If Sunset had been told that morning that she would be spending her day galloping through the streets of Canterlot pursued by guards, she probably would have laughed, and yet there she was, doing her best to put distance between herself and her pursuers, with laughter being the last thing on her mind. The sound of her hooves pounding the cobblestones echoed through the otherwise peaceful neighborhood she found herself in. Sunset, however, was much more interested in the cacophony of clanking metal armor and raised voices that sounded a bit too close for comfort.
The heat of the midday sun, while pleasantly warm under normal circumstances, sapped her energy and tired her slender limbs. Her breathing was quick, her chest heaving as it attempted to fuel her overworked muscles. Sunset’s eyes darted to and fro as she ran, desperately looking for a means of escape.
The residential areas of Canterlot were sparsely populated at that time of day. Most ponies were either off at work, or at school, or out doing their shopping. While this meant that there were few ponies there to get in her way, it also meant that Sunset could not attempt to lose her pursuers in a crowd. She briefly considered trying to make a break for one of the busier areas of town, but she dismissed this idea, as it would take her too far away from her intended destination.
Sunset continued to weave her way through the streets, making sharp turns around corners, doubling back, and doing whatever she could to try to give the ponies following her the slip. No matter what she did though, they always seemed to be right on her tail. She would catch glimpses of them out of the corner of her eye, or sometimes hear them yelling from afar. Sunset knew the chase couldn’t go on forever. She was fast, but she knew the guards would eventually wear her down if it came to a war of attrition. She needed to lose them soon, or else she would be in serious trouble.
Luckily, Sunset found just what she wanted to find. There was a small alleyway wedged between two houses on her right side. As soon as it popped into her view, she veered towards it, hoping against hope that it would be her out. The passage was narrow and scattered with boxes and garbage cans, but the petite young mare managed to weave her way through without too much difficulty.
The alleyway ended in a three-way junction, the path splitting off to the left and right. A quick glance revealed that the left path led out onto another street, and the right path extended for a few more yards before ending at a tall wall. Thinking quickly, Sunset darted to the right and jumped behind a conveniently placed crate that was just big enough to provide her with cover. Sunset pulled her legs in and ducked her head down. She tried her hardest to stifle her breath, even as her lungs burned and cried out for air. She sat there shaking, waiting in silence for whatever came next.
Sunset didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough, she could hear the heavy hooves and the bulky armor of the guards as they clamored their way through the alleyway she had just come down. She could hear them struggle to avoid the various obstacles that littered their way, the sounds of heavy impacts and angry exclamations filling the air. Finally, they arrived at the junction, just a hop, skip, and a jump away from their quarry.
Sunset held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, her ears straining to hear every last detail. The guards came to a halt, quickly surveying the situation they found themselves in. Sunset was so close to them that she could hear their heavy breathing. Through gasped breaths, the guards declared the right path to be a dead end, and decided that Sunset would have to have gone to the left. Grunts and angry muttering could be heard as the sound of galloping hooves resumed, heading in the opposite direction from Sunset’s hiding spot.
Sunset sat there, unmoving and unthinking, transfixed on the slowly receding noise of her would-be pursuers. It started off as a roar, then shrunk to a clamor, then to a mumble, and then it was gone, leaving her sitting there listening to the drumming of her heartbeat in her ears. Finally, Sunset let go; her mouth flew open and she gulped down the air like it was a sweet nectar. She leaned her head back against the hard wood behind her and slowly opened her eyes, gazing up at the bright blue sky above her.
Her legs uncoiled from the tight embrace they had been in and stretched out across the ground, finally able to rest. Sunset lied there for a while, too exhausted to even think of getting up and leaving. Eventually, she could feel her heartbeat resume its normal rhythm and her breath return to its normal intensity. Steeling herself, Sunset rolled to the side and pushed herself up onto her weary limbs. She knew she had to keep moving; she still had somewhere to be.
Sunset slowly made her way back through the alley to the street she had come from, carefully avoiding the mess the guards had made. A quick scan of the street revealed no passersby, and more importantly, no guards snooping around. Sunset emerged and set off back down the road at a brisk trot, going as fast as she could without drawing attention to herself. The chase had led her off course from where she had been trying to get to, and it took her a minute to re-orient herself. Luckily, the tall towers of Canterlot Castle were an ever-present landmark throughout the city, allowing her to find her way back to her intended path relatively easily.
Now that her mind was no longer preoccupied with more pressing matters, Sunset was able to enjoy the serenity of the urban landscape around her. A soft breeze whistled through the air, cooling her warm, sweat-covered brow. The rows of neat little houses she passed were quiet, but not completely lifeless. Sunset occasionally saw ponies shaking out rugs, hanging laundry out to dry, and doing other such household chores. She even thought he could smell the aroma of baked goods wafting from an open window. A small group of fillies and colts ran past her, laughing and giggling amongst themselves. Sunset breathed a sigh of relief, a gentle smile appearing on her face.
The rest of Sunset’s journey passed by without incident. It only took her a few more minutes of weaving though the neighborhood before she finally reached her destination: Hesperia Park. It was the largest public park in this area of the city, and was conveniently close to the castle. Sunset paused for a moment to take in the scene before her. The vast expanse of emerald-green grass was perfectly maintained; no overgrown or dead spots to be seen. Well-trimmed trees dotted the landscape, providing patches of shade for ponies to rest in. A stone path wound its way through the little hills and slopes, leading to a small rest area with benches and a large marble fountain. Altogether, the park was an excellent example of the image of beauty and tranquility that the city worked so hard to maintain.
While normally peaceful, the park was very lively at that hour, full of ponies coming and going, running and playing, and generally enjoying the warm, sunny day in whatever ways struck their fancy. Sunset could see groups of foals running about playing tag, hide-and-seek, or simply just rolling through the grass. Older ponies walked the paths chatting, or sat down to enjoy their midday meals, or tried to keep an eye on their little ones as best they could. However, there was only one pony in the crowd that Sunset was interested in: the young mare standing by the park entrance.
The pony in question was around Sunset’s age, far too old to be mistaken for a mere filly, but not quite a fully grown mare yet. Her coat was a pale blue, like an early-morning sky, but her mane was a much darker shade of the same color, almost mistakable for black at a distance. Her amber-colored eyes, big and beautiful, were darting about, as if looking for something. She was fidgeting slightly, shifting her weight back and forth between her hooves, and pursing her lips. Despite her apparent agitation, the mare maintained an overall image of calm and composure, such that only somepony who knew her very well could have seen through it.
Sunset smirked upon laying eyes on the mare, a devious gleam in her eye. She approached the entrance slowly, taking extra care to move as quietly as possible. Luckily for Sunset, the mare was too preoccupied with scanning the crowd in the park to notice her. She was able to get all the way up to her target without being discovered. In one swift motion, Sunset leaned in right next to the mare’s ear and whispered, “Boo!”
