//------------------------------// // Transit: Upper Canterlot // Story: Teahouses of Saddle Arabia // by Amber Spark //------------------------------// By the time the two of them left the castle grounds, winter had fully descended on Canterlot. The lights of the city reflected off the thick clouds in the dark sky above. Cloudsdale had done a serious number on the capital of Equestria. In fact, a fresh coat of snow covered just about everything. Sunset couldn’t even remember the last time they’d had a winter this white. She didn’t mind. In fact, it was actually pretty nice. Fresh powder coated the streets, scuffed only by the occasional pony’s hooves. With Hearth’s Warming so close, garlands, lights and ivy were out in force, wrapped around every lamp post and store sign. Mistletoe hung at strategic points—probably the work of the famed Princess of Love. She shook the thought away before it could sour her mood. The fresh, crisp air helped calm her mind, though it chilled her even through her coat and scarf. The city bells chimed seven o’clock as yet another snowfall drifted down from the clouds above, the third since they’d left the Spire Lab. She stared up at the lazy flakes of snow as Twilight paid the bill for their dinner in the small cafe halfway down Gleam Street. Twilight had insisted on getting something to eat before they began, in her words, ‘their grand quest.’ She’d also insisted on paying and Sunset hadn’t been in the mood to argue with her. Especially not when Twilight could bring her ‘Adora-Stare’ to bear on Sunset without even thinking about it. Sunset snickered to herself. “‘Adora-Stare.’ I’ll need to remember that.” Too bad you’ll never get to use it. Instead of responding, Sunset sucked another lungful of sharp winter air, then amused herself with how she could potentially weaponize the Adora-Stare. The door behind her jingled and Twilight trotted out, her breath fogging in the crisp Canterlot evening. With a smile, she floated over an immense travel mug of Earl Grey tea to Sunset. The smile faltered a little when Twilight dropped the levitation spell only for Sunset to catch it a split-second later. It was a routine they’d practiced hundreds of times to prevent a repeat of… the previous incident in the RCAt. It was almost second nature by now. Almost. “So, where do we start?” Sunset asked, turning her attention away from the always-awkward attempt to avoid reenacting the spell that had bound them together a month ago in the RCA. “I know a few places, but I’m guessing you know about a thousand more.” Sunset didn’t mention that she did remember a few that she had never actually heard of. Yet another side effect of that damn spell in the RCA that had made both of their lives so complicated. What’s worse, she was sure Twilight knew it. After all, she’d gotten hit just as hard as Sunset. Twilight took a gulp of her green tea—decaf, of course—and her horn burst with raspberry light. A scroll appeared beside her and unrolled with almost casual ease. Her eyes danced along the first few lines of the parchment. “I think we should start with Basil Blitz Books,” Twilight declared as she levitated out a large pretzel and took a dainty bite out of it. “It’s off Cherryday Lane. Should be just around the corner.” “Lead the way,” Sunset said, gesturing forward with a hoof. “You’re the guide tonight.” Twilight giggled happily and trotted through the snow. Even her tail bounced with every step. The mare almost looked like she was about to start skipping. Sunset shook her head and smiled despite herself. Forget about weaponizing that stare. Just weaponize her. Nopony would ever challenge Equestria ever again! Sunset paused and rolled her eyes at herself. Not that we’ve been challenged in centuries, but still! With a sigh, she hurried forward and fell into step beside Twilight as they passed another light post. “So, tell me about this place.” “I’ve actually been to this one plenty of times,” Twilight admitted as they stepped aside for a pair of scampering fillies and their bedraggled looking parents. “Jade Singer used to bring me here all the time. Basil Blitz, the owner, doesn’t just deal with old books, but he also has the equipment to keep that crazy old typewriter of hers running.” Sunset shook her head and blew a few snowflakes away from her muzzle. “I still can’t believe Jade Singer uses a mechanical method of writing instead of writing by horn. I mean, if she were an earth pony or a pegasus, I could understand it, but unicorns using typewriters… it’s just odd.” “You saw her study!” Twilight said. “She’s very dedicated to her craft. And she likes everything just so. She once told me most writers she knows are very particular about where and how they write. She doesn’t trust the flexible ones. Anyway… isn’t her study fantastic?” So very fantastic. You saw it all, didn’t you? Every inch... two weeks after Twilight brought Moon Dancer there. Doesn’t it feel nice to get second place? Especially since you know you’ll always be there? Never to be first again… at least not as far as she’s concerned. Sunset gritted her teeth and shoved the words aside. She needed to stay