//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 - The Prodigal Sun // Story: Losing Sunlight // by MarvelandPonder //------------------------------// Having her entire skeletal structure stretch, bend, and reform left Sunset feeling a tad woozy. The face-plant into Twilight’s crystal floor didn’t help much either, but it was definitely more than that. A trip through the portal never failed to disorient in a queasy, not-exactly-sure-that-really-happened sort of way, like she’d been hit with a day’s worth of jet-lag all in one go. She came out smelling like she’d been struck by lightning, and she felt like it, too. She and Twilight still hadn’t figured out why that was. Mostly because they couldn’t stay in the space in-between dimensions long enough to run experiments on its atmosphere. The charred stench wasn’t making her feel any better. With the walls of neatly organized books spinning out of order, Sunset shook her head to ward off the vertigo. Somepony offered a hoof down her way, and she took it, groaning up a storm. “Okay, seriously. There’s gotta be a way to adjust the portal. I think we’ve got it set on hurl.” “I’ll have to take your word for it,” Starlight Glimmer said. Her voice was glazed with just a dash of smugness, like she’d been planning that line for a while. Sunset blinked away the last bit of blurriness and stood straight. “Starlight? Celestia, it’s been ages. We’ve really gotta catch-up. Still keeping Twilight in check for me?” “Oh, yeah. Totally.” She held up a hoof to her mouth like it would block all sound from prying ears. “She’d be a mess without me.” Their grins got a little wider when they heard Twilight in the doorway. “Hey! I hope you’re only saying that because you know I can hear you.” Hoof-steps echoing, Twilight trotted across the expansive library to her make-shift portal, probably more than a little unimpressed the first thing her friendship students did when they got together was poke fun at her. The second thing was a proper hug, though, so she wasn’t all bad as a teacher. Although, Sunset briefly wondered if it said anything that the third thing would’ve been hitting up the Ponyville Pub together, if they had the time. No matter what implications any of that had, maybe it didn’t matter. It was never made clear to her whether or not she’d been made an official pupil. She did write Twilight for support and guidance, sometimes on the daily. Maybe she was a foreign-exchange student? Studying abroad? Like, way, way abroad? Twilight shot a glare at Starlight. “In any case,” she said, switching gears, “I’m so relieved you could make it under such short notice. I hope this won’t affect your studies too much. What did you say to the Dean?” Sunset pressed her mouth into a thin line, eyes bulging. Starlight’s eyelids dropped. “You didn’t talk to the schoo—” “I didn’t talk to the school, no.” Sunset smiled through a chuckle. “Uh, is there any chance I could borrow your journal, Twilight?” “Of course.” Twilight’s horn lit up and the book floated over from a table across the room. “It says a lot that you came as soon as you could. I’m really glad you’re here.” Sunset readily accepted the book, along with another hug from Twilight. Was Twilight always this tall? She couldn’t have always been this tall. “Well, it’s not like I’d ignore a message like that.” They pulled back enough to look each other in the eyes. Yeah, she definitely shouldn’t be that tall. This was going to bother her all day. “I mean, what’s going on?” Twilight’s ears wilted and just like that Sunset wished she’d never asked. She winced and said, “I’m guessing you didn’t mean she’s sick in the metaphorical sense.” Twilight looked away and shifted her weight. The window panes in the skylight spread shadows over her face, like light filtered through the leaves of a tree. “To tell you the truth, I barely know what I meant. The summons from Canterlot was so vague it was almost cryptic.” Her ears bent back the rest of the way. “I guess I’m not really used to getting a form letter.” “By which she means she spent the whole day pacing and analyzing it.” Starlight whirled her hoof around, orbiting around an invisible planet the size of a gumball. That sounds about right. Sunset had never known anybody or anypony so frequently on the verge of a panic attack. Then again, that wasn’t a fair assessment. Maybe if she hadn’t been so awful growing up she would’ve met more panicky ponies. Although, if her record for provoking emotional breakdowns was anything to go by, she probably had a hand or hoof in causing a few panic attacks herself. Her chest tightened just thinking about it. “I’m not sure I’m looking forward to it, but at least when we get to Canterlot, we’ll have our answer,” Twilight was saying. She turned toward her student. “Starlight, if you need anything, anything at all—” Starlight flapped a hoof like a flipper. “I know, I know, you’re only a letter away. Sometimes I think you forget I’m a grown mare.” Twilight blushed. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to say I’ve written out instructions.” Starlight raised an eyebrow. “For ‘anything at all?’ How?” Twilight blushed harder. “List-making calms me down.” Starlight softened. If nothing else, the one thing that gave Sunset hope for Starlight when they first met was how much she cared about her teacher. There was only a slight height difference between them, but with how Starlight’s head was bowed, her eyes pressed into Twilight from the top of her eyes. It was around then that Sunset realized why Twilight’s height was so irritating, and it came on like a bad case of the pony flu. One moment she was fine, the next she was ready to throw up. The reason it bothered her that Twilight was that tall was that Sunset wasn’t that tall. And she wasn’t. On the whole, she was just shy of average, really. Just a regular old unicorn. But that was it. She’d expected that to change. She only really thought about it now, but after everything she’d done and been through and risen above in the human world, she thought ... Her gut twisted. There was even a time where she had both a horn and wings. Surely after that, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume she might’ve accidentally ascended. But, she wasn’t hoping, or theorizing. She came in expecting it. She wanted it again. Not only that, she just blindly assumed she’d earned it, like she just deserved it. Twilight and Starlight were too focused on each other to notice the drastic shift in Sunset’s countenance. Twilight cringed to Starlight. “Did you get Spike to bed?” “Give me a challenge,” Starlight said, swiping at the air. “He’s been fast asleep since eight!” “... Sleep spell?” “Twilight! I’m wounded!” Starlight held her hoof against her heart. When she saw that Twilight’s expression hadn’t changed, she crossed her hooves. “As a matter of fact, no spells were performed in the making of this bedtime.” She opened one eye. “I bribed him.” Just as Twilight was about to go off on her, Sunset came in for the save. “Spike’s not coming with us?” Twilight nodded. “Spike’s very mature for his age, but he’s still so young, and Princess Celestia took care of him sometimes when he was little. If something happens, I just don’t want him around to see. I don’t even want him to know she’s sick, if we can avoid it.” Sunset smirked at Starlight. “So you’re on foal-sitting duty?” Starlight squirmed at the word foal, at which point Sunset received the wonderful image of Starlight ‘I once tried to ban all children’ Glimmer covered head-to-hoof in little ponies. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I’m more of a castle-sitter who checks in with Spike on the side. He’s totally capable of handling himself.” She glanced at Twilight. “But, I’ll take care of everything here, I promise.” Twilight smiled. “I know you will.” “And I’ll help,” said an obnoxious voice from the doorway. Voice and smugness aside, Trixie’s trademark cap and cape were recognizable in any dimension. Her wink was pretty familiar, too. “Well, only if you don’t mind me staying here while you’re gone, Princess.” “Of course I don’t mind.” After a face Sunset could only describe as priceless, Twilight gave her student a look. “You know, traditionally, you’re supposed to wait until after I’ve left town to invite friends over.” Starlight tittered. “Getting ahead on my homework?” “Right.” As Twilight watched Trixie waltz on over, she tried not to arc her back like a cat. “I’m glad you’ll be here for Starlight when I’m away.” If Sunset knew Twilight as well as she thought she did, Twilight was thinking about how that technically wasn’t a lie. Trixie nodded, but somewhere along the way, her steps slowed enough to raise Twilight's eyebrow. In fact, Trixie took her hat off to fiddle with the brim, and Starlight had to poke her side and share some unspoken exchange before she could go on. “…You two will make sure the Princess is okay, won’t you?” Any remaining annoyance in Twilight’s expression fell. “Starlight, you weren’t supposed to tell anypony. If the public finds out, there could be a panic.” “I know, but Trixie went to Celestia’s School, too. She deserves to know, and she won’t tell anypony else.” Trixie nodded beside her. “If she really is sick, could you tell her…” She reached into that hat of hers and pulled out a bouquet of flowers. “Give her these for me? She’ll know what it means.” Twilight