//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: On the Bright Side // Story: Lend Me Your World // by Superdale33 //------------------------------// Adagio held her ear to the door. The low echo of the empty chamber raised her frustration up a notch. They walked across town and climbed a mountain, and this was their reward. An observatory. There was plenty of reasons to scream, especially after enduring the others’ constant whining, but Adagio swallowed it down. There was more to it. They would find what they were looking for. She closed her eyes, taking in every little sound. Her heartbeat drummed in her head. “Should we be here?” Sonata whispered. Adagio turned her glare to her. There was no confusion or indecision. Her eyes darted around, biting her bottom lip while stroking her ponytail. Aria stood beside her with a hand on her hip. She couldn’t be bothered to look in their direction. “Why shouldn’t we be here?” Adagio asked, grating her teeth. “This place is supposed to be… h-haunted,” Sonata said, hunching her shoulders. Aria whipped around to her, brow raised. “How would you know if it’s haunted?” Aria questioned, stepping to her, arms in the air. Sonata fiddled with her collar to nestle in her sweatshirt, eyes firmly to the pavement. “I read it in the newspaper,” Sonata said. “They cleared everyone out and closed it down.” “You spend your free time reading the newspaper?” Aria asked, rolling her eyes. “Not on getting money so we can eat?” “Can’t be working all the time,” Sonata said. “I mean, what if we stumbled upon a haunted bench? You’d want to know, right?” The two were hopeless. Adagio had to bang her head against the door to accept that. Seeing the gremlin had posed the question, but there at the observatory made it official. They couldn’t feel the Darkness like she could. Not how it draped over her like a robe of royalty, nor how it tickled the skin as it danced around them. “It doesn’t matter if the observatory is haunted,” Adagio snapped. She settled her ear back against the cool metal. There was a thought whether it was worth to indulge them. She huffed. “That thing from before is Darkness, and this place is filled to bursting with it.” “So you keep saying,” Aria said. Adagio sagged against the door, already hearing more complaints bounce in her head. “We haven’t felt any ‘Darkness.’ This whole trip has been a waste.” “Aria,” Adagio said pleasantly, turning enough to look to her. Aria averted her gaze, taking a small step back. Her expression was still rock solid. “What would you propose we do instead, hmm?” “I-I like the Darkness idea,” Sonata said with a wave, straining a smile. “Go back to Equestria through the portal,” Aria muttered, rubbing the back of her head. Adagio narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Oh, brilliant, amazing,” Adagio said. “Wonder why I haven’t thought of that myself! You know why?” Aria opened her mouth. Adagio pushed off from the door to get in her face, jabbing a finger to her chest. “Because the girls at that high school have the portal! You think they’ll let us stroll through like we never tried to take control of this stupid world? Even if we do get to Equestria, our gems were destroyed. We’d be no better there! Any other enlightening ideas?” Aria shrunk down, wrapping her arms around herself. It sent a jolt through Adagio. Seeing Aria put in her place always put her in a good mood. She eyed Sonata and internally begged for her to speak up with another trivial tidbit. Instead, Sonata pursed her lips, as though forcing herself to stay quiet. Adagio grunted, “This is why I’m in charge.” She reached for the handle and threw open the door. Vines twisted and tangled themselves over the walls and dome ceiling, riddled with thorns. It blocked the outside world, as though grown for that intention. Even as the three shuffled inside, there was very little of the observatory itself. What little light broke through dimly illuminated the floor and telescope. It radiated with Darkness. Adagio drew closer, catching an insignia etched onto its side. An emerald fire raged in front of her. She backpedaled back to the other two, holding up a hand to block the heat. When it died down, a woman bore down over them, transparent like a specter. No other word described her better than dominant. The horns, the staff, the cloak itself; She rose high and mighty above them, and a chill ran through Adagio. The woman swept her gaze over them, indifferent, “There is nothing for you here. Begone.” “W-who are you?” Sonata asked. “Be silent!” she cried, rising her arms as fire enwreathed her. The flames licked at the Dazzlings, and they recoiled even