Sunset cursed. It was well, well past midday in the Royal Canterlot Archives. The overlarge hourglass in the center glistened with the low light coming in from above, the sand pile on the bottom larger than she thought it had any right to be. When did that happen?
As a career student, Sunset should’ve been used to looking up from a book only to discover that her whole day apparently made a break for it when she wasn’t looking. It wasn’t her favourite way to spend a day, but she’d definitely lost more time than she’d care to think about that way. Twilight, her Twilight, once told her she liked it. Said it was satisfying. As cute as Sunset found it when she said it, she couldn’t quite agree. Every time it happened to her, it stressed her out. She hated time flying by like that, especially if she was only researching instead of actually solving a problem.
Maybe it was a side-effect of being an ex-megalomaniac. She’d bided so much time, wasting it reminded her that she wasn’t any closer to where she wanted to be. Or worse, that she was a day closer to dying without reaching her goals. She wasn’t trying to usurp the monarchy anymore, per se, but now she was doing something even more important. She needed time on her side.
They’d been working almost non-stop since dinner. They even slept at the library and picked up right where the left off in the morning. So far: a frustrating amount of nothing.
Groaning, Sunset squashed her scowl into her hooves. “Anything?”
Across the table by the window, Twilight flinched out of her book-induced coma, then frowned. “Not really, no.” She pushed aside the thick medical book in front of her. “Nothing really matches in Babbling Brook’s Degenerative Diseases. Although, that’s probably a good thing.”
Sunset seriously didn’t know what compelled so many Equestrian scholars to use so much alliteration. It didn’t make sense to Sunset Shimmer. Going through the medicinal section of the library from top to bottom really highlighted that to her. From the Almanac of All Known Cure-alls to the Curious Curse Compendium all the way to The Surprising-Sized Spoon Spellbook. Most of them were useless, but kinda chuckle-worthy after a pattern started to form.
“Well, Perplexing Pony Plagues hasn’t been all that helpful, either. None of her symptoms seem to connect to anything.” Sunset kicked it, then noticed Twilight’s look. “What?”
Twilight took the book in her magic, smiling at the cover like it was an old friend. “I used to have a copy of this book. I read it when Applejack’s little sister came down with the cutie pox.” Her smile dropped a little. “I haven’t read it since. I don’t have it anymore.”
Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Oh, did you lose it?”
“No. Well, yes, in a sense.” Twilight tapped her hooves together. “When I first moved to Ponyville, I wasn’t living in a castle. Spike and I used to live in the library there. I’ve told you about Tirek, haven’t I?” Sunset nodded. “Before he and I fought, he sort of burned it down. In a big, fiery explosion. With me inside.”
“… You lost your home?” Sunset froze, watching Twilight nod and squirm a bit. A breath escaped her lips, along with another curse. “Twilight, I’m so sorry. You never told me. That’s horrible.”
Twilight focused herself on her passionflower tea, which by now was running low. “It was, but it was a while ago. I’ve moved on now, thanks to my friends.” She put on a smile and straightened in her pillow-seat. That only made Sunset feel worse. She’s just like the other Twilight. Both of them are way too considerate for their own good.
From experience, she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere by pushing her. “I know it’s not the same, but maybe you could borrow this copy, if you miss it.” Sunset made a move towards Twilight’s library card, then stopped. She took it in her magic and cracked a smile. “Dear Celestia.”
The photo I.D. made Sunset want to feign a heart attack if she didn’t have the real one first. Twilight hadn’t updated the picture in a long time, so beside her name there was this tweenage unicorn with glasses, braces, and a pony-tail. Sunset realized she’d never seen Twilight as a unicorn before, and while that was definitely surreal, it was far less important than the fact that she might’ve been one of the cutest things on this or any other planet. It almost warranted scientific study.
Twilight blushed and smacked her forehead. “Oh, right.”
Sunset wore a huge grin and turned it around for her to see. “Twilight, you can’t be that cute. You shouldn’t be allowed.”
“Yes, well…” Twilight tittered. “My sense of style definitely improved when Rarity came into my life.”
Sunset chuckled. She took her own card out of her jacket’s breast pocket. She’d been surprised to find it last night in her old tower, along with the fact that Celestia kept all of her old things for all that time. Her card still had the same smug teen daring the photographer to take the picture.
Presently, she held it up in her magic right next to Twilight’s and smiled. “What do you think? Would they be friends?”
Twilight’s grin broke open, and she dug her chin into her hoof. “Friends, or worst enemies.” She tried for a dark expression but her smile ruined it, and the two of them started laughing soon after. “I don’t think either of us would’ve made a very good friend at that age, anyway.”
Sunset snorted. “No kidding. Would’ve been nice, though.” She put the cards back on the table between them and their stacks of books. She rested her chin on the back of her hooves, like a shelf. “Could’ve made those long, lonely nights studying a little less lonely. Exam season could’ve been nicer.”