The unsuspecting mare jumped at the sound, letting out an adorable, albeit ladylike, squeal. She whipped her head around to identify the unknown threat, her eyes wide with fear. She stared at Sunset for a moment before breathing a sigh of relief and trying to regain her composure. “Sunset, you scared me,” she said, sounding more hurt than angry.
Sunset held a hoof to her mouth, struggling to keep herself from laughing at the mare’s reaction. “I’m sorry Nova; I just couldn’t help myself.”
Nova quickly recovered from her shock, a worried expression replacing the fearful one that had been there moments earlier. “Where were you?” began Nova. “When you didn’t show up, I started to get worried. And then I saw the guards running around and I thought that something might have happened to you. I didn’t know whether I should stay and wait for you, or if I should have gone out and tried to find you, or if the guards were going to come after me next, or...” Nova trailed off, getting flustered by her own recollection.
Sunset put a hoof on her shoulder to comfort her. “Hey, Nova, it’s alright. I just had a bit of bad luck getting out of the castle. Wouldn’t be the first time,” Sunset chuckled. “Besides, I could handle those hay-brains with one hoof tied behind my back.” She tried to give Nova a reassuring smile.
Nova smiled back at her, her expression loosening. “I know,” she said. “If there’s anypony who can handle themselves out there, it’s you. But what was so important that we had to come out here today, anyway? You never did tell me.”
“Oh, that can wait,” Sunset began. “Why don’t we just hang out for a while; enjoy the day?” Sunset started towards the main path, before glancing back over her shoulder. “Besides, it’s not like we have any reason to hurry back now.” Nova opened her mouth as if to say something, but then stopped, breathing a defeated sigh and moving to catch up with Sunset.
The two mares walked side-by-side down the path, the sound of their hooves settling into a gentle rhythm. Sunset began crowd watching as she went along, always managing to find entertainment in the day-to-day lives of the common pony. She spotted a stuffy-looking stallion sitting on a bench nearby, reading a newspaper. “Hey, look at Mister Frowny-Flanks over there,” she whispered to Nova. “What kind of pony would come out on a beautiful day like this just to sit and stare at a boring old newspaper,” she said jokingly.
“And look at her,” Sunset continued, indicating a filly that was blowing a very large bubble with her gum. “Part of me just wants to run over there and pop that thing.” Sunset looked over at her companion, only to see that Nova looked distracted, clearly worried about something. Sunset gave her a playful nudge. “Come on, I’m just kidding,” she said.
“Sunset, aren’t you worried about the princess?” said Nova. “The last time you got caught sneaking out...”
She didn’t need to finish; Sunset remembered that day well. She had seen Celestia sitting high up on her throne talking down to her petitioners and servants many times, but it was one thing to watch from afar in safety, another entirely to be in the hot seat yourself. The sight of that majestic monarch gazing down at you from her golden throne would have been enough to make even the bravest of ponies sweat. Even Sunset, who was probably closer to the princess than anypony else, could not help but feel uneasy in those rare occasions that she had to stand before her in that setting.
“Oh, it wasn’t that bad,” said Sunset, trying her best to sound calm and collected. “Sure, she can be a bit...intimidating at times, but her bark is much worse than her bite. She’ll probably just drag me in and give me another boring speech about responsibility or something. And then I’ll nod a few times, apologize for my bad behavior, and promise to never do it again. Worst case scenario: she’ll make me do a bit of extra studying, nothing I can’t handle.”
Nova looked over at her, her worried expression softening somewhat. “I wish I could be more like you when it comes to this sort of thing. You never let anything rattle you; you always know what to do or what to say to make everything right again. If it were me standing up there, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Sunset gave Nova a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Nova,” she said. “As long as I’m around, you don’t have to worry about her or anyone else bothering you. Sunset Shimmer isn’t the sort of mare to not look out for her best friend.” The last remnants of concern on Nova’s face melted away, leaving that genuine smile that she rarely showed to others.
The two ponies had just about reached the central rest area when Sunset noticed a small ice cream cart by the fountain with an accompanying ice cream pony serving the frozen treats to the crowd. “Hey, how about a snack?” she asked Nova. “You don’t mind, do you?” she said, suddenly remembering that food wasn’t free outside the castle. Despite living in luxury, Sunset had very little money of her own, having no real means of obtaining it, or any real use for it for that matter.
“Not at all,” Nova replied, fishing her coin purse out of her dainty saddlebags. The mares got in the line which, fortunately for them, was not very long. Sunset and Nova soon arrived at the cart, and were served their ice cream cones from the kindly old ice cream pony. Sunset got a scoop of mint chocolate chip; Nova got vanilla bean. The two took their treats and sat down on a nearby bench to rest and eat.
In between devouring her ice cream, Sunset resumed her previous commentary on the park’s inhabitants. She enthusiastically pointed out anything she deemed noteworthy. Bickering couples, old mares feeding the birds, ponies with silly haircuts; none were safe from her appraisal. Sunset’s musings managed to elicit a giggle from Nova. Sunset turned to look at her, watching her lick and nibble at her dessert in a very ladylike manner.
Sunset remembered the first time she had met the pony who would become her closest companion. Nova Obscura had been a tiny little filly when Princess Celestia had first introduced the two. Sunset had been skeptical of her at first, as is typical of fillies and colts when someone attempts to set them up in an arranged friendship. However, it didn’t take long for the young unicorn to grow on her and become a welcome part of her life.
Perhaps Sunset had felt sorry for the poor filly who had always seemed so nervous around the castle and its sophisticated inhabitants. Sunset hadn't blamed her; she herself had been overwhelmed by palace life back in those days, shortly after she had begun her studies under Princess Celestia. But having Nova by her side had always made Sunset feel more at ease, knowing there was somepony who looked up to her and depended on her. Sunset liked to think that Nova had benefited from her company as well, Nova having gone from being a timid little filly to an elegant young mare, adapting much more to their high-society life than Sunset had.
Over the years that they had spent playing together, studying together, and growing up together, Sunset had come to know almost everything about her, despite Nova not being the sort to talk about herself unprompted. Nova’s father was a low-level officer of the royal guard; her mother was a maid who worked in the castle. They were both kind and loving parents, according to Nova, and were happy in their lives, despite their humble circumstances. Sunset had had to take Nova’s word on that, as the two had always seemed so reserved and formal in the rare times Sunset had gotten to speak with them.
Nova was kind, polite, and enjoyable to be around, unlike some of the other young mares of the court whom Sunset regarded as petty and empty-headed. Throughout their years of studying under their private tutors, Nova had shown herself to be of respectable intelligence. While not as gifted as Sunset when it came to complex subjects like magic, Nova had demonstrated an impressive work ethic and motivation that Sunset was often envious of.
At formal events, which ranged from boring to mind-numbing in Sunset’s opinion, Nova’s companionship was often the one saving grace she had. Being able to escape the seemingly endless hours of hobnobbing and elbow-rubbing by chatting with Nova was always a welcome reprieve. Sunset didn’t know how Nova managed to keep hold of her sanity at times like those; she supposed that Nova just had a knack for small talk. An excellent companion in such circumstances, and an excellent one in general, Sunset reflected.
