//------------------------------//
// The Prodigal Daughter's Mother 
// Story: The Prodigal Daughter 
// by Sixes_And_Sevens 
//------------------------------//


Entry 63: Hi Twilight! Everything is really looking up for me over here. The school has… pretty much forgiven and forgotten. There are still people who The victory over the Sirens really did turn things around for me. I really think I’ve won over almost everyone here. How are things on your end? How's being a princess?

There was a knock at the door to Twilight’s study. The princess herself glanced up from her piles of paperwork. “Come in,” she called.
The door opened and somepony stepped through. Twilight squinted, but still she only saw a fuzzy, blue blob shaped like a pony. “...Dash?”
“What? No. It’s Trixie. Why…”
“Oh! Sorry,” Twilight apologized. “I think there’s something wrong with my eyes today. I can barely see my hoof in front of my face!”
The blue blob moved closer, and now Twilight could vaguely make out a smudge of purple on its head. “Perhaps you need glasses?”
“Yeah, maybe. You know, it’s interesting. My human counterpart actually needed glasses too. Maybe there are more similarities between our worlds than we thought…”
“Actually, that’s what Trixie wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
“It’s… well, it’s Sunset. She is simply impossible.”
“Oh, come now, nothing’s impossible! Especially not friendship.”
Trixie sighed, and from what Twilight could make out of her blurry form, she had just rolled her eyes. “Not to question your platitudes, oh wise one, but Trixie begs to differ. Sunset has been antagonistic, insensitive, rude… not just to Trixie, either! She asked Lyra how her marefriend was.”
“Oh,” Twilight said, wincing. That was a sensitive topic for the mint-green unicorn— she and Bonbon were old friends and housemates, which led ponies to assume they were… something more. Over the years, that had worn down the normally genial cryptozoologist’s last nerve. Whenever the topic was brought up, she lost her temper, and for somepony as high-strung as Lyra, that could go very bad very quickly. “Well, she didn’t know…”
“No. That is rather Trixie’s point. She did not know, but thought it was safe to assume, and now there’s a scorched crater in town square.”
Twilight leaned forward once more, concerned. “Nopony was hurt, I hope?”
“No, no. It’s a small crater, hardly bigger than a table.”
“...Hm. Well, as long as everything’s fine now, I’ll just let Mayor Scroll handle that. As for Sunset, I happen to remember another rather rude unicorn with a superiority complex and a bad attitude coming to town several years back— a travelling performer. Most ponies around here thought that she would be that way forever, but she grew and changed for the better. Now, what was her name…”
For a moment, Trixie puffed up in indignation, but then relaxed, sighing. “Okay. You have Trixie there. Nevertheless! Sunset is acting simply intolerably! How can Trixie get around it?”
Twilight thought. “Just remember that she’s spent the last several years in self-imposed exile. She’s been beating herself up for… a lot of the time, really, and I’m still not sure she’s forgiven herself completely.”
Trixie appeared to consider this. “Plus,” Twilight added, “She was stuck in high school the whole time.”
The blue fuzzy pony-shape flinched. “Okay,” she agreed. “Trixie can see how that might impact a pony. She will keep that in mind for the future.”
“Try to be nice to her,” Twilight said. “Celestia told me she had something of an unusual childhood.”
“Oh?”
Twilight gave a long level look at where the blue blurry blob appeared to be. “That’s all I know. Even if I did know more, it’s not my place to say.”
“Of course.” Twilight thought that sounded sincere, though she couldn’t read her assistant’s body language. She would have to see about that optometrist’s appointment sooner than she’d thought… “Trixie?”
The blue shape, which had been heading out the door, paused and turned. “Yes?”
Twilight smiled sheepishly. “Could you get the lights? I could really do with resting my eyes right about now.”
There was a brief flare of pinkish light, followed by a dimness that spread across the room. “Better?”
“Much, thanks,”
As Trixie left, Twilight let out a yawn. She just felt so tired, all of a sudden. She would feel better after having a nap, she was sure. She was… abso… lutely… sure...zzzzz…
The alicorn slumped back in her chair, already sound asleep, her dreams full of technicolor bipeds.


