I walk down my hallway, surrounded by my subjects. Nominally, of course, it’s property of CK High, but in fact it’s mine, and so are they.
And they know it.
“Morning, Queen!” says the football star by his locker. I tilt my head approvingly in his direction, being sure not to react too much. A shy, formerly popular girl waves to me from the other wall. There’s no need to wave back.
My pace is slow, letting me bask in the warmth of popularity. It hasn’t gotten old all year.
But I can always do better.
One of the nerds, from the school paper, is reading the latest edition. “Give me that,” I say, and swipe it from his hand. He flinches in deference.
The front page has some fluff about a prom or a fashion show or whatever at a nearby school named Canterlot High. More interesting than the text is the photograph to accompany it: a picture of the gala’s organizers. Six girls, hard at work.
My eyes narrow. I’ve been keeping tabs on these girls, listening to rumors: an incredible event at some backwater campground; awesome magical powers, held by six teenagers whose descriptions match the picture before me. The kinds of rumors most people would dismiss. I haven’t been “most people” in ages.
There’s someone else in the picture, mostly hidden behind the others. I see amber skin, and red hair with streaks of gold.
Some of the rumors I’ve heard don’t say six girls—they say seven. But none of the rumors say what Sunset Shimmer’s power is. She’s definitely in with the other six, and maybe rules them, but there’s not enough information in the stories I’ve heard.
I’ve had enough of rumors.
Crumpling the paper into my pocket, I head to the gymnasium, where my first period class is held. “Mr. Racks!” I call out in singsong; you can afford playfulness when you own things.
He looks up from his attendance sheet in surprise. “Oh, Queen! It’s good to see you today.”
I sidle toward him and pat him on the cheek. “Make sure I’m marked present for the day, won’t you? I’m taking a field trip.”
“Ah… yes, of course, my queen,” he mumbles, marking me in as he bows his head. “Um, where are you going?”
“CHS.” I crack my knuckles. “I’ve got extracurricular learning to do.”
That’s the plan. First to learn, and then to rule.
“By the way,” I say, pulling the paper out again, “friendly question.” I uncrumple it and hold up the picture, tapping a finger against it. “Which of these girls do you think I should pick first?”
I open my palm and see diamonds shimmering over my white skin. I hear their twinkle, like chimes in the wind.
There’s an incredible sense of deja vu, like a dream forgotten when you wake up, only to be remembered years later. Somehow I always knew I could do this—
“Yo, Rares!”
The diamonds in my hand are covered by a load of decorative crap. I look up in annoyance and see... Rainbow Dash, I remember now, and she’s staring at me with an impertinent expression. “If you've got time to mess with your magic, you've got time to carry these where they gotta go. Solstice Gala's tomorrow, so move it!”
I scowl, but before I can either protest or reach out and touch her, she's piling more nondescript supplies into my arms. Somehow we never make contact. “Hop to,” she says, pointing behind me, as if I should know where this ephemera goes.
“Right away, darling!” I say, smiling to her face before I turn and glower. That tacky-haired twit; who does she think I am, loading my arms with junk?
As I walk away, trying not to fall, I let out a humorless snort. Silly question: she thinks I'm Rarity. That's the point.
I teeter along, wondering where I can dump this so I can get back to practicing with my new power—I’d been expecting to get her appearance, not the package deal—and then I see an unkempt mane of red-and-yellow hair, just over the top of my arm-pile. I lean forward and see the girl the hair belongs to: she's staring out the window, watching the snow fall.
Sunset Shimmer. The one I don't know about.
I walk toward her, trying hard not to lose my balance, and watch as she raises a hand to the window and holds it there. The hubbub around us falls away. She's lost in thought, like some ancient sage—
Oh, nevermind. She's just started hacking her lungs out.
“Are you quite all right, Sunset?” I say, to the girl doubled over coughing. Getting in character can be such a drag.
She turns around and stares, and her baggy eyes and cloth facemask tell the story. “Gracious!” I say, teetering after her as she trudges to a nearby trash can. “Catching a cold?”
Sunset pulls down her mask and spits out a mouthful of phlegm. “Getting over one.” She clears her throat. “Why'd you think I've been out all week?”
“Saving the world, maybe?” I say, smiling with just the right amount of awkwardness. You'd think it's harder to fool people who know your disguise, but in fact lying is so easy to people who think they're your friends. They're so forgiving.
I continue with a similarly banal, “I'm glad you're on the mend in time for this, at least.” I flap a palm at the proceedings around us: sheets hanging from every wall, purple spotlights beneath them, a runway jutting from the stage, and a sea of tables and chairs. “Are you here to help out?” I ask, but accidentally drop a roll of ribbon off my pile. An actual accident, but if it gets her closer....
She picks up the ribbon and puts it back without getting close. I conceal my disappointment. “Want me to give you the tour?” I ask, then infect my tone with a gentle jibe as I add, “Unless you'd prefer staring out a window all afternoon.”
“Don't you have your hands full getting ready?” She snorts. “Pun intended.”
I wink, then stride to a nearby table—one which happens to have Pinkie Pie behind it. She's sorting yet more supplies, probably nothing important, so I lean in and dump my stuff on top. “You know what to do with these, right?” I say.
She glances up in surprise, and I reach forward and tap her nose in what looks like a friendly way. In that moment, fire runs from my fingertip throughout my body, her magic molten in my veins. I can't help but wonder, does she realize what I've done?
The moment passes, and I pull back. She blinks a few times, then gives a snappy salute and says, “I have no idea!” in the chipper tone which I understand is her default.
“Good enough!” I laugh. She's got no clue. Neither did Rarity. I turn away like Pinkie’s not there, and as far as I'm concerned, the most important part of her isn’t. “Hands free!” I say to the important one, waggling my fingers. “Shall we?”
Sunset laughs, and we walk together. I keep the silence open, and after a few seconds she can't help but fill it. “For the record, I wasn't just 'staring out a window'. I was reminiscing.”
“Oh?”
I lean closer; she sidles away, but keeps talking. “Er. Well, not to sound like a geezer, but when I was a filly, weather didn't just fall out of the sky. We had to make it ourselves! Uphill, both ways,” she adds with a snicker.
Filly. Like a young horse? I squint, making sure to lag behind so she doesn't see my confusion... and did she say 'make the weather ourselves'? She continues, “I remember working on freezing the lakes near Canterlot back in Equestria, every night before the solstice with the other unicorns.”
“Why, that sounds lovely!” My words are pure filler. Equestria—unicorn—what.
“I hated it.”
Thankfully, these words would precipitate an awkward silence on their own.
I’d assume she were kidding if I weren’t, for instance, in possession of another girl’s appearance and powers. There's somewhere called Equestria, and it has more magic. Talking horses live there, and this girl is one of them. Maybe all the girls are?
There's a lot more magic than just me.
“It's funny what you get nostalgic for,” she says, as I force myself to finish processing and take action. “I guess seeing you all 'setting up winter' in here kind of—”
“Ooh, what's this over here?” I grab her hand and pull her behind me as I walk toward some tacky tree with fake snow. Easy. Her power is—
Where's her heat? I stop after a few steps and hold up her hand, seeing a latex glove I hadn't noticed before. “Thorough, aren't we?” I say, squinting at it before looking up at her.
