The relief Sunset felt after the night at Rarity’s didn’t seem to be wearing off immediately, and she spent the Saturday with some much needed maintenance work in her apartment; over the last few weeks she had struggled to find the energy to even get up from her bed, let alone to do her laundry, wash her dishes, or generally clean up. So while she wasn’t even close to being restored, at least the paralyzing fear of what might become of her without Twilight was at least subdued for now, and she decided to seize this opportunity.
Bad days would come again soon enough, she was convinced.
When she woke up on Sunday she couldn’t stand staying in her apartment, cleaned up or not. Now it painfully reminded her of the last times she had actually cared about the state of her place—before Twilight’s visits. And nothing particularly good could come from that thought. So as soon as she was awake enough she fled the apartment; it was a nice, crisp early winter day with blue skies, cold, but bright.
As she hurried down the stairs she decided to have breakfast at Sugarcube Corner later—at least that place was mostly safe from unwanted memories. Maybe she’d even run into one of her friends there.
Now that she was out of her apartment, Sunset was in no hurry, and so she decided to take a nice long walk along the river; maybe not right past a certain bench, but a bit further downstream where the river banks turned into large meadows. In the summer that part was a popular spot for sunbathing and barbecues, but on a cold Sunday morning it would probably be quite empty, which suited Sunset just fine today.
She heard a dog bark in the distance. So not entirely deserted, but she didn’t mind dogs, and she didn’t have to engage with any owners. There was enough space. She decided to stay near the river banks for now, enjoying the sunlight reflecting on the water and the clear cold morning air.
Sunset stopped and turned to look at the river. It was flowing peacefully, with no boat traffic disturbing the quiet morning. The slow ripples calmed her, kept her from thinking more unpleasant things.
She heard the dog run down the path, coming closer, panting. The slower steps of its owner followed, but the owner stopped some distance away. All these things registered with her, but she refused to turn around. She didn’t care. All she cared for right now was the water.
Then the dog ran up to her and poked his nose against her leg. Forced to look down Sunset realized that she knew that dog.
“Spike, come back,” his owner called. Her voice shivered. She almost sounded desperate. “Please, Spike!”
“You sound like I’m gonna hurt him,” Sunset said, trying to sound calm despite the inner turmoil that voice caused her. She bent down and scratched Spike between the ears, and in response the little guy licked her hand. “I would never do that, right, Spike?”
“I couldn’t really be too sure about that, could I,” the wrong Twilight replied. She didn’t come closer, instead keeping a safe distance, at least ten yards from the sound of it. Sunset still didn’t turn towards her.
“I guess,” Sunset said. She kept scratching Spike, trying to defend against his vicious licking attacks. He was such a sweet dog.
For a few more moments no-one said a thing. Then the other Twilight spoke. “Um… actually, now that I meet you here… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, and maybe now is a good opportunity to, and… well.
“Sunset Shimmer, I… I want to apologize to you. I’ve been wanting to for a while, but, well, you know… so, yes. I’m very sorry for what happened. Your friends told me about the portal, and the… the visitor. Your girlfriend. I… I can’t even begin to understand what you’re going through right now, and I guess you have every right to be super angry at me, and punch me, and… but I’m honestly, truly, from the bottom of my heart, sorry.”
Sunset froze. Spike bumped his nose against her hand to get her to continue to scratch him, but all Sunset could do was think She’s sorry. Over and over again. She’s sorry.
The silence stretched. Spike sat down in front of Sunset and looked up to her, wagging his tail.
“Um, yeah. Real sorry,” the other Twilight said.
Sunset took a deep breath. She patted Spike’s head, to the latter’s great joy. “Okay,” she finally said.
“Okay?”
“Okay,” she repeated. “You said your thing. I heard what you said.” She snorted. “And now?”
“Um, I dunno,” the other girl said.
“Me neither,” Sunset said. “I… I can’t just pretend I forgive you. I heard your apology, but… I can’t.” She kept focusing on Spike. At least the little guy was uncomplicated.
“So… you’ll stay mad at me?” Twilight asked. Her voice sounded dejected. And a bit fearful.