Suddenly, Sunset was pulled from her reverie by the voice of the very pony she had been thinking about. “Sunset,” Nova said. “You really must be more careful.” Sunset was momentarily confused, before Nova produced an embroidered handkerchief and raised it to Sunset’s mouth. Nova wiped her companion’s lips, the cloth removing generous amounts of light green ice cream, which Sunset had not noticed until that moment.
“Thanks, Nova,” Sunset chuckled awkwardly. “I can always count on you to save the day.” The two returned to their snacking and their witty observations, losing themselves in the moment. It was rare for Sunset and Nova to have times like that, and Sunset relished them every time they came. No work to do, no guards watching them from afar, no snobby aristocrats whispering about them behind their backs, just two ponies enjoying each other’s company and the simple pleasures of a sunny afternoon.
Sunset wished that that time could have lasted forever, that somehow she could have just captured that moment in a bubble and lived in it, letting the rest of the big, wide world and its troubles pass her by. Sadly, such a feat was beyond the magical abilities of even a talented unicorn such as herself. Eventually, their ice creams were gone and the lunchtime crowds thinned, ponies returning to their homes, their jobs, or whatever else they had waiting for them. Sunset almost wished she could have joined them, but she knew that she had her own life to go back to and her own troubles to attend to.
Sunset begrudgingly rose from her resting place, stretching out her legs. She turned back to Nova, a hint of excitement in her eyes. “Well, I think it’s time I showed you why I dragged you out here,” she said. Nova stood, an intrigued look on her face, and followed Sunset as she led her away. The two walked out onto the grass, Sunset trying to find a good spot far away from anypony else. They ended up at the top of a small hill which provided an excellent view of the park and the sky overhead.
“All right, Nova,” Sunset began, levitating a worn notebook out of her saddlebags and flipping through it. “All you have to is sit back and watch.”
“What exactly am I going to be watching?” asked Nova, a twinge of concern creeping into her voice upon recognizing the book that her companion was perusing.
Sunset skimmed through pages of messy handwriting, crude diagrams, and the occasional doodle, before finding what she was looking for. The section she was looking at was covered in complex calculations, with several crossed-out sections scattered throughout. “You know how we were reading that old treatise on weather construction last week? Well, it reminded me of something I read a while ago about the theoretical limitations of weather magic, and that got me thinking about—“
“Sunset,” Nova sighed. “This is another one of your experiments, isn’t it?”
“Don’t worry, Nova,” said Sunset confidently. “I double checked my sources and went over my calculations a dozen times. I’m sure it will work.”
“You said that the last time as well,” said Nova. Her face was regressing to that familiar look of worry that Sunset had tried so hard to dispel.
“It’s not gonna be like last time. Besides...his hair grew back,” Sunset said sheepishly. She cleared her throat, returning her focus to her book. “This one’s much simpler. In essence, all I need to do is artificially condense the atmospheric water vapor into a visible, self-sustaining mass.”
“You mean...you’re trying to make a cloud?” asked Nova, her nervousness tempered with genuine curiosity.
“Yep!” Sunset replied. “And if I can pull this off, imagine what else I could do. With a few minor modifications, I should even be able to make rain, or snow, or hail!”
While Nova didn’t want to rain on Sunset’s parade, she felt she had to chime in upon hearing such ambitious talk. “But you know that only Pegasus ponies can make make weather. Did you at least ask someone to look over your spell? One of our tutors, maybe? Or perhaps the princess?”
Sunset scoffed at Nova’s question. “Are you kidding?” she said. “If they knew what I was doing, they’d never let me try it out. I don’t get what their problem is; you can’t make discoveries without taking a few risks.”
Nova shook her head, puzzled. “I don’t know, Sunset,” she said. “I just can’t see it. Unicorns have spent centuries trying to produce even the lightest drizzle without success. It just can’t be done.”
If there was one thing that irked Sunset, it was being told that there was something she couldn’t do. She was Sunset Shimmer, the most powerful unicorn her age, and the protege of the Princess of Equestria herself. She could do things that could enthrall the foolish and impress the wise, yet she couldn’t handle something as simple as simple as a puffy little cloud? Preposterous.
“Well, Nova,” Sunset began, her voice dripping with smug determination. “None of those ponies were me.” Sunset raised her head and gazed upon the clear blue sky hanging overhead. Not a cloud to be seen for miles around; that would change soon, she thought. Sunset concentrated, mentally reaching out for that well of magic energy within her that was as familiar to her as her own tail. The horn atop her head began to glow it’s distinctive blue-green as Sunset aimed it towards the vast expanse above her.
Sunset knew what she had to do. She had run through it in her head countless times. She knew just how to push, prod, and caress her target into the form she desired. Soon, the sky itself would bend to her will. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
Watching from the sidelines, Nova’s expression was a mix of fear, excitement, and wonder. Her eyes darted back and forth between Sunset and the sky, unsure of where to look. She bit her lip in anticipation, the tension rising quickly.
Suddenly, Nova thought she saw a flicker of movement high overhead. It was hardly visible, no less transparent than the haze of heat that hangs above roads on hot summer days. But what started as merely a small ripple was quickly growing in size and intensity. Soon, the spot was spasming violently, as if a great quantity of energy was being contained in a single point, struggling to burst free and escape.
The mental strain of the spell Sunset was casting was significant, but not overwhelming. She wouldn’t have thought that manipulating a small amount of water would be so difficult. Then again, if it were easy, somepony else would have already done it. She didn’t mind having to push herself, though; she was no weakling.
Nova’s heart beat faster and faster as she watched the bizarre spectacle unfold before her. She did not know whether she should continue standing by, watching helplessly, or if she should attempt to stop Sunset before something bad happened. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear the suspense any longer, it happened.
Sunset’s eyes closed in concentration, and she uttered a drawn-out, throaty grunt, as if lifting a heavy object. With one final surge of willpower on her part, and a corresponding shine from her horn, Sunset unleashed the spell.
Sunset’s head flopped downward, exhausted from the effort. She was breathing heavily; her heart pounded in her chest. Her eyes flickered open, staring at the ground beneath her hooves. As she took a moment to recover, she heard Nova’s voice from behind her.
“Sunset, you...you did it,” said Nova, barely audible.
Sunset slowly raised her head back up, her eyes wide. There it was, floating high above her: a cloud. It was the puniest little wisp of cloud Sunset had ever laid eyes on, but it was a cloud nonetheless. Sunset almost couldn’t believe it. It had worked; her spell had worked. She had succeeded where the some of the wisest and most powerful wizards in history had failed. Sunset was speechless, merely standing there in awe of her own accomplishment.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sunset saw Nova walk up beside her, her face similarly glued to the sky. Sunset slowly turned her head to look at her, struggling to tear her eyes away from her creation. Nova followed suit, the two ponies meeting each other’s gazes. Nova’s expression was one of pure, unadulterated amazement; her mouth hung agape, and her wide eyes shone like Sunset had never seen before.