Her mask moves in a way that indicates a smile. “I'm mostly not sick,” she says, tugging her hand away, “but I—” She sneezes half a dozen times in a row, demonstrating her point. “Not taking any chances,” she finishes with a miserable sniff. “Besides, my magic's on the fritz, you don't wanna touch me.”
Learning about her power is a fair consolation prize... if I accepted consolation prizes. “How 'on the fritz'?” I ask.
“Rainbow Dash noogied me earlier.” She shivers. “I think I witnessed her birth.”
I whistle low. “That's pretty on the fritz.”
“Stop saying 'on the fritz' while it still sounds like words.”
“Sorry.”
Mind reader. She touches people, like I do, but what she gets from them is their thoughts, or memories, or something? She was kinda vague, but that sounds like exactly the skill any impersonator needs.
She coughs a few times, and I chime in, “Do you ever....” But I bite my lip, and twirl my purple hair in front of my face in habit. This question could raise questions if I get it wrong. Sunset is motioning for me to continue, though, so I say, “Do you ever miss it? Being in your magical land, having awesome powers rather than....” I wince. “Tactile privacy invasion?”
“Well, when you put it like that.” She sniffs with, hopefully, amusement. “Yeah and no, I guess. Everyone misses some stuff from their foalhood—childhood, right?”
“No,” I hiss before I can stop myself.
She stares at me, but shrugs it off. Forgiving. “Well, uh, I definitely miss some stuff, and I used to miss the powers, when I was bad. But not anymore.” She shivers. “I mean, powers don't really change who I am, right—”
The shivers become spasms, and she's doubled over coughing once more, cutting herself off. I approach her, the friend offering help, but she waves me away and wheezes, “I'm fine.”
“Fine is an... interesting word for what you are.” A flash of insight strikes me. “Perhaps you should visit the nurse,” I say, not letting myself smile.
Sunset wipes her hidden nostril. “You're right,” she concedes, slowly straightening. “I can't really help out when I'm a walking biohazard. See you later, Rares.”
Ugh, petnames. I wink. “Oh, you can count on it!”
She squints, but then shrugs and trudges past the pink one on the way out.
I wait until I'm out of her line of sight, then make an unhurried exit from the gymnasium. Time for a career change.
Fortunately, I reach the nurse's office before Sunset, tell the nurse—Redheart, the desk says—that she's needed in the gymnasium, and clasp her hands without her thinking much of it.
Unfortunately, Sunset Shimmer has clearly been to a nurse more recently than I have.
She squints as I approach with a stethoscope. “Should you—achoo!” She raises her arm needlessly. “Shouldn't you have gloves on?”
I curse in my head, and laugh nervously outside it. “Oh, of course! What was I thinking, of course nurses wear gloves.” I glance around at a sea of cabinets. Where does she keep anything?
“Second cabinet on the left, middle shelf.” Sunset doesn't even look up, and here I am pulling at my hair in frustration. “Nurse, are you okay?”
“Oh, don't worry about old Miss Redheart. Winter's coming up soon, students getting sick, I'm just busy is all.” Hysteria enters my voice as I roll on a pair of gloves, but not too far. This is ridiculous—after all the time I've spent in an ICU? She'll get suspicious.
She'll get suspicious and try to read my mind.
“Now, breathe in deep,” I say, squishing the stethoscope into her chest.
“That's my boob.”
It sure is. She blushes, and I stammer as if embarrassed. “Sorry!” I say, moving the diaphragm up.
“Here, let me—”
She peers at my hand, and then surreptitiously pulls up her own glove. As she places her hand on mine to adjust my placement, our wrists barely touch.
Oh, dear. The fire floods my body, and it feels like laughter. Looks like she's outwitted me.
She's quiet now, and follows along as I tell her to breathe a few more times. “Well!” I finally say, standing up. “I'd say you sound all right, Miss Shimmer.”
She's still looking down, quiet. Maybe she's surprised she felt nothing? Doubtless, I stole the power from her before she could use it. “But if you want,” I say, wondering where to find a nurse's note in this unlabeled hellhole, “I can let you take the rest of the day off.”
“Kinky,” she breathes.
I freeze. That was not an expected response. “I... didn't catch that,” I lie.
“Oh, just....” Sunset waves an arm vaguely around the office. Though her movements aren't energetic, there's a twinkle in her eye like she's getting a joke. “This whole setup you've got. Kinky nurse roleplay. I'm kinda confused, but kinda into it.”
There's no good response here, so I stammer, “That's not something you say to an older woman, Sunset!”
“Oh, but you're not an older woman.”
Sunset stands and pulls down her facemask, enough to reveal a grin. “You're not even Nurse Redheart, isn't that right?” She licks her lips, leaving a pregnant pause, and then she says, “Chrysalis.”
I suppress a gasp: how much did she see? What does she know now—what don’t I know? There's a tremor in my knees, and for a moment I'm almost....
No. She's powerless, and I'm the queen. Time to act like it.
I relax, and match her smile with a devilish one of mine. “Quite a nice power you've got there, Sunset Shimmer. Even if it is... 'on the fritz'.”
She's looking me in the eye, standing up straighter. “You've got Equestrian magic,” she says. “You can shapeshift into anyone as long as you've touched them. So, where's the real Redheart?” Then she gasps, and her eyes narrow. “Where's Rarity?”
Ah, she got the joke. And she hasn’t seen all of my head; otherwise, she'd know that I just bumped Rarity’s shoulder by 'mistake' in the hallway, barely touching her hand with mine.
She didn't get enough out of her glimpse, and she won’t get another—and it's time to show her. “You tell me?” I say, deliberately peeling a glove off Redheart's white hand, offering it forward. “Read my mind.”
Sunset growls, and she grabs my hand in a tight grip, but it slackens as her eyes widen with confusion. She lets go, then grabs again, several times—hasn't she heard about the definition of insanity?
I decide to speed up the process.
A burst of green flame appears at my fingertip, and Sunset lets go with a yelp. The fire becomes a green ring that winds around my hand, and drags up my arm, surrounding and changing me like a… well, let's just say my name is self chosen, and quite descriptive.
I smile with pleasure as it reaches my face: who’d ever believe fire once frightened me? More pleasurable, however, is the shock in Sunset's eyes as she stares at a perfect copy of herself.
No, a superior copy. I reach out like lightning and snatch her wrist.
Burning heat fills my body, but not like my fire: this one’s red, angry, and determined. Thoughts are buzzing in my head, and not all of them are mine.
How did she find out about us?
Why can't I read her mind?
Where's Rarity? Where's Nurse Redheart? Are they okay?
And finally, loudest of all: How do I stop her?
“That's right,” I say, as she takes a frightened step back, her eyes wide. “Your good looks aren't the only thing I take when I touch you.”
I release her and hold up my palm, and those beautiful diamonds of Rarity's shimmer into existence. Larger and larger, until they're the size of a shield. You can do a lot of damage with a shield.
Sunset's just frozen—she doesn't try to dodge as my hand clenches into a fist, and the diamond fires into her. She's thrown against the wall, and collapses in an unconscious heap.
I laugh, standing over her, and point my palm at her head. Rarity's diamonds appear again....