focused on the positive. She could have fun with Twilight. She would have fun with Twilight! They approached a flickering street lamp, the spell inside obviously failing somehow. It sent out strange bursts of violet light across the snowy cobbles as the other lights around it kept up their steady white light. “Anything else I should know about this place?” Sunset said, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice and probably failing miserably. Thankfully, Twilight didn’t seem to notice as she nibbled on her pretzel. “It seemed pretty normal last time I was there. Nothing too crazy or wild or anything. He carries some first-editions, but only some. The chances of finding the book are low, but he can probably point us in the right direction. Other than that, we probably won’t find anything exciting in there.” Sunset smirked to herself. “Twilight?” “Hm?” “Didn’t you once tell me about Sir Flat Earth’s ‘Theory of Narrative Causality?’” “Uh… yeah?” Twilight glanced back at her, the flickering violet light reflecting oddly in her glasses. “What about it?” “Don’t you actually take that whole thing seriously?” Sunset prodded, taking a long sip of her tea. “Sort of…?” Twilight hedged, her ears flicking up and down. “It’s primarily used to explain events in narrative prose. Such as the classic example of a ‘million-to-one-shot’ always finding its mark.” “Or maybe something like, ‘we probably won’t find anything exciting in there’ practically guaranteeing we’ll find something in there?” “Oh.” Twilight paused mid-stride, then glanced at Sunset with a vaguely awkward look on her face. “Well, it’s supposed to explain things in fiction, Sunset. Not real life.” “Uh-huh.” Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Come on!” Twilight cried. “Sunset, you can’t be serious!” “This coming from the mare who named her coffee table ‘Tuesday,’” Sunset muttered under her breath before finally relenting. “Sure, Twilight. Whatever you say.” Twilight snorted and continued down the street, muttering to herself. However, Sunset couldn’t help but notice that the mare seemed to be glancing around a bit more than she had a few moments ago. It was almost as if she were on the lookout for something strange to suddenly happen. Sunset wanted to laugh. Instead, she only smiled faintly. She’d seen enough as Celestia’s student to make her think there might just be something to the Theory of Narrative Causality in the real world. Still, seeing Twilight occasionally glancing up for no good reason was pretty cute. Stop that. She glared at her hooves and shoved the unwelcome thoughts out of her head—again—but in that brief moment, she heard Twilight yelp. Sunset’s head jerked up, but it took only a second to put things together. Twilight had been so busy watching the sky she hadn’t been watching where she was going as she tried to turn the corner. Sadly, a shy-looking gray earth pony had suffered the consequences. Why didn’t the other mare see Twi spacing out? Sunset wondered. “Oh my gosh!” Twilight cried as she scrambled to her hooves and lifted the mare from the snow with a pulse of raspberry magic. “I’m so sorry! I got lost in my own head and wasn’t paying any attention!” The gray earth pony brushed the snow off her coat and scarf, then smiled sweetly as Sunset hurried up to them. “Mmhmm. It’s okay.” Twilight all but attacked the mare with her magic, scraping off the snow so violently she threatened to yank off the girl’s coat. “Twilight,” Sunset said with what she hoped was a disarming grin at the mare. “I think she’s good now.” “Huh?” Twilight blinked a few times and looked the mare up and down. “Right! Sorry. Little… frazzled.” “Mmhmm,” she replied with a small, kind smile. “It’s okay. No harm done.” “Can I make it up to you?” Twilight pleaded. Sunset fought hard to keep from facehoofing. “No.” She shook her head, her twin gray bangs fluttering around her. “I’d been looking around and wondering where my sister had gone… oh! Over here!” Sunset could have sworn the mare hadn’t raised her voice at all, but further down the street was a pink pony in a granite-colored jacket and cap staring into a closed baking supply store. Streams of long, straight pink hair fell around her face and shoulders. She glanced their way, seemed to whisper something to herself, then slowly walked up to them. Sunset couldn’t help but notice that the pony kept her sister between herself and Twilight and Sunset. “We should go,” the gray mare said quietly with a nod and a little smile at the two of them. “Have a nice Hearth’s Warming.” “You too!” Twilight cried. “Yeah… you, too…” Sunset mumbled as she watched the pink pony follow her sister. Something… felt off about her. The pink mare looked skittish. Still, she didn’t look… she didn’t seem unhappy, just… “Sunset?” As the two ponies disappeared around the next corner, they both offered Twilight and Sunset small smiles. And Sunset had this strange sense that the pink one should have a much bigger smile. What, you’re empathic now? Or is this fortune-telling? Why do you care if some random earth pony is smiling enough or not? To Sunset's annoyance, she couldn’t come up with an answer to that question. Still, despite that, Sunset couldn’t shake the feeling that pony should have been smiling like Minuette. “Sunset, you coming?” “Oh, yeah,” Sunset said, turning around to give Twilight an awkward smile of her own. “Yeah, right behind you.” “You okay?” she cocked her head. “Yeah, just… spaced out there for a moment. Let’s go. Sooner we find this book, the better.”  