***

Sunset stared at the lunchroom. Look for the balloons, indeed. One entire lunch table looked like it had been swallowed by latex and ribbon in bright blues and yellows. She hesitated. It couldn’t be that hard to make new friends, could it? Sure, she’d never had that many friends back in Salem, but surely— her train of thought was suddenly and abruptly derailed when her lunch tray suddenly fell from her hands.
“Whoops,” said a blue-skinned girl with a nasty smirk. “So sorry, Sunny.”
Sunset watched the other girl — no, there was no other word for it — saunter away, still too stunned to move. “Oh, dear,” said a cultured voice from behind her. “I’m dreadfully sorry about that. Trixie is something of a troublemaker.”
Sunset turned. The alabaster-skinned girl from chemistry was standing behind her, a slight smile on her face. “Do come and sit down, dear,” she said, putting an arm around Sunset’s shoulders. “I think it’s high time we had a bit of a chat.”


***

Flanked on the left by a pair of soldiers from her sister’s Day Guard and on the right by two of her own Night Guards, Luna strode quickly down the hallway, far more quickly than what would normally be considered regal. The guards, despite their training, were finding it something of a struggle to keep up with their princess. Frankly, she felt like just running on and leaving them behind, running to her sister’s side, but appearances had to be maintained. There was always somepony watching, even here in the palace. Especially here in the palace. She broke into a trot, the soldiers just about galloping to keep up.
At length, they arrived at a pair of old oaken doors, intricately carved with patterns of suns, plants, and ponies. Luna raised a hoof and, hesitating but a moment, knocked. “Sister? May we enter?”
Taking the noncommittal grunt from the other side as an affirmative, the princess of the moon pushed wide the doors to her sister’s chambers. She stared inside for a long moment. She glanced at the four guards. “Wait here,” she commanded. “This is a private matter.” The four stationed themselves at either side of the door with minimal fuss.
Steeling herself, she walked into the room. It was neither as bright nor welcoming as it normally was— the curtains had been drawn and the room’s inhabitant, usually so vibrant, was sitting alone in a corner. “Hello, Luna,” she said quietly.
“I came as soon as I heard. It’s true, then?”
Celestia nodded. Luna noticed that her mane was far more pink and limp than she normally allowed it to be. That was a very bad sign. “Would you like to talk?”
The princess of the Sun merely shrugged, not even glancing up from her desk. Luna moved a little closer to see what she was looking at. It was a book full of pictures, without benefit of conversations or even chapters. And what, Luna wondered, was the point of a book without conversations? What was the point of these pictures? She recognized her sister, of course, and she had seen some of the others around the palace, but who was that fiery-maned filly in each of them? She had never met—
...oh.
“Is that her? Your stu— Sunset?”
“Yes,” Celestia whispered. “That’s her.”
“You are not pleased that she has returned.”
Celestia actually did look up this time, surprised. “Oh, I am. She was the daughter I never had.”
Luna frowned slightly. “You were… close?”
“Luna,” Celestia replied, staring straight into her sister’s eyes, “I don’t mean that as a metaphor.”
The darker alicorn frowned slightly. “What do you mean it as, then?”
“She was more than just a student to me,” Celestia replied quietly. “She didn’t come to the academy in quite the normal way. A little over thirty years ago, she was left in a basket on the back doorstep of the palace, with a note saying that she couldn’t be brought up in the normal way, and could I please find her a home.”
Luna thought about this. “And… what did you do then?”
Celestia’s eyes were dewy. “I gave her one.”
The princess of the night blinked. Surely she didn’t mean… “You adopted her?”
“What else could I do?” Celestia asked.
Luna was about to retort when she realized that her sister’s shoulders were beginning to shake. “I was so alone,” she whispered. “Oh, so alone. Cadence was never around the palace anymore, most of our descendants had long forgotten their ancestors— save for the Bluebloods and a few others, who were all off in politics and parties anyway, and you were… still away... “
Luna stood gape-mouthed. So far as she knew, the last two times her sister had cried like this was when she had returned from the moon and the time she had been banished unto it. Celestia had always been strong for the public, strong for the nation, strong for every pony, dragon, griffon, minotaur, diamond dog, and everything else under her Sun. Luna had just never realized how much that that list had come to include her. She wrapped her weeping sister into a gentle embrace. “Shh, shh,” she comforted, just as she remembered Celestia doing for her when they had been young. “It will be all right.”
“No! She hates me. I drove her away from me! I was too closed, too secretive! I tried to protect her too much, and I made her hate me!”
“Sister…”
Celestia buried her face in Luna’s shoulder, her mane now as flat and pink as Fluttershy’s. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered.
“Sister.”
“I pushed her away. I drove her from me.”
“Sister!”
“I made her—”
“Celestia!”
The princess of the day blinked once and glanced up at her sister. “Huh?”
Luna glared at her sternly. “You are not to blame in this. Sunset made her own decisions. They were poor decisions, but they were hers to make. Simply because they were reactions to actions that you took does not make those choices yours. You are not to blame!”
“But— but— I could have stopped her,” Celestia whispered.
“Could you?” Luna shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But, if there’s anything that the Doctor taught us, it is that the future is the future, and the past is the past.”
Celestia smirked faintly, color rising back to her cheeks and mane. “That’s more or less the exact opposite of what they taught us,” she retorted.
Luna chuckled. “Well. No matter. The point is, it has been several years— how many years has it been since she left?”
“A little under twenty, our time. Not sure how that equates on the other side,” Celestia said.
“It has been twenty years. You have changed. She has changed. The world has changed. Sister, if somepony had come to you twenty years ago and told you that Discord would become one of our closest allies, would you have believed them? Things change, Celestia. Sometimes they change into beautiful things, such as caterpillars into butterflies. Sometimes, they turn into ugly things, like the film version of a book.” That got a chuckle out of Celestia, and Luna smiled for a moment. “But ugly or beautiful, they change. Trying to keep your relations with others exactly the same is as futile a task as stopping the phases of— um.”
Celestia giggled. “The Moon?”
“I might not have been about to say that,” her younger sister defended, though she too wore a smile.
Celestia took a deep, calming breath, and smiled calmly once more. “Thank you, Lulu,” she said. “I needed that.”
“Anytime, Celly,” Luna agreed with a grin.
Celestia hugged her sister once more. “Well! I’d better get to Ponyville. I expect the guards are just outside?”
Luna nodded. “I’ll have them see to your chariot.” Before she went though, she paused at the doorway. “I did mean that. Anytime you need to talk, I am here. You don’t have to be strong all the time, sister.”
And then she was gone, leaving a surprised, but not a little pleased, Celestia in her wake.