“That was always my favourite time of year,” Twilight admitted.
Sunset sighed dreamily. “Yeah, mine, too. Would’ve been great to enjoy it with somepony else. Or, just, you know, talk to somepony who’s taking the same exams for a change.”
“Totally,” she said. “Or, to somepony who’s taking as many courses as you are.”
Sunset sat back, eyes hitting the skylight. “Or, somepony who got as many burn-out migraines trying to keep up with all the spells they had to learn.”
Twilight nodded, albeit slowly. “Or, somepony who was just as scared to drop below a ninety-five percentile because they didn’t want to let down the princess—or, embarrass her.”
Sunset's mouth opened, and they looked at each other. Neither of them could help the bittersweet smile on their faces. “Yeah. That would’ve been really, really nice.” They held each other’s gazes for a moment, then Sunset’s eyes dropped back to the students on the table. “You know we’re the only ponies alive who know what it’s like to be Princess Celestia’s protégé?”
Twilight’s eyebrows rose. “You’re right.”
“If only we’d been her students at the same time. When you think about it, that would’ve solved all of our problems. I wouldn’t be a self-important egomaniac, you wouldn’t be a cynical loner. We both would’ve learned about friendship. Everypony wins.”
Twilight smiled ruefully. “But then we never would have met our friends.”
“Then we never would have met our friends,” Sunset agreed. Or my girlfriend. Rainbow Dash would laugh if she knew she was missing Twilight already. Sunset probably should have laughed, too, it had barely been a day since she last saw her. But being in different dimensions for this long, the infinite distance between them felt increasing like light years, especially as the afternoon wore on. She shook her head. “I guess it all worked out in the end. And, it wasn’t so bad being Celestia’s only prized student.” She had a thought and smiled. “Hey, did you ever have lessons by the fireplace in her room when you were little?”
“All the time! Those were the best! Gosh, that’s where I learned how to teleport. Well, there and about thirty different places around the castle.”
Sunset giggled, picturing it. “At least you stayed inside the castle! Celestia had to buy me a train ticket back from Philly when I tried my hoof at it the first time. I somehow couldn’t quite get a handle on teleporting back.”
“Oh, wow.” Twilight tried to keep a giggle from escaping. “You were so talented, being able to teleport that far…”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Talented and dimwitted. If I’d just waited for her to finish the lesson, I would’ve been fine.”
Twilight snickered. “No, no, y-you were excited. In your defense, teleportation is a very exciting spell to learn when you’re five.”
“Six,” Sunset muttered. “And anyway, my point wasn’t whether I followed them to the letter or not. I loved having lessons in there.”
“Mm-hm.” A sip from her tea helped Twilight get her laughter under control. She smiled. “I think her hearth has to be my favourite place in the castle.”
Sunset nodded. “Mine’s the observatory.”
Twilight blinked at her.
Sunset frowned. “You know, the old, abandoned observatory.”
Twilight stared at her. “The castle has an observatory?”
“Right there. That tower. See it? They haven’t turned it into anything have they?” Sunset pointed out the window. Sure enough, waiting across the way was a bulbous tower with a telescope and a glass rooftop.
Twilight frowned. “That tower? That’s been closed off since I before I was a student here.”
“Yeah.” They stared at each other. “Wait, you’re telling me you’ve never snuck up there even once? It's forbidden. How could you not be curious about it?”
Twilight shrugged, making a face.
A sinister smile unraveled on Sunset’s face. “Then have I got something to show you.”
Contrary to her name, the cover of night suited Sunset best. It did not suit Twilight, however. She flinched at every passing shadow no matter how small. Stalking through the halls lead them straight past several guards, but if they had any questions about what they were doing out so late, Twilight’s Princesshood gave them a pass. It kinda paid to be with the Princess of Friendship.
It occurred to Sunset that none of the guards would even recognize her at this point, or very few. Used to be she could get away with getting up to no good on her own merits. Being Celestia’s personal student was her Get Out of Jail Free card, one or two times literally. It was really a shame she didn’t have that anymore. It might've come in handy that night if things went right.
Sunset lead the way across the outdoor walkway to the tower entrance, glad she brought her jacket for the cool night air. Well, that and one other reason.
Twilight relaxed a little now that there were no more guards around, but she was definitely still a little jumpy. She looked around like she expected punishment to fly in from the sky. Sunset smirked and made a show of looking around before she picked the lock. Then, she stopped partway through.
Twilight came to her shoulder and whispered, “What? What is it?”
“You learned the lock-picking spell. You must’ve. It was in one of the exams.” Sunset’s eyelids fell, and she leaned toward her. “You never used it once, did you?”
“Not all of us were rule-breakers like you, Sunset.”