took the flowers in her magic and held them close to her chest. “Absolutely. Of course. We’ll give them to her as soon as we arrive.” Sunset didn't have to be the Princess of Friendship to interpret what message Trixie was sending with that look. “Good, good…” Starlight’s eyes darted away, rubbing her forehoof. “And, Sunset? Keep Twilight in check for me?” She nodded. “Yeah, Starlight. Sure thing.” Twilight sighed. “Well, we should probably get going now.” Sunset and Twilight held each other’s gazes. Every rogue heart palpitation, every question, every spiraling anxiety—Twilight mirrored all of it back. We won't be alone, she thought. No matter what. She brought the journal in her magical grasp to her chest. She definitely wouldn’t be alone. Even if her hooves wanted to collapse under her. “Probably.” Sunset managed to give her a nod, and just like that, Twilight’s horn powered up. Starlight and Trixie waved them off as they vanished into thin air.     The corridors of Canterlot castle materialized around them. A flash of light later, their bodies displaced a wave of air. Dusk draped over the marble halls as torches burned with the help of Eternal Flame, a luminous spell the guards used to save on the cost of candles. The never-ending carpets, the historical paintings between the columns, and the unreachable arched ceilings struck a chord in Sunset; she had a lot of dreams about this place. Her most common dream consisted of her getting lost in its twists and turns, chasing after some nonsensical goal her mind tricked her into believing mattered. Other times? Her unstoppable magic cracked the marble down to its foundations, right to the mountain’s base, but only after setting the palace aflame. Every time she watched, cackling, as all of Canterlot came crumbling down around her, burning to cinders and ash. Even when she was awake, she thought about coming back often. What she’d do, how it would feel. None of it compared to actually being here. It still smelled like gorgeous, glamorous perfume. The halls shined the same beneath her hooves. She even missed the comforting presence of guards on patrol. No matter how many years went by, it still felt powerful and grand, but also, more importantly, like home. Together, Sunset and Twilight stood outside the door carved with the symbol of a sun, marking Celestia’s private chambers. Two batpony guards flanked the door, mare and stallion. The mare nodded to Twilight. “Good evening, Princess.” “The same to you, Night Breeze.” The silence compelled Twilight to lower her voice, and Sunset couldn’t blame her. “Is the princess—” The impossibly thick oak door swung open with the tingle of magic. Princess Luna emerged from inside. It was times like this Sunset never really had to wonder why ponies used to be unsettled by her, peering out like that. Luna came forward, the shadows revealing her powerful body and silver crown, and the guards stepped aside. “Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer. I wish it was a happier occasion, but my sister will be glad you came.” Twilight nodded but left it at that. Motioning for them to follow, Luna disappeared back into the room. When Twilight hesitated, Sunset took the lead and let her friend hide behind her. Once inside, Sunset didn’t want to breathe. There was a lump in the bed. A golden crown and jewel-encrusted breastplate rested on the night table, glistening. Princess Cadance waited at the bedside, holding a hoof from the blankets and beckoning them over. Luna stood at distance, stopping by the fireplace. The lighting only worked to make her look more like a shadow. “Princess?” Sunset heard herself ask. She sounded hollow, and her voice hung in the air. She hesitated and looked back to Twilight, who held a hoof to her mouth. Twilight couldn't move further, and that made it easier for Sunset to take the first steps for her. As Sunset came closer, Cadance backed up and offered the white hoof she was holding. Sunset took it, with Twilight coming in behind her. Celestia didn’t look like herself. It just wasn’t that she was pale, it was that she looked like was was wearing a wet, clay mask and that she smelled like a hospital. Deep bags hung under her eyes. To make it worse, Sunset had never held her hoof when she wasn’t wearing her slippers. She could feel a trembling in her ex-mentor’s bones. Then, Celestia unfurled a smile, and it was like Sunset’s heart had been sliced down the middle. Celestia’s voice never sounded so forceless or flimsy as it did when she said, “Hello, my little ponies.” Sunset couldn’t move. It felt as if a black hole emerged in her stomach, threatening to collapse her whole world. “… Hi,” she said, her throat closing