//------------------------------// // 2 - Drifting Apart // Story: Fahreneigh 451 // by Liquid Truth //------------------------------// Sunset Shimmer woke up with a start, her coat drenched in sweat and her eyes wet with tears. She took a deep shuddering breath and released a cry of misery. As she tried to turn around, she noticed that she couldn’t. Her mind slowly awoken and finally noticed the soft purple coat on her face and a pair of hooves hugging her head tight. “Twilight?” Twilight crooned and gently caressed her mane. “Hush, Sunset. It’s just a nightmare.” Sunset cried freely. “N-no, no it wasn’t.” “It’s about yesterday, then?” “I killed her, Twilight!” Twilight draped a purple polycarbonate wing over her wife. “It was an accident, Sunset.” “I could’ve stopped it! I should’ve been more careful with the igniter. I should’ve gripped her tighter under my wing!” Twilight said no more, simply caressing her and keeping her in a reassuring hug. The crying finally stopped, and Sunset looked up. Her eyes met with Twilight’s own, in-between them a pair of reading glasses. She looked to her side, finding a book sitting on the nightstand and the digital clock telling three o’clock. She looked back to Twilight guiltily. “I’m sorry. You were reading.” Twilight shook her head. “Doesn’t matter, love. You’re in need of help, and that’s the most important to look after.” Sunset sniffed. “On our anniversary, nonetheless.” “Hush, Sunset. Don’t worry about it.” “I’m sorry I ruined it.” “No, you didn’t, Sunset. Anniversaries are supposed to celebrate our relationship, to show each other and the world how much we love one another. What better way for me to say ‘I love you’ than being there in your time of need?” Sunset chuckled. “How cheesy of you.” She leaned in and pecked her wife’s cheek. “I love it.” Twilight giggled, and it was a golden jingle of diamond bells to her ears. Twilight leaned in, and she gave her a passionate kiss. They released it after a while, then she fell back into Twilight’s warm, loving embrace. The doorbell chimed. Sunset turned and Twilight dropped from the bed. They walked together, Sunset trailing behind Twilight’s steps across their bedroom, along the corridors, down the stairs, until finally reaching the front door. Captain Celestia greeted them with a worried look, her body devoid of any uniforms yet the black metal hat sitting on her head like a flame to its ember. “Good morning, Lieutenant. How was your sleep?” Sunset smiled and saluted. “Good morning, Captain. My sleep has been . . . interrupted.” “I see.” Celestia nodded. “Would you like to take the day off?” Sunset looked at her surprised. “What? No, of course not! I’ll be at the station in an hour, as usual.” Celestia shook her head. “It’s important that you take your time to recover, Sunset. Yesterday’s events hadn’t been pleasant.” She reached under her wing and produced a brown paper bag. Opening it, she levitated out a smore. “I brought you some snacks. Want some?” A beautiful one, Sunset remarked. A perfectly melted marshmallow between the perfect crackers with the perfect amount of chocolate. It was still hot, even, with the white, pure, beautiful marshmallow a picture-perfect copy of a melting pony hide. Sunset tried to smile. Her lips tried to curl up but were instantly pulled back at her stomach’s lurch. She stepped back and held a hoof over her mouth. She leaned to the side of the terrace and emptied her stomach to the ground below. As she finished, the ringing in her ears she hadn’t noticed ceased, and she heard the muffled noises of her worried wife. “Sunset, you’re okay?” Sunset shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.” She felt a feathery wing drape upon her. “It’s trauma, Sunset. Take the day off.” She looked to her side, finding Captain Celestia looking back at her with tired eyes. “It’s not your first time handling Ignorance Duty, but it’s definitely your first time it took a victim. Don’t worry about it, Sunset. Every firemare will eventually experience it. I did. Rainbow did. Fluttershy did. Even Spitfire did, that one time. Oh, poor mare, she was. Took the whole week off, she did. But she recovered, and eventually continued her duties until this day.” Sunset leaned on the railing of the terrace dejectedly. Two wings, one of feathers and one of polycarbonate, draped upon her in a calming embrace. “Take the day off, Lieutenant. Take as much time as you need; we’ll cover you up. It’s under the protocol, so you need not worry.” Sunset sat silently on the dining table, idly tapping her hoof to the shining wooden surface. Twilight had insisted that she stayed there while she cooked. She turned around, finding her carbon-black steel wings hanging on the wall like an ornament. It was quite beautiful indeed, she mused. She never took the chance to really admire it from a distance before. Sunset glanced to her right, finding Captain Celestia sitting comfortably with a book on her face. The fire captain suddenly turned, her eyes meeting Sunset’s own. Sunset looked away. Celestia put her book down and called, “What’s on your mind, Lieutenant?” “Nothing.” “Lieutenant?” Sunset looked up and met Celestia’s gaze. “Speak