She undid the lock and floated it over to into Twilight’s hoof. “Well, look how you’ve grown.”
Sunset opened the door, which swung inwards so that even though it was technically boarded up, there was still a way in if they stepped over the ones at the bottom. Meanwhile, the door creaked like a sound effect for a haunted house. Just the same as she remembered. She made a grand gesture inwards, like a servant would to invite their master to enter before them. Twilight rolled her eyes over and ducked into the dark. Sunset followed suit.
They both illuminated their horns even if all it gave them a better look at was a dim set of stairs at the other end of the room through a stream of dust motes. Sunset lead the way up the winding staircase. Towers like these always reminded her of a lighthouse, twisting around and around to get to the light up top. It took a lot of climbing up stone stairs, the dark brickwork seeming to go on forever, until it finally lead somewhere. Sunset stepped aside and swung a hoof outward. “Welcome to Princess Luna’s old observatory.”
Above, the enormous domed roof let the light of the moon and stars beam in, illuminating the carpet with Princess Luna’s cutie mark. The night sky was theirs to behold. They could see every shooting star, every passing cloud. The infinite expanse of space Luna controlled from millions of miles away floated above, framed by the bulbous skylight. By now, more than a few panels of glass had cracked or went otherwise missing, so cool night air flowed in freely, which only made them feel closer to the stars.
The humongous telescope that hadn’t been used in decades waited ahead, poking out of the skylight. All around, the walls were lined with book shelves. Sunset hadn’t read all of them, but she’d gotten her hooves into a few over the years, and each tome was more obscure than the last.
Ahead, the whole city of Canterlot spread out before them. The rail-free balcony gave an immaculate view of a lantern-lit mountain city tucking itself in for the night.
Twilight took a few entranced steps inside. A small, barely audible gasp slipped out of her with her neck tilted up to the sky. “Wow,” she breathed. “Sunset… this is beautiful.”
Sunset nodded, leaning against the door. Pushing off, she came over next to Twilight, smirking. “See what you’ve been missing out on?”
Twilight scrunched her snout and swatted her shoulder.
Settling back down, Sunset smiled in earnest. “It is something special. I used to come here a lot, whenever I wanted to be alone—or when I was mad at Princess Celestia and wanted her to worry about where I’d gone.” Sunset paused. “I wasn’t… the best pony.”
“Well, look how you’ve grown,” Twilight said. “Maybe this place used to mean something different, but that’s in the past now.”
Sunset wore a light frown, eyes stuck skyward on the moon. She spoke quieter than before. “… There’s another reason why this place was so special to me.”
Twilight waited, patiently.
“When I first became Princess Celestia’s student, the palace was so completely mind-boggling to me. I’d never seen anything so big, and everypony here treated me like it all was built just for me. I was young, I guess that’s just how you treat a filly, but it made me feel special. But, you know, I always knew all of it was really for Princess Celestia.
“She was just the most spectacular, most powerful pony in all of Equestria. I mean, who else could raise the sun every morning? Well… you know. She was amazing.” Sunset shook her head. “Studying under her was one thing, but… then I discovered this place, and suddenly all those old pony tales about another alicorn existing a thousand years ago were all true. The idea that there could even be another alicorn like Celestia,” she said, and laughed, “that was insane.”
Twilight was still. “And that inspired you.”
“How could it not? Look at this place. You can’t tell me if you were seven years old and you thought all this”—she motioned towards Canterlot—“could be yours someday, you wouldn’t ever dream about it.” Sunset nodded, staring out into the moonlit cityscape. “A lot of good it did me, thinking like that, but I thought maybe if I worked hard enough, did what I had to, I could rule alongside her, too. And this could be my room.”
Apparently, she hadn’t let that dream go. Being back at the observatory with Twilight, she’d kinda hoped it wouldn’t feel the same as it used to. But it didn’t. None of it did. How close was she to that seven-year-old filly? Or that fifteen year old mare who destroyed the only good relationship in her life over a crown?
There was a quiet moment between them before Twilight spoke up again. When she did, she placed a hoof on Sunset’s back. “I’ve never heard that side of the story.”
Sunset shrugged, moving towards the bookcase. “It’s not much different than the version you heard. I got too wrapped up in it too fast, went down a dark path getting over-ambitious.”
“If it’s any consolation, you’re not missing out on much. Being a princess is so much more stressful than she makes it look. Or, maybe I’m just—” Twilight frowned. “Sunset?”
“Yeah?” She browsed the titles on the shelves.
“You said this was Luna’s observatory?”
Sunset took a book down in her magic and cracked it open, dust spilling out, and she parsed through the pages. “Uh, yeah, before she became Nightmare Moon. I guess this place had too many memories for her to want to live here again. I can definitely understand that.”