further away. Sonata covered her face, shivering. “If you value your lives, you will leave at once!” Adagio almost did just that. Her legs tensed, wanting to push off to get as far away as possible. Her mind kept them in place, paralyzed, and she had to steel herself. “I want the Darkness,” she said, suddenly finding it difficult to breath. “Let me have it.” The inferno still burned with no end. Adagio wasn’t sure if the woman would incinerate them where they stood. However, the heat faded until the woman held an ounce of intrigue. She still didn’t care for them. Adagio could tell, and wasn’t sure what to do about it. “The Darkness has lead you here,” the woman said. Her eyes pierced through Adagio, searching her very soul. Something amused her as a smile crept up. “You will refer to me as Maleficent.” Adagio nodded, standing straight as a board and taking tiny, slow steps closer. Aria and Sonata stayed rigid, bowing their heads to avoid facing Maleficent. “Tell me,” Maleficent said, holding her staff with both hands. “Why is it you desire Darkness?” Adagio opened her mouth, hesitated, then took in a deep breath, “Revenge.” “Ah,” Maleficent said, tilting her head away. “You are of no use to me.” A door had slammed in Adagio’s face. The Darkness still beckoned her onward, except at the moment, it toyed with her, mocked her. Her hands clenched into fists. “You have no right-!” “I have every right, Siren,” Maleficent said, her gaze as cold as ice. Adagio nearly swallowed her tongue. “Magic might hide you from others but not me. As for your request, I have no use for you three. Only one of you seeks Darkness for revenge, the rest are merely pawns, and it shows very clearly.” Impatience layered her words, and they were aimed firmly at Adagio. Maleficent regarded them again. Aria and Sonata glanced to Adagio, for a response or an order, she didn’t know. Adagio sat at an impasse, refusing to back down but also refusing to speak up. “Now, take your revenge elsewhere,” Maleficent said, with a dismissive flourish of her fingers. “The Heartless prey on the weak, and I have grander intentions for them than that.” Whatever elegance she presented fell to a grimace. Her throat rumbled, and Adagio stiffened. “Enter.” The entrance creaked open, allowing light to pour in, and a bulky, cat-like person shifted into view. A few seconds was enough for Adagio to grimace herself. His outfit did little to hide his fat. If Maleficent didn’t resent their presence, Adagio would have some choice words for him. “Are ya done?” he asked, shirking down as his eyes zipped between the Dazzlings and Maleficent. “I heard ya had some guests and figured I’d stay put until they-” “Forget them, fool,” Maleficent exclaimed. “Recall the Tricksters. My plan is coming to fruition, and their purpose is needed elsewhere.” “Wait, what?” he said, resting his large hands on hips. He passed through the Dazzlings, muttering, before standing before Maleficent. “I thought we were raidin’ that there orchard. You know, the one you had me scout? There’s plenty of research there!” “Orchard?” Adagio whispered to herself. Maleficent shifted her gaze to her before turning back to Pete. “Irrelevant,” Maleficent said. “The Heartless have spread enough turmoil. The seed I have planted at that wretched school has sprouted. There will be no need for any of that research.” Pete growled, “Yeah, waste my time, why don’tcha. You going to even explain what your ol’ plan is anyway? Does it involve these three?” “Hardly,” Maleficent said sharply. Once again, the look she gave was enough indication for Adagio to take her leave. It came far more naturally to her than earlier. Every step alleviated the tension, until she stood out in the sun again. Aria and Sonata sighed, a hand to their forehead as though they had evaded a grizzly fate. As soon as the door closed, Adagio got a good look at the observatory again. The Darkness still concentrated there, even when the metal walls and congruent wires were untouched and benign. The telescope, jutting out of the dome, magnified the power she sought. “Like I said,” Aria said, walking past. “A waste of time.” Heartless, orchard, school; three terms that Adagio rolled over in her head. It wasn’t hard to determine what Maleficent intended to do. She wasn’t as cool as she wanted to seem. “So…” Sonata said. Her hands held together as she managed a small smile. She was relieved. Adagio didn’t like it one bit. “Back to finding money?” “Actually,” Adagio said, “we’re going to wait her out.” “Maleficent?” Aria said, stomping back to her. “Are you crazy? She’ll get what she wants and take off.” Adagio picked out the buildings and