As they stood there, Sunset saw the corners of Nova’s mouth move higher and higher, pulling her face into a wide grin. Sunset subconsciously mirrored her, the look of joy on Nova’s face too infectious to resist. Suddenly, the two ponies’ chests began to vibrate with the seeds of a giggle, barely audible even to themselves. The low rumblings quickly grew into breathy chuckles, each mare feeding off of the giddiness of the other. The rising tide of their laughter continued to swell, until they were both swept into full-on, thunderous belly laughs. Sunset’s eyes clamped shut, happy tears welling up behind them.
Without warning, Sunset felt a large, warm weight slam into her front, knocking her back slightly. Her eyes jerked open, revealing Nova holding her in a tight embrace, her forelegs wrapped around Sunset’s neck and her face buried in Sunset’s fiery mane. Sunset reciprocated, draping a leg around Nova’s neck and leaning into the hug, holding her close. The two stood there, half laughing and half crying, until at last they burned themselves out, their vocalizations replaced by heavy breathing as peace returned to their minds and bodies.
Sunset stood upright, gently pushing Nova back until the two could once again look at each other. Nova’s cheeks were damp with tears, her modest makeup smearing slightly; her lips were settled into a gentle grin. “I told you I could do it,” said Sunset, finally braking the silence. In their exuberance, Nova had almost forgotten what they had been so excited about in the first place. Standing on her own four legs once again, she turned her head skyward once again, toward the source of their mirth.
Sunset saw Nova’s smile drop off of her face like a glass dropped on the kitchen floor, shattering into pieces. Sunset jolted to attention, her head jerking upwards to follow Nova’s gaze. Her heart skipped a beat upon seeing what now occupied the space that she and Nova had been staring at only moments before. Where there had once been a tiny, picturesque puff of cotton no bigger then her head, now floated a large, misshapen mass several times the size of her body. And as the two ponies stared at it, it visibly expanded.
The cloud bubbled, new masses ballooning out from the main body, sometimes collapsing and sometimes remaining. Thick tendrils slowly reached out from all around it, as if the cloud were clawing at the air, trying to grab hold of it and draw it into itself. The ponies watched it bend and stretch, seeming as if it would lose cohesion and break apart at any moment, although it never did; it continued to swell and reform, never anything more than a single, monolithic monstrosity.
“Sunset...” began Nova, her voice quivering. Sunset, however, was no longer paying attention to the world around her. Her mind was running a mile a minute, completely fixated on the new turn of events. As quick as lightning, Sunset pored through her notes, re-reading every marking, questioning every conclusion, desperately searching for an explanation. Her eyes darted back and forth between the pages before her and the sky above her, unable to tear her gaze away from her creation for more than a second at a time.
Sunset was lost, having not the slightest inkling of an idea in her brain as to why this was happening. Her heart was racing; her body shook, breaking out into a cold sweat. A storm of emotions tore a path through her mind: confusion as to where she had gone wrong, anger and frustration at herself for her ignorance, and fear for the consequences should she be unable to rectify the situation quickly.
“Uhh...” uttered Sunset, too mentally preoccupied for more sophisticated communication. She started flipping back through the pages of her notebook, desperately searching for some inspiration, some idea, some miracle that would make everything right again. In her sporadic glances, she saw the cloud had grown even larger, now covering a large swath of the sky, and had adopted a noticeably darker coloration than it had displayed previously.
Finally, Sunset’s patience ran out, her rising rage overflowing and muscling out everything else in her mind. She threw her notes to the ground with a frustrated grunt and fixed her gaze squarely on the sprawling cloud above her. Her horn began to glow with a brilliant light as she built up her mental energy for an all-out assault. No tact, no strategy, no clever tricks; Sunset would bring that abomination to heel through sheer might. She had brought it into the world, and now she would take it out. She was Sunset Shimmer; she would not be denied.
Sunset unleashed a massive wave of magic, assaulting the cloud from all angles. She reached out, extending her influence across every inch of the grotesque mass, wrapping it in a tight blanket of telekinetic force. Sunset took hold and squeezed, determined to crush the life out of the unruly collection of water vapor. The cloud, however, fought back, wrestling with Sunset and putting her strength to the test. It threw itself against its immaterial prison like a wild animal in a cage, not caring if it hurt itself in its bid for freedom.
The pressure on Sunset’s mind increased rapidly, like a balloon being inflated to the point of bursting. She struggled to even keep it contained, much less compress it back to its original size. Her mental strength was draining by the second, unable to keep up with the relentless thrashing of her captive. Sunset clenched her jaw, refusing to give up the battle; a bead of sweat ran down her forehead. But as stubborn as Sunset was, even she couldn’t hold out against such a foe forever. With a single, explosive burst, the cloud broke the tenuous hold she had on it and surged outward in all directions.
The mental backlash knocked Sunset off balance, her shaky limbs barely managing to save her from falling to the ground. Her mind burned as if from friction, the pain radiating throughout her entire body. Despite her disorientation, Sunset became aware of a leg wrapped around her, pulling her up, and a voice in her ear, distorted and hazy. “No, no, no, Sunset! Get up! Please get up!” she managed to discern.
The exhausted Sunset managed to weakly raise her head toward the source of the voice. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out the face of Nova Obscura above her, her eyes wide in terror. Summoning all her strength, Sunset pushed herself back into a standing position, with Nova helping as best she could. When she was sturdy once again, Sunset looked back to the sky, and was horrified by what she saw there.
The cloud had grown to the size of a large building and showed no signs of slowing its expansion. While it had started its life as pure white as a snowbank, it had now become a dark grey, looking more like smoke than a cloud. Even worse, Sunset was now aware of a gentle, but steady current of wind flowing into the heart of the mass. It pulled at her mane, strands of scarlet hair standing at attention like flags in a gale. She could see leaves and flowers being plucked from the ground or from trees and sucked up into the heart of the behemoth.
Sunset became conscious of a chorus of panicked exclamations emanating from all around her. Upon glancing at her surroundings, she could see that they were not the only ones who were aware of what was going on. Those few ponies still wandering the park had taken notice of the thing that Sunset hesitated to call a cloud anymore. Some pointed and screamed, others called out to their friends and loved ones, trying to gather themselves and retreat as quickly as possible. Others still simply turned tail and ran away as fast as their hooves could carry them.
Nova put a hoof on Sunset’s shoulder, shaking her gently to get her attention. “Sunset! We have to get out of here! There’s nothing more you can do,” pleaded Nova, tears streaming down her face. Sunset looked her in the eye, seeing the fear that had taken hold of her. Although her mind was still cloudy, Sunset realized that the situation had become too much for them to handle. As much as it pained her to admit it, she had failed, and her failure would soon bring harm to Canterlot and its citizens.