Twilight shook her head, walking towards her. “Luna never lived in Canterlot Castle before she became Nightmare Moon. I don’t think Canterlot even existed. Celestia and Luna had their own castle in the Everfree forest, the Castle of the Two Sisters. My friends and I renovated it for them.”
Sunset turned to look at her. “Twilight, how does that make any sense? That’s her cutie mark, isn’t it?”
The moon and dark splotches on the carpet were big, but not too big to be able to see the big picture. They’d had dinner with Luna the night before, it was pretty unmistakably hers. If that wasn’t enough, the carpet itself was approximately the same deep blue as her coat, if not a little washed out from sun exposure.
“I don’t know why that’s there, but this wasn’t her room. I’ve seen her room. I saw when she was banished to the moon, and it wasn’t in Canterlot.”
“... Huh.” Sunset’s eyes slid down to the book she was carrying and stopped on a new page. She smiled. “Then, explain this.”
Twilight prodded over and took the book in her magic. When she read the heading, her eyes bloomed. “Does that say… Alicorn Histories?”
“Yep,” Sunset said, hooves crossed. The way Twilight pounced on it like a little filly made Sunset crack a smile. “The Equestrian’s a little archaic, but it’s pretty unmistakable if you ask me.”
Then Twilight punched her in the shoulder.
“Ow! What? What’d I say?”
“You knew a secret library of forgotten books existed with long lost knowledge, possibly thousands of years old, and you didn’t tell anypony? Sunset, this whole collection is a relic worth putting up in a museum! I shouldn’t even be touching this without gloves!”
“If I told anypony, I’d lose my secret hiding place.” Her ears laid low, like she wished she could do. “… That was pretty selfish of me, huh?”
Twilight’s anger waned seeing her expression. “So, you’ve never shared this with anypony else?”
“Not a soul. And the first pony I did punched me, so I guess there was a good reason.”
The smile on Twilight’s face made Sunset want to smile back, even if she didn’t know what they were smiling about. “Well, at least now we have something we know those doctors didn’t.” She held up the cover of one of the books: Alicorn Ailments. Again with the alliteration, Sunset thought. Crap. Now I’m doing it.
They beamed at each other. Sunset almost had to laugh. This place had been just hers for so long, she really hadn’t given it a second thought. But, there was nopony on Earth she’d rather share it with. Or at least, on this Earth. But, all things considered, she'd gotten a decently close replacement in the meantime. She wondered if it would just be déjà vu bringing the human Twilight here. At least she could make the same jokes.
“Well, a lead that good calls for some serious celebration.” Sunset nodded over towards the balcony and made her eyebrows hop.
“Let’s,” Twilight said.
They walked out into the night. Sunset took a seat with her hooves dangling off the balcony. Twilight sat down far from the edge at first and then scooted a bit so she was just as daring. Sunset made a mental note that Twilight had wings but kept it to herself. She didn’t particularly care to wipe that look from her best friend’s face. “I really don’t blame you for wanting this all to yourself, you know. It’s so peaceful, so beautiful, so—oh my gosh that’s alcohol. You’ve got alcohol, okay.”
Sunset’s grin gleamed in the moonlight, pulling a beer out from her jacket. “You didn’t think I’d bulked up overnight, did you?”
“I hadn’t really noticed,” she said, voice tilting up before she made a face when Sunset pulled out the second bottle. “You’re a little too good at sneaking that stuff around.”
Sunset threw her head back at that one, mostly because she had a whole pack. “I promise, I haven’t done it in years. Good to know I’ve still got the touch, though.” She popped the top of the first and offered it to Twilight. “This round’s on me if you want it. Best brew in Canterlot, guaranteed.”
“I know peer pressure when I see it, Sunset Shimmer, and it looks exactly like you in a leather jacket offering me a beer.”
Sunset shrugged. “Not a problem. More for me. I’ll drive you to drink yet.”
Twilight giggle-snorted. “Well, you have your work cut out for you. I’m not much of a drinker. I’ll have a drink or two with the girls, but nothing major. The only time I was ever really into it was when I tried to be a wine drinker to be more ‘cultured'.” Her hooves did little air-quotes before she leaned toward her with her hoof cupped around her mouth. "That's teenage Twilight for pretentious."
Sunset took a sip. “Were you any good at it? Holding a drink, I mean. I might need to know, you know, if the other Twilight ever decides to get a little more cultured.”
“All I ever got were headaches,” she said, chuckling, then raised an eyebrow. Beside her, Sunset downed over half the bottle in one go. “Looks like you want an example. Should I be worried?”
