't know if you were rusty or just careless, but there were sooo many things you could've done better." Muttering indignantly, Adagio swatted her king clear off the board and turned away, folding her arms and huffing. “Whatever,” she muttered. “I don’t why I even bother.” “Adagio? Are you-” “I'm remembering why I stopped playing this silly little game.” Ignoring Sunset’s attempts at comforts, Adagio dragged her bookbag over and sifted through it. “I meant to give you something,” she stated. “Might as well do it now before I forget.” The fact that her sudden action gave her a convenient excuse to pretend that the preceding incident never happened went unmentioned. Rooting through her bag, she finally took out a plain black book, still in near-pristine condition. Sharply extending her arm, she held it out to Sunset. “What is it?” Sunset asked, accepting it and looking at it curiously. “It’s my diary. Hundreds of years of memories.” Sunset’s eyes snapped up to Adagio and she promptly offered her the book. “Adagio, I can’t- you don’t need to-” “Nonsense. You’ve been very kind to me, Sunset. Such kindness should not go unrewarded.” Adagio pressed the book against Sunset’s chest. “Take it. I insist.” “I’m glad to help you, Adagio. You giving me this chance is thanks enough.” Sunset looked down at the book, running her fingers over the cover. “And something like this… with a life like yours… this must mean so much to you. I don’t want you to-” Adagio slipped her hand into her bag, pulled a similar but worn and battered book and held it up. “This is the original,” she said. “That’s a copy you’re holding. I've made several, just in case anything happened. It’s a few years behind, but you can fill in the blanks.” Smirking at the surprise on Sunset’s face, Adagio tittered. “What? You didn’t think I’d just give you my diary, do you?” Scoffing, she clutched her book to her chest and stroked it lovingly. “The stories in here aren’t written anywhere else. I’d never part with any of them.” She cocked her head and frowned. “Although Aria might have some of them in her di- sorry, journal, but she knows that she’s got a better head for languages than I do and made sure to write hers in at least seven just to spite me." “Wow. That’s, um… very thoughtful of you.” Sunset looked back at the book, blinked twice and then frowned. “Sorry, did you say seven languages?” “It’s not that impressive,” Adagio scoffed. “I spoke four or five at one point, though I imagine I’m more than a bit rusty in most of them. Aria’s somehow stayed fluent in… twelve, I think? That's what she claims, though I wouldn't be surprised if she measured her fluency in vulgarities.” Noting Sunset’s surprise, Adagio rolled her eyes. “It’s almost like our livelihood depended on people understanding us, isn’t it? Had to cover all our bases. And we had a lot of spare time.” “Huh. That makes perfect sense, actually.” Sunset opened up the book, flipped through a couple pages and nodded. “But if you have a copy anyway… I guess I wouldn’t mind knowing a little more about you.” She closed the book and smiled graciously. “Thanks. It means a lot to me that you’d do something like this.” “You've been very kind to me, as I said,” Adagio replied. “It's the least I can do.” “You really don't need to do that,” Sunset insisted. "I know." Adagio smiled sweetly. "That's what makes me so nice." Sunset rolled her eyes. “We’ll have to work on that,” she remarked, reaching over to set the book down on her nightstand. “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me about some of the highlights? I imagine they’d be more interesting with a personal touch.” "The highlights, my dear, are the ones that made it in." Adagio caressed her diary and tittered. "There's far too much for one volume." “Okay. I’ll make sure to read it soon, then.” Sunset paused, quirking her mouth and silently deliberating. An expectant look from Adagio prompted her to speak up. “While we're at it, though... I was thinking about something,” she said. “About what you told me earlier with the... you know.” Immediately, Adagio tensed, only relaxing when she reminded herself that it was Sunset talking to her. It’s alright. You can be honest with her. “Yes? What were you thinking?” “I was just wondering... ” Sunset paused, waiting expectantly to make sure she had Adagio’s assent. Only when she got a nod of confirmation did she continue. “There are children out there without mothers. Did you ever-” “It is one thing, Sunset, to sing a masterpiece of a song that someone else wrote. It is another thing entirely to feel the joy of having personally created something beautiful.” Adagio looked away, murmuring. “Perhaps one day I might try, but for the moment those two girls are the closest to daughters I’ve ever had.” Sunset frowned again. “Is that what they are to you? I know you’ve