Sunset shrugged. “All that I can offer you,” she said, “is that I don’t plan on punching you again.”
—and why again do I have to offer her anything—
Because it’s not for her sake, it’s for mine.
“That’d be a relief,” Twilight said. “If you mean it.”
“Believe what you will, I don’t care either way,” Sunset said, shrugging. “But it is what it is.”
Spike ran away from her, but only far enough to pick up a stick from the grass which he then brought back and dropped at her feet. Then he looked up to her expectantly. “He wants you to throw it,” the other Twilight explained.
“I get it,” Sunset said, rolling her eyes. She picked up the stick and threw it. Away from the other girl. Spike darted after it. When he returned it Sunset tossed it again. The game went on for a few times; Spike didn’t seem to tire of it. His owner kept standing somewhere behind Sunset. She didn’t seem to feel safe enough to come closer, which suited Sunset just fine.
“Well, in that case, thank you, I guess,” the other Twilight finally said. “I appreciate it. The not punching, that is.”
Sunset snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not doing this for you.”
“I… understand.” A short pause, then, “Actually, no, I don’t understand.”
Sunset pinched the bridge of her nose. This was getting aggravating. “I’m actually okay with that.” She took a deep breath. She knew that that girl would just keep asking if she didn’t give her at least something. She had a bunch in common with Twilight, after all. “Look, I have my reasons. It’s not because I forgave you, and it’s not because I stopped being angry at you. It’s something personal. None of your business.”
“O-okay,” the other Twilight said and audibly swallowed. “None of my business, got it.” Sunset threw the stick another time for Spike to return it. “I’ll make sure to stay out of your business then.”
Sunset shrugged. “Do what you want. If I see you in school I guess it can’t be helped either way. I won’t make you hide in your locker or whatever. I really don’t give a flying Parasprite.” Spike returned the stick, and Sunset tossed it again. On an impulse she asked, “What are you doing at CHS anyway, all of a sudden?”
“I was expelled from Crystal Prep,” the other Twilight said, and now she clearly sounded dejected. “I essentially set the school on fire, and since Principal Cinch never liked me I… was expelled.”
—serves you right—
She pushed the mean, vengeful thoughts away. Not again. Not anymore. “You set the school on fire. Just like that.”
“I… I used to have a lab set up in the basement. I did a bunch of projects there because regular classes were, well… not exactly challenging. And when the accident happened, apparently some part of my equipment blew up, and my lab and part of the basement went up in flames.”
What does the accident have to do with that? Sunset wondered. She didn’t ask. The last thing she wanted to discuss with this girl was the accident. “Sucks for you,” she said, deliberately sounding cold.
“I guess,” the other girl said. “Canterlot High School seems nice. The other students are much… more welcoming. I didn’t really have any friends at Crystal Prep.” She interrupted herself. “Sorry. Why should you care about any of that.”
“That’s right. I don’t.”
“I’ll make sure to stay away from you and your friends,” Twilight repeated. “If that helps.”
Sunset whirled around so fast that Spike jumped back from her, and for the first time during this encounter she looked at the other girl. She took another deep breath in a feeble attempt to calm herself down, but looking at her had been a huge mistake. All she really wanted right now was to scream at this girl until her voice gave out.
“Look,” she said, “Nothing you could ever possible do, helps! I don’t want to be anywhere near you, I don’t want to look at your face, I don’t want to hear your voice, I don’t even want to know you exist, do you understand that?” Twilight flinched back from her, but didn’t turn away. “You’re right, you have no idea what I’m going through. It doesn’t matter if it was an accident or if you’d planned to destroy the portal, it doesn’t change a thing, do you understand? The visitor as you call her, she…”
Sunset swallowed. She wasn’t gonna start crying, not in front of this one. “She’s the love of my life, and thanks to you there’s no way for me to even contact her. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again, and I miss her so much it makes me…” She interrupted herself again; that was truly nothing she wanted to share with that girl. “Every day I hope that there’s finally a message from her, something that tells me that she’s at least alright after you practically drove her through that portal, because I don’t even know that; for all I know she might be lost between the dimensions or whatever, and that’s something I don’t even want to think about, do you understand that?”