No. If I've heard right, these friends always respond together to crises. Undoubtedly the first thing Sunset will do when she wakes up is assemble the seven of them, including the four I haven't touched yet.
She's useful, not a threat. I wave my hand to dispel the diamonds, then turn on the ball of my foot and walk out with another laugh.
Who could feel threatened by Sunset Shimmer?
Pinkie Pie reaches into her hair and pulls out a handful of sprinkles. She tosses them onto the table and yells, “Kapow!”
I'm sitting across the table from her, and I lean in with interest and confusion. She can make sprinkles explode? She could before, at least. “Kablammo!” she declares, jabbing a finger at the mess of sprinkles. “Bite the dust? Pop goes the weasel? Explode, dangit!”
They don’t react. I try not to react as her hair deflates, and her face smushes onto the table.
“Sorry, Pinkie,” Sunset says, resting a gloved hand on her shoulder. “It happened in the gym—she got your nose.”
“Is she gonna give it back?”
“Let's hope so.”
Sunset Shimmer tried so hard, bless her heart. She called all her friends via group text to this storage room—cluttered with instruments, but also featuring a round table with chairs for everyone. She was at the door when I showed up, and grilled me on my identity, asking questions only the real Rainbow Dash could answer.
Except the real Rainbow Dash was rude to me before. So she's locked downstairs, and I've read enough of her mind that Sunset's questions weren't any trouble. Honestly, Sunset was the one I got this power from: she should have known better.
Credit where credit was due, however: once I'd 'proved' myself, Sunset gave me a facemask and gloves, no doubt pilfered from the nurse's office. “For protection against the shapeshifter. I'll explain later.” I couldn't exactly refuse them, but now everyone’s wearing them. Congratulations, Shimmer—you've made my life harder.
She briefly explained how powerful I am and how much danger they're in, then had everyone demonstrate their powers, to see who I've gotten to. Applejack, Fluttershy, and Twilight still have their powers, and were nice enough to show me how they work. As far as they know, so does Rainbow Dash.
Sunset looks away from Pinkie and to all of us in turn. Now, fearless leader, let's see your big plan to stop the evil queen. Her facemask flexes, her mouth opens—
What's that beeping sound? I glare at the purple one, Twilight Sparkle, as she fiddles with some techno-locket-thing. It has two dozen facets and all of them are lighting up like crazy, and it just started blaring an alert. “Sorry, sorry!” she says, pressing something that silences the device. “This thing's useless when we're all together.”
As she pulls out a screwdriver, I decide to say something stereotypical. Just to really get into my role. “Man,” I say, resting my feet on the table and watching Sunset's eyes between them, “just when things were getting boring around here, it's monster fighting time! This is great!”
“Um.” Fluttershy, to my right side, raises her hand. There's a bird on it, with whom she's been conversing for several minutes. “Um, she's just got Equestrian magic,” she says. “It seems kind of rude to call her a monster.”
“Eh, same difference.” I throw a few punches to the sky. “So here's the gameplan. Just wait 'til all hope seems lost, then boom! Give her a taste of the ol' friendship bazooka.” That's what Dash's mind said, right? Friendship always wins. Pfft.
“If we even can.” Sunset presses her face into her hand as she rests her elbow on the table. “She stole our magic. We might be able to get it back, but we shouldn't count on it.” She sighs, then coughs. “First of all, we need to understand why Chrysalis is stealing our powers.”
I look at her like she's an idiot. “Uh? Because they're awesome? Seriously, as soon as there's an Olympics I'm eligible for, I swear I'm breaking all the speed records.”
“Rainbow Dash,” Applejack chides on my left. “That's not exactly playing fair.”
“Who needs fair when you're a superhero? Come on, you could do shotput or weightlifting or something.”
I glance at her in annoyance: if I'd had more time to master Dash's speed, I could snatch the powers of this whole group in a blink. As it stands, if I make one wrong move I'm within Applejack's range, and she just tossed a piano in her hand like a baseball. She'd squash me like a bug. So I sit and wait for my chance.
Rarity knocks on the table. “Ahem? While it's a nice idea to suppose Chrysalis only wants to show off, I think we have to consider that she's probably after the portal.”
Twilight's screwdriver clatters onto the table; her eyes widen with horror. “The portal?” I ask before I can stop myself: this wasn’t in the rumors.
“The portal to Equestria? The portal to the world full of magic to steal, guarded by nothing more than that horse statue?” Twilight's voice rises in pitch and hysteria, and her hands shake. “The portal that every power-mad teenager keeps making a beeline for? Of course that's what she's after! She'll be unstoppable!”
It's all I can do to avoid bursting out laughing. I wasn't after it before, but after Twilight’s wonderful information dump, I sure am now. A world full of magic... and the statue she's talking about is just outside. “Oh,” I say in my best deadpan, “that portal.” I look at Sunset. “We might have a problem here.”
Twilight hyperventilates with her head in her hands, and several music stands behind her float toward the ceiling. “Deep breaths, Twilight,” Sunset says, rubbing her shoulder in a calming way. Within a few seconds, the stands clatter to the floor.
Sunset sneezes, and she glances at me. Then she stands up and grabs her chair.
“So, what do we do?” Applejack says. “If we can't use magic, then we gotta... what, call up the Princess? Find Chrysalis and beat the tar outta her?” She clenches her fist and flexes, making her bulging bicep visible under her light jacket. “Or do we have a better idea?”
“That's pretty harsh,” Fluttershy whispers.
“So's stealing Sunset's powers and knocking her out cold!” Applejack pounds the table. “What's your better plan?”
Fluttershy taps her fingers together. “We could... ask her why she wants to steal everyone's magic.”
Applejack snorts. So do I. What kind of stupid question is that? Obviously it's because—
“Because she's unhappy.”
Sunset Shimmer is behind me and to my right. “Scooch over,” she says, and Fluttershy and I move over to make room for her chair and herself. “I don't wanna 'beat the tar outta her', Applejack,” she sighs, “I wanna help her. But....” She glances at Fluttershy. “Trust me, I don't really need to ask why she's doing this.”
I stare at her. “Really? Didn't you just say she's the our-world version of a horrible bug monster? And she's trying to use stolen magic to take over the world? Why would you wanna help her?”
Sunset frowns, or at least her mask looks like one. “You just answered your own question.”
My expression doesn't change, even if the brain behind it is bewildered. What the hell kind of answer is that? Where's her fury from before? Is this the sort of drivel that she feeds to her subordinates, without telling them the truth—
Why is she winking? Why is she lifting her index finger, and why is there a rip in her glove that she's only letting me see?
She takes my hand in one of hers, or at least that's what it looks like. In fact, she’s really extending her pointer finger and touching my bare wrist beneath Rainbow Dash's coat.
I know it's you.
I start—did she just say that out loud, or... no, she said it into my head. Or rather, into her head, where I heard it with my new powers.
Please, don't run. Just listen.
I'm so preoccupied with how I'm hearing her, I almost have no time for what she's saying. She knows it's me? How?
“When she touched me to steal my powers, I got to see inside her head for a moment,” Sunset says, ostensibly to the group. “I saw... well, a bunch. I saw how she got this power, what she was like before it and after. She's not happy.”