Sunset finished her not-so-dainty sip and sniffed. “Nah, no, no. I’ll be fine, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?” Something shifted when she said that, in a way Sunset didn’t really care for. “You can have a drink if you want, of course, but I know the news was pretty hard to hear, and seeing her like that…”
Sunset bristled but tried not to let the thorns hurt anypony but her. “I get the concern. I’m okay. But, I know what you mean,” she said through a pent-up breath finally escaping. Her forehead wrinkled, and she looking up. “I never thought she’d get like that. Not her.” She looked down the neck of her beer, then at Twilight. “It still doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said, looking down at her hooves. “But it’s at least nice to have a friend who gets how much it doesn’t. Even if it we didn’t get to grow up together, it kinda feels like we did.”
There was nothing in the world Sunset felt like she couldn’t say. A whole city lay at their hooves. She had a cold beer and her magic back, but none of it made her feel more free than being with Twilight. She really was her best friend, wasn’t she? Sunset bit her lip. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I just haven’t had the time. I’ve got a special somepony. In the other world. So, a special someone, I guess.”
Twilight’s eyes lit up and Sunset knew she’d made the right call. “I knew it! I mean, it was Rarity who sort of implied it, but details. Who is it?”
Sunset wasn’t surprised to feel her cheeks get toastier. “I’ll, uh, tell you later. You know, when things aren’t so… complicated.” She played with the label on her beer. “She’s really something special.”
“Special, huh?” Sunset quickly regretted ever teasing any world’s Twilight over a crush. Twilight feigned a gasp. “Did you hear that? I think… I think I hear wedding bells. Yeah, not so far off!”
And that’s how toasty became broiling. Where did that cold night air go? “It may or may not be out of the realm of possibility. Someday,” she added. Those eyebrows would be the death of her. “Okay. For your information, I could actually maybe see a future with this girl, but that’s when it’s going to happen. In the future.”
“Well, before that future comes, I’d be honoured to meet her in a more uncomplicated situation. If our lives could even be uncomplicated at this point.”
Sunset laughed, and Twilight joined in. It was kinda weird, talking to Twilight about Twilight. It only made her laugh harder. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll try to fit it in before the next doomsday. Guess that doesn’t give me a lot time, though, huh?”
Twilight shook her head. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. What kind of moonshine did you say it was?”
Sunset smiled wider as the bottle sizzled open. She raised her nearly empty brew and slung a hoof around Twilight's neck. “I have much to teach you…”
Sometime after she'd gotten Twilight to bed, the lock clicked and clattered as Sunset fumbled with it. It took a bit of jimmying with the rust and whatnot, but a proper shove got the job done with a bit of fuss on the door’s part. Yawning, she set the candles on fire around the open-concept room, pretty sure she’d just blow them out in a minute or two.
It wasn’t the first time she stumbled into her old apartment, and it wouldn’t be the last. If she could help it, anyway. Unlike the observatory, her old room had been used for something since she’d been gone, but mostly it was just to store boxes of test answers, those could be shoved aside. Her apartment back home made this place look like the lobby to a five-star, all-inclusive hotel.
That’s sort of what it felt like at this point. She was just checking in for the night, and in the morning she’d be gone again, just like that, a stranger in the night. Every now and then, she’d find something to get sentimental over, but on the whole, this room wasn’t her home anymore. She’d moved on, and in a way that was comforting.
Then she gasped and squealed like a filly going to Whinnyland, and every bit of self-restraint she had went the way of her self-respect. “Philomena!”
Sunset thundered up the last few steps to the platform she considered her bedroom and basically attacked the golden cage on the bedside table. The hatch just about broke off its hinges. The phoenix glowing inside flared until the cage looked like it was about to melt. The bird trilled as it swooped out onto Sunset’s waiting hoof.
Laughing and cooing in her golden light, the two of them butted heads before Philomena starting giving her love bites, singeing little curls of Sunset’s mane and more than anything, nuzzling her cheek. The leather from her jacket saved her hooves and only made things toastier.
The tears brimming at the sides of her eyes weren’t entirely pain-related. “Aw, I missed you so, so much, girl! Yes, I did. Yeah. You missed me, too, huh?” No one, human or pony, was allowed to hear her baby-talk voice except Philomena. Sunset’s cheek was definitely burning now, as Philomena purred into it. Sunset tried to keep from seething through her teeth. The beers made it easier, but not by much. “There’s a good girl.”
She frowned, then pulled her head back. “But what are you doing here?”
Aside from Philomena’s light, the room was dark and not very well kept. Dust had overtaken everything. Even if she’d left the place relatively clean, the boxes made it look like a storage closet, if not a fire hazard. Even her giant golden orrery in the center of the lower level, still keeping the planets aligned, was coated with dust and corrosion, like an old trophy. The place just wasn’t as cozy as it used to be. Even the warm colours lost the battle with the night a long time ago—or a few hours ago. She was drunk.
And she couldn’t wrap her drunk, cotton-filled head around that or anything until her eyes snagged on a charred scroll on her bedside. She took it in her magic and read:
She wouldn’t leave your side. Every time I took her out, she came right back here.