Sunset took hold of Nova, adopting a commanding tone and saying, “You go. Get out of here and get help.” Sunset turned her head back towards the beast in the sky. “I’m gonna do whatever I can to slow that thing down,” she said resolutely.
“No! I can’t just leave you here on your own. You’ll get hurt!” replied Nova, sounding uncharacteristically defiant.
Between the pain in her head, the exhaustion of her body, and the chaos in her mind, Sunset was not in the mood to argue. Shifting her weight, Sunset gave Nova as powerful a shove as her weary limbs could muster. “I said go, Nova! Do as I say!” Sunset yelled at her. Nova stumbled back a few feet, shocked by both the physical and verbal assault. Nova hesitated a moment, staring at her companion, whose eyes were locked on the gaseous mass high above them. Reluctantly, Nova turned away from her and ran.
Sunset waited until she could no longer hear Nova’s hoofsteps over the sound of the wind, which was slowly but surely increasing in intensity. “Okay. Here we go,” she said softly to herself. Sunset didn’t know what she could do, but she knew she was going to give all that she had to give. Sunset concentrated, summoning as much of her remaining energy as she could. Her horn flickered to life, its glow waxing and waning as she struggled to fight though the pain and exhaustion.
Sunset charged and fired a burst of magic, a bright beam of energy tracing a path from the tip of her horn to the dark cloud above. The impact made an indent in its surface, but compared to the overall size of the whole, the effect was negligible. Sunset winced at the exertion, her vision becoming cloudy yet again, but she did not allow herself to rest. As soon as she could, she once again took aim at her target and fired.
The impacts of Sunset’s attacks were many, but were largely ineffective on their own. Nevertheless, Sunset kept up her barrage, firing again and again, until she had used up the last of her reserves. She was spent, the unicorn’s energy finally running out. Sunset collapsed to the ground, her legs no longer possessing the strength to support her. The grass made for a soft cushion, a small comfort in that trying time. She rolled her head to survey the scene, lacking even the strength to raise it up again.
Her enemy had grown to cover half the park in its shadow, and still showed no sign of stopping. The wind had reached the strength of a mighty storm, the trees themselves bending as it pulled them toward the sky. Sunset’s eyelids dropped, unconsciousness rapidly approaching. The last thing she saw before darkness took her was a small glimmer of white light in the distance, moving towards her from the direction of the castle.
Sunset was roused from her comatose state by the sound of voices somewhere nearby. She gradually pushed her way back into the waking world, the effort not made any easier by the lingering headache she still had. Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, Sunset taking time to let her eyes adjust to the light. When she could finally see properly, she realized that she was looking up at very familiar surroundings. It was the ceiling of her bedroom in the castle, a sight she had spent many hours of her life gazing up at. Around her, Sunset could feel the warm embrace of her bedding and the soft support of her pillows. Under different circumstances, she probably would have felt very comfortable.
Comfort, however, was the last thing on Sunset’s mind in that moment. She was groggy, confused, and slightly nauseous, but she was already working hard to make sense of her situation. She thought back, trying to piece together the events of the day. She remembered meeting Nova in the park, and she remembered them sitting and having ice cream. They had finished and then gone up a hill so that Sunset could...
Sunset’s eyes went wide as she remembered the little experiment she had been so eager to show off not long ago. Her mind filled with a thousand questions at once, none of them bringing her any comfort. What had gone wrong with her experiment? What happened to the cloud she had made? Had anypony been hurt? How had she gotten here? And what had happened to Nova after she had sent her running off?
Sunset’s thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pang in her head, eliciting a pained groan from her dry throat. As the pain subsided, she realized that she could hear the sound of a conversation coming from the direction of her bedroom door. The voices were hushed, and Sunset could not make out every word, but she could tell that one of them was deep and masculine, while the other was softer, feminine, and very familiar. “Tell the princess that she’s still recovering,” she heard the familiar voice say. “As soon as she’s ready, I’ll let you know. Now, please, sir. I really must get back to her.” Sunset heard the deep voice say something she couldn’t hear, followed by the sound of the door closing.
A tired sigh echoed through the room, presumably from the owner of the familiar voice. Sunset heard hoofsteps on the hard floor, approaching the side of the bed. She felt a tremendous weight lift off of her when Nova Obscura stepped into her view, looking distracted and not paying Sunset any attention. Sunset parted her cracked lips and managed to weakly croak out, “Nova”.
Nova’s head zipped toward her, the worried expression replaced by one of shock. Nova stared at Sunset for half a moment before finding her voice. “Sunset?” she whispered. Nova’s face broke into a quivering smile, before she let out an overjoyed cry of “Sunset!” She lunged at Sunset, wrapping her in a tight embrace and nuzzling her neck. “I was so worried about you! They told me you were gonna be alright, but there was just so much going on and you just wouldn’t wake up and I was just so scared that...” Nova spoke quickly and hysterically, eventually becoming unintelligible as her words mixed with sobs and were muffled by the pillows.
Sunset closed her eyes and lied there, in that moment caring about nothing else than the fact that Nova was safe. She gave Nova a minute to get the excitement out of her system, before getting her attention again. “Nova,” Sunset spoke gently. Nova slowly pulled back, looking at Sunset face to face. This close, Sunset could see that her eyes were red, and her face was wet with tears. “It’s okay, Nova. I’m alright,” said Sunset, attempting to comfort the distraught pony.
Sunset’s words seemed effective, Nova somewhat regaining her normal composure. “I’m sorry,” Nova began. “I just wish you wouldn’t scare me like that.”
Sunset’s mind returned to her earlier worries, and wanted to get as many answers as she could. Summoning her strength, Sunset tried to push herself up into a more dignified position. Nova helped as best as she could, gently maneuvering Sunset so that she was propped up against her pillows, the two ponies eye level with each other. “Take it easy, now,” said Nova. “You’ve been out for several hours.”
Sunset had thought that was probably the case. “What happened back there?” she asked Nova. “The cloud...”
“Gone,” Nova stated flatly. “The princess saw to that. She and the others were able to beat it back before it could cause any serious damage. Nopony got hurt. Well, nopony except for...” Nova trailed off, but Sunset could tell that she was talking about her.
“How did I get back here?” Sunset continued. “The last thing I remember was being back on that hill.”
Nova adopted a serious demeanor, recalling the events of earlier that day. “I had run off to get help. I ran and I ran, until I happened upon some guards on patrol. I explained the situation as best as I could, and they were able to sound the alarm. As soon as I could, I went back to make sure that you were okay. When I got there, I saw her. Princess Celestia, I mean. She had you on her back and was flying back to the castle. I could see some guards and some of the weather ponies trying to contain the cloud, but I didn’t stick around to watch. I ran back here as fast as I could, but by the time I got here, the princess had already come and gone, flown back to the park to help the others.”