I want to help you. I know where you're coming from, and I promise you—all this? Hurting people, lording yourself over them? It doesn't help.
“What do you know?” I say, forgetting myself—that is, remembering myself and forgetting my guise.
She just looks at me, in this indefinable way. It's pity, isn't it? Patronizing pity, worse than any outright insult. But her powers feel like a warm fireplace, like she's just trying to help: are they broken?
“I know what it's like to try to fill holes in yourself by tearing pieces out of other people,” she says. No pretense now: she's only looking at me.
“You don't know anything about me!” I yank my hand away and the warmth disappears as I bolt upright, yelling, pulling rainbow hair instinctively in front of my face. “How could you know, you powerless little speck?”
Seconds pass before I see everyone’s eyes on me, and hear the echoes of my shouted words. I throw on the smirk, even if my heart's not quite in it. “Oh, I meant 'rainbows rainbows rainbows, awesome, sports, radical'. Is that in-character enough?”
Sunset hasn't reacted to being called a speck, unless you call her continued sad look a reaction. Applejack, on the other hand, isn't mincing words. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy her winding her fist back.
I duck her punch at super-speed, and I have my opening. I rip off a glove and leap forward, striking my palm into Applejack's forehead. She gasps—can’t believe she got me, that little bug, she thinks—and I gasp too, for this fire is strong. I can punch through concrete now. I can punch through people.
Why isn't she scared?
I zip forward, tapping Fluttershy before she can react—I hope Rainbow Dash is okay, what happened to her?—who knows if talking to animals will ever be helpful, but I’d rather be thorough. Then I tear off my mask so that Twilight Sparkle sees my grin, as evil as I can make it: I want her to know she's the only one left, and what that means.
I pounce.
She screams and throws her hands out, and I'm floating, surrounded by a purple aura. I move my legs as fast as they'll go, which is faster than I can see, and put as much of Applejack's strength into each movement as I can. All I'm kicking is air, and my strength and speed are useless.
Twilight's arms thrust at me, and I'm thrown back at the wall. It cracks when I strike it. I don't let the pain show, except by grinning. It's time to get out. “The real Dash is in the basement. Better find her!”
Why isn't Sunset scared of me? I'm stronger than I've ever been, stronger than when I beat her. Why does she just look sad?
I leap forward, vaulting the table. Rarity tackles Twilight out of the way, and I catch a handful of sprinkles as I pass over the table, and I toss them at the wall ahead of me. Pop goes the weasel.
The wall explodes, and I fly through unimpeded. I hit the ground running, feeling falling snow sting against me as I collide with it at superspeed. I have to squint to keep it out of my eyes.
Why can I still feel her eyes drilling into me?
No one really remembers what CK High once stood for: probably some general or politician who had those initials.
Now, though, CK stands for “Chrysalis's Kingdom”.
I'm in my favorite form, and I throw open the double doors leading to the gym, sending them off their hinges with magical strength. “Hey, uglies!”
The football team stops practice and looks at me with the usual amount of fear and respect, which are only amplified when they see what I did to the doors.
“Your queen needs a little private practice. Go find somewhere else to chuck that thing!”
They sidle past me, giving me a wide berth. I smile.
It's out of reflex.
“Mr. Racks!” I call out, as the coach makes to follow them: he freezes. “You stay. I need the heaviest weights you've got.”
I snap my fingers, and he scurries to the weight room. I busy myself by doing laps around the gym. The perimeter's about a sixteenth of a mile, and I find I can do each leg in about a second, leaving a rainbow trail behind me: that’s roughly sixty miles an hour. I'd be much faster if I were moving in a straight line.
Mr. Racks is back, pushing a cart piled with fifty pound circular weights and sweating from the effort. None of the jocks would put more than four, maybe five of these on a bar at once.
I zip over to the cart, fast enough that the wind blows back his hair, and pick up a weight in one hand like it's an oversized plate. I toss it a few times, feeling Applejack's strength, and grin. Then I fling it like a frisbee. It smashes into the far wall and sticks there.
Mr. Racks winces. “How are you....”
“It's all thanks to my field trip.” I wink at him. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“Er, of course, my queen. It's just—” He cowers, hands coming over his head, as I fling another weight, which sticks in the wall just under the first. “Could you... please not destroy the weights? And walls? They'll be hard to repair.”
I slowly turn to face him, letting him marinate in his wrongness. “Are you ordering me, Mr. Racks?” I lean in, almost seductive. “You teachers lost the right to do that when you sent those horrible photos of yourselves to a poor teenage girl.”
He turns red, as usual when I have to remind him who's in charge. “I didn't,” he sputters, “I'd never—”
I just laugh. “Go ahead, tell the courts it was a shapeshifter. They'll totally believe you.”
His lips quiver impotently. That's a nice word: impotent. Best defined as “of or referring to anyone except Chrysalis”.
I pat his shoulder affectionately. “Don’t look so glum, now. There’s going to be a school-wide field trip before too long, organized by yours truly. To a land full of magic and impossibility. Won’t that be fun?”
“Will that take long?” Mr. Racks is looking at my shoes. “I, er, have to do some dog sitting next week….”
I chuckle, and stroll to the cart. “You’re always so funny.” I toss another weight, but this time I run to the other side of the gym and catch it before it hits the wall. I look into Mr. Racks's eyes across the room—
His eyes are sad. I drop the weight with a crash, and he looks down, and the moment is gone. “What?” I yell, dashing into his face in an instant, and he flinches away. “What's that look?”
“What look?” He won't meet my eyes.
I slap him. He takes it. “Don't pity me,” I hiss, and turn away, rubbing my cheek as it stings for some reason. I'm Chrysalis, I'm the queen, and I'm at the top.
I'm young. I'm shorter than I wish I was, and I need to grow my hair long to hide what used to be my face.
My fist is clenching.
“Leave him—leave him alone!” I yell, standing between a sad-looking boy and a couple of the popular girls, outside the front door of the school. You can tell they're popular because no one likes them.
They sneer at me. “Fine, if it matters so much to you, Crispy.” That's not my name, I want to yell, but at this point it kind of is.
They walk away. I turn around to the boy behind me, and grin. “Good thing you had me to help you! Otherwise—”
“They were just teasing me!” he yells into my face. “And now you've made it worse! No one wants you to help us, Crispy!”
I flinch, and double over.
I flinch, and double over. That's the difference between me and them, isn't it? No one likes them, but at least they're needed.
As the boy hurries away, I hear a sound unlike one I've heard before. Like a firework, but with more rushing, like a moon rocket.
I sprint forward, starting with my hands and feet on the ground, to where I dropped that weight.
I look up and see a spiraling green light, zipping through the air. It randomly veers—
I grab the weight, and scream, and throw.
The light strikes me through my heart.
The weight shatters against the wall. Shrapnel flecks my cheek.
I take deep breaths, straightening slowly. Crispy is dead. Chrysalis is here, and powerful, and needed, and Sunset Shimmer and everyone else who thinks otherwise is nothing. Sunset Shimmer is—
A voice comes over the intercom. “Miss Chrysalis?” says the person at the front desk. “Paging Miss Chrysalis? There's someone here to see you... she's got red-yellow hair and a cloth mask. Says she knows you.”