- Celestia
The parchment crinkled when it lowered. Now the proportion of pain to the other thing was a little different. “Philomena, I’m so, so sorry. You waited all this time?” She let out a breath. “If I’d of known, I would’ve come back for you.” She pressed her forehead into Philomena’s, even if it burned. A laugh leaked out of her. “I don’t know what the portal would’ve turned you into, but we could’ve had fun together.”
Sunset opened her eyes and stared at her bird, wincing. “… Can you forgive me?”
Philomena made a big show of turning her snout up, like the Bridleway star she was born to be, but soon after she poked Sunset with more pointy, burny kisses, purring once again.
“Thank you,” she said through a sigh. She let her hoof down so Philomena would perch on her back, like old times. That warmth, like a hot stone massage on her back, it did the body good. Her burn scars tended to disagree, but so long as Philomena was perched and not waving her wings around or pecking at her too much, it made her breathe easier. Sunset’s expression exploded. “Maybe I should bring you through the portal! You could come live with me, meet all my friends and my girlfriend Twilight. Uh, marefriend,” she said, as if the bird would need the clarification. “Don’t worry, she’s nice. She’s well-spoken, well-read, and a total knock-out. Plus, she likes birds. I made sure. She even has a lab owl, Owlicious. You two would really hit it off.”
Philomena bent her neck and Sunset raised an eyebrow. “What is it? Oh, I guess it’s a little surprising I’m dating anybody—”
Philomena shook her head, and jabbed her beak into her neck.
“Not it? Then what? Not an owl fan?” Another few stabs, prompting another stab at it from her. “Twilight? She… you recognize that name?”
Philomena spread her wings, trilling victoriously.
“Oh. You’ve already met her. I guess that makes sense in hindsight. But the Twilight I’m talking about is a little different.” Sunset guided her over to the end of her bed, where Philomena had charred the wood from the years of waiting there. Sunset slid off her jacket and pulled the journal from inside. “See this? This is magic. It lets me write to her, and no matter how far away she is, she can see it instantly and write me back.”
Philomena cooed, as if whistling.
Sunset blushed. “Quiet, you. I don’t use it for that.” When the bird doubted her, Sunset blushed harder. “I don’t! Look, this journal belongs to Princess Twilight, the one you met. But, this Twilight,” she said, grin unbeatable, “is my girlfriend. And, um. Well, Princess Twilight doesn’t exactly know my Twilight is, y’know, my Twilight, if that makes sense.”
Philomena hopped left.
“Alright, smart-mouth, so it’s not my best plan, but it won’t be this way forever. Princess Twilight’s my best friend in the whole multiverse, aside from my Twilight. I know it’s going to be weird for her, might even be weird for me, but I know it’s going to work out. The other her said so herself. Plus, she’s the Princess of Friendship. If anypony can handle a friendship problem like this, it’s her. You’ll see.”
Sunset hugged a pillow and spread out across her old silken sheets, still only the best. Imported, if she remembered right, from Minos, the Minotaur empire. Ponies could make all the generalizations they wanted about minotaurs being brutes, but when fiction came to fact, one thing was unmistakably true: they made the softest blankets in any kingdom out there.
Even still, it was not a real substitute for her girlfriend. The alcohol and distractions helped, but every now and then she’d forget to stop herself from thinking about Celestia. Up in that tower, right now, suffering and veiling it so thinly a light breeze could shake her to her core. Sunset felt so powerless. All she wanted to do was go home and be held, and instead, all she had was a book and a pillow.
She took out her quill. It was absurdly late. She’d be waking Twilight up. It was enough to make her pause, but the watchful eyes of her phoenix made her press on. If Philomena didn’t get to see this supposed magic book in action, Sunset would never hear the end of it.
Sunset took out a quill from her old stationary across the way, and wrote:
Hey. Sorry it’s so late. I meant to message you yesterday, I
Hey, Twilight wrote back. It’s okay. Are you?
Sunset had to stop. The answer was obvious, but the part that came next was a little harder to swallow.
Not so much. It’s hard. Miss you. She filled her in on everything up until that point, and did her best not to skirt around the hard details. She probably needed to address those. I’m also drunk right now, so some of that will make more sense now.
How drunk?
Coming back down to tipsy. Meant it to stop with the six-pack, but we raided the castle fridge after that. You’re a fun drunk, by the way.
Useful information. Glad you had a good time when you could. There was a big pause before the next burst of text flew in. How’s Princess Twilight?
Passed out by now, I imagine, but other than that, not any better off than I am.
Another big pause. To be fair, sometimes it took a moment. They’d get distracted or have to wait to see if the other person was done. Sunset had only had instant-messaging in her life for so long, she could understand a few extra seconds. Twilight did eventually find what she was going to say, though, and it turned out to be, Should I come to Equestria? I’ve been wishing I’d insisted on coming all day today. I’m really worried about you, and I just want to be there for you.