structures from their view atop the mountain. An apple orchard at the far edge of town, opposite the observatory, and Canterlot High School were immediately noticeable to her. She smirked, “Oh, I think she’ll have a little more trouble than she bargained for.” For once, Sunset wished the cafeteria wasn’t so rambunctious. The battle against the Heartless the other day still made the rounds. It drew classmates to speculate and make their own inferences. They made every moment out of class lively, though much harder to do anything else. Even as Sunset sat up straight, poised with hands intertwined on the table, the general buzz became less and less background noise. “Did you see a guy there next to Sunset Shimmer?” “I hope I don’t have to face those things myself.” “What if those dark beings are based off our nightmares?” “There’d be more clowns, if that was the case.” “Rarity! Use your magic like before!” That knocked Rarity out of her thoughts. Pondering Sunset’s request was one thing, but to fall into her mind for a full minute was another. The lack of privacy didn’t ease Sunset either, not that she didn’t have a choice. Lunch was the only time Rarity was available, and she finally recognized she hadn’t given Sunset an answer. “I do appreciate the gesture, darling,” Rarity said, toying with her broccoli with a fork. “But didn’t I tell you not to work yourself over the centerpiece? We already agreed you have far more important matters on your hands.” They hadn’t agreed on anything, as Sunset recalled, her fingers tightening. Rarity merely pushed Sunset for it, even though it sounded more like a rejection of her help. She took a deep breath, her face softening. There was never any spite from Rarity. To hold a grudge against her was petty. “Sora wants to help,” Sunset said, focusing on Rarity’s eyes, how they furrowed ever so slightly. “He’s collected a lot of crystals and gems from his travels. There’s bound to be one to work as a centerpiece.” Rarity hummed, “Better than my own?” Sunset blinked, mind running blank. Her immediate response was far too backhanded, but any other left her stuttering. She broke eye contact to focus on her hands. “Oh, I’m teasing, of course,” Rarity giggled. Sunset forced a smile, though relief still flooded her body. There was a brief pause as Rarity mulled the proposition over with a hand to her cheek. “Sora is still a phantom, correct?” “Technically, yes,” Sunset answered, rubbing the back of her neck. “But we know his stuff scattered when I brought him here. Fluttershy found one herself, so we’re bound to stumble on more.” That was the promise yielded from discovering the Heartbinder. In truth, there was no guarantee they would find another item, let alone an item that would make for a good centerpiece. Sunset had to look to Sora at the head of the table. His arms were crossed, staring intently at the table. He knew the risk as well as her. He caught her stare and smiled brightly. That same reassurance, that same smile. Sunset eased her shoulders, far lighter than before. “There might be a lot going on,” Sunset said, reaching out to rest her hand on top of Rarity’s. “But Sora and I are willing to help. Plus, it’s hard to tell him no.” “You two are inseparable,” she said with a knowing look. Sunset retracted her hand, a sheepish smile spreading under her blush. “Very well. I trust you, both of you. Why, if there’s anyone who would want to rectify a mistake, I’d be hard pressed to find another person like you, Sunset.” She quickly cleared her throat, glancing behind her as she leaned over. “Don’t tell the other girls that.” There was an alternative motive to the promise, but to make that promise still made Sunset fuzzy on the inside. Sora reflected it more outwardly by pumping his fist. Rarity balked at him, cross but curious. The fuzziness intensified as Sunset stood, gesturing to him. “Rarity, meet Sora,” she said. He waved and brandished that wholesome grin that Sunset was all too familiar with. “My little distraction over the last week.” “Really?” Sora said, his arms hanging limp beside him. “That’s how you introduce me?” “I’m just telling the truth,” Sunset said with a sly smirk. “I didn’t say you were a bad distraction.” Sora nudged his nose, “It’s more the implication. If anything, you get distracted too easily.” “If you say-” Sunset started before Rarity jumped out of her seat to Sora. “...So.” He jerked back, but Rarity stuck close, narrowing her eyes. She dipped a hand to her pocket and withdrew her red sewing glasses. Sunset wasn’t sure what to say, but Rarity scrutinized his sleeve, every hem and seam, and it became clear. Sunset chuckled. “Is clothing