***

“So, she just handed you the journal and ran?” Twilight scratched her head. “I don’t know, Rainbow. It does seem very unlike Sunset to leave us like that.”
“But she’s still here,” Fluttershy pointed out. “She just, well…”
“Doesn’t remember us,” Applejack concluded.
Sunset looked around in bewilderment at the six girls. “I… I can hear you, you know,” she stated. “And I’ve never met any of you before in my life! I’m telling you, I just moved here from Oregon to live with... Mom and Aunt Luna. That’s it.”
Rarity looked at the fiery-haired girl thoughtfully. “You know,” she said slowly, “I’m inclined to believe that is the truth. You girls remember when we first met Twilight— our Twilight— who’s to say that this isn’t our world’s Sunset?”
A long moment followed that. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sunset said flatly.
“The statue in front of the school is actually a portal to another dimension that’s full of ponies,” Pinkie said matter-of-factly.
“Ohhh,” Sunset nodded. “Of course. You’re all delusional, I should’ve realized that already.”
“It does sound crazy when ya put it like that,” Applejack conceded. “But we can show ya proof! Um, somehow.”
Rarity snapped her fingers. “Ladies, phones out,” she commanded, whipping her own little pink mobile out of her pocket. Six more followed suit.
“What, are you going to phone the ponies?” Sunset snorted. “Sorry, we can’t pick up the phone right now, we’ve got hooves.”
“Not exactly,” Rarity said, turning her phone around. Sunset stared at the screen. Staring back was her own smiling face, pressed close next to Fluttershy and Rarity in a selfie.
“That’s… me. That’s the girl I saw this morning, isn’t it.”
“You gave her something of a start, it seems,” Rarity murmured.
“I gave her a start? She nearly gave me a heart attack!” Sunset groaned, rubbing at her forehead. “This doesn’t make any put the phones away, I believe you, I believe you, just… It’s really creepy to see your own face staring back at you.”
Cell phones were promptly returned to pockets as the fiery-haired girl buried her head in her hands. “Was she living my life here? Was she… God, was she posing as me to my mom?”
“What? No way, Sunset wouldn’t do that,” Dash said, supremely confident. “She’s way too cool for that.”
“Alright, fine. Where did she live? What has she been doing, wearing my face, using my name, leading my life, huh? What’s she done that I’ve got to answer for?”
Silence fell over the table as six girls stared at one another in shock and confusion.