Sunset smiled, and held the book out for Philomena. “What’d I tell you? She loves me. And she likes birds.”
She got a crow of approval for that, now that the bird had read the cursive writing from another dimension.
As much as she just really wanted to hear her girlfriend’s voice right now, Sunset wrote back, Thanks, Twilight. It’s okay. I’ll be okay. A part of me wants to let you come, but that part of me could be the drunk part, and I’m not supposed to listen to her anymore. She gives me bad, fun ideas.
Oh, I know. I’ve seen you at the Christmas party, remember?
If I said no, would it surprise you?
Not in the slightest.
Well, hopefully I’ll remember this. You’re the highlight of my night. Sunset stopped then reconsidered: Actually, I should probably say you and seeing Philomena again (my pet phoenix). She’s right here, and if she reads this I’m screwed.
Phoenix? Is that why you have all those burn marks? All this time I thought you burned yourself. You should’ve told me!
Now it was Sunset’s turn to pause. I guess that must’ve been pretty alarming, huh?
They’re all over, of course it was alarming! Then Twilight backtracked. Not that I ever minded, I was just frightened you hurt yourself. With or without the scars, you’re gorgeous.
Sunset burst out snickering. Very smooth. You’re not too bad yourself, beautiful.
Are you sure you don’t want me there right now? Because I can’t show you how gorgeous I think you are through a book.
The flush on Sunset’s face made it clear: that was a lot closer to smooth. Her bird clearly wasn’t so sure about that smut thing from earlier.
Stop asking at exactly the right time and in exactly the right way. Sunset tried to keep that smile, and told her, Even if you’re not here, I’m really glad I have you to talk to.
Another pause. This one she couldn’t really wave away so easily, even if Twilight came back with Me, too.
Sunset slipped out a small sigh. What’s going on with you? All this time I haven’t asked my girlfriend how she’s doing. I sort of feel like there’s a rule against tha
Right now shouldn’t be about me. I can promise you I’m fine, and I’m sorry if anything I did made you worry anymore than you already are, but it’s not important. It’s like how you're not introducing me to Princess Celestia. There's just higher priorities. And right now, for once, that’s you. And, you can’t dissuade me of that, so don’t even try.
Somewhere along the way, Sunset must’ve looked distressed or something because Philomena hopped over from her little perch on the bedpost and waddled over onto her back. Sunset pressed her lips together. She really should’ve gone for that kiss back in the museum. Twilight had strong walls, but they could melt under the right pressure. If she’d just gotten to the problem before she reinforced them…
Around then, Twilight added, You’re too sweet for your own good.
I know a few ponies who’d disagree with you.
Exactly my point. You need to focus on your feelings for a change, not the rest of the world.
I was going to be the first pony on that list.
Even from an immeasurably long distance away, Sunset could tell Twilight was unimpressed. You know exactly what I meant, Sunset. This is a hard time for you, and I’m not there to do it, so please, take care of yourself for me.
The burning in her back let her know it was either time to start boiling some water there or that she should get Philomena off while she was still able to comb her coat over the burns. She winced.
Okay, she wrote, I love you.
At least there was no pause when Twilight wrote back I love you, too.
After a slightly later start the next morning, the library had all the fun sucked out of it. The headaches and grouchiness had worn off (mostly), but between the two of them, neither was ready for or experienced in ancient Equestrian. Most ponies barely considered it a language. Now they had to find a way to decode it.
“This is impossible, isn’t it?”
Sunset looked up with a pencil in her mouth.
Holding what was no doubt a headache on par with medieval torture, Twilight had a hoof acting as a support beam to keep her head from crashing down. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how we’re going to do this, Sunset. It’s too much to even know where to begin.”
Taking the pencil out of her mouth, Sunset reached across the table. “I know it’s hard, but Princess Celestia needs us to come through. If we send this away to be analyzed properly, it’ll take months, if not years. We have to try.”
“But try what? We’re not linguists, we’re not doctors or medical theorists. I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to stay positive with you because I think you’re right. We have to figure out a way. I just…” Some thought really did a number on her, and in a second Twilight was teary-eyed. “We can’t fail this time. We can’t let her down.”
Sunset clamped her jaw shut tight. If she started crying, which she most definitely could, it would take time away from working that they sorely needed. Logic like that didn’t make it easy. Instead, it was sort of like trying to replace a dam that had crumbled and cracked in catastrophic ways. She could shield it in with enough force, but it took every bit of strength she had in a time when she was really counting on that wall to be there.
She focused on squeezing Twilight’s hoof. “Well… doesn’t sound much different than usual to me.”