“I—“
She snorted. A single tear ran down her cheek, and she impatiently wiped it away. She made a few steps towards the wrong Twilight, who still didn’t budge. “And you know what? That’s not even the worst.” She stopped herself a few steps away from her because she was getting worked up now and she didn’t trust herself anymore to keep her promise, and as much as she still wanted to, she also didn’t want to punch her.
“Do you have any idea what it feels like to look at you? To look into your eyes? To hear your voice? When you look and sound almost exactly like her? It hurts. It hurts so much I can’t even begin to make you understand. You’re like a friggin’ carrot on a stick, only a billion times worse.” She wiped her annoying eyes again. “Every second I’m in your presence reminds me of her and that she isn’t here and that there’s nothing I can do about that, and it’s just too much to bear.” She sighed, almost deflated by her own outburst. “Do you understand that, huh?”
Twilight sniffled. “I’m so sorry,” she choked before she wiped her eyes. “I’m so sorry, for everything. I… I’ll make sure to stay away from you.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
The other girl gave her one last look before she turned away. “Spike, come, we’re going home.”
Sunset turned her back at them and stared out at the water again. Why did the other Twilight have to cry? She didn’t have any business crying. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to tell herself that it was none of her business.
Why do I have to deal with her in the first place?
She kept looking at the water, trying to regain that peace she had felt before that girl had showed up. Sure, their conversation had left her somewhat emotional, but at the end of the day that girl and anything she did didn’t matter at all.
If only she didn’t remind her of Twilight so much.
***
The computer’s soft ding sound woke Twilight Sparkle from her little nap. Spike, who was cuddled up against her side, opened an eye before dismissively turning on his side. Twilight sat up, trying to clear her mind. The lack of sleep from the past couple of days was taking its toll, and she kept passing out while her computer was doing simulation runs.
It was all she could do at this point, with most of her equipment either turned to charcoal or, if it was even slightly usable, confiscated by Principal Cinch. So she was confined to a more theoretical approach based on the data in her cloud storage.
After she had returned home on that Sunday morning she had first isolated the data from the exact instant of the accident. It was easy enough to determine where the interesting part started; the readings suddenly went off the charts the exact instant she crashed the car into the plinth.
Mathematically speaking the collapsing graphs and the erratic spikes were almost beautiful.
That is, before one knew of the effects of those energy lines in the real world. Or rather, real worlds, since according to what the girls had told her at least two different planes of existence were involved.
And so Twilight had spent the entire Sunday—and quite a fair bit of the following nights, until way into the small hours of Tuesday morning—trying to assess the energies that were released upon the destruction of the portal. Her preliminary work on the energy meter and the handheld emitter had proven very helpful in understanding the specific transformations and frequencies. Unsurprisingly the wave was different for a destruction event than it was for a transgression, but there were certain similarities, and by Tuesday she was able to isolate a few candidates for a transformation matrix.
Once she had her matrix candidates, she got to work on writing some simulation scripts. She wanted to get a hold on a—thus far strictly theoretical—process to create an energy output similar to what she had recorded during the accident. It would be a first step…
And, well, because she was again ignoring her body’s needs, she sometimes passed out. At least she had been able to avoid falling asleep in class; but whenever she was waiting for her calculation scripts to finish running there was just no way. It didn’t help that waiting and looking at log messages scrolling past her screen was utterly boring.
She tried not to think too hard about why she was still working on this project. If she was being honest with herself, there wasn’t a whole lot more to be gained. The portal, the actual heart of the project, was destroyed. And she had gotten her explanation, unsatisfactory as it was.
“Magic,” she mumbled, staring at her log files.
Twilight still would have liked to witness that so-called pony magic that the friends of Sunset Shimmer had mentioned, and that somehow became visible when they played music, but she couldn’t exactly just walk up to them and ask them. In fact, she had done her best to avoid those girls out of fear of running into Sunset Shimmer again—after the encounter out by the river she wasn’t too interested in that.
At least she was used to avoiding people at school; her time at Crystal Prep had been mostly that.