I stomp on one of the weight’s fragments, shattering it further. Then I zip to the intercom system in the corner and press the button. “Obviously don't let her in. Must I spell this out for you?”
“I was going to do that, Miss, but then she... grabbed my arm and told me my husband would be disappointed in me. And then kept walking. She's coming up now.”
The retort stalls in my throat. She can't have—I took that from her—what? I stab at the button again. “Tell whoever's around to find Sunset Shimmer and drag her up here. Now.”
But I hear footsteps and a sneeze. It's too late.
I stand at a distance from the door, trying to look away without concern, yet I glance over my shoulder as she approaches. Despite her obvious sickness, her strides are confident as mine, like she owns the joint.
“I'm impressed by what you've done with all this,” she says cheerfully. “Really made it your own.”
See, this is why I wanted someone to drag her. This just makes her look cool.
I look away. “How have your powers returned?' I ask, though it's more a statement.
She laughs. “Wow, skipping right to hero-villain banter? Okay. I think my line is, 'You'll never get away with this'.”
She's said it so melodramatically that I can't help but snort in return.
“No, really,” she continues. “Twilight's locket? It detects magic, and you've got the most around. She'll pick you up if you get within a mile of the portal, and you can't beat her telekinesis.” She shrugs. “Sorry to bring business into this. Who was she?”
She gestures at me, and it takes a moment to determine her meaning. “No one important,” I say, cocking my hip. I’ve got bright green tresses that reach down by my waist, and an hourglass figure to kill for. “She was mean, but pretty. Now she's gone, and I'm her.”
“There's a metaphor here that's probably not worth pointing out, is it.” Her brow furrows. “When you say 'she's gone'—”
Oh. She thinks I actually killed for this hourglass figure. “What? No, she transferred!”
Sunset sighs in relief. It occurs to me that I'm not leading the conversation. “I answered your question. How have your powers returned?”
“You want the answer? You're gonna be disappointed.”
She steps forward, and so do I, circling her as she stands still. “I rarely am.”
“Oh, I don't know....” She tilts her head, amused. That's my line—er, expression. She's the one trying to scare me, and this is ridiculous.
I lift the cart holding the remaining weights in one hand, just to make a point. “I could punch a hole in you. I could crush you with one of Rarity's diamonds, or blow you to bits courtesy of your pink friend, or....”
She's sniggering, and I peter out. “Don't mind me,” she says, “I just wanna hear what you come up with for Fluttershy.”
I scowl and drop the cart. “You are in incalculable danger. So you'll tell me what I want to know.”
“Or, you tell me.” She peels off a glove, just like I did in the nurse's office—am I being mocked? “Read my mind.”
She walks toward me, bare palm outstretched, and—damn me, but I flinch. Somewhere in the back of my head, the definition of “impotent” is being rewritten to admit one more exception. “What do you want?” I mutter.
“Just to have a conversation.” She passes me, and starts walking backward just to keep facing me. Like it or not, she has the answer I want, so I follow her. “Seems like you don’t get many of those—looks more like you talk to people’s faces and they reply to your shoes. It gets lonely after a while.”
“And you’d know, would you?”
She glances off to the side, a nonverbal, “Well, yeah.”
We reach the bleachers, and she tries to pull out the bottom step: I sigh, and yank it out myself. “Thanks,” she says as she sits.
I grunt in reply, and sit at a remove from her. “Snakes,” I say. “I could use Fluttershy’s power to command snakes to poison you.”
“Fluttershy doesn’t actually command animals, she just talks to them.”
“Really?”
She nods.
“That’s fine. I’d just intimidate the snakes myself.”
“Mm, you’re pretty good at that. I mean, I’d be dead, so you wouldn’t know how I had the power again, but good idea otherwise.”
I stare at her. Why doesn’t that sound like an insult, or a condemnation? Damn that mask: even with the ability to read her mind, I can’t get a grasp on Sunset Shimmer. “What do you know about intimidation?”
“Wanna see?” She slides her hand closer on the bleacher, and I yank mine away. “It’s okay,” she says. “I promise not to look.”
I squint. “Why would you honor a promise like that?”
“You’d be hurt if I didn’t.”
My teeth are clenched. “You’re patronizing me again. Are we done conversing yet?”
“Nope, and I promise I’m not. Come on.” She wiggles her fingers. “Take a chance. Or I could, like, explain it, but this is faster.”
I growl, but reach out and grab her hand.
Thrown out of paradise. Denied my birthright. I deserve to rule!
I see… what looks like a mirror, but instead of my green tresses, I see a mane of red and yellow hair. And it is a mane, because it’s attached to a yellow unicorn, her face screwed up in anger that doesn’t match the anguish inside. I bury it and step forward, and the mirror ripples like water as I walk through.
I glance up and see a horse statue, and then glance down and see hands.
Taking over. If I can’t rule there, I can at least rule here.
I see flashes: an email here, a text there, a carefully placed rumor. As empty triumph courses through my body, I see five former friends driven apart. I recognize them as Sunset’s friends.
Wait, what?
Doubtlessly Sunset has more to show me, but I pull my hand away anyway, and the visions vanish. “They befriended you? After you took over your school and made them hate each other? Ridiculous.”
“Friendship is pretty ridiculous, as a rule.” She wiggles her fingers, inviting me to learn more, but I stand up instead, pacing in front of the bleachers. She shrugs. “All right, but you see where I’m coming from, at least. I know a thing or two about being a bad girl, taking over a school, and being overloaded with magical power.”
When I frown, she adds, “Oh, did you not get to that last part?”
“And you really didn’t read me?”
“Scout’s honor. Whatever that means.”
I laugh. “Foolish. By now I’ve taken your power again.”
“Ooh, mean. It’ll probably be back in twenty minutes, though, so no biggie.”
“Maybe I’ll keep you here and take them every twenty minutes!”
She whistles. “You keep coming up with kinky ideas.”
“Don’t test me if you don’t want to see more,” I say, less because I want to and more because the momentum of the conversation is headed that way. I blush, but keep eye contact.
She’s the one who breaks it, turning away and laughing uproariously. “I missed this!” she says, once she’s calmed down a bit. “I haven’t been adversarial with someone in forever, this is great. All right, this counts as a conversation. I’ll tell you what you want to know. Or….” She winks. “I already told you.”
“What?”
“When I said ‘you want the answer?’ and you said you did, and then I said ‘I don’t know’. That was the answer. I literally do not know.”
I stare at her, feeling a rising urge to crush something.
“Seriously, the one rule of magic here is there are no rules. Maybe you can’t steal my magic because I’m not from here; maybe it’s because it’s not a physical power like the others; maybe it’s because I’ve got a cold! I don’t know.”
“Then what was the point of wasting my time?” I hiss, leaning over her.
“Wasting?” She shakes her head. “Time shared with someone you like talking to isn’t wasted.”
I punch through the bleacher next to her, and she flinches away. Finally. “We are not friends,” I say. She stares me back in the face, but the fear—a physical reaction rather than a genuine emotion—is already fading.
Shared. I feel something else coursing through me: Sunset hasn’t given me power, but she’s given me an idea on how to use it. “You have power,” I say, “power that I took for myself. Which means power can be shared, isn’t that right?”