There was an insignificant pull at Twilight’s mouth. “It doesn’t, does it? Our lives are so weird,” she said, getting a laugh out of Sunset. She took a breath. “Okay. So, at the rate it’s taking us to translate all this, we’ll, um, run out the clock before we make any real strides towards a cure. We need a different approach.”
“You’re right. But what kind of approach?” Sunset shoved aside the histories and comparative texts that, if she was honest, stopped having any meaning at least an hour ago. Her brain, maybe on protest after last night’s binge brain-cell massacre, refused to connect meaning to symbols. “At this point, I’ve never been more ‘all ears’ in my life.”
Placing her books aside as well, Twilight held her chin. “Maybe something a little more theoretical? Whatever it is, it’s a magical illness, it should at least behave predictably.”
“You want to take this to the lab?”
“Not yet. We need some kind working theory.” Screwing up her face, Twilight tapped the books. “So far… our hypothesis is it’s an alicorn-specific illness, right? It doesn’t have to be, but let’s say it is. Why would Celestia come down with it now? There’s only five alicorns in existence, so it’s not a contagion. Or, isn’t one that we can prove, I should say, but the point is if it’s something in these books, it has to be ancient.”
The breathless quiet in the library stilted thought almost as much as the mutterings of a crowded venue would’ve. She set her jaw aside, thinking. “I don’t know. She’s supposed to be immortal. That’s what I don’t get. She should be protected against this kind of stuff.”
Twilight pointed. “You know, I actually think I’ve seen something like this. Discord once came down with a flu after pretending to come down with the flu. He still won’t tell me exactly how immortal he is or if he is at all, and I wouldn’t use him for any comparison sample, but it’s something.” Outside, the castle bells rang for noon, but that wasn’t what had Twilight pausing. “What?”
Sunset didn’t shiver so much as feel the temperature drop raise goosebumps beneath her coat. “Sorry, I forget that you're friends with him sometimes. I haven’t met him, so I guess I’m still used to hearing all those stories about what he could do to ponies when he was in power. I, uh. It’s stupid, and I’m sure he’s not like this now, but when I was really little, I saw his picture in a book somewhere with all those stories. Let’s just say it wasn’t flattering. I had nightmares for weeks. After that his statue always freaked me out.”
“Really? You should tell him whenever you two meet. He’ll really like that. I can summon him now if—”
“No, no,” she said, way too loud for the library not to blast it back at them. “I’m good. I just. I mean, some other time. If that’s okay.”
“No problem. One harrowing experience at a time is fine with me. Although, I might have to write him, then. He’s been around almost as long as Luna and Celestia. If Luna doesn’t recognize it, maybe he will.”
She sat back, pretending every set of eyes in the library wasn’t aimed squarely her way now. “Sure. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us how an ancient illness can just suddenly pop up again without any warning.”
Twilight frowned. “Sunset… what if whatever this is didn’t just pop up again? What if this is something she’s had all along?”
“What do you mean?”
“This is purely hypothetical, but if some alicorn sickness was already lying dormant in Celestia when she became immortal—”
Sunset’s hooves dropped on the table. “That would explain how she got sick in the first place!”
“Hypothetically,” Twilight quipped, but Sunset could hear a spark rocketing through her voice. It was the same spark her Twilight had when she uncovered some critical new angle in her readings or experiments. A perspective she hadn’t considered, or a revolutionary idea she was about to set loose on the world. It was one of the first things that made Sunset realize she was in love with her. She wasn’t just a nice pair of glasses and a kind, beautiful girl beneath them. Learning gave her an irresistible high that was contagious to any mind willing to listen. Twilight’s voice went on that way. “If that’s true, it might be Celestia’s immortality that kept it at bay so long. Why it’s affecting her now, we can figure out, but this means these books really might have our answer!”
“Twilight, you’re amazing!”
Then she blushed, because of course she did. “Well… that means a lot coming from you.”
And Sunset realized what she was doing. Where she was leading this. Who’s hoof was still on who’s. Missing her girlfriend was one thing. This was immature. She wasn’t the ring-leader in a high school drama anymore. She wasn’t going to just use ponies like that. She wasn’t who she used to be. But this is what she would’ve done before, isn’t it? Use someone or somepony as a means to an end?
Twilight followed her eyes and found what she was looking at, and Sunset’s heart tried to explode like an overripe popcorn bag, steaming and prickling with dozens of things trying to burst out at once. Twilight got this smile on her face, this grateful smile, and Sunset was pretty sure that the bag exploded.
“Sunset… I’m really glad you’re here,” she said, eyes starting to shine. The light outside was getting low, like a campfire ready to burnout. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. And, I’ve been thinking about everything, and… you’re like a big sister to me.”
Eyes fit to bursting, Sunset rushed out: “I’m dating the other world’s Twilight.”