Maybe, she thought, she was really hoping to find some clue how the doppelganger fared, as Rarity had asked her. If she could find any hint that the doppelganger might be alright, maybe it would somehow… ease Sunset Shimmer’s pain? The pain that she was responsible for.
Maybe she was only trying to make herself feel better.
At least trying to isolate the energy emissions of the destroyed portal was keeping her mind occupied.
***
Sunset awoke to someone knocking at her door. She didn’t want to be awake. Her head hurt, and her mouth felt as if some small rodent had crawled inside and died there. And yet someone was knocking. They needed to stop knocking. Sunset needed more sleep. And probably half a dozen of aspirins.
The knocking continued.
“Go away,” she groaned.
But still, the knocking continued.
Did she really have to get up and answer?
Knock knock. Who’s there? Go away.
Maybe if she answered the door the knocking would stop and she could finally go back to sleep, for another fourteen hours or so. Maybe after those aspirins.
She rolled over and nearly fell out of bed. Carefully she put a knee on the floor and pushed herself to her feet. Her apartment was unsteady this morning, and her head was a pulsating disaster zone. She got on her way to the front door, steadying herself with a hand on the wall as she went.
Knock knock.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, calm the heck down,” she mumbled.
When she finally reached the door she had to stop for a moment. Everything was shaky, and her vision was blurry and strangely darkened around the edges. Her stomach didn’t feel too great either. She opened the door and looked into the face of the last person she would have expected here.
“You,” she hissed.
“Sunset Shimmer, I have to talk to you,” Twilight Sparkle said.
***
It was a bit disconcerting to stand in front of that apartment building again. After all, the last time Twilight Sparkle had been here, it had been in order to basically spy on Sunset Shimmer. She had even installed a hidden camera, and had basically peeped on Sunset Shimmer and her girlfriend in bed. And that was even before she had destroyed the portal. Or promised Sunset Shimmer to stay away from her forever.
But this couldn’t wait. She needed to talk to Sunset Shimmer, and that was why she had come here this early on a Saturday morning. If Sunset Shimmer was going to be upset, there was nothing she could do about it. She just hoped she wouldn’t be too angry. Or yell at her.
The apartment building wasn’t in the best part of town, no comparison to the friendly neighborhood where her parents lived, but as far as inner city quarters went it wasn’t too bad. She would just have to hope that her bike would be safe. When she rang the doorbell there was no answer.
She tried the front door and found that it didn’t close right. She climbed to second floor—that much she still knew from her reconnaissance mission on the fire escape—and then took a moment to orient herself before she headed down the hallway to the left and quickly found the right door.
She knocked, and again there was no answer. But she couldn’t wait! She had to see Sunset Shimmer right now! So she continued knocking, even when she heard slow shuffling steps from inside. After some more waiting the door was finally opened, and Sunset Shimmer stared at her.
“You,” she hissed.
“Sunset Shimmer, I have to talk to you,” Twilight said. Only then she realized that Sunset was reeling and just barely holding on to the doorframe. She had big dark rings under her eyes, and the skin of her face was pale and sweaty. “Are you alright?”
Instead of a reply Sunset made a strange noise—hurrk—and held her stomach. “I’m gonna hurl.” Without further ado she turned her back at Twilight and shuffled into the apartment, still holding her stomach with one hand and steadying herself against the wall with the other. No, Twilight decided, she was definitely not alright. Something was very wrong with Sunset Shimmer.
After only a slight hesitation Twilight followed Sunset inside the apartment, just as Sunset disappeared into a door to the right. Twilight heard the toiled lid being opened, and then the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting. She hurried to follow Sunset and found her in the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet and holding on to it with both arms.
“Sunset…” Twilight stammered. She put down her bag, then she rushed to the sick girl and knelt beside her. Doing her best to ignore the stench she carefully brushed Sunset’s hair back and held it out of the danger zone while more convulsions shook the other girl.
After a few more minutes Sunset finally stopped retching. When she was at least somewhat confident that she was done throwing up for now, Twilight quickly flushed the toilet. Sunset remained kneeling and didn’t react.
“Wait here,” Twilight said and got up. “I’ll get you some water.”