“Er, I didn’t say that.”
Her eyes widen like she’s told me too much. Like she’s afraid. I win.
I spy the intercom on the opposite wall, and dash to it. “Would the football team please escort Sunset Shimmer from the gym to outside the building? Roughly. Chop chop! Oh, and could Mr. Racks please come up here, I don’t care if you’ve gotten what I was looking for.”
“What do you mean,” she says, jogging back to me and coughing with the exertion. “What do you mean, shared?”
“If power can be taken,” I say, turning to face her with confidence, “then it can be shared. It can be forced. It will be. Or, to put it another way… remember when you said I’m never getting away with this, because of Twilight’s locket?”
I lean in and tap her between the eyes, just long enough to taste her uncertainty. “I’m getting away with this, Sunset.”
The football players arrive, and so does Mr. Racks, holding a cupcake. “Take her away, boys,” I say, flapping a dismissive hand at Sunset Shimmer. “And don’t let her come back in.”
She doesn’t resist as they grab her arms. She just looks at me, determination in her eyes. “It’s not making you happy,” she says quietly as they drag her backward.
I laugh. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Now I beckon Mr. Racks forward. “Drop the cupcake,” I say, and he sets it on the floor. I almost wish Sunset didn’t have to leave: it would be nice if she could see this.
I focus on my power, distinct from all the others I’ve collected, and concentrate it in my palm. “Raise your hand,” I command. He does so. I focus on forcing the power out, giving him my appearance and enough of my power to fool a locket, and grab him.
Pain. Burning pain.
I gasp through clenched teeth. I’m looking at Mr. Racks, but he’s looking at me, and I’m looking through him. Sunset’s power. Why can’t I turn it off?
I’m trapped in the fire.
As the green fire races up his arm and transforms his body, he clenches harder on reflex, and I can’t pull away. I see my grimace through his eyes, and it looks like a grin. Like I’m enjoying his pain.
Let me out!
He’s screaming in my head. I want to scream back that I’m not enjoying this, I’m really not, but I can’t. I can just breathe quick and harsh breaths that match his own, as the fire reaches his face. Her face. My face.
Fire’s covering my face—I hate her, I wish she was gone.
He finally releases me, and I stare at a copy of myself, except lacking any sense of composure. He—she?—collapses to the floor, breathing hard.
Mr. Racks’s fear is still in my body, a stink that won’t scrub out, but there’s something else there. It feels familiar, and I catch the word after a sinking moment: contempt.
“What did you do to me?” he gasps with my voice, staring up with what I wish was only fear. I echo the sentiment inside my head.
They can’t all feel that way, right?
I stumble down the hallway, and my subjects are thin on the ground.
“Good afternoon, Queen!” says the football star by his locker. “Are you okay?” I walk in his direction, and grab his hand—
Chrysalis isn’t looking great, is she? Good. Who do you think you are, walking around like you own the place?
I pull back. The shy, formerly popular girl waves to me on the other side of the hallway, her hand barely moving. Instead of waving back, I grip her hand in mine—
Why does she have to look like that? It’s a nightmare, getting bullied by someone who looks like your friend, why can’t she just disappear?
My pace is sluggish, frozen by their contempt. It hasn’t changed in a year.
I thought I could do better.
The nerdy kid with the paper looks up from his locker, and then starts walking hurriedly away. “Look at me!” I yell, and lunge for his wrist, forcing my magic inside him.
Oh, God, what is she doing to me? He screams in his head as the magic changes him. I pull it back out before it gets past his arm, and he’s back to his original form, just in time to yank his wrist from my grasp and run headlong in the opposite direction.
I stumble toward his locker, which is still open and has several copies of the paper inside it. The gala photo’s visible on the top paper, and Sunset’s visible in it. I whip one out and crumple it into a ball.
I can’t turn her power off. Even if I could, it’s too late now, after what I’ve already seen. I turn around, throwing the paper away, and see all remaining eyes in the hallway fixed on me.
As soon as they see me looking, their gazes hit either my shoes or their own. “Get out!” I yell, and they hurriedly obey without looking up. I can talk at them, never to them.
I need to talk to someone.
There’s not many candidates.
The snow falls like it has intent, like it means to smother everyone beneath it. Night’s fallen for over an hour, and you’d have to be crazy to be outside in this weather.
Considering where I am, this thought doesn’t reflect well on me, but in fairness it doesn’t reflect well on any of them either. Sunset Shimmer’s posse surrounds the statue, theoretically alert for any sign of wrongdoing or… me. But it’s been hours since I revealed myself to them, and they must have been guarding it the whole time in the snow.
I approach from the school entrance, as befits my disguise.
At first they’re only vague splotches of color, but the closer I get, the more individuals I can pick out. Twilight Sparkle sits atop the plinth, the statue shielding her from the snow but not the cold. She’s bundled in blankets and asleep. Her locket’s going off, warning her about my presence. but she doesn’t wake up.
A few strands of rainbow hair are visible around one side of the plinth, with a straw-blonde ponytail coloring the other side. Off in a corner, Fluttershy is handing out mugs of hot chocolate to Pinkie and Rarity, who shiveringly accept. Everyone’s bundled up, but not quite enough.
Sunset leans against the side, at a remove from everyone else. She glances up as I approach.
“You girls really shouldn’t stay out here so late,” I say with Principal Celestia’s voice. “Don’t you think you should….”
Sunset continues to stare at me, her expression unreadable under that mask. Tugging at my hair, I start again, “Don’t you think you should….”
She stares. I give up. “How did you know?”
She motions with her head to another statue in the courtyard, this one a horseshoe with a big C in it, now covered in so much white I’m surprised it doesn’t sag. Sunset starts walking toward it before I do.
I eye the plinth. This is where the portal is, isn’t it? Can’t I just run through, and….
No. That’s not winning. I follow behind Sunset, taking slow steps with Celestia’s long legs.
“Good to see you again,” she says. There’s not much emotion in the words, but it is freezing.
“They’re all here,” I say, pointing at the group. “All guarding against me. Because you ordered them?”
“Because I asked. Asking’s nicer. And it’s important.” She coughs. So do I, actually. It’s freezing, and I’m glad Celestia’s got long hair.
“Why would they listen? After what you did….”
“It wasn’t easy. It took a lot of work, and a lot of time. But I guess the main thing is… I learned empathy. I found out there was another way. I literally didn’t even know it before.”
“Ah.”
“What’s up?”
I look away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t have to.”
She raises her hand, and her palm is bare. Her other hand has an actual glove on it, not a medical one, but this one has exposed skin. She was expecting me.
It’s infuriating. But that’s been my day in a nutshell, so I sigh, and I grit my teeth, and I ease one of my gloves off. The cold bites without hesitation, making me wince, and I almost fancy that that’s the only reason I’m dawdling.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she says. I wonder if she knows that these are the exact words that make me snatch her hand in my grasp.
It’s warm on my hand and in my head. Yeah, she thinks, I knew you couldn’t resist.
I chuckle, half with resignation. Then she closes her eyes, and I feel her concentrate. With a sigh I lean back and relax my mind. Might as well make it easy for her.
