//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Red Giant // Story: Her Own Sky // by Ice Star //------------------------------// Sunset Shimmer scowled and quelled the embers of aura forming on her horn. The sparks of fire as lively and vibrant as her coat vanished with a haze of cyan. Instead of a soft twinkling sound, there was an audible, temperamental pop to the magic. The thirteen-year-old filly took a deep breath, though it was one of disbelief rather than exhaustion. Then, she looked Princess Celestia directly in the eyes. "What do you mean 'that's it'?" Celestia brushed a few cinders off her withers and remained aloof. It was as though no gray speckles of debris had marred her coat in the first place, such was how immaculate her expression was. "Oh, my Faithful Student, I meant exactly what I said, Sunset. I don't need to see any more of your spell. You have failed this test, and I am sure you will do much better next time. Please review your instructions better for—" Sunset blinked back ash-induced tears. Her muzzle was crinkled up and she tried to shoot the princess an icy gaze. "What's wrong with my spell?" "I asked if you could hit all the targets on the tarp above us, and with no more than three bolts of fire maximum." Princess Celestia nodded up to the tarp hanging just above them, previously pulled too taut to sway. Except now, it was punctured perfectly in all but the last carefully painted target. Each hole was like a wound in some brightly colored silken flesh. The frayed edges bled ashes down on the goddess and unicorn below, the majority of the stuff settling on the head of the latter like a misshaped crown. "I used one bolt of fire for all of them! Princess, I almost hit every single one! I was able to control the flame perfectly and—" Princess Celestia cut her student off with a mere wave of her hoof. "You are too arrogant, my Faithful Student. I am afraid that pride fits nopony, and is what perches in the heads of so many and convinces them to shut their ears to the word of others. Do you want to be that kind of pony?" Sunset pulled back from the princess' reach, her eyes narrowing with a verbal sting Princess Celestia couldn't recall giving. "Too arrogant? There was nothing in the rules you set down that I couldn't do this! I practiced that spell for weeks, just like you—" "Are you suggesting that you looked to bend the rules of this assignment for your own pleasure? The rules exist for a reason, Sunset. Why do you continue to seek to disobey the rules I have made for your education? Why must you be so focused on pride?" A small spark too light next to Sunset Shimmer, but she angrily stopped it out with a forehoof. "Of course there are rules! Magic can't exist without rules..." Sunset took a heaving breath fit for an unruly child, "...but the rules you've been teaching me by... they're beyond rigorous, Princess! They're... They feel wrong! You never give me anything to challenge myself! What can I possibly take pride in? I've been wasting so much of my potential... if I have any left. I wanted to challenge myself, since you won't." "Sunset, you are not here—" Princess Celestia swept a wing to indicate Canterlot Castle behind them, "—for the purpose of being challenged. You are my Faithful Student because you have great power that you need to learn to keep in check. Most of all, you have proven that you have enormous potential which—" Sunset Shimmer stamped her hoof with such blatant disobedience that Princess Celestia barely had time to control the flush of her face and bury it. "What's the point of me having the potential to do anything if I never put it to use?! I don't feel like a Faithful Student at all; I'm not learning anything other than rules! Your rules, that's all I've really been learning! My own cutie mark tells me I'm supposed to play with fire—it feels right! I could finally do something that feels right!" "Sunset—" "Am I just some sort of trophy to you, Princess? It doesn't feel like being a Faithful Student is meant to be anything at all. Come on, won't you please tell me? What's the point? You keep acting like it's gonna be me — or one of the previous ones — that is meant to be the best of the best. But in five years, it sure seems like all that being a Faithful Student entails is prestige and more library privileges. Oh, and I get to ogle at myself in the stupid castle pillars." "Sunset Shimmer," Princess Celestia cautioned, her tone stern and almost cold. The spitfire of a filly ignored every hint of her mentor's warning. "The last Faithful Student became a college professor. All she ever did was die old and... now she's just a portrait in the halls of the castle or a name to have on one of the campus buildings of your school. If we're so special then why did Gusty just... fade from everything?" Princess Celestia cleared her throat with the utmost, highly frustrating degree of politeness. "Sunset, Gusty did not 'fade' and you shouldn't speak of what you don't understand— " "I feel like I'm just supposed to be some kind of ornament instead of a real pony." Celestia looked appalled. "You are a real pony, Sunset. Why would you believe that you weren't? Just what do you think other ponies would say if they heard you say something so negative? Why in the heavens' name would you ever say something so morbid and cynical?" "I'm not treated like one, maybe? I don't want to be a good filly who stays at your side forever." "Sunset, who is telling you these awful things?" Princess Celestia took a step toward her Faithful Student, and Sunset took one away from the sun goddess' advancing shadow. Instead of looking spurned, Princess Celestia's eyes flooded with just a trickle of worry clouded with a whole storm of confusion. "Actions speak louder than words, Princess. You told me that. I wonder if it's really true. 