She had walked past the kitchen when she’d come in, so she knew where to go. The kitchen was small, but orderly. She picked up a glass from the sink, quickly cleaned it, and filled it with water before hurrying back to the bathroom where Sunset Shimmer hadn’t moved at all. Twilight knelt down next to her again and carefully touched her shoulder to let her know that she was back. When Sunset still didn’t react, she said, “I have some water for you.”
“Cool,” Sunset said, but didn’t move. She was still holding on to the toilet and made no move to take the glass of water from Twilight.
“Hold still,” Twilight said softly as she raised the glass to Sunset’s mouth. She carefully tilted it so that Sunset could drink, and was glad to notice that she was actually drinking. “Slowly,” she told her as some of the water ran down Sunset’s chin. It took a while, but Sunset eventually drank most of the water.
When Twilight took the glass away, Sunset groaned and said, “Not quite how I wanted to start the day.”
“Vomiting, you mean?”
“Yeah, that too,” Sunset mumbled. “Look, can you give me some room so I can get up? I’m not sure how steady I am.”
“I can help you up,” Twilight offered.
“I can do that by myself,” Sunset brushed her off. Twilight stood up and stepped back while Sunset used the toilet to pull herself up. She almost toppled, but when Twilight made to support her she just hissed at her, and she left her alone. “See?” Sunset said when she finally stood. “Piece of cake.” She held out her hand. “Gimme that glass, I need more.”
Twilight handed her the glass. Sunset filled it from the bathroom tap and took a big sip. “Much better.” She looked around. “Hey, at least I made it to the toilet in time, huh. Go me.”
“I guess?” Twilight feebly agreed. She was still worried about Sunset Shimmer’s sickness, even though her demeanor seemed to be already back to normal. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll manage,” Sunset said dismissively.
“Is there anything I can do?” Twilight asked. She was not convinced. Her mind was already listing off syndromes and ailments that may have caused such sickness, and that wasn’t at all helping.
“You can make coffee,” Sunset said. “I’d just spill everything.” For proof she held out the glass which was still half full with water. Her hand was shaking, and had the glass been full she would have spilled the water. “You know how to make coffee, right?”
“Yes, I… of course.”
“Good girl.” Sunset turned and left the bathroom, and Twilight had no choice but to follow her into the kitchen after she had picked up her bag. Sunset plopped down on one of the chairs. When Twilight came in she made a vague gesture towards the cupboards. “There’s coffee and cups in there, and the kettle is on the counter.” She took another deep sip from her glass and then rested her head on the table.
Twilight gave her a concerned look, but then decided to get to work. Maybe coffee would indeed help Sunset Shimmer. She turned on the kettle before she went to search the cupboards for coffee and a mug. While she was waiting for the water to boil she looked at Sunset Shimmer. It seemed as if she had fallen asleep; she hadn’t moved anymore or said anything. But when Twilight poured the water, and the scent of coffee wafted through the kitchen, Sunset Shimmer sat up and looked at her; and when Twilight handed her the mug she greedily took it.
“Don’t burn your mouth,” Twilight said.
“Yeah, sure, mom,” Sunset said and took a careful sip. “Ouch. Worth it.” For a minute or so she just took tiny sips from her coffee, and Twilight watched her.
Eventually Twilight couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “Maybe you should see a doctor?”
Sunset Shimmer choked on the coffee and almost dropped the cup as she started laughing. “A doctor!” she chuckled. And then, “Ow, laughing hurts.” She put down the mug and looked at Twilight, still grinning. “You’re so precious, Sparkle. A doctor. Really.”
“I’m just—“ Twilight said, blushing. It was mean of Sunset to make fun of her when she was only worrying about her well-being! “So what’s up with you then?” she asked a bit more sharply.
“It’s called a hangover,” Sunset said and picked up her coffee again. “It happens when you drink too much alcohol. Don’t do it, kids, it’s seriously no fun.”
“You don’t have to patronize me,” Twilight huffed. “I know what a hangover is. I just thought maybe you were ill or something.”
“How considerate of you,” Sunset scoffed. Then she sighed and added, “You know what, I’m sorry. There’s no reason for me to be an ass about it.”
