We've been feeding on the restaurant's patrons for almost a solid five minutes before I notice her.
Most of the people in the room are yelling at each other over the most ridiculous trivialities, of course, as usual. A few, stronger-willed or maybe just too lost in their own heads to lash out at others, are restricting themselves to angry facial expressions and the occasional bit of grumbling under their breaths.
And amid it all, sitting alone at a two-person table near the entrance, a girl with orange skin and red-and-yellow hair is eating while scribbling in a notebook, a small smile on her face, as though the sum of the magic my fellow Sirens and I can call up on this miserable world isn't doing a thing to her. It would be frustrating, if it weren't so interesting.
"Mind if I join you?" I ask, sitting down in the chair facing her before she can reply.
The girl chews slowly on her mouthful of human food for a few seconds before answering, while Sonata and Aria move to stand behind my shoulders. Finally, she swallows. "So you're the ones behind the fighting, then."
"We are. And you're the one who's completely resisted the effect." I stare into her eyes.
"Effect? Wait, you have magic here? I mean, magic is real?" Her brief slip of the tongue tells me everything I need to know, no matter how well she recovers afterwards.
"Obviously," Aria grumbles from my right.
"How does it work?"
"Welll, we sing, and—" I cut Sonata's answer off by putting my hand over her mouth.
"Tell you what," I tell the girl. "You tell me how you managed to avoid falling under our spell, and I'll tell you the basics of how it works." I already have a pretty good idea of the big picture—she's another of Equestria's droppings into this world, no doubt, protected from our spell by the traces of magic that remain inside her—but hearing her own response will be illuminating.
"I was wondering the same thing. When everypo- everybody started fighting, I expected to be joining in with them soon, and to need to track you down after the fact. Instead, you left me alone. Or, I suppose, I was immune? Given your question." She sounds more like she's thinking out loud than like she's talking to me at this point, scribbling furiously in her notebook as she goes. "If your magic needs to penetrate the brain-spell barrier, then that would do it, but that sort of spell design is hundreds of years out of date... but, on the other hoof, magic is much rarer here, and it's not as though the spells back home tended to be remotely competently designed even with an active research community..."
I cough, and she looks up and seems to remember exactly where she is. "That answer is more than adequate," I tell her. "Equestria just can't seem to keep its problems to itself, can it? First the three of us, now you and whatever it is you've done to get banished here."
She snorts. "Banished? As if. I came here over the objections of Princess Celestia."
Princess Celestia, is it? It had been over a thousand years ago, but I had once upon a time had reason to study Equestrian politics, and the name sounds vaguely familiar. Some pony from all the way back before our banishment? One who ended up being particularly influential, I suppose, if pony princesses are still being named after her after so many years.
The presumably-a-former-pony stares up at me. "Now then. You were going to tell me about your magic." A tinge of anger remains in her voice. The circumstances in which she came here are a sore spot for her, then. Good to know.
"Of course. The three of us, when we sing, have the power to incite animosity and conflict among those who hear us." I neglect to mention that we've been vastly weakened since our banishment; if the ex-pony underestimates us for it and thinks that our showing in this restaurant is the best we're capable of, all the better.
The ex-pony raises an eyebrow, before directing an annoyed glance at the crowd as one of its members starts screeching particularly loudly at another. "Do you want to take this conversation somewhere else?"
"Not particularly," Aria says.
"What she means to say," I tell the pony, "is that, after we put all the effort we did into starting this fight, we'd very much like to see it through to its conclusion. We would, of course, be happy to meet up to continue this discussion later. Wouldn't we, girls?"
Aria gives a half-nod half-shrug, while Sonata seems to be too distracted trying to read the pony's notes upside down to give me any response. Close enough.
"That works. Here's the address of my apartment." The ex-pony scribbles briefly on a new page of her notebook, then tears it out and hands it to me. "Tell the front desk that you're visiting Sunset Shimmer, and they'll buzz you in." With that, she stands up and leaves.
We exchange more information, over the following meeting. Sunset Shimmer, it transpires, was the student of Princess Celestia, who isn't merely a descendant of Star Swirl's apprentice, but is in fact the very same pony, unaging a thousand years later. She came here in order to learn more about the local magic, in defiance of Celestia, who she insists was trying to keep her from becoming too powerful. (To me, it sounds far more like she was trying to teach Sunset the same sort of high-powered friendship magic that Star Swirl and his cronies used to banish us; but all the better for us if Sunset has such a convenient target for her anger.) She, in turn, learns about our own history, first as the magnificent and all-beloved rulers of our domain, and then as nobodies in this backwater of a world, very slowly regaining our relevance as time goes by and large audiences become easier to cultivate and enrage. She explains her plans: to bide her time in this world, build up her resources, and when Celestia has let her guard down to return and make herself the ruler of Equestria that she thinks she deserves to be. In return, we explain ours: to regain our former power, and turn this world's denizens into our adoring thralls.
(Sonata, after getting bored with the history discussion, spends most of the meeting raiding Sunset's freezer for ice cream and cookies. Aria stays, but doesn't contribute anything besides the occasional pointless complaint. Sometimes I struggle to remember why I keep those two around, especially when a conversation partner who can actually keep up with me is right there.)
By the evening, a single conclusion has become clear: we can help each other. Sunset has never cared about this world except as a sandbox for her magical experiments and a refuge from her princess, and I, for my part, find ruling a backwater to be a perfectly satisfying prospect and don't see any reason to court further enmity with Equestria and its actually-powerful magic-users when said backwater is here for the taking. (Aria doesn't contradict me, when I lay our side of things out for Sunset. Even she can eventually listen to reason, given a few centuries for a point to sink in.)
It's strange, exchanging information so freely after so long with no confidantes besides the other two Sirens. Freeing, in a way. I hope this alliance, such as it is, doesn't crash and burn too quickly.