“Ah.” Sunset opens her eyes. “I see why that would be a problem.”
She sounds like a cold reader, and not just because of the temperature. “You do, do you?” I say, keeping myself from offering more.
“Once upon a time, you didn’t have any power. You were alone, and they didn’t like you. And now you have power, and you’re starting to figure out nothing really changed.” She raises her eyebrows. “Empathy, huh?”
As I clench her hand in mine, I can’t help but wish she felt meaner about it. “It was about making them need me,” I mutter. “Being liked was never on the table.”
“I like you.”
She glances up at me and shrugs, and I look away, incredulous. ‘What?” she says. “You’re fun to be around when you’re not actively hurting people.”
With a roll of my eyes and a frosty chirr of frustration, I release her. The warm feeling in my head fades. “No matter. Everything will change once I’m through that portal.”
“Why?”
I chuckle. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“It’s obvious why you think so. Tell me anyway?”
“It’s a whole world of magic to take for my own. I’ll be more powerful than—”
She shakes her head. “You’re already more powerful than anyone else. Why do you want more?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Miss Mind Reader!” I fire back. “You think you know me so well, just because you got a couple looks in my head?”
“You think you’ll be happier in another world, because this world is making you unhappy.”
I’m staring away from her now. “Oh, of course, that must be it.”
She’s in my peripheral vision anyway, and I watch her hold up her hand. “Tell me if I’m lying.”
I don’t bother to reach out. “I think you’re full of it, not lying. There’s a difference.”
“I tried that trick too, you know. And don’t get me wrong, I was successful. In a way. But….”
She glances up at the sky. “Seasons are funny on this world. They come and go whether you want them to or not: whose idea was that? And winter’s coming tomorrow, and it seems like no one’s ready for that gala thing we’ve got. Would be nice if we could get a delay.”
I squint, and not just because snow is getting in my lashes. “Where are you going with this?”
“Imagine if the Gala got finished like magic tomorrow, just because the season had changed. Imagine if you went to bed tonight in a t-shirt and woke up magically wearing a parka, just because it was cold out.”
She sighs, and frosted breath pushes through her mask. “Imagine going to a new world, a new place, and thinking your problems will just magically stay in the old one. It’s a nice idea, right?”
I stare. I can reach out and touch her, and read her mind like a book. But I’m getting the feeling it’s a book written by someone smarter than I am. I know what the individual words mean, but when they’re all put together, I’m not sure I follow along.
And she’s a book who can read me back.
She slips her hand back into her pocket, and I’m grateful, though I say nothing. “But you didn’t come here to get convinced, right? And if you were here to go through the portal, you’d have done it. So what’s up?”
Not, “Why are you here?”, or anything so accusatory. Just, “What’s up?” I snort, and say, “I came to talk.”
“A conversation.”
“Yes, yes, face to face and not face to shoe—” I violently shiver, despite my best efforts: it’s hard not to when you’re leaning against a freezing lump of metal. “This is ridiculous,” I whisper, and hold one hand out. A green flame appears there, and the snow melts off my glove.
“Ooh, that’s nice.” Sunset slides over against the statue, almost touching me, and then glances up. “Oh, you’re probably touchy about, well, touch….”
I grunt, and slide against her. We’re not actually touching, thanks to her jacket, and it’s stupid to leave her freezing. “Thanks,” she says.
I reply with another grunt. She’s warm. Not as warm as I am, but still nice.
“So,” she says, leaning into me. “What’s up?”
“I’ve got an offer. And a truce, for tonight. But the offer first.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Like I said, I’m getting away with this. There’s nothing you can do to stop me, but… but you don’t have to. You’re different than the others!”
Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, ‘the others’?”
“You have magic. Real magic. And you’d have even more if you came through with me! You could work for me, we could take over Equestria, and we’d be….”
I peter off as the slant of her eyes sinks in, much like the chill around me. “All right,” I say, pulling away from her. “Here’s the truce. I’m not doing it until tomorrow morning. You and your posse get to go home tonight. And in return, can you at least… show up late?”
“Why not tonight?” she asks.
I gesture at the statue. Twilight’s atop it, shivering in her sleep despite the blankets. “Just look at her,” I say. “Look at all of them. They’re exhausted.”
Sunset’s expression softens in some indefinable way: maybe it’s a crinkling around the eyes. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You know I have to show up tomorrow.”
“I know. But….” I look her dead in the eye, grasping her hand with mine. Our gloves touch, not our skin. “I have to do this.”
“Why?”
I ignore her. “And if you, or anyone else, tries to stop me?” I take a deep breath. “I’ll annihilate you. Stand beside me or out of my way, but don’t stand in front of me, Sunset.”
She looks back at me. It’s the old look: sad, determined, all that stuff. But not scared—never, ever scared. Why can’t she be scared when it matters?
I hear a faint voice near the statue. “Hey, is that the locket? It’s beeping!”
I summon up my speed, but before I run I take Sunset by the arm. “You’ve got until tomorrow. Please, just think about it! At least don’t show up!”
“She’s here! Twilight, wake up, you gotta stop her!” Hurried footsteps approach us.
Sunset sighs, looking at my face. “See you tomorrow.”
I turn and run.
The snow becomes a volley of gunfire against my face, and I trip and fall several hundred yards away. It’s out of sight of any of Sunset’s friends, or Sunset herself. I wipe my face, and draw up some fire around my eyes to dry my skin… and there’s still moisture spilling down, freezing on my cheeks, as I duck under an awning.
It’s fine. She could have gone through the portal any time she wanted, if she wanted. Of course I didn’t have anything to offer her.
And yet I’m still crying.
It’s the shortest morning of the year, and my army has arrived.
I didn’t give them all of my magic, and none of the magic I’ve taken. But enough to make them look like me. Enough to confound that locket. It’s a brilliant plan.
It would have been more brilliant if I’d been able to change as many as I’d intended. Damn you, Sunset Shimmer.
We walk together through fresh snow, hips swaying in a dangerous concert, with me somewhere in the back of the crowd so Sunset—so Twilight’s locket doesn’t see me. There’s gasps from the people all around, cries of alarm, and I don’t even chuckle.
I’m hugging myself, I notice. Obviously not because of the cold. I snarl at myself and peer at the statue.
Twilight and Sunset are atop it, and Twilight is either having a panic attack or proving to be a talented actress. She points vaguely into the crowd, not at me. I smile, mimicking those around me, whose stage directions were little more than “be menacing”.
She doesn’t recognize me. Nor do Sunset’s other friends, spaced equally around the portal in hesitant fighting stances. They can’t possibly keep all of us at bay, and then the real one—
Sunset looks at us for a few seconds, leans forward, and then points. Not at the crowd, but at me.
No.
She makes a big gesture at Twilight. A sort of flinging gesture.
No!
I want to scream. I do scream, as Twilight throws her hands out, and Sunset is enveloped in a purple glow that throws her in a parabolic arc, nearly horizontal. She lands atop a trio of my infantry, knocking their wind out as they hit the snow.
“Sorry!” she calls out. Then she steps off them, and makes eye contact with me.
“No!” I grab her by the neck with my gloved hands—no letting her touch me by mistake—and lift her. “You know. You always know. How, how do you always know?”