all you think of?” she asked. Her classmates watched them, and though it dampened her teasing, having Sora uncomfortable with the situation made up for it. “Is she into clothing?” Sora asked. Rarity gestured for him to stretch his arm out, which he did reluctantly. “Yes, but she doesn’t do this to everyone she meets,” Sunset said, shuffling around the table to them. Rarity glanced to her. “You must have very special clothing.” “Indeed,” Rarity said. She was to the point, never dawdling on any patch of his jacket. “Where did you get your attire?” Sora looked to Sunset, still unsure, but she waved him along. “Master Yen Sid,” he said. Rarity hummed and took a step back. Sunset would have intervened, give Sora some slack. Instead, she propped herself against the table with a smile. “Oh, he’s a master alright,” Rarity said with a nod. She shot up to his face with a smile rivaling Pinkie. “A master tailor!” She lost herself in excited giggles, twisting around as though she had struck gold. Sunset and Sora looked to one another. His grimace told her to step in. She had her fun. “I think it’s time-” Sunset said, raising a hand. “Oh! It’s all so clean,” Rarity said, clapping her hands together. “The composition must be a blend of cotton and denim. Though it wouldn’t explain how fluid the fabric is. Perhaps there’s silk or linen, but that would saturate the adhesion. It may even be a material I’ve never seen before. And his outfit is made entirely of it!” “Uh Rarity?” “Much like your unorthodox appearance, you must involve magic. Though given your travels, it should come as no surprise. There has to be an apt comparison to spring off.” She took another gander at Sora before replacing her glasses with her phone. A check at the screen made her tense. “Oh my word, I need to meet Pinkie at the gym!” she took a few more hasty bites of her broccoli, contorting from the taste, and swallowed it down with her bag in hand. “You simply must visit me when you’re less, er, spectral, Sora. Your attire is modern, a breath of fresh air, and its secrets will be mine. I will not take no for an answer. Until then, ta-ta!” And she was off, hurrying with long strides and with a few gawkers. More from the scene than anything else. That was what Sunset concluded because she was no different. No words escaped her mouth. She wasn’t even sure how to process that. “You sure Pinkie is the hyper one?” Sora asked, sidling up to her. “I swear she isn’t all about clothing,” Sunset said, holding up her hands with an apologetic smile. A few chuckles escaped her. “She can get off topic easily, but she’s actually down to earth.” Sora crossed his arms with a smirk, “Hey, I don’t mind. Your friends are really great.” “I guess after everything you’ve been through, eccentric friends is the norm.” “More or less,” Sora said. He grunted, giving a thumbs up and a wink. “But hey! We got Rarity to see me!” “Right,” Sunset said, crouching to her bag. With notebook in hand, she stood and paced to the side, engrossed in the progress they made. There was a certain swing to her legs, almost prancing around Sora, who eyed her curiously. He leaned to get a peek of her notebook. “What do you have there?” he asked. Sunset turned it around to show the timetables and strategies that filled the paper. There was some satisfaction when Sora read it with awe. “Rarity only had time to talk as soon as the lunch period started,” Sunset said, turning the notebook back to herself. “Applejack is free until classes resume, and Rainbow Dash is training right before then. If we play our cards right, you’ll be seen by the two of them and hopefully get your real body back before the end of school. Even if that doesn’t work, Twilight - the princess, not the one you know - offered to come over to evaluate the situation. There’s also getting you to write down more tips on fighting Heartless.” “That’s a lot,” Sora said. So simple, yet it derailed Sunset’s train of thought. His awe had shifted to concern, an expression that gripped her heart and left her wanting to know why. “Well, yeah, it’s a lot,” she said, her mind still reeling. The careful writing didn’t fill her with hope as it had last night. “When it comes to you, there’s nothing ‘few’ about it. We can knock this out of the park in less than an hour.” “But…” Sora said, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s taking it really fast. Too fast.” It was as though Sora had curbed her motivation. There was no complaint from him earlier, and if anything, he should have danced in joy at the work she put into getting through it “too fast.” She slammed her notebook on the table with a look that got him to