//------------------------------//
// Divine Mysteries, by FoME 
// Story: Group Precipitation 
// by FanOfMostEverything 
//------------------------------//

The concept of the divine choir was not unknown in Equestria. Angels were a recognized magical phenomenon; the pureharts roamed the outer edges of the atmosphere, drawing on rarified æther for sustenance and warding off the outer horrors that lurked between the stars. Sunset had even seen one of the cervine creatures once when it spoke with Celestia. By all rights, the luminous doe should've looked silly, twice as tall as the princess with a body barely thicker than one of Celestia's hooves. But there had been a beauty there that transcended physical appearance, an unimpeachable dignity.

A holiness.

The memory of the purehart was one of the reasons why Sunset knew she was no god, even if she'd grudgingly started using the term as self-referential shorthand.

Still, all of that failed to explain the pure light and ecstatic chorus emanating from Sunset's open dresser. She sighed, shut the drawer, and went to her computer. A few moments later, she was on the official Shimmerism forum, which in her mind made for a far more efficient way of communicating with her followers than prophetic dreams or magic coffee tables. A few keystrokes later and she sent a private message to the forum admins, who were also the leaders of most major sects of Shimmerism.



From: StillNotGod
Subject: I'm Not Mad, Just Disappointed

Okay, who's the wise guy who's been venerating my underwear drawer?