***

Sunset paced around the library, checking the spine on every book. “Come on, come on, where are you?” she grumbled.
Trixie watched the orange unicorn from a distance. She had originally come in to try and make amends with Sunset, but she seemed preoccupied. Trixie crept forwards, watching the other mare carefully. The way Sunset’s mane flickered as she trotted along was almost hypnotic, seeming as it did to move and crackle like a real fire. “Ugh,” she groaned, stopping to bang her head against a shelf. “Where did she put it?”
“Are you looking for something?”
Sunset let out a short shout of surprise, spinning about-face. When she saw Trixie, she relaxed slightly. But only slightly. “What do you want?” she grumbled.
Trixie took a deep breath. Remember, she’s been a teenager for the past several years, she reminded herself. Obviously, she’s going to be a little touchy. “Trixie came… to apologize,” she said.
Sunset’s jaw went slack. “Uh?”
“Today has not been a great day,” Trixie said slowly and carefully, watching the other mare’s reactions closely. “Mistakes were made. Some of them were Trixie's fault, some were yours, and on most of them we share the blame. However, Trixie hopes that we can make amends.”
Sunset made no motion other than a slow blink. Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Well?” she prompted.
“I— yes. Yeah, sure,” Sunset agreed, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I… yeah, sorry, I spaced out there for a sec. But, yes. I’d like it if we could be friends.”
Trixie smiled in relief. “The Relieved and Jovial Trixie is glad to hear that. Now, you were looking for something?”
“Oh! Yeah, the Friendship Journal. It’s sort of an interdimensional communica—”
“Communicator, yes,” Trixie agreed. “Trixie has seen it before, yes. When it is not powering the portal between worlds, Twilight usually keeps it in a nightstand by her bed.”
“She… does?” Sunset felt oddly touched.
Trixie nodded. “I suppose she wanted to be able to know about what was occurring in your human world as quickly as possible,” she said.
Sunset frowned. “...You said ‘I’ again,” she noticed.
The blue unicorn blinked owlishly. “Trixie has no idea what you are talking about,” she replied.
Sunset shrugged. “Eh, whatevs. Thanks.” She trotted off from the room.
Sighing, Trixie stared into space. “Five,” she counted quietly, “four, three, two, one—”
“Um, where’s Twilight’s room?”
Trixie nodded to herself. “This way,” she said, trotting toward the other side of the room, Sunset galloping to catch up.


***

Applejack was no slouch when it came to physical exertion. She hadn’t done the Iron Pony contest and been in countless rodeos for nothing, after all. She was strong and fast and could run pretty much forever. Nevertheless, even she was having a little trouble keeping up with the Doctor. As soon as she had finished describing the strange machine in the orchard, he had gone a funny color, shouted something to the nature of “I knew it! I knew dimension travel would be bad news!” and bolted out from his repair shop in a dead sprint, leaving a very confused Twilight Sparkle behind him.
“What’s— so- bad— about— that— doo— hickey?” she gasped.
“Nothing by itself— but it’s a symptom— of a much greater problem,” he replied.
“What’s— that?”
“Potentially— the collapse— of the universe.”
Applejack decided that her energy would be better conserved for running.