off like a faucet. Twilight managed to break herself free of what seemed like a freeze spell she’d been put under. Her eyes shined in the firelight, and her tiny voice crashed against Sunset’s ears as Twilight remembered the flowers. “… Trixie Lulamoon sends her best.” Celestia reached out with her other hoof. Not her magic. She hummed. “What beautiful flowers. She remembered my favourites.” Sunset’s voice landed in the dark end of her range. “You can’t use your magic, can you?” “I’m afraid not,” she said, placing the flowers on her bedside. “Good thing I still have hooves, hm?” Twilight let out a small gasp. “Princess… how did this happen? How is this possible? Did you give up your magic? Is it some kind of spell?” Cadance’s downtrodden voice cut in from a ways behind them. “We don’t know why this is happening. She came down with it a week ago, and she’s only gotten worse since.” “I can answer for myself, Cadance,” Celestia said, a smirk hidden in the depths of her voice. “We don’t know why this is happening.” Sunset wanted to smile, too, but she couldn’t get control of herself long enough to fake it. “How are you feeling right now?” “Happy that you both would come all this way.” The way she said that, Sunset suspected the real answer was something scary she didn’t want her or Twilight to have to hear. She shut her eyes, but kept as much of a smile as she could without it looking forced. “And, admittedly, very, very tired.” Sunset’s eyes burned. She knew what Celestia meant, but seeing this version of her mentor say that blindsided her. And the fact that she didn’t want to cry made it impossible not to. “What’s wrong with you? What is it? A plague?” “We do not know.” Luna’s cool voice cascaded over them while she watched the fire eat at the timber. “We’ve brought in Equestria's top physicians, but they haven’t found a single diagnosis.” “How long ago did you ask them?” Sunset could hear Twilight crying beside her, and it occurred to her that she must’ve started after she did. “Maybe if they have more time, they could find a solution.” “I fear their efforts are not amounting to anything. Some have already given up.” Sunset’s face twisted into a grimace. She was always a proponent of ripping the band-aid off fast, but it didn’t mean she had to like the pony who did the ripping, especially when it wasn’t her. “Then I’ll figure it out,” she said, her voice quaking. Her stomach clenched. I can’t figure it out. Why would I say that? I’m not a doctor. She clamped her teeth down. Sunset recognized the look on Celestia’s face, the one where she tried to hide her disappointment. After all these years, and even after she came back and apologized, there was still a part of Sunset that hadn’t changed, and Celestia knew it. She could see her student for what she was. “Sunset…” It only made it worse that the sound of her voice, or more accurately the sound of her mentor being right, made a part of her angry. It was like she was a teenager again. I really haven’t changed. She dried her burning cheeks, and turned toward Twilight. “I’m not a doctor. But thanks to you, Twilight and I are some of the best researchers in Equestria. We can figure out what’s going on if we work together, right Twilight?” Twilight’s resolve finally had something to settle on. “We’ll do our absolute best.” “We’ll do more than that,” Sunset said, pinning her forehead between her brows. She could still feel Celestia’s hoof shaking in hers and that managed to direct the fire inside elsewhere. “We’ll find a cure. I promise.” Regarding Sunset, the princess kept masking her disappointment, but at least she got better at it if that smile was anything to go by. “That means you’ll be staying for dinner?” “Dinner?” Twilight asked, in that cross between deadpan and complete bafflement she had. Celestia sat up in her bed with only a bit of extra effort. Twilight’s magic supported her, whether she needed it or not. “It’s not every day I get to share a meal with all of you at once. I would say it’s a special occasion. And all of you know how we celebrate special occasions here.” Both Twilight and Sunset’s ears pricked up, both grateful to be able to smile again. Twilight wagered a guess: “With a five-course feast prepared by the best chefs in the country?” Celestia smirked, and took the opportunity to wrap her wings around Twilight and Sunset and turn them into her crutches. “Ah. So it hasn’t been as long as I thought. You still remember.” “Are you sure you can manage?” Cadance came over, ready to support her aunt. “You should be resting.” “Yes, it’s certainly on my agenda. But I also should be spending time with my students, and I for one think that is a higher priority, don’t you?”