“Apology accepted,” Twilight said. She tried not to show her surprise at Sunset Shimmer actually apologizing to her. If anything, she told herself, now she had reason to worry about her.
“So you can stop worrying,” Sunset said. “I’ve had hangovers before, I know how to deal with that. As soon as I can muster up the strength to get me some aspirin I’ll be as good as new.” She grimaced. “Well, not as good as new, but… you know.”
“I’ll get it for you,” Twilight said. “In the bathroom?” Sunset nodded and returned her attention to her coffee. Twilight left the kitchen and returned to the bathroom. The smell was still unpleasant, but the small room didn’t have a window. She opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and found a bottle of aspirin among some other drugs and personal items. Embarrassed she picked up the bottled and hurried to close the cabinet again. She suddenly felt like intruding into Sunset Shimmer’s personal life—even more than after setting up the camera—and that she wasn’t welcome here.
Back in the kitchen she placed the bottle on the table, and Sunset Shimmer nodded thanks. “You’re gonna need water with those,” Twilight said and took the glass to refill it. When she brought it back to the table Sunset Shimmer had already plucked two pills from the bottle. She grabbed the glass from Twilight’s hands and gulped down the two pills.
“Thanks, Sparkle,” she said with closed eyes.
“Um, you’re welcome.”
For a few moments the two girls remained in silence, until Sunset asked, “So what the hay are you doing here anyway?”
“There’s something I have to tell you,” Twilight said. “Or rather show you.”
“Something that’s important enough to wake me up when I’m two-thirds hungover and one-third still drunk?” Sunset asked with a raised eyebrow. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”
“Yes,” Twilight said. “Yes, I am.”
She opened her bag, and immediately Spike jumped out. When he recognized Sunset Shimmer he ran over to her and tried to climb on her lap. Despite her condition she smiled and scratched his head. “Y’know, he’s a cute dog and all, but—“
“That’s not it,” Twilight interrupted her. She pulled out a manila binder and brought it to the table where she opened it for Sunset Shimmer. “Here.”
Sunset stared at the diagrams and formulas. “Lines. Congratulations, Sparkle, you made lines.”
Twilight groaned. “These are the energy emissions that occurred during the accident. This gray graph shows the emissions of the collapse of the portal. And this purple graph—“ But she couldn’t contain her excitement any longer. “Twilight—your Twilight, that is—she made it back!” And she pointed triumphantly at the printouts of her graphs.
Sunset stared at her, dumbfounded. Then she lowered her gaze to look at the graphs before looking at Twilight again. “Yeah she has. But how the heck do you know that?”
Twilight stared at her. “Wait, didn’t you tell me that you didn’t even know if she got through, and that you… were feeling bad because of it? And now it seems like you’ve known all along that she is fine? I don’t understand!”
“I’ve known since last night,” Sunset said, squinting. “When I last talked to you I had no idea.” She pointed at the papers. “And you’re telling me this there tells you that she got through?”
“Yes!” Twilight eagerly pointed at the graphs. “See, this here is the energy emission that my instruments picked up during the explosion. The x-axis is the time, and it’s six point seven three seconds long before the emission ends. And these are the amplitude changes for several frequency bands. Now, look here.” She pointed at the second graph. “This is the energy reading I got every time she passed through the portal. I triple-checked it with my data, and I’m reasonably sure that these are all instances when your Princess Twilight came through; maybe later you can verify that for me, and…”
“How about you get to the point?” Sunset asked. “Aspirin’s not kicking in yet, y’know.”
Twilight adjusted her glasses and gave Sunset a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Yes. Well, this is the graph for a very specific frequency band. And for the explosion, on this band, the graph looks like this!” With a somewhat grand gesture she pulled a third paper from her binder, this one with a green graph printed on it. It looked exactly like the purple graph. “There!” She looked at Sunset expectantly as if her graphs would explain everything.
“Umm… okay?”
“The only readings visible on this band are exactly the same as for a pass through the portal, which leads to the highly probable conclusion that someone went through the portal while the explosion was already taking place. And since the reading is exactly the same, there’s no reason to assume that the passage wasn’t successful.” She beamed at Sunset, waiting for the inevitable praise.