Her legs are kicking in the air, and what I can see of her face is screwed up, but that’s not fear: that’s just an automatic response. “Unhappy,” she gasps. “You’re the unhappiest one here.” Her hands grab at mine, trying to loosen the fingers. “Touched all of them. Can’t turn it off. All their misery… you felt it.”
The words hurt like a scalpel hurts. I drop her and she hits the ground on her knees. Some of my duplicates approach her, ready to inflict violence if I demand it, but I wave my hand and Rarity’s diamond shield pushes them back. This is between us.
“They hate me,” I snarl. “They wish I was gone. Fine. Nothing I didn’t already know. Now I’m not taking any of them with me when I enter Equestria. Congratulations: everybody wins!”
“Except you,” she says, hacking up a cough as she tries to yank air back in her lungs. “We’ve told the princesses there. You’ll get pretty far, but if you go in that portal, eventually you’ll lose.”
“And what do you know about losing?” I pound a fist against the diamond shield, hard enough to crack it. “Even when you lose, you win! Even when you get taken down, you get a bunch of new friends who love you soooo much! Even when I take your power you get it back, again and again and again! What do you know about being powerless?”
Sunset pulls herself to her feet. Slowly, deliberately, and for the first time, she pulls off her face mask. She drops it in the snow.
I watch her lips move. “I never got my power back.”
The words don’t sink in. Not for a few seconds. In that time, I notice that the shields around us have fizzled out. “What?”
“You took it back in the nurse’s office, and it never returned. Sorry, but I was lying before. I can’t read your mind.”
No. That doesn’t make any sense.
“Read my mind if you don’t believe me.” She reaches out with a gloveless hand and touches my cheek.
My brain floods with emotions I can’t parse right now—the book I can’t read—but one thing is clear above the froth. Sunset’s telling the truth. There’s a surge of memories of Sunset touching the receptionist’s hand, holding my hand last night. She’s seeing nothing but what comes through her eyes.
But that’s impossible. Then how could she—
“Then how did I know how you were feeling? How did you not see this when you were reading my mind before?” she says, as if she can read it right now. “Because I’m a good liar. Because I’m good at knowing how other people feel, even without magic. Because this is who I am.”
She grabs my hand, and her weakness overpowers my strength: I can’t make her let go. “Who are you?” she says.
My jaw is moving, but all that emerges is, “I, I, I… you....”
“What do you want?”
I can’t say any more than what I’m already saying.
“What’s going to make you happy?”
I’m staring right at her, but I can’t put together a coherent response.
Her expression softens like melting ice. “It’s okay,” she says, brushing my hair. “You can start figuring that out now.”
My legs are weak. “I can’t stop this,” I whisper. The crowd around me is moving forward, obeying my last command.
A smile breaks out on her face. The first real one I’ve seen. It’s beautiful. “No problem,” she says, reaching into her pocket with a free hand. “We’ve got a backup plan for that.”
She pulls out Twilight’s locket. “Sure hope this works,” she murmurs, and then she clicks the side and holds it high.
The locket opens up and glows, and light erupts from my chest: every color of the rainbow, but green most of all, flowing out of me and into the locket. The magic from me is joined by dozens of other green tendrils from the students I’ve transformed, bursting into the locket like a firework in reverse. I see them doubling over. A crowd of me is turning back to a mess of individuals.
Oh, god. If they’re transforming without my magic, then—
Sunset Shimmer shuts the locket in her hand, and then hurls it to the ground. It bursts open again, and now the firework is the right way around. Magic bursts from the locket, each color of the rainbow separated into an individual stream, heading toward the statue and the girls around it. A distant cry rings out: “My nose!”
I almost don’t notice the green light flowing back into me. But I do notice when my trembling, shifting body stabilizes.
Sunset smiles. “You came by that power honest. You can keep it, if you want.”
I stare. “You could have done that any time. You could have beaten me whenever you wanted.” I drop to my knees. “You waited. Why?”
“Well, first of all, this locket shouldn’t do this anymore. Twilight was up all night breaking it again. But second of all….” She chuckles, and crouches in front of me. “There’s a difference between doing something because you’re forced to, and doing it because you want to. We usually have to bust out the friendship bazooka, so….” She leans in for a quick, one-armed hug. “Thanks for letting us do it this way, this time.”
She’s thanking me. My voice catches as I laugh bitterly, looking at her shoes. “How can I make it up to you?”
My head whips up to look at hers, and she looks blurred. “I can be anyone for you. I can… just tell me, how can I make this up to you?”
“Anyone at all, huh?” Her smile is warm. “Then let’s start with being you.”
I blink. Does she mean—but even if she doesn’t, it’s right, isn’t it? She deserves to see this.
The fire surrounds me, warm as ever. I feel myself shrinking, feel black scars rippling across my face, feel my hair becoming ugly and dark.
When I look up again, I’m hideous. I’m Crispy. Sunset’s going to flinch away….
But she doesn’t. She’s staring at me with… a blush. “Wow,” she says. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re kinda hot?”
My body starts to shake, and I’m not sure why. She slaps her face, biting her lip. “Oh, Celestia, that is the wrong thing to say to a burn victim, I’m so dumb—”
The shaking is laughter. I pounce forward and kiss her on the lips. Her power dances between my skin and hers, and in those brief flashes of transition, I get to feel the first kiss ever experienced from both sides.
We break apart after what feels like not long enough, but what is probably far too long with my tongue doing what it is. “I’m sorry!” I stammer, pulling away. “I’m sorry, I just, just—”
She laughs gently, and I’m quiet. “That was pretty surprising,” she says, “even with everything else. And I’m kinda confused… but, kinda into it.”
I laugh. No, I start with a laugh. But a new, guttural element is introduced somewhere in the middle, and by the end I’m doubled over, and the laughs are painful. Like coughs. Coughs?
“Are you all right?” she asks. I try to answer, but sneeze instead. “Oh, shucks,” she says, biting her lip again. “I should have seen this coming. Sorry.”
“What is it?”
This is Fluttershy, who’s approaching tentatively along with Sunset’s other friends, but Sunset waves them back. “I should have known better than to do all that skin-to-skin contact,” she says. “You’ve caught my cold. And after I got that mask and everything….”
I try to say something to the effect of, “I like you better without the mask.” But a flood of mucus has come as suddenly as yesterday’s snow, and phlegm bursts from my throat instead of words.
“Come on,” she says, putting her arm under my shoulder and lifting me. “We’re quarantining ourselves until we’re both actually healthy.”
A chorus of cries rings out from Sunset’s friends. “Dear, are you sure?” Rarity asks. “You’ll miss the Solstice Gala!”
“Sorry, Rarity!” Sunset sighs. “You girls have a good time, okay? I’ll just have to have a good time where I am.”
We limp away from the group, and through the crowd of CK students. Mr. Racks is among them, and has taken charge, organizing them into a sort of unit. I can’t help but notice he’s not ordering. Maybe he’s better at it than I am.
“So,” Sunset says. “I’m thinking, hot soup when we get back to my place.”
I finally find my voice as we reach the sidewalk. “And maybe we could watch a movie or something?” I rasp.
She looks at me, and then smiles. “Or something.” She’s got a lovely smile. “It’s a date.”