'Cause you sure think that your shadow is big enough to live in based on what you show." "Sunny— " "Don't call me that anymore! You're not my grandmother!" Sunset shrieked. She turned away and began to storm back towards the castle. As she went away from the garden grounds, a stray wave of Sunset's magic rippled across her coat and down to her hooves. As she galloped faster and faster, the black jacket she always liked to wear flowing in the wind. Princess Celestia looked around the hedge maze pavilion and sighed, brushing a few ashes on the ground with her wingtips, pushing them under a topiary wall until everything looked clean again. Another lesson went wrong, and all because of another one of Sunset Shimmer's tantrums. There was an awful routine to the filly's lashing out, and this was nowhere near the ugliest. Disobedience and moodiness were the hallmarks of adolescence, and there was little else that the princess could think of that would cause such issues — especially when they clearly lay within Sunset Shimmer's own heart. The princess had never had a pre-teen for a student before, since before Sunset the youngest pony who was fit for the picking of a Faithful Student's role was usually fourteen to start with. At last, Princess Celestia tutted and then quietly began to clean everything up again. In ten minutes it looked as if nothing had happened and she began her flight back to the castle. ... At dinner, they had their worst fight yet, and both of them trotted away thinking that they were right. ... Dear Sunset, I have allowed you your space tonight after your two outbursts. This amount is certainly unheard of from you, and I am going to need you to start doing better in the future. Even if this unstructured solitude is not an incentive that I would normally permit, I will allow it this once, provided you show signs that you have used it properly. My office will be open for you to slide any apology letters and lines under the door at least two hours later than usual, and if you wish to rehearse something tomorrow morning, I shall accept that too. We could even discuss making it worthy of bonus points for your manners class. I understand that you are frustrated with your studies and the speed of your progress. Acting out is no way to express this, nor is withdrawing from the open hooves of other ponies a proper way to cope. You are biting my hoof at this point, and should not be surprised when I find that unmannerly and unacceptable. After tomorrow, I would like to see you start to open up and begin to focus less on yourself. Though I say this gently, I do not ask this. When it comes to your behavior, I am no longer asking for kindness. Never before have I met anypony who dared think that kindness was optional, and I see that in order for you to learn properly, adjustments will have to be made. One of those is quite obvious — you think that other ponies will listen to you without you learning to listen to them and respect your elders. When adults tell you to do things — whether that is me or the castle staff — you cannot be questioning them or speaking out. Shocking, bitter things spoil other ponies' days and have no place in your lessons or my castle. Your worry will fade as you communicate more openly, and I promise I will be more open to listening to your venting if you practice kindness and obedience more. Your pride will be able to transform into something healthier, and all your negativity will be cleared if you fling those worrying questions from your mind. I see how much they interrupt your learning. I will not allow a Faithful Student to have behavior that is so destructive. You are in clear need of friends, and I don't want you to be crumpling this as soon as you read this line. I do not assign you too much work that you can't make friends, Sunset Helia Shimmer. I assign you the same workload that I would my other Faithful Students at your level, and my lessons are age-blind. My curriculum is well-appreciated by all who know of it, and in all the time I have maintained Faithful Students, there has never been any unicorn who couldn't learn from it. You should be no different. If this kind of antisocial behavior keeps up, I know that you know the conditions of your studies is not wholly unknown to you. If I find that for any reason you are an unsatisfactory pupil, your Faithful Studenthood contract may be discontinued at any time. This was discussed with your grandmother when she signed my papers regarding your transfer from my School of Gifted Unicorns to a Faithful Student. I will spell things out for you here and now, as simply as they must be: you are going to begin to make friends. I am not going to discontinue your studies, but they will not resume until you have made at least one friend. If needed, I will work the same social program I use for my unicorns at my school on you — you will be assigned a group of three other unicorns as friends. While this works best with the traditional grade-level system, I'm afraid we would have to go down drastically in order to consider your age above your skills to encourage appropriate socialization. These friends will be as mandatory as your homework assignments, and I'll be hearing absolutely nothing about how much you dislike them. Ever since she has gotten here, I