Sunset traced both graphs with a still shaky finger. “I guess that… makes sense?”
“Um… yes, it does. I’ve run some preliminary simulations, and I am about eighty-six per cent certain that something, or rather, somebody passed through the portal, and due to the circumstances it must have been her.” For confirmation she pointed at the graph again. When Sunset didn’t react, Twilight tried to think of something to say. Then she remembered. “But if you didn’t analyze the graphs, then how did you know?”
Sunset sighed and got up. “I’ll just show you.” She paused and held her head. “Stupid aspirin, do your thing already!” She gestured at Twilight. “Come with.”
Twilight followed Sunset down the corridor into the bedroom, Spike on their heels. The bed was unmade, and a nearby desk had two chairs in front of it. Curiously, one half of the surface was completely empty while the other was littered with books, notebooks and used dishes. On the littered half there was also an almost empty bottle of blackberry-flavored vodka and a half-empty glass. There was a certain scent of ethanol in the air; Sunset seemed to notice it too as she hurried to open the window.
“Just a minute or that stench will make me puke again,” Sunset said. Then she picked up a strange book from her desk. It looked a bit like a prop from a fantasy movie—clad in thick leather with carvings and golden letters, somewhat uneven pages of what almost looked like thick parchment. The cover was blackened, perhaps from old age.
Sunset said down on the bed and gestured for Twilight to sit next to her. She complied, but made sure to sit a few inches away from the other girl. Spike leapt onto her lap. Sunset put the tome on her lap and just looked at it for a few seconds; from up close Twilight could see that it was partially scorched. Then she said, “This is a magic book. It is enchanted with a spell that connects it to a similar book, and whatever is written in one of the books appears in the other book as well. You following?”
Twilight nodded, although she felt an instinctive reluctance towards the concept of magic spells. There was no magic, she told herself. Whatever it was this book was capable of, there had to be a scientific explanation for it.
“I brought this book from Equestria when I came here, and Twilight has the other one with her. We used it to text, you could say. But Twilight also used hers to power up the portal. You see, the portal normally only opens every thirty months, when a certain lunar constellation happens both here and in Equestria. Twilight found a way to use her book to power the portal even without the moon, and so she could come visit whenever she liked, not just every thirty months.
“When you destroyed the portal, something happened to this book as well. Look.”
Sunset opened the book, and Twilight saw that almost every page was scorched to various degrees. On some pages she could still decipher the words. She read, You were right—how are we going to make it through those two days? I hadn’t anticipated it to be this hard to be away from you, and, embarrassed, looked away. This was their private business.
Sunset continued, “After the portal went up, I tried writing her.” She opened a page, and Twilight immediately saw that the last message had been written on the paper after it got burned. It read, Twi, please tell me that you made it back home! The portal is destroyed, and so is most of my book. Please be okay. I love you. SS. Twilight looked away. That right there was what she had caused.
“When she didn’t answer, I worried, of course,” Sunset said. “It was the worst feeling in the world. Not knowing if she was okay. Not knowing if—“ She paused. “If she was alive.” She turned to look at Twilight, who averted her gaze.
“So ever since all I had were the messages in this book, at least the ones that I could still read. It was all I had left of her, you understand? I’ve read through this so many times, I know all of them by heart. They’re her, speaking to me, you know? They’re all I had left of her.” She gently caressed the paper. “All the memories of the times when we wrote those things. When things were still alright.”
Please stop, Twilight thought. She wasn’t sure how many more allegations of the pain Sunset had gone through she could take. As if she didn’t know how badly she had messed up! She didn’t need all the details of Sunset’s pain.
Sunset carefully changed to the very first page of the book. “Then this happened last night.” She pointed at the inner cover. There was a dedication, but it had clearly been written before the accident. And there was a new message written right above it—in her own handwriting, Twilight realized.
I can’t believe I didn’t think of this spot! I tried all the pages, so this is really my last hope. I’m alive and well, and I love you too. Just please read this? Twi
And right below it, in a different handwriting: I finally got it. Thank goodness you’re alright. Love you. SS
And below that: So relieved!!! I’m working on a solution, will get back to you. I fear we’ll have to conserve space.