Sunset’s heart sank upon hearing Nova’s story. The princess herself had had to swoop in and save her, and then clean up her mess. She had foolishly hoped that somehow the incident would escape her notice. Sunset tried to hide her embarrassment as Nova continued her tale.
“The whole castle was in a panic. Ponies were seeking shelter, guards were running about trying to coordinate a response,” said Nova. “It took me forever to find out where they had taken you. By the time I got up here, the doctors had already seen to you. They told me that you had just collapsed from exhaustion, and that you’d be fine after some rest, but I wanted to be sure; I stayed up here to keep an eye on you.”
Sunset thanked the stars that she had somepony like Nova in her life. She almost teared up at the thought of Nova sitting at her bedside, probably sick with worry the whole time. “What happened next?” Sunset prodded.
“Well,” Nova continued. “About and hour or two after I got here, one of the guards came up here to check on you. He wouldn’t tell me what had happened, just that the situation was under control. He also said that...” Nova swallowed, mustering her strength before finishing. “He said that the princess had requested an audience with you as soon as possible.”
There it was. Sunset had known something like that would be coming; she had felt it in her gut. Her joking comments from earlier that day about how easily she could “handle” the princess crept back into her mind, now seeming to mock her in her misfortune. It had been a long time since she had genuinely feared an encounter with Princess Celestia. At that moment, her confidence was hanging on by a thread, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.
“They’ve come back every so often since then, but I’ve managed to keep them at bay,” said Nova, the slightest hint of pride in her voice. Sunset was touched by Nova’s protectiveness. Normally, it was she who had to stand up for Nova and protect her. She would have found the reversal to be humorous, if not for the dour mood she was in. Sunset knew the princess was a patient mare, but she also did not want to test how long that patience would last.
Sunset gave Nova a grateful smile. “Thanks, Nova,” she said. “You did a good job. But we’re not out of the woods yet,” she said with a bittersweet twinge. “It wouldn’t do to keep the princess waiting.” Sunset moved to get up from her bed, her weary muscles straining to move the mare’s stiff body. Nova once again assisted her, half-lifting Sunset up off the mattress and onto her hooves. Sunset was hit with a wave of dizziness as her body rushed to adjust to the sudden change in position.
Nova was apprehensive, saying that Sunset should take some more time to rest before her audience with the princess, but Sunset would not be persuaded. Sunset did agree to eat and drink a little to recover her strength before they left. She gulped down a glass of cool water and ate some buttered bread that Nova had sent down for earlier. While she ate, Nova went outside to find a guard to let the princess know they were coming.
When Sunset had mentally and physically prepared herself, she and Nova began their long walk to the throne room. Out the door of her bedroom, through the suite, down the winding stairs of the tower they went, Nova walking alongside her in case she lost her balance. The great halls and corridors of the castle formed a labyrinth that Sunset knew like the back of her hoof, one that she could have navigated quickly if she had been so inclined. As she walked through those high-walled passages, however, her hoofsteps echoing loudly in the deathly quiet, she wanted nothing more than to stretch out their journey as much as possible.
She could only delay her fate for so long, unfortunately. Sooner than she would have liked, Sunset found herself standing before the great doors that marked her destination. They loomed high above her, tall and menacing. In Sunset’s anxious mind, they seemed as silent guardians looking down upon her, ready to pass judgment.
She glanced to her side where Nova stood looking straight ahead, unmoving. Nova had managed to restrain her outward excitement from earlier, returning to her usual composed form. To the outside observer, she might have seemed like any normal lady of the court, a model of cool refinement and sophistication. Sunset, however, was not fooled; she knew Nova far too well for that. It was her eyes that gave her away, that thousand-yard stare that signaled to Sunset that she was paralyzed by fear. It was not hard to guess its cause, for Sunset was feeling the same fear in her own heart.
As the two stood in the antechamber, one of the double doors opened a crack, and a guard poked his face through. He leaned in and whispered something to one of the two guards standing at attention in front of the doors. The door guard nodded to his fellow, and the latter retreated, closing the door behind him. The door guards exchanged a silent signal, before snapping back into position. One of them opened his mouth, announcing in a booming voice, “Her Highness will see you now.” In perfect sync, the guards moved to stand by the sides of the portal, facing each other. Their horns lit up as they took hold of the doors and slowly pushed them open.
Sunset swallowed as she watched the last barrier between her and her doom being removed. She tried to summon whatever courage she could, already trying to anticipate what might transpire within that chamber and thinking about how best to escape the wrath of its occupant. Sunset leaned to the side to whisper in Nova’s ear, looking forward the whole time. “Let me do the talking,” she said, trying her best to sound confident; she received no reply. Together, the two mares stepped through the entryway and into the throne room.
Many ponies would have given their left hooves to be where Sunset was right then. Ambitious nobles, wealthy merchants, even humble commoners might have dreamed of getting a private audience with the princess. At that moment, Sunset would have gladly exchanged places with any one of them. She would have no such luck, however. For better or worse, her place was there, approaching the golden throne upon which sat the ruler of all ponydom.
The hoofsteps of the two mares echoed as they walked, sounding like thunder in the still silence of the room. The air was cold enough to give Sunset goosebumps, yet she was already sweating. A loud boom behind her announced the closing of the great doors, but she did not flinch; the entirety of her focus was directed forward, towards her.
She appeared as Sunset had seen her countless times before: sitting statuesquely on the highest level of her terraced throne. Her coat shone like polished ivory, flawless and immaculate. The two powerful wings that sprouted from her back were folded neatly, coiled like vipers ready to strike. Her elegant forelegs were strong enough to crack stone, yet supported her as gracefully as those of a ballerina. The majestic waves of color that were her mane and tail reminded Sunset of depictions she had seen of those strange lights that shimmered in the skies of the icy lands to the North, but none of those had held a candle to what she saw before her.
As Sunset gazed upon Princess Celestia, the wisest and most powerful pony in all the land, and her mentor of many years, the only feature that she was concerned with were those eyes. Every facet of Celestia’s appearance conveyed youth and beauty, all except for those magnificent eyes of hers. When she had had the chance to look at them up close, Sunset had often found herself getting lost in their depths. Those eyes seemed to open up into a vast world of mystery and knowledge that Sunset could not have hoped to understand in a dozen lifetimes. Gazing into them never failed to remind Sunset of exactly who she was dealing with.
Right then, however, those eyes gave her nothing. Celestia’s face was unreadable; no twitch nor twinge nor any other sign betrayed the princess’s inner thoughts. That beautiful face delivered only a very simple message to Sunset as she approached: that Celestia was the one in control, not her.
Sunset and Nova finally reached the end of their walk, feeling as if they had just walked a thousand miles under the heat of the burning sun. The exact distance away they were expected to stop at was unmarked, but Sunset knew the spot by heart, having seen hundreds of ponies from all walks of life prostrate themselves upon it over the years. On rare occasions, even she had had to humble herself in a similar manner.