always called them your sisters, but...” Pausing, Adagio looked over her shoulder. “Friends, sisters, daughters... they’re just words. I love them just the same, no matter what I call them.” She looked away, lowering her head. “Though I wonder if things would have gone differently had I treated them less like children.” “What do you mean by that?” “The first night we came here… we were alone. Frightened and confused. We could barely use our magic at all until we recovered, and even then we were but shadows of our former selves.” Adagio turned to face Sunset, relaxing her composure. “I thought that they needed someone to take care of them. Someone that they could rely on, someone that they knew they could go to for help if their pain was too much to bear... but they didn't have anyone like that. So I gave them one." Adagio trembled briefly. "But I couldn't be honest, even with them. I couldn't let them know that I was just as frightened as they were." Sunset’s face showed that familiar tinge of worry that she had shown so often. “Adagio? Are you…” “I’m fine,” Adagio said, running a finger to her cheek and relieved to find that her face was still dry. “It’s in the past. I’ve been trying to be more open with them, these last few days. And I'm going to spend a lot more time with them in the future. But right now, I think I'd like some time to myself, if you don’t mind.” Walking over to her bag, she reached in and selected one of the books she had brought. “There’s no reason for you to fuss over me the whole night.” "Are you sure? I'm glad to-" "Please, Sunset." I've already asked too much of you. "I've had a long day. I'd like to get some rest." “Okay.” Sunset looked at her clock and nodded. “I’m gonna go get a few groceries and then I’ll see about fixing some dinner. I’ll be back soon if you need anything.” Picking up her jacket and sliding her arms through the sleeves, Sunset opened the door but looked once more at Adagio. “But if there’s anything else that you want to talk about, just let me know. You don’t have to be alone, Adagio. I’m here for you, if you want me.” With that, she stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind her. Standing up and moving back to the bedroom, Adagio carried her bag over to the bed, where she sat down, propped up her knees, and started reading. She kept her focus only partially on the book, keeping her ear keen and prepared to detect the sounds of Sunset's return. The sound of Sunset’s motorcycle jolted Adagio to attention and made her gingerly stand, carefully setting her book down to the side and hurrying over to the door. She cracked the door open slightly, putting her ear to the wood and listening intently. As soon as she heard the front door opening, she pulled back and nudged the door open, wide enough that Sunset would have little reservation but not so much that she couldn't hide behind it. Breathing deeply, she turned to face the bed and paused, waiting until she heard footsteps coming up the stairs to strip off her shirt and wriggle out of her extremely tight pants. She hadn’t even noticed, but her heart was already racing and she found herself fidgeting awkwardly. Just relax. It’s nothing you haven’t done before. And Sunset was rather pretty, she supposed. Somewhat lacking in comparison, of course, but she’d be lying to say she wasn’t at least a little impressed by what she saw. That certainly made things easier on her part. She likes me. She’s made no secret of that. I'm certain she’ll be interested. If she had any doubts, she hadn’t the time to properly reflect on them. There she stood, nearly bare in a purposefully compromising position that she hoped Sunset wouldn’t resist. As the footsteps grew closer, she steeled herself, flipping her hair over her shoulder and reaching behind her back to ensure that she appeared to be fumbling with her bra as Sunset entered. A moment later, the door swung open. “Adagio? Do you-” Sunset cut herself off with a gasp, quickly looking away and blushing. “Sorry!” she squeaked, backing away and stammering. Adagio lowered her hands and looked over her shoulder at Sunset. “It’s alright,” she said in a low, calm voice with just a hint of sensual grace. “What did you need?” “W-well, I was going to ask if you wanted anything for dinner, but…” Turning to look at Sunset, Adagio rested a hand on her hip and glanced towards the bed. “It’s getting late,” she remarked, giving Sunset a knowing look. “I was planning on going to bed.” “Ah. And that’s why you’re…” Sunset, still looking away, gestured vaguely in Adagio’s general direction. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” she blurted, spinning on her heel. “Good night!” Adagio’s eyes narrowed. You’re not turning me down so easily, Sunset. I’m not done with you yet. “Actually, before you go…” Adagio darted forward, taking Sunset’s hand and holding her back.  “There was something I wanted to ask you.” “Umm, I guess so, but I’d prefer if you- “What do you think of me?” Eyes widening, Sunset dared to look at Adagio, but quickly turned away when her gaze began to wander downwards. “You’re very beautiful, Adagio. Gorgeous, even.” Adagio raised an eyebrow and smiled, stepping closer and making sure to put an extra sway into her gait. “I’m flattered, but that’s not what I meant.” She stepped closer and raised her hand to Sunset’s cheek, guiding her until their eyes, separated only by inches, met. “Do you like me?” Frowning at first, Sunset shortly smiled, one of her hands creeping up to hold Adagio’s. “So far? There’s a lot of things I can admire about you. You’re beautiful and charming and intelligent and… caring, I think. When you want to be.” “I see.” Adagio’s eyes fell, becoming downcast and troubled. “And is that all that you feel? Admiration?” Sunset went quiet for a moment, but then lifted Adagio’s chin so their eyes met once more. “Is there something that you want to say to me, Adagio?” “No,” Adagio murmured. Truly, actions spoke louder than words. Fitting, then, that neither of them could speak when Adagio pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss. Adagio relished Sunset’s sweet taste, but only briefly before Sunset, flinching at first, quickly broke away. “This is moving a little quickly, don't you-” “Shh,” Adagio shushed, slithering her hand around Sunset’s waist and bringing them closer together. Her other hand caressed Sunset’s face, her eyes gleaming with intoxicating desire. “I want this,” she whispered, her voice low and breathy and warm on Sunset’s face. “Adagio, I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know if I-” Sunset cut herself off, resting her hands on Adagio’s bare shoulders. Her touch excited Adagio even further. “Maybe we should-” “One night,” Adagio whispered, pressing her chest against Sunset’s. “I want this. I want to know what it feels like to be loved. To be cherished, not just for my beauty and charm. I want to love someone and not be afraid to speak the truth to them.” “And some of those things, I can give you,” Sunset replied, stroking Adagio’s skin with a soft, gentle touch. “But love? I don’t know if I love you. Like that, I mean.” Adagio froze. She remembered Sunset holding her by the beach as they sat and watched the sunset. But… I thought… why wouldn't she... Adagio faltered, her eyes falling to the ground and her expression taking a melancholic turn. Hesitantly, she drew back, wrapping her arms around herself and suddenly feeling quite vulnerable. Recent events flashed through her eyes, and she wondered if she had made another mistake. She felt her face flush red, but a comforting smile from Sunset helped to calm her. "Adagio? I didn't mean to-" "Do you love me, Sunset?" The pause that followed was nothing short of agonizing. Adagio looked at Sunset, pleading for an answer. "I like you, Adagio. I enjoy talking to you, and I want to get to know you better. Whether that's love or not... I don't know if I feel that way about you. You're..." Sunset paused, clearing her throat and blushing. "Very beautiful. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. But..." “Then try.” Adagio stepped forward, clinging to Sunset's shoulder. She breathed heavily, letting out a blissful sigh as she rested her head on Sunset's shoulder and took in her pleasantly rosy scent. “One night,” she repeated. “That’s all I want. And if it goes no further…” She trailed off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “Then I understand. But it would mean the world to me if you gave me this chance.” With those final words, she reluctantly broke away from their embrace, sauntering over to the bed and sprawling out over the covers. She propped herself up on one hand and ran her other down to caress the swaths of smooth flesh her lack of attire brazenly presented. Though she tried her best to adorn her face with a sultry smile, she couldn't but feel as though her pleading eyes undermined her image. “Walk away if you want to,” Adagio murmured. “But if you want me...” Sunset hesitated, silently deliberating. Her eyes showed a blend of desire and pity. Finally, she lowered her head and turned around. She paused again, breathing deeply and then flicking the light switch. The room went dark, only to be dimly lit by a night light by the bed a moment later. Adagio purred, eagerly sitting up as Sunset sat down on the bed beside her. “I, um… I’ve never- not with a-” Silencing Sunset with another kiss, Adagio reached behind her back and swiftly unclasped her bra. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, pushing Sunset onto her back and laying on top of her, straddling her with her naked thighs. “That’s what I’m here for.” “I don’t know what to-” “Shh.” Adagio shushed again, pressing her finger to Sunset’s lip and then dragging it down her chest, smiling appreciatively. “Relax and enjoy yourself. Tonight is all about you.” Slipping the straps of her bra off her shoulders, Adagio flung the garment to the side where it lay discarded and forgotten, a wordless gesture that promised a long night of decadent pleasure. She arched her back and purred softly, reveling in the undivided attention her actions earned her. The night that followed was indeed long and full of passion. Silent for a few moments save for the rustling of fabric, the room was shortly filled by gasps and moans. Sunset Shimmer awoke, a smile still on her face as she basked in a lingering afterglow. Sighing and content, she stretched herself out and yawned before snuggling back into her blankets. A moment later, she felt one of her arms reaching out, feeling for another body that she somehow knew to look for but never found. Puzzled at first, she sat up and, upon noticing the haphazard state of the sheets and the clothes strewn across the room, frowned. The memory came flooding back, prompting her to leap out of bed. To her dismay, Adagio was nowhere to be found, although she did spy the diary resting on her nightstand, with a pile of loose papers and a lavender envelope tucked into the cover. Sunset pulled them out and sifted through them. Firstly, there was a picture. A picture of Adagio garbed in a flowing lavender gown and appearing to be the very image of elegance. She stood in a dainty, even demure posture, wearing an alluring but aloof smile partially masked by flowing orange and yellow tresses. It would have been a lie to say that she looked anything less than stunning, but in Sunset’s eyes Adagio had always been stunning, no matter how much or even how little she decorated herself. There was a signature in the corner, Adagio’s name followed by the words Something to remember me by and a very carefully drawn heart. There were a few other pictures, no doubt showing more of the same, but the envelope quickly drew Sunset’s attention. The moment she held it up, she noted that it carried the exact same pleasant strawberry scent that she had enjoyed the last night. Furthermore, Adagio’s name was written on the front in a sweeping, flowery script. She tore it open, pulling out a folded letter written in gleaming golden ink on lavender paper. It was smudged in a few places, slightly damp, and it occasionally faltered as if penned by an unsteady hand. Good morning, Sunset. I hope you had a good time last night. I know I did. And I’m sorry. I meant what I said about wanting to repay you. I thought a book wasn’t enough, so I gave you what so many others have wanted. I’m sorry that I couldn't be honest. I tried. Really, I did. But I couldn't. I think a part of me knew that you wouldn’t accept my gift if I told you why I was giving it. I hope you understand why I had to do what I did. There’s something I’d like to say to you. I don’t think I can bring myself to say it aloud, not to you, but I want you to hear it one way or another: Thank you. I know I've told some lies, but even if you can believe only one thing I say and nothing more, believe that I am immeasurably grateful for what you did. Whether you know it or not, you stopped me from making a decision that I now know I would have regretted for a very long time. This isn’t goodbye. Not as I see it. I would very much like to see you again, but I don’t think this is the time. After all that’s happened, I think I need some time to myself. There are some things that I need to think about, and I don't think my sisters are ready to forgive you yet. Now, as for what we said to each other last night… I'm sorry. Love is a fickle thing. There are only a few people I've ever met that I can say that I loved. I don't think you're one of them. Not right now. But I have little doubt that you could be, one day. I think I'd like to call you a friend, if not something more. I haven't had many friends before. But who knows? Maybe I’ll find another one before we meet again. But if we are to find solace in the company of others and the bonds we share, we shall do it in our own way, with whomever we and we alone choose to include. Your friends, whether they intended to or not, stripped me of one of the things I valued most. For your sake, I will leave them in peace, but I don't know if I will ever forgive them. You might think me cruel for living the life I did, but it is the only one that I have ever known and I do not regret living it. I will think about the things that you said to me. There are still things I don’t understand about you, but maybe one day I will know why you were so kind to me. Whatever your reasons, I am immensely grateful. I hope we meet again, one day when the time is right. May the tides carry you to calm waters.