And the last new message, just a single word: Understood.
Sunset pointed at the empty space on the cover page. About half of it had been taken up by the previous dedication and the short exchange, despite their best efforts to write extremely small. “This, Sparkle. This is all there’s left for us to talk to each other. Half a frigging page. This has to be enough for however long enough it takes until she finds a fix.” She swallowed audibly. “If ever.”
“I—“
“We used to fill a couple of pages in one night, easily,” Sunset continued, ignoring Twilight. “I guess I should be grateful that she’s alright, and that we got at least this bit of texting last night, and I am, but… half a page.” She put her hand across her eyes. “Half a page. It was just too much to bear, Sparkle. Getting a message from her and then having to stop right there. It felt so amazing to at least read from her again, and then we had to stop right away.
“So I got drunk, because I couldn’t deal with it, and because I didn’t trust myself to not write her back, you understand? I still don’t think I can deal with it, with finally having a connection to her and not being able to use it.” She looked at Twilight again, and now there were tears in her eyes. “There’s nothing I want to do more right now than write to her, and get a reply, and I can’t do that because we may need this if she comes up with a solution. When she comes up with a solution.”
“Alcohol is not a solution though,” Twilight heard herself say and immediately wanted to kick herself for it. As if Sunset Shimmer wanted to hear that right away.
“Yes, it is, Sparkle,” Sunset said. “When you can’t sleep because all you can think of is how much everything sucks and how much it hurts and how much you want to write yet another tiny message, then drinking yourself senseless is actually a solution because then you stop thinking about it and you’re unable to write anyway and you can at least get some sleep. So kindly take your goody-two-shoes advice and shove it.”
“I’m sorry,” Twilight mumbled. “I…” What was she going to say? That she was in no position to tell Sunset Shimmer how to deal with the pain that she, Twilight herself, had caused her? That she was sure there would be a solution to everything?
How was any of this even adequate?
So she just repeated, “I’m sorry.”
Sunset snorted. “Is that why you came here? Because you feel sorry?” She glared at Twilight. “Or was it for a pat on the head for figuring out the grand mystery all on your own?”
Twilight shrunk back from her sudden anger—especially because her accusation wasn’t too far from the truth, if she was being honest with herself. “I—“
“Eh, whatever. It’s not like I give a damn. Anyway, thanks for giving me a hand earlier, I guess.”
“I really hoped I’d, I don’t know, help you feel a bit better,” Twilight murmured.
Sunset huffed and visibly forced herself to smile. “Appreciated, Sparkle.”
Twilight looked down. “You know, if you ever feel like… like drinking again… could you instead maybe… talk to someone instead? Drinking really isn’t good for you.”
Sunset looked at her, dumbfounded. Then without warning she burst into laughter. “You’re so precious, Sparkle, it’s unreal.” When Twilight continued to look at her, worried, she added, “I’m not going to turn into a raging drunk if that’s what you’re worried about. I… let’s say I know my limits. And considering how crummy I feel right now I’m probably not trying this again anytime soon.” She shrugged. “I don’t need you to save me or anything, okay? It’s really none of your business.”
“Okay. As you wish.” Twilight put Spike on the floor and stood up. She was still worried; there were numerous studies about the adverse effects of underage drinking. But at the same time she didn’t know what else to say when faced with Sunset’s cold dismissal. If she kept nagging her, all she would achieve would be to make Sunset angry. “I should probably get going. Sorry for waking you up.”
Sunset just waved it off. “I’m going back to sleep. You’ll find your way out, right?” Twilight nodded, and Sunset unceremoniously lay down and crawled under her blanket.
Twilight made for the door, but Sunset called her back. “Hey, could you close the window before you go?”
Twilight obliged. When she turned to leave the room again, Sunset had already curled up into a small ball and turned her back to Twilight. She hurried out of the room and away from Sunset Shimmer. Away from all the hurt she was projecting—no, throwing into Twilight’s face, rather. But could she really hold it against Sunset Shimmer that she was still upset and angry with her?
She made sure to close the front door very quietly when she left the apartment.