Twilight nodded and headed back down the snowy street. However, within half a minute, she was muttering and cursing herself for being so distracted that she’d actually knocked somepony over. By now, Sunset knew better than to try to talk her down. Twilight would work it out of her system soon enough. They walked along the snowy street for a short time. A few late shoppers rushed by them, but for the most part, the street remained empty. During those quiet times, with the soft hush of the snow falling all around them, it felt like Sunset and Twilight were the only ponies in all the world. Hm. It’s almost romantic, isn’t it? Too bad— “So, anything else I should know about this place?” Sunset said far too quickly. Only then did she remember she’d already asked that. She mentally facehoofed. She nearly did it physically, too, but stopped herself at the last moment. Instead, she took another massive gulp of the scalding tea she’d nearly forgotten about. Twilight eyed her over her own tea. “Sunset? Are you sure you’re okay?” “Of course!” Sunset chirped. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “Because right now you sound a lot like an awkward Minuette. In fact, I’m pretty sure the voice you just used qualifies as a chirp.” “I never chirp,” Sunset huffed. “Never. Anyway, shouldn’t you be feeling bad about knocking over random ponies in the street?” “It was an accident,” Twilight replied in a voice that sounded suspiciously chirpy—and devoid of self-doubt, meaning she’d worked out her ‘guilt’ over the mishap. “And I’m pretty sure that was a chirp.” “No, you’re the chirpy one between the two of us.” Sunset turned a smug grin on her friend. “I am not!” “Really?” Sunset needled. “That sounded a bit like a chirp back there!” “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Twilight huffed with a stomp of her hoof. “No idea at all! I’m perfectly calm all the time. In fact, it’s physically impossible for me to chirp. I am—of course—not a bird. I am a pony. Ponies speak. They do not chirp, or tweet or any sort of—” “They sing,” Sunset pointed out and prompted sipped. “…that’s different!” Twilight insisted. “Singing is a natural expression of Harmony in ponies! It does not give me bird-like qualities of any kind! Nor does any other part of my anatomy!” “If you say so, Twi.” Sunset smirked. “If you say so.” Twilight huffed and took a few mouthfuls of her tea. Warm lamps covered in garlands lined the narrow street. About a block away, Sunset could see a large book sign jutting out over a medium-sized shop with large display windows frosted with snow. As she watched, a cloaked pony with a red and light purple mane hurried out of the shop, glanced around. She froze for a second when she caught sight of the two of them, then put up her hood and trotted off. “Ooh!” Twilight squealed—but definitely didn’t chirp. “There it is!” “Wait a second!” Sunset protested, holding up her hoof to stop Twilight before she could run off. “How is singing a natural expression of Harmony?” Twilight stopped on the sidewalk and turned to Sunset as if she had just asked how the sun rose every morning. “Sunset… come on.” Twilight shook her head, apparently convinced Sunset was screwing around with her. “It’s basic Harmony Theory. It’s built into the magic of the world.” “Yes, I know all that.” Sunset sighed. Then she began to recite, “‘Harmony is the most crucial element of the magical framework of reality. Without it, magic couldn’t exist. Life couldn’t exist, at least not in any form ponykind knows.’ But what does that have to do with singing?” “I’m sure you’re just playing with me.” Twilight shook her head and continued trotting down the deserted, snow-laden sidewalk toward the bookstore. “I refuse to believe you don’t know this subject. You’re friends with Coloratura, for pony’s sake!” “And her music is magical,” Sunset admitted. “But I—” Twilight froze in her tracks, then turned to give her a wide, toothy grin. “You still chirped.” Sunset winced. Dammit! I almost got away with it! “Oh, you almost had me.” Twilight giggled. “Well done, Sunset. You’re getting good at this.” Hardly, her angry little pony opined. Once upon a time, you could have spun this conversation around without even thinking about it. Pathetic. Leave me alone, Sunset snapped in the privacy of her own head as Twilight trotted for the front doors. You’ll be glad for the company soon enough, it whispered. And what’s that supposed to mean? I’m not sure. You were just discussing Narrative Causality. Why don’t you figure it out? The voice laughed and she felt it retreat into the shadows of her head. Despite herself, Sunset shivered. She tightened her scarf and adjusted her jacket before following Twilight to the book store entrance.