***

Rarity yawned and stretched. “Goodness, what a pleasant rest,” she declared to no one in particular. She winced slightly as her back let out a disturbing cracking sound. “Oh, goodness.” She twisted once or twice, and stretched like a cat. Satisfied that her back was fully functional, she stepped out of bed and trotted downstairs.
“Spikey~” she cooed. “Oh, Spikey-Wikey~ Where are you?”
She paused, listening for some response. There came a muffled, deep, grunting sort of noise. It certainly didn’t sound like her darling drake… “Spikey?” she called again, more concerned. No reply. She hurried down the stairs, horn lit. The lower floor of the boutique was dark. Why was it dark? It was still the middle of the day!
Another thought struck her. Why had she been asleep? Why in the world would she close the shop in the middle of the day? The fact that she didn’t know distressed her more than any answer could. “Spike!” she called. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shape move. It wasn’t Spike, it couldn’t be. She spun towards it, letting out a shout that was half fear and half defiance— and then she stopped.
Rarity gaped at what she saw. Sputtering for a moment, she seemed to have lost the ability to speak. “SPIKE?!” she gasped. “Is that you?!”
Looking as perplexed as she felt, the large purple-and-green dog merely nodded his assent.


***

“Your majesty?”
Celestia blinked once or twice, then looked forwards. A guard was staring at her oddly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was lost in thought for a moment.” A little white lie. She had really been half-asleep, but it didn’t pay to let that sort of thing slip. “You were saying?”
“Your chariot awaits, your highness.”
“Ah. Thank you, Sergeant…”
“Sheen, your highness. Nacre Sheen.”
“Sergeant Sheen,” she said. Then, she frowned. “Is there something wrong, Sergeant?”
The guard blushed fiercely. “No, no, your highness.”
“You seem to be staring at my neck,” she said, frown deepening. “Is there something…” she cast a reflecting spell. She stared. “What in the world?” she asked, bemused.
For there, right on the side of her neck, was a massive spot of light pink spreading slowly across her white coat like ink across paper.


***

Applejack and the Doctor burst into the clearing. “Oh. Oh, no. Everypony back away, please,” the Doctor said, eyes wide. He trotted around the machine, pulling out his sonic as he did so. Positioning himself carefully, he aimed the screwdriver at the front of the huge vehicle. There was a fizzling pop from inside, and the Doctor let out a long breath of relief. “Good. That’s going nowhere fast,” he grinned.
“What is it, anyway?” Dash asked, landing on the top of the machine.
“It’s called a lorry,” the Doctor explained. “Or a pickup truck. It’s sort of like… a cart. Except it runs on petrol. And… and you have no idea what I’m on about, do you?”
“Nope,” Mac agreed.
“Right. Well, it’s a vehicle, a very advanced vehicle which should absolutely not be here.” He scowled at it. “Fortunately, I’ve managed to disable it. Less fortunately, that really doesn’t get us to the root of the problem. I think I’d better go and have a talk with Twilight. As for the rest of you lot, if you see anything out of the ordinary, anything strange or unusual or generally inexplicable, come and find me.”
He turned and made to trot off. Then, frowning, he turned around. “Has anything else unusual happened today?”
Granny rubbed her chin. “Ah found aprons an' hairnets in mah wardrobe,” she volunteered. "Never had them there afore."
“I found this weird ball in a tree,” Dash said, holding up a sphere covered in black and white hexagons and pentagons.
“Oh, an’ Sunset stopped by with Trixie,” Applejack said. “Ah wouldn’t of mentioned, but they’re th’ only other ponies that’ve been on th’ farm today, other’n us.”
The Doctor nodded. “Hm. I might just need to talk to Miss Shimmer as well, I see…” A thoughtful expression on his face, he trotted off, his brain abuzz.