up, Sunset.” Sunset sighed. “Normal ponies go to rehabilitation when they’re caught using Tools of Ignorance, right? What about firemares? Do they get punishment instead, since they’re supposed to be the one handling these things? Or are they forgiven because exposure to the Tools makes them more prone?” Celestia chuckled and leaned back on her chair. At Sunset’s questioning look, she let out a blissful sigh and said, “I remember my first Tool. A bottle of moonshine, it was.” Sunset gaped. “Y-you’ve drunk moonshine before?” Celestia nodded. “It was my fifth year of duty, I think. Yes, yes it was. I’d just burned down a house full of the thing. Took some home, drank it alone. It tasted terrible. Smelled terrible too, it did. But I liked it, and drank some more.” “A-and then? What happened?” “The captain found out,” she said wistfully, staring at the ceiling. “He was a wonderful man. He told nopony about it; simply laughed and let me be. He gave me twenty-four hours to dispose of the rest myself.” She looked down, meeting Sunset’s eyes. “Which I’ll also give you, Lieutenant.” Sunset cocked her head. “Twenty-four hours to rest?” Celestia shook her head and chuckled. “No, Sunset. I’m giving you a day to burn that idea of how ignorance can give you happiness.” “I’m not—” Celestia put a hoof on Sunset’s mouth and winked. As Celestia pulled her hoof back, Sunset opened her mouth, but quickly closed it back when her wife came from the kitchen, levitating two plates of bacon and eggs and a bowl of oatmeal. “For you firemares, as always.” Sunset took the two plates of bacon and eggs, giving one for Celestia and one for her. “Thank you, Twilight,” said Celestia. Twilight sat to Sunset’s left, across Celestia, putting the bowl of oatmeal in front of her and munched with a happy smile, as always. At her first swallow, she looked at Sunset, saying, “So, what have you got planned for today?” “Well,” Sunset began, “I was planning to go to work for the day and prepare for our anniversary in the evening. Seems like that’s not happening.” She glanced at Celestia. “I have no idea what to do now.” Celestia looked at Twilight. “What does your wife love to do?” “She likes to travel,” Twilight answered instantly. “Driving, to be exact.” She glanced at Sunset with a smirk. “She likes to take a trip to nowhere in particular; wasting gasoline for no other purpose than a blissful trip along the road.” Sunset chuckled. “And that’s how I met the love of my life.” Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?’ “Yes,” Twilight answered. “She ran out of gas in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night. My house was the only one around which lights are still on, and so she knocked. She asked for gas, which I definitely couldn’t have had—” “You totally could’ve!” “—seeing as I don’t have any vehicles at home that require gasoline. Or any kind of transportation at all, for that matter. So I offered for her to stay the night instead until the neighbors wake up. She misunderstood it as flirting.” “It was in the middle of the night. I was tired. She was hot.” “She flirted back. She’s really awful at it. It was love at first sight.” Celestia chuckled. “What a lovely story you both have.” Twilight and Sunset looked at each other with loving smiles. “It is.” Sunset sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I feel a little better. Thank you.” Twilight draped a wing around her. “How about a random trip? Maybe it’ll make you feel even better.” “We’ve planned that for tomorrow.” “Alone.” Sunset snapped her head toward Twilight. “W-what? Why? It was the original plan for our anniversary, after all!” Twilight chuckled. “I’ll surprise you when you come back. You surprise me when I greet you. Doesn’t that sound more romantic?” “That’s cheesy.” Sunset giggled. “I love it.” Sunset stared blankly at the empty street in front of her. Trees, houses, and ponies slowly swept by her peripheral vision as her car drove past. She felt alone. She didn’t like it one bit. She hadn’t thought of where she was going. But, then again, that was how her life was before she met Twilight: aimlessly driving around without a clue of even where she was, simply enjoying the sensation of driving. It was an odd hobby, others said. Why would she like driving? Walking is a lot better. You could meet random strangers and make new friends, find new things to learn and have random thoughts stuck inside your head like a parasite. Driving was monotonous. You could arrive at your destination instantly without finding anything new and interesting. In a way, she liked that. She liked the idea that she learned nothing on her trip, simply enjoying her own mind and arriving at her destination the same mare as when she left. Unchanging. Forever the same. But, as life gave it, she couldn’t. She’d always arrive a slightly different mare as when she left, perhaps psychologically from the nagging thought about the purpleness of a house she passed by on the street that made her come to the realization that her wife’s mane was not lavender, it was indigo! Or maybe she sneezed on the way, letting go of a few molecules that were once her into the air and sucking in new molecules to fix