have received nothing but ill reports about how you have treated Princess Cadance. You will not bully these ponies, or I absolutely will terminate your Studenthood contract — any breach in what is an appropriate relationship count towards the discontinuation of your studies. Whether that relationship is with me — as we have unfortunately had to discuss in the past — or towards anypony else, like my staff or your peers. (Yes, you do have peers. No matter how much you refuse to acknowledge them.) If you cannot make friends appropriately, I will end my lenience with you. And I will be deeply sorry to see all your potential to leave with you. Let tomorrow bring an optimistic, kind, and generous Faithful Student to await my morning dictation. I highly suggest making amends with Princess Cadance when this project has become something you're more used to. Do you think I haven't seen you two talking at the past two Summer Celebrations? She is somepony who would have made a great friend if you were not so wicked towards her. She may be older than you, but she is gentle and good at telling jokes. You two would have a hard time not getting along if you had put more effort into not yelling about her having both a horn and wings or being so snide. All of those things are highly unbecoming of the young lady that you are. By dawn, I do think you will reconsider the harsh words that you spoke to me. I may have forgiven you for them, but they were unnecessary, and I expect you to recognize this too. I know that you are a very smart young mare — but the extent of focus you've devoted to your studying is unnatural. There is more to life than the mastery of magical arts and the solitary state you've withdrawn to. Since you arrived from Tall Tale, I have seen the light inside you die down until I was faced with the embers you are today. That was very surprising for me to see since I can't understand where that light would have gone. I see that you enjoy your studies, but power is not something you should be seeking. Your astronomy books no doubt put great focus on their illustrations of the sun — some for the sake of style, though more likely to flatter me — but somepony long ago once told me that all the stars were just suns far away. Ponies have managed to make telescopes that can see very far away, but none that have been able to tell if this is true. I am inclined to doubt this, since it feels quite ill of destiny. We would not be alone in this world if that were true, and I need you to understand that what I just showed you is healthy, realistic, normal skepticism. What you are is rude towards other ponies' kindness, which is not appreciated. However, let us pretend for the sake of this letter that the stars-as-suns (my, how inappropriate it feels to make that plural) is true. I know you want to be the sun and light all that is around you. Nopony is the sun. Not even I am truly like that, and I cannot bring myself to think of myself so highly. You are not the sun, and contrary to how I may be styled neither am I. All of us are different ways to light the world, Sunnybun, and you are among my many perfect subjects — all of you are my little candles. I know that you'll learn this lesson too, and accept your destiny. Your Teacher, Princess Celestia ... Princess Celestia stood outside the same room that a young Twilight Sparkle would eventually call her own. She was a couple of minutes early but wanted to see if Sunset would try to make an offer to reconcile before ushering her off to breakfast. Only then would she consider switching their conversations to social concerns instead of magical matters. It would be the perfect way to ease Sunset Shimmer into her new routine, one that would seek to change her from a hellion to a heavens-sent beacon of benevolence. A moment passed and she still waited. Sunset was most likely applying the black cosmetics she liked to wear and would be out shortly. There were days when Sunset Shimmer hadn't worn her black-on-black ensembles at all. Those days were long-gone, each packed away into the memory of Princess Celestia, who could still recall Sunset as a fresh-faced nine-year-old. What on earth had happened to that filly? Where had her little candle, her tiniest ray of sunshine gone? Why had the Sunset Shimmer that Princess Celestia wanted slipped away from her life? The very Sunset Shimmer she would have been destined to need? Celestia sighed and rubbed her eyes with a forehoof, taking another sip of coffee from her mug. The color was of some plain color between slate gray and purple that had reminded her of twilight skies. Her gilded shoe knocked upon the door. Once. Twice. When no reply was given she promptly pushed the door open with her hoof, and found it gave away easily. The letter she slipped under Sunset's door last night was still there, but it was kicked aside slightly and torn open angrily. Had Sunset exited her room at some point in the night? Princess Celestia sure thought so; she had left the door to Sunset's room in the Faithful Student chambers unlocked. This was both to foster Sunset's openness to delivering her apology — which she had not done last night — and because Sunset Shimmer was of the age where the princess no longer worried about having to keep her door locked when she slept. She looked in Sunset's bed, pulling away the covers like a young foal might rip off a bandage. The only color beneath the pale blue sheets was the soft gray of shadows from the bed's canopy. Each was cast in all shades upon a row of sloppily bunched up pillows. "Sunnybun?"