As one, Sunset and Nova bent their legs and lowered their heads, dropping into deep bows. They held their position for what felt like hours, feeling the heavy weight of the princess’s gaze pressing down on them. The room was silent save for the soft murmur of the water fixtures that decorated the throne. Just as Sunset’s still-weary legs started to ache, the silence was broken by Celestia’s voice. “Rise,” she said flatly, her tone as unemotional as her visage had been.
The two did as their princess commanded, rising back to their full heights. While Sunset turned her gaze toward Celestia, she saw out of the corner of her eye that Nova could not bring herself to follow suit, her head remaining slightly bowed and her eyes downcast. Sunset might have shared Nova’s fear, but that did not mean she was completely despondent. Bracing herself, she attempted to preempt the coming storm with her own words, desperately hoping to soften the inevitable impact by even the slightest amount. “Your Highness, I can explain,” she began, her voice betraying her fragile confidence.
“No, Sunset Shimmer,” said Celestia sternly. “You will listen.” Sunset’s lips snapped shut in a flash; her head dropped as if it had been physically forced down. She immediately regretted opening her mouth, silently cursing herself for her stupidity. “In fact,” the princess continued, “it would probably be best if I explained to you exactly what transpired today so that you can fully appreciate the gravity of the situation.
“This morning, at approximately eleven thirty-eight, you left the castle grounds without permission and fled into the nearby residential district. Your departure was noticed by several patrolling guards, who pursued you for several miles. Despite their best efforts, you were able to elude them, and made your way to the nearby Hesperia Park. There, you rendezvoused with Nova Obscura, her having left the castle shortly before you did.” Sunset began to tremble as Princess Celestia displayed her apparent omniscience regarding her actions. When Nova’s name was spoken, Sunset saw the mare in question visibly tense.
“When you got to the park,” Celestia continued. “You decided to engage in a little...experimentation.” As she said this, Sunset noticed Celestia's horn begin to glow its signature golden yellow, prompting Sunset to raise her eyes once again. Sunset’s heart almost stopped when she saw, floating up from its resting place next to the princess, her notebook. The book floated towards her slowly, before suddenly dropping out of the air and landing unceremoniously at her hooves, its magical support severed. She saw that the book had been severely damaged; pages had been torn and ripped, some missing entirely, and the whole thing bore the marks of water damage.
“You attempted, from what I was able to surmise,” said Celestia, the slightest hint of frustration creeping into her voice, “to create a cloud out of thin air, using a spell of your own creation, a spell which you consulted neither your tutors nor myself in the design of, a spell which you, furthermore, immediately subjected to field testing in an uncontrolled environment, completely ignoring standard procedure for spell development, a spell which was, from its conception to its implementation, ignorant, arrogant, reckless, and downright foolish.” Celestia’s tone had descended from frustration to barely-restrained rage as she spoke, her last words hitting Sunset like slaps across her face.
Princess Celestia took a deep breath, the passion in her voice diminishing slightly. “If you were seeking to demonstrate your power as a unicorn, then I suppose you succeeded,” she said. “There are not many wizards that could boast that they had generated a category-three arcane gravity well all on their own. I doubt many would want to boast of such a thing, either.” Sunset was confused, trying fruitlessly to make sense of the princess’s comment. She vaguely recalled hearing about something like that in her Theoretical Magic class, but her brain was too flustered to assist her. Her ignorance only made the shame of her failure sting even more.
“In any case,” Celestia continued, “you created quite the mess for us to clean up. It is fortunate that I was here in Canterlot and was able to respond quickly. If I and the weather ponies had not taken action when we did, the damage could have been catastrophic. Innocent ponies could have been hurt. You could have been hurt.” Sunset heard something in these last words that made her take pause. Curiosity beating out fear, Sunset raised her head to look upon the princess once again.
When she looked into Celestia’s eyes, Sunset saw something she recognized immediately. She had seen those same eyes looking down on her the day she had been taken into the castle. She had seen them when she had been sick in bed with the flu, and the princess had sat by her bedside. She had seen them the first time she made the princess laugh, all those years ago. They were soft eyes, caring eyes.
As she spoke again, Celestia’s voice changed. Gone was the stern, commanding tone that had greeted them upon their arrival. She sounded weaker, vulnerable, hurt even. “How could you have been so foolish, Sunset?” she said. “Pushing yourself so far to try and hide your mistake. You could have run, you could have gotten help, but you didn’t. You had to do it all on your own, as usual. Does your pride mean that much to you, mean so much that you were willing to endanger your own life as well as the life of your friend?”
Sunset had been quiet up to that point, taking the verbal lashing with as much dignity as she could muster. She could handle having her own ignorance shoved in her face. She could handle being called foolish; at that moment, she would not have disagreed. But the accusation that she would have willingly put Nova in danger for the sake of her pride was not one that Sunset was willing to tolerate, not even from the princess.
As politely as she could, Sunset interjected, “Your Highness, I would never have—“
“Enough, Sunset,” Celestia interrupted. “I don’t want to hear it. This is difficult enough as it is.” A long pause filled the air before Celestia continued. “You, Sunset, are out of control. You blatantly disregard my commands, you galavant about the city doing who knows what, and you shirk your responsibilities to pursue these vanity projects, about which I have heard countless complaints. Fortunately, I think I have finally devised a solution to the problem.”
Those words echoes ominously throughout the room. Sunset’s mind went into overdrive, imagining every possible meaning of the phrase “solution to the problem”, most of which did not comfort her. A shiver ran down her spine.
Celestia spoke yet again, her voice sounding unnervingly friendly. “You want to get out of the castle?” she asked. “You want to see the world? You want a chance to prove yourself? Very well then. I am hereby appointing you, Sunset Shimmer, to the position of royal ambassador, effective immediately.”
Sunset merely stood there, unable to process the words that she had just heard. She knew what they all meant individually, but that particular arrangement sounded to her ears as if it were a foreign language. Her face must have given away her confusion, she realized, as the princess was quick to follow up.
“I see that an explanation is in order,” said Celestia. She straightened herself, returning to her stately and dignified demeanor from earlier. “Equestria is vast country, inhabited by many different types of ponies. Many of these ponies face trouble and hardship in their daily lives, problems of the sort that they cannot resolve on their own. And so, they turn to their princess for aid. Every year, I receive thousands of petitions requesting my assistance in matters of great importance. I do what I can to help Equestria’s citizens, but there is only so much I can do from here in Canterlot, and I cannot be everywhere at once. This is where you come in. As my ambassador, you will act as my eyes, ears, and hooves. You will travel the land and answer their pleas in my stead.”
Sunset stood there, riveted to Celestia’s words as she spoke. When the princess finished, silence hung over the room, with neither student nor teacher sure of who would speak next. Sunset was lost in thought, pondering what this new turn of events would mean for her. Where would she be going? What would she be doing? Did this mean that her studies under the princess were at an end? Was she trying to get rid of her? All these questions and a hundred others raced through her mind.