that (molecularly speaking) gaping hole inside her body, thereby making her, by definition, different? She shook her head and focused on the street. Not that she needed to, it was barely twice trotting speed. And that made her ponder. No car in existence ever sped past her current speed. None but The Salamander. Nopony wanted to do that, for speeding up means missing potential interesting stuff on the way. It was necessary for The Salamander, however, for they were always needed the instant they were called. Besides, the things they miss on the road always paid off for what they didn’t miss at the destination. Her eyes bulged. How much interesting stuff had she missed because she took her time on the road? She looked down, below the steering wheel, to where the pedals were. She could always do the opposite of what others do, right? What if, instead of walking slowly and hoping for interesting things to find her, she sped up and hunted for interesting stuff? Instead of letting stuff happen, she makes stuff happen? She hit the gas and let her car sped as fast as it could. Which was quite fast, she had to say, for something that wasn’t built for speed. Her car’s engine roared as she let the wheels sped along the asphalt road. Everything was a blur, the houses, the trees, the ponies naught but a speck of color occupying an insignificant portion of her vision for a meaningless fraction of a second. She didn’t find anything interesting on the road, because she found nothing on the road comprehensible enough to recognize nor think about. Her mind raced. Her nerves sparked in excitement. Her blood overrun with adrenaline, flooded with oxygen and forced her to focus on the speeding landscape before her. She took turns, sharp turns, U-turns, merry-go-round-turns, Beta caro-turns, and found that she always needed to slow down whenever she took some form of direction change. It killed her grin. What if that’s not the case? she wondered. She remembered reading about a hypothesis about how sudden acceleration or deceleration of the wheel might cause it to slip. In her adrenaline-induced moment of crystal clarity, her mind formed a stupid, insane idea to use that slip to turn a corner without losing speed. And so, foolish as she was, she did. She hit the gas at a corner, prompting several ponies to scream. She also held the clutch, prompting the rpm gauge to shot up to the red bar. It wasn’t good. The red bar indicated something bad. But, foolish as she was, she ignored it and released the clutch. The back wheels screamed as they lost their grip on the road. The front wheels fumbled as they noticed their hind counterparts floating. Sunset’s car turned the corner in a rush of smoke, in a whirling smell of burned tires, in a grin of a bacon-maned unicorn. It missed centimeters from a passerby’s screaming muzzle. At the last moment, Sunset threw the steering wheel back. As she left the turn and had her car steadily moving in the normal way again, Sunset giggled. Sunset chuckled. Sunset threw her head backward and let out a hysterical laugh. Wasn’t it fun, not caring about how the street vendors with bulging eyes at that street corner could’ve been turned into a bloody pulp of pony meat and bones, how she could’ve died, how her wife could be so devastated and so traumatized by either the accident or death that she stopped functioning in society? Yes, Sunset reasoned. It was fun. A couple of hours passed with a lot of corners deliberately taken. A lot of hours passed with police officers wondering what to do as there weren’t any laws specifically mentioning about speed limits, for it was never needed. A lot of hours spent with a grin, with a lot of laughter, with neither thought nor care for her surroundings. Bliss. For the first time in her life, Sunset felt truly, genuinely happy. As she turned another corner, she glimpsed the phrase 'Rehabilitation Center' on a billboard. It made her slow down for a bit to think clearly without having to worry about crashing. More specifically, thinking about Rarity and how she's currently living there for her loss of a house. And a sister. She half-wished that it wasn't the case. She hoped that the place was simply their home so that she could stop by and take Sweetie for a ride, forcibly taking her Airpod she hadn't noticed before and avoided all the hullabaloos of yesterday by introducing her to the thrill of driving fast and made her love it more than some gibberish electrical sounds with the occasional bass. It might be a Tool of Ignorance, but she could always reason to society by introducing it as another type of sports. Drift Racing, maybe. Sunset shook her head and wiped away the tears forming in her eyes, with it wiping away her thoughts. Sweetie was right, Sunset realized. Sunset wished she could drive Sweetie back home, away from the clutches of death and to a confectionery at which they could spend time together ignoring each other and not talking to each other, simply enjoying vanilla milkshake in front of a campfire made of Balefire that was burning the building down and not caring that they, too, will respectively turn into molten marshmallow and liquid bacon at 451 degrees Fahreneigh.