recede. “This is to get you fully back to reality, back to your friends,” Sunset said, pushing her palms to him. “Not to mention Maleficent and her Heartless are out there, plotting against us. We need your help.” “Did you plan to eat?” Sora asked. Once again, Sunset lost where her argument went, blinking at him. “You were already at school before it started, and you skipped breakfast too.” There was a lot to shout at him, the topmost being she didn’t need any food. What arose clearly in her mind, however, was Princess Twilight’s advice last night in her bed. It tapered her anger, returning that wedge to split into her heart and fester. Always have a plan. Even if it backfires, planning takes away the worry. It won’t wash away your regret, but it’ll ease it. Sunset had recited that in her head as a mantra, working hours into the night to plan and get Sora back fully and active. To have a real smile from him. Regret propped up again and constrained her. She needed an escape, a breather. “Meet me in the music room,” Sunset said. Sora raised his head an inch, but didn’t protest. It helped Sunset had a look that she didn’t want to discuss it. What didn’t help was his empty stare. “I need to talk to Wallflower about… plants.” It was a lame excuse, but she didn’t care. A simple glance to the side was enough to see the cafeteria watch with both confusion and concern. The discussion itself took a blow to her confidence, and it made a whole new scene to gawk at. She growled and marched off. Her plans were up in the air, but the reason for those plans was at the forefront of her mind. She pushed through the door to the barren hallway. Her head was hot, her hands shook, and she wanted nothing more than to banish the thought plaguing her. A part of her wished she hadn’t brought Sora into her world. That was the line of thought that got her to confess to Twilight. Admitting that part of her, bringing so much trouble to her friends, manifested a pain in her chest. That same pain reared its ugly head again, and was much worse when she couldn’t get Sora out of her mind. There came a knock at the door, and Principal Celestia was glad for it. Hours contemplating the monsters had left her desperate for explanations, solutions, or any knowledge to address it. She rounded her desk to the door and swung it open. Luna, holding a folder to her chest, reeled back, eyes wide. Celestia kept herself composed, even though she wanted to yank Luna in to get straight to it. She gestured inside, and Luna walked past with a sideways glance. “I didn’t expect a personal welcome,” she said. The folder was still kept close as Celestia closed the door. She made her way back to her office chair, eager to rip into the folder’s contents. “I understand you are anxious…” “More than anxious, Luna,” Celestia said, falling into her chair. She rolled it to the desk and presented her hand. Luna passed her the folder, lips pursed. Celestia didn’t pay it mind, spreading the contents over her desk. Terms and phrases leapt out to her, recurring and worthy of note. Dark, gremlin-like creatures; a phantom popping in and out of existence, always of a teenage boy; and the fact both instances occurred within days of each others. It was a full report, as Celestia had requested, but even from skimming the lengthier sections, crucial interviews were missing. “Sunset Shimmer and the others,” Celestia said, quirking a brow. Luna stood a little straighter, hands behind her. “You never spoke to them? About any of it? The ones who were always at the center of instances like this?” Luna held her breath, staring ahead. It prodded at Celestia like a student refusing to speak. She filled her lungs, her mind already bubbling with a few choice words, but bit her tongue, steepling her hands instead. They had worked to achieve their positions as the heads of the school, and had done well to maintain them, with patience at the stead. And at the end of the day, Luna was her sister. She didn’t withhold information from her. “You have your reasons, I assume,” Celestia asked. She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the desk. Her eyes flicked across the documents as though she may have missed a vital point. “I do,” Luna said, aloof. It fell away fast as she hugged herself. “Though maybe not for good reasons.” Her tone had a hint of hesitance. Celestia hadn’t heard it in a long time, and it got her to soften. Luna didn’t match her gaze, bowing her head, “Sunset Shimmer had received detention for disruption regarding phantoms only she could see. The next day, she arrived to school early and had fallen because of the same phantoms. I made sure she hadn’t hurt