Deciding that her continued silence would accomplish nothing, Sunset once again risked joining the heretofore one-sided conversation. “Princess, if I may...” she began.
“Speak your mind, Sunset,” said Celestia.
Emboldened by her response, Sunset continued. “This is...quite a lot you’re asking of me,” she said, trying to sound as polite as possible. “I realize that what I did was wrong, and that I probably deserve to be punished, but are you sure about this? This seems like a bit of an...overreaction.” The word almost sounded like a question the way it slunk out of Sunset’s mouth, as if she was unsure whether or not she even wanted to risk going down that road.
The princess raised an eyebrow, but otherwise showed no emotional reaction to having her decision questioned. “I can assure you that I have not made this decision lightly,” she said. “While I appreciate that you recognize your own fault in this, you must also recognize that things cannot continue as they have been. You have always been difficult, Sunset, even as a little filly, but you have also shown great promise. At last, I feel I have found a way to channel your more...adventurous instincts toward something constructive, something that will be a benefit to everyone involved.
As to whether you are capable of performing this role, I have no doubts in my mind. While an aptitude for the magical arts may prove useful in times of trouble, what the ponies of Equestria really need is something much more immaterial, much more personal. They need to know that their princess stands with them, that she has not abandoned them. They need to know that, no matter who they are or where they may be, there is somepony watching over them.”
Sunset was not exactly comforted by what she heard. While the prospect of traveling Equestria, preventing catastrophes, and averting disasters had appealed to her somewhat, the idea of acting as a glorified cheerleader for the princess did not. Despite her apprehensions, Sunset chose not to fight Celestia’s decision. She was tired and had a lot to think about after everything that had happened that day. The last thing she wanted right then was to get in a pointless back-and-forth with the princess, which she knew would do nothing to change her mind. Sunset bowed her head in acknowledgment. “Yes, Your Highness,” she said politely.
A slight smile appeared on Celestia’s face, evidently pleased that her rebellious student had submitted so easily. “There are several preparations that must be made before you begin your mission,” she said. “You will be sent further details over the coming days, but for now, you are dismissed.”
Sunset sighed internally, thankful that the meeting was finally at an end. She wanted nothing more than to get back to her bedroom and throw herself down on her bed. Sunset and Nova repeated their deep bows from earlier, before rising and turning to leave. While Sunset had been too preoccupied to keep an eye on Nova the whole time, she could now see that she was noticeably less tense than she was before, and that her expression had regained a degree of normalcy. The two had not gone three feet when they heard something that plunged them both back into anxiety. “Nova Obscura, remain,” said Celestia from behind.
Sunset’s eyes went wide. In all the years they had known each other, Nova had never been called on to speak with the princess alone. In all of her encounters with Celestia, Sunset had always been there by her side. Whenever they had gotten in trouble, Sunset had always been there to take the blame and bear the brunt of the punishment. The fact that this was happening then, immediately after Sunset had received her own punishment, did not bode well.
Sunset looked over at Nova and saw that she had presumably been thinking something very similar. Nova looked as if she had seen a ghost; her face was pale and her eyes were wide. Sunset knew she had to do something. Nova got nervous speaking with even minor nobles; if she had to speak with the princess...
Sunset whipped back around to face Celestia, her instincts choosing her words on her behalf. “Princess, what happened out there today wasn’t Nova’s fault,” she said. “You can’t punish her for something I did.”
“That is enough, Sunset,” said Celestia sternly.
Sunset was not about to back down, however. “I get that you’re mad, okay?” she said, her voice reflecting her rising passion. “I messed up and I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But don’t take it out on her!”
“Sunset!” said Celestia, although she may as well have been shouting at a brick wall.
Some part of Sunset’s mind, tiny and ignored, was aware of just how great a faux pas she was making by speaking to the princess in such a manner. But Sunset didn’t care; she was no longer thinking rationally. She was not thinking about the consequences, she was not thinking about herself, and she was not even thinking about Nova anymore. Everything that was jostling around in her head, all the fear, all the anger, all the shame, had broken free and was venting itself at the most convenient target of attack.
Her voice reaching its crescendo, Sunset shouted, “You want to send me away, send me somewhere you’ll never have to see me again? Fine! But if you—“
“Sunset Shimmer!” boomed the Princess of Equestria, the unmistakable sound of the royal Canterlot voice making the air itself quake. As she spoke, her great feathered wings unfurled to their full extent, each one as large as a full-grown pony. Her eyes burned with the heat and intensity of the sun. For a brief moment, Celestia seemed to shine, the light of the room reflecting off her pure white body.
Sunset felt like she had been hit by a train. She could neither move nor think; she merely stood there, cowering before the princess. Sunset had lived in the castle since she was a little filly, but had only witnessed Celestia use that dreaded affectation once before. She had not been its target on that particular occasion, but even secondhand, its power had shaken her. Now, it overwhelmed her. Her bones quivered and her skin crawled; her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.
Nopony said anything for a long time. In Sunset’s mind, every passing second felt as long as an hour. Eventually, Princess Celestia spoke, slowly and deliberately, each syllable burning into Sunset’s mind like a brand. “You are dismissed,” she said.
A moment later, Sunset heard something she did not expect to hear. Something which, compared to the tsunami she had just endured, was as soft as a ripple of water in a pond. To her side, Sunset heard the voice of Nova Obscura. “Sunset,” she said, “it’s okay. I’ll be alright.”
Sunset was done; her will was broken. She rose slowly and turned, not having the heart to look at either Nova or Celestia. She walked, her hooves carrying her across the long room. She walked through the great double-doors, which opened as she approached. She walked, not looking back, the doors slamming shut behind her. She walked back though the twisting halls of the castle, back up the stairs of her tower, back to her bedroom. She threw herself down on the bed and slept.
Darkness surrounded her, and fear consumed her. That was the extent of her knowledge; that was all that she knew about the strange world she inhabited. Except, perhaps, for one other thing. While she floated there, frozen in that endless void, she found herself struck by a vague feeling of familiarity, as if she had been there before. But whether that feeling was justified or not was irrelevant. It was merely a tiny speck floating in her mind, tossed about by a stormy sea of fear. Memories, both good and ill, were foreign to her; all she knew was the here and now.
And what she knew was ephemeral at best. She knew the dark, and she knew the fear. She also knew that she was not alone. It was there before her, her mysterious neighbor. It burned with a dark fire, spreading out and consuming all it touched, including her. It burned her body and it burned her mind. The raging blaze filled her up with its fury, forcing everything else out. She knew she would be consumed, that soon there would be nothing left of her. But there was one other thing she knew.
She knew that something was coming; something that was big, and was only growing bigger. It swept toward her, cutting a swath though the darkness like the bright light of day. It left nothing in its wake; all was swept clean by that mighty force. There she was, trapped between two insurmountable enemies; fire and water, light and dark, and her, all alone and at their mercy.