herself, but since then I’ve felt…” Her shoulders tensed with a thousand yard gaze. Either she couldn't describe the feeling or doing so unsettled her. Luna shook herself, tightened her grip on her arms. Celestia pushed herself to her feet, a hand out, but Luna managed a smile. It didn’t relax Celestia. “A certain magic is connected to Sunset,” Luna said. “I knew she was involved with the creatures and the phantom the students had glimpsed.” “Is that not more reason to question them?” Celestia said, trying to keep her voice civil. Her brashness always reared up at the wrong times. She sighed. “You felt this magic and still didn’t seek out what they know.” “They would have told us if it was important,” Luna snapped. Celestia pulled back a tad, enough for Luna to wince and press a hand to her forehead. “They definitely know, and would have told us if we asked, but even if they did, I’m afraid of what they might say.” Celestia couldn’t suppress a groan, closing her eyes to remind herself Luna had her reasons. Though also reminded herself Luna thought they were poor reasons. “Where is this coming from? A hunch?” Celestia asked harshly. Luna bowed her head, shying away like Celestia had chided her when they were children. When she raised her eyes, they pierced Celestia with pure uncertainty, and for an instant, she understood. The feeling vanished as quick as it appeared, but it lingered, even as Luna dug into her pocket. She clenched her hands before holding one out and loosening her grip to allow a keychain to dangle from it. Celestia swallowed, her breath hitched, and watched the keychain pivot. She was unfamiliar with the design. Three diamonds, all sun-yellow and made of glass, attached in a chain before ending with a platinum star. Its center was similar to the night sky, dense with stars and nebulae. Unfamiliar, but its purpose was the same. “Our old master,” Celestia said firmly, though it was hard to stay level. Her emotions were in turmoil following the swell of memories coming from such a small ornament. “It may involve him.” “Precisely,” Luna said. Despite her nature before, fire burned in her to spur her on. Celestia wasn’t surprised. For all his good intentions, there was seldom a good memory associated with him. “You know this isn’t from an accessory store. This is from a keyblade.” Celestia settled back in her chair, a hand running down her face. There was no argument to it. Celestia took the keychain from Luna, and a tingle radiated from it. Light. As their master had always drilled into their head. A ghost of a smile reached her lips. Months of training from him, and they never learned his real name. That should have been the first sign, but they were only teenagers back then. “That magic connection you felt from Sunset,” Celestia said. She wrapped the keychain around her hand to rub her thumb against the star. It was oddly comforting, loosening her insides. “It was similar?” “Yes,” Luna said. “Which is why it was… hard to ask any of them.” “You know you could have come to me,” Celestia said, her voice raising. “I could have asked them myself. You wouldn’t have to deal with it.” Luna nodded slowly, “But you know just as well what it means if it is him.” “We’re not training under him anymore,” Celestia said, tossing the keychain to the desk. It rattled across the documents. She thought she had thrown harder than that, from how her insides boiled. Her brow furrowed to match. “He has no right to appear now to finish it. Maybe in the past, I would have thought different. In fact, If I had left with him, then we could have dealt with these incidents at the school!” “Yeah,” Luna said. So quiet, so reclusive. It knocked Celestia out of her anger, suddenly aware of where every part of her body was. Not a day went by Celestia reminded herself what she could have accomplished as a keyblade master, especially with everything the school went through. She tended to forget Luna was also reminded of that. The way their master only wanted Celestia, regardless of how much Luna had trained… Celestia eyed the documents and the keychain. They needed a course of action, especially with the magic of a keyblade in the works. The monsters meant they couldn’t dally either. She got to her feet yet again, turning to the window, to the school itself. After the last year, there was really only one course of action. “Luna,” Celestia said. Luna snapped to attention. Celestia sighed. “Sister.” That relaxed her, eyeing her with a tilt of her head. “Bring Sunset and her friends here,” Celestia continued. She didn’t want to drag them into this mess, but they were already a part of it, as always. “We have to tell them as soon as possible, regardless of your reasons.” “Very well,” Luna said stiffly. She grunted as she shifted to leave, facing the wall. “I did tell you they weren’t good reasons.” “I’m not in the mood, Luna,” Celestia said, snatching the keychain again. It swung in her hand, entrancing. Their master walked away, a keychain swaying in his grasp. Even as the door clicked shut, her mind replayed that over and over. She really wished it wouldn’t. Something was wrong. A torn tulip lay at the edge of the forest, the pedals a jumble of mush. Wallflower left a note at the yearbook room that she was at the garden. There was no way she would ignore a flower in that condition, especially one well away from the others, forgotten. Sunset hurried through the foliage. It concealed the garden from the school, making it easier for anybody to rampage through without notice. When she reached the clearing, her stomach dropped. One of the three boulders that the garden was built around had been smashed. Large segments had rolled over and flattened surrounding plants. The rest were upturned by gashes cutting into the earth, exposing roots. Dirt coated the scene in a thin layer. Sunset took careful steps, heart beating against her chest. She kept her eyes peeled for the one responsible. Branches were sliced cleanly, lying broken with leaves still attached, and the smell of fertilizer meant it had also been scattered in the chaos. The stepping stones were untouched, guiding Sunset across. Her first thought was who would do such a thing, but it was immediately thrown away when she didn’t see Wallflower Blush, who would have been at the center of it all. Sunset whipped her head at every cluster of plants, any conceivable place to hide. A pool of water reflected the canopy, and it trickled away from a tipped over watering can. Sunset knelt to pull the watering can close. Mud clung to its side, rubbing onto her hand. Wallflower had used it. To have it there, discarded, meant… Sunset couldn’t swallow, couldn’t even breathe. Her hair fell to her face, and she hastily brushed it back behind her ear. Standing was a struggle. Her head was too light to make out anything, even as her eyes scanned the trees. Wallflower had fled into the forest. It made the most sense. Sunset got a few steps in before something hurtled onto the tallest boulder. Paper arms waved around like a jig, legs bounced from one to the other, and those uncaring, yellow eyes pierced her. “Heartless,” she breathed. A flash of anger broke out of her panic. She would have denounced the Heartless, screamed and screamed until she lost her voice. Instead, her rational side had her backpedal and ignore the plants she inadvertently stomped on. The Heartless leapt off its pedestal and plowed through the ground. Sunset jumped aside as it rose back up. Dirt and rocks pelted her. She stifled her anger and ran. To where, to who, she didn’t care. Knotted roots caught her boots. The vegetation was thick enough to hamper her. Every slip up sent a jolt of panic. She spared a glance back. The Heartless persisted. It jumped from one branch to the next, sometimes even springing from the trunks. Sunset charged through the branches to make it back to the parking lot. Canterlot High still stood strong. She raced across the asphalt and to the door. The Heartless nicked her shoulder, staggering her. She got to the door and slipped inside. Sunset hissed in pain, but held the door closed. The Heartless beat against the glass, though its attempts were feeble. She had a moment to asses her injury. Her fingers brushed her shoulder, and clenched her teeth from the sting. It was sensitive but manageable. Another knock against the door nearly toppled her. The Heartless swayed in place from the impact. There came a shallow whistle, loud enough to resonate through the door and halt the Heartless in place. It faced the direction of the whistle before it fell into itself in a dark orb, vanishing. She twisted around to sit on the floor. Her insides were a tangled mess, and her head was heavy. She would have charged back outside to stop her uselessness from crashing down on her anger. Her hands clamped onto her head, and she brought her knees close to her chest. She couldn’t think, not without seeing that Heartless in her mind’s eye. She ran from it, like she ran from the Shadows. Useless. The thought of Wallflower facing that monster… Sunset forced herself to her feet, hands shaking. She had to get her friends. She had to do something. The room rumbled, and for a moment, it broke Sora out of his thoughts. Applejack narrowed her eyes at the vibrating walls until they stopped. There was more energy from her, at least to stay attentive. Minutes of reading had made her lethargic. The same could be said for Sora. The small tremor was nothing more than that. The ceiling consumed his vision, lying at the top of the choir stands with his head resting on his hands. His appearances were still too random to have a conversation with someone, or even appear to reveal himself. Sitting in the same room with Applejack didn’t make him comfortable. “That was weird,” Applejack muttered, shuffling away. She never tore away from the wall itself, as though another tremor would strike. And it did, shaking more violently to jostle Sora from his perch. “That was even weirder,” Sora said. He jumped off the stands to the window. Blinds blocked his view, still swaying under the tremor. He angled to see through a thin space against the sill, spotting green and gray. The same as it had always been. “Sora! Applejack!” Sunset yelled, sliding into the room. Both had a start, spiking their heart rate. A smile and a tease brimmed in Sora, but it fell away when he saw her wide eyes, gasping for air. She was shaken, staring at them as though to plead for their support, and her movements were twitchy enough that she couldn’t stay still, rubbing her hands or looking every which way. Any way to stay moving. “What’s the matter, Sugarcube?” Applejack asked, hurrying to her. She raised a brow. “Wait, did you say Sora? Is that feller here?” “Yes, but it’s not important,” she said. Her breathes were erratic, and it was a miracle she didn’t stutter. Even as Sora closed in, Sunset still had her attention to him. “Sora, the Heartless. I mean, it had to be a Heartless. It was different, but it- it doesn’t matter!” She stomped her foot, holding out her hands. Anger seeped into her panic, furrowing her brow. “Heartless attacked Wallflower! I think she’s…” It was so sudden that Sora couldn’t grasp the gravity of that statement. There should have been a lump in his throat, maybe sweaty palms and a shiver. Instead, he had to turn over the words in his head. “Wallflower,” Sora repeated, stiff and almost emotionless. “Your friend from the yearbook club, right?” “Yes! She’s gone,” Sunset said. Her gaze was downcast, distraught. “I don’t know… what to do.” That hit harder than any Heartless could. Despite the disparity between their emotions, Sora knew what she went through. “Take it easy,” Sora said, holding up a hand. He wished more than ever he could draw it around her. “We’ll get her back. I promise.” “Back up a minute,” Applejack said, rolling her hand, still confused. “A Heartless attacked Wallflower Blush? Like the ones that attacked you, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash?” “No, it was… a variation,” Sunset said, shaking her head. Conflict arose in her expression, wrestling her memories. “It wasn’t a Shadow - the ones from the other day - this had a symbol on it. Almost…” The word was lost on her. She had hand to her head, struggling and desperate to explain it. Sora didn’t press her nor Applejack. They both absorbed the information. To lose a person in this world, especially a friend to Sunset, didn’t sit well with him. Trapped as a ghost left him worthless. He stared at his fingers, and blinked when the room shook once again. “What in tarnation…?” Applejack said before a black vine burst through the window. Glass burst and flew, the three covering their eyes as a shock wave passed over them. The vine slithered along the ceiling, coiling, before thrusting through the wall. A crack split down where it had gone through. The three were aghast. Sora studied it, finding the vine thick and the texture dancing with a blend of blacks, blues, and purples. Thorns jutted in several spots. It had to belong to a Heartless. Another rumble, this one made everyone stumble. Applejack caught herself on the stands, but Sunset tripped and landed on her shoulder. She cried out, and Sora rushed to her side. “What’s going on?!” she asked, pushing herself up. Everything from her tone to her eyes both demanded and prayed for an answer. Sora clenched his teeth. There was a scream, then several more in succession, the hallway overflowed with yells and cries. Crashes further through the school brought more shakes, and another vine slid through the ceiling, knocking down the wiring and lighting. “I wish I could tell you,” Sora said. His mind already brought up tactics and ways to tackle the situation. Each one fell apart when he reminded himself he was only a ghost, an observer. Useless. Applejack crossed his mind. He set a hand on Sunset's shoulder, feeling it move with every breath she took, “We need to get Applejack to see me.”