//------------------------------// // 4. You and Lonely You // Story: Empathy for the Devil // by MarvelandPonder //------------------------------// Sunset Shimmer hated seeing herself next to her girlfriend. Intensely. And, okay, self-loathing she’d done before. She was practically a master of masochism. There’d been days after her hellish transformation at the junior year Fall Formal that she didn’t even want to see her own face in the mirror, and only partially out of a paranoia she’d find soulless demon eyes staring back. Celestia, she’d been a mess. This was a new headache-inducing level, especially because it wouldn’t even be her head that was aching.  “What do you mean ‘over there’?” Twilight asked, squinting at Timber who shrunk away from her touch. The subtle hurt in Twilight’s eyes made Sunset want to punch Timber, but then she’d only be punching herself. “Hey!” Timber hollered as he floundered back, again using Sunset’s voice. It reminded Sunset of how she sounded to herself in recordings when the Rainbooms sprung to record some of their songs: a little higher pitched than she would have assumed she sounded to other people, but in this case that also could’ve been the sheer panic.  Twilight drank in the two of them, clearly undecided on who was acting weirder. Sunset resented the fact that Timber twisted around, shrieking at each new facet of his new body—her body. Although in all honesty, she wasn’t making Timber look much more dignified. Sunset ran a hand through her new wild curls and tried (and likely failed) to hide her dismay that Timber’s biceps were leagues stronger than hers based on how easy it was to flex. Judging by Twilight’s paled expression, she connected the dots like constellations in a star map. Her eyes grew as she looked toward Sunset. “Wait… Sunset Shimmer?” Sunset tore her gaze up from examining her now work-worn hands. She almost didn’t want to open her mouth and hear herself speak in Timber Spruce’s voice again, but something in her expression was enough to confirm it. “Ooo… oh boy,” Twilight murmured, fresh horror settling over her expression as Timber clapped his hands over his backside, blushing. “Is everything okay?”  Flash bounded over from the kitchen, only sparing a single apologetic glance to the other alarmed restaurant guests before spotting Sunset. A smile lifted up his whole face. He clutched at his own chest, the breath leaving him like a spirit. “Timber! We were looking everywhere for you! Are you okay? Where did you even go? There was a search party and—” Sunset pushed a hand into his chest before Flash could get any closer. “Dude, dude! I’m not Timber!” That was enough to knock the enthusiasm from Flash’s face. “I, uh... what?” “I don’t know how it happened, but I’m Sunset,” she affirmed, weirding herself out. She jacked a thumb to the left. “That’s Timber.” They turned to find Timber smushing his cheeks at his reflection in the fancy water fountain as if he could put his face back to normal if he tried hard enough. Frankly, it was a better theory than any Sunset had since she had no earthly idea how or why this happened. Fancy Pants wasn’t far behind Flash when he heard the commotion they had caused in his dining area. He cleared his throat, and the disapproval in that alone told Sunset she wouldn’t be getting her reservation refunded. If it wasn’t official before, human-world Equestrian magic sucked.  The keys took a little jimmying to unlock the door to Sunset’s apartment. Sunset gave it an extra rough twist. One thing or another perpetually needed repairs around here: leaky faucet, wonky heater, even busted electricity for the whole complex once.  The door finally deemed them worthy enough to enter, deining to let them in. Instantly, Sunset was met with a weird sensation: being able to detect her own smell as if this was another person’s home or like she’d gone on vacation for a long time. It wasn’t a bad smell, at least. Kind of sweet in fact, in a musky sort of way. At least the smell wasn’t something she had to worry about, but she hadn’t exactly been expecting guests, so her apartment was a bit of a mess, take-out boxes and laundry galore. Fantastic, she thought. Now Timber thinks I live in a dump. Sunset led the way, followed closely by her lookalike who gaped at the place like he couldn’t believe someone could live here. Timber stood by the two-story window, watching the fat snowflakes settle down over the city through lights closer to lighthouses than streetlights, before he grinned at her. “Whoa, this is your apartment? You live in a sit-com!” Shoving a leftover Ponyacci’s Pizza box into the trash and turning on the heater that would take too much time to kick in, Sunset furrowed her brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Timber raced from the window to the futon as if doing so would hurtle him forward through time to Hearth’s Warming morning. Sunset didn’t know if she’d ever seen herself so excited. Maybe felt that way, sure, but she doubted she had a mirror handy when it happened. Timber bounced on the futon. “This is the kind of place people live in on TV! You know, downtown vista view, within walking distance of your friends, actually hearing cars from the street driven by real live people?” He turned back with a childlike smile on his face. “You live like this?” “Uh, yeah,” she sputtered, leaning against the post holding up her second floor, arm overhead. “It’s no palace, but what is in this economy?”  Sunset Shimmer understood little to nothing about the human economy other than the fact that people made jokes about it. She was fine with this. While Timber made her look like a doofus in her own home, Sunset noticed a familiar face outside on the fire escape. She went over past the couch to open the window for a fat orange tabby cat. Sunset smirked at him. “How do you even get yourself up there, fatso?” “Mrreow,” said the cat, wriggling out of Sunset’s grasp to plop down on the hardwood. Timber gasped, watching the stray slink around the couch on silent paws. “And you have a cat!? Seriously, are we on a sit-com sound-stage right now?”  “Yeah, he’s mine, but try telling him that. I found him in an alley on my walk to school, and one day he followed me back here. He does what he wants.” Sunset folded her arms, proud of the little monster. “These days he usually finds a way home at night, but I let him come and go as he pleases. Couldn’t stop him if I wanted to.” The alley cat crept up to the couch, paused, then jumped up to find a good sitting spot which just so happened to be on Timber’s lap—a fact that delighted Timber to no end.  “Holy crap! He likes me!” Sunset frowned. “Wait, no, he likes me. Stop it, you’re confusing him.” Timber scratched under the kitty’s fuzzy little chin. “Aww, he’s just a lil’ hobo, huh? Is that his name? Lil’ Hobo?” “He’s not a hobo,” Sunset said, choosing not to mention the box the cat was living in beforehand. “He just chooses to live his own life and only go home when he wants. What’s wrong with that?” Her kitty decided now was a good time to start kneading Timber’s thigh as if preparing dough for delectible muffins. Timber giggled like a dork. “Oh my goodness, he’s such a good boy! Okay, really what’s his name? Lucky? Houdini? Chance? Ooo, I know! Warlock, Master of Equestrian Magicks.” “...his name is Scruffers,” Sunset mumbled, arms crossed. “And sometimes he’s a good boy.” Rather than snickering at her, Timber was too busy using Sunset’s Pet Owner voice, the not quite baby talk (but yeah, baby talk) that she only ever did in total privacy. “N’awww, lil’ Scruffers Shimmer! Your Mama must love you so much! I would have gone with Macaroni, but that’s even better. That’s a good name for a baby boy, yes it is, yes it is!” In some weird twist of fate, Sunset suspected Scruffers would have preferred the name Macaroni since the dumbbell ate a whole pot of it once when Sunset left it out on the counter. Made himself sick, too. Sunset stayed up with him that whole night until he was done coughing up noodles. She made sure Scruffers knew where his food bowl was from then on. Sunset sighed, plopping down next to Timber. “Okay, he likes you a little bit. You can make friends with my cat after we figure this out, alright?” They’d already tried switching back after they were kicked out of Le Grand’s and again when Twilight and Flash had to head home because it was getting too late, but Sunset wasn’t Equestria’s most naturally gifted magical prodigy for nothing. Even if all her records had likely been broken by Princess Twilight. With determination steeling her mighty gaze, she held out her hand as if to start an arm-wrestling match or, failing that, declare a thumb-war. “One more time. Concentrate, okay?” Timber nodded, grabbing her hand and shutting his eyes. He let Scruffers down from his lap, whom waddled off in search of his food bowl, just in case the cat got swept up in their body switching magic. “On it, boss.”  As far as Sunset could tell, touch had been a huge factor in everyone’s magic-sharing so far. Flash and Timber discovered they had magic by holding hands, she and Twilight learned they could heal the same way, and Flash only needed to touch her shoulder to put her emotions on blast across Canterlot High’s entire campus.  She suspected it wasn’t necessarily required for it to happen. Mostly because if Timber’s teleportation power wasn’t somehow amplified by Flash today, Timber had unbelievable reach with that thing. Maybe touch is a conduit, the mage-in-training inside her thought. It makes the connection stronger, but if you’ve got a strong enough connection already, you could probably do it hands-free.  She gripped Timber’s hand tighter. Technically, she gripped her own hand tighter, which she still hadn’t been able to fully wrap her head around. Sunset grimaced. “Okay. This is new magic, but it’s more than likely bound to work on the same rules as every other magic I’ve encountered in this world. So, that narrows it down. A bit. It’s either we were demonstrating the truest parts of ourselves at the same time, our friendship was really powerful, or we had something important in common.” Timber pressed his lips together. “So… anything in common?” “Not anything. Magic is always emotion-based at its core. That’s why true friendship is so powerful,” Sunset reiterated. She could feel her throat constrict as she thought back to what she was feeling before the switch when her date with Twilight had been interrupted. “Timber?” He was focusing so hard he made her look constipated, but he opened one teal eye. “Yeah, new best friend?” “You have to be honest with me, okay? We need to fix this,” she warned, the anger building behind her deeper voice like a storm gathering in the distance over the sea. “What were you feeling right before the switch?” Timber made Sunset’s face look unreadable. “Happy to be back,” he told her. “I spent most of the day in a foreign country taking fishing lessons from a Northweigian ice-fisher. I didn’t know if I could get back on my own. I felt bad for spoiling your date, but mostly, I just felt relieved I hadn’t teleported into a Haywaiian volcano.” She studied him for a moment longer but didn’t overdo it. Accusing Timber of wanting to steal her girl wouldn’t solve anything (maybe from his perspective wanting to steal her back?), nor would it make them bond as friends. What was weirder, though, was how they had enough of a bond to share magic at all.  She didn’t want to say it aloud and ruin their chances at swapping back, but she felt like she barely knew Timber. Any of the girls or Flash she could understand sharing a strong, mystical bond with: she’d worked her ass off for those friendships and all of them had done the same in turn. She let Timber close his eyes again to concentrate but kept her gaze trained on him. So why Timber? After a good hour or so of trying anything and everything Sunset could think of, along with some admittedly inventive suggestions from Timber, the two of them sighed simultaneously—which was about the only thing they could do in tandem, apparently.  Sunset ran a hand through her hair, both messing up the wild green curls and taking off the Northweigian hat in the process. She swore, which she hadn’t heard Timber’s voice do before. “It’s getting late. Maybe we should… try again in the morning?” Timber nodded, rubbing his neck and chewing his cheek. “Yeah. I dunno know about you, but my body needs its beauty sleep.” He looked at her earnestly. “Wait, do you actually need less sleep than a human?” She made a face. “I know you think I’m an alien, but I’m not literally from outer space, you know that right?” “Yeah, it’s just, horses need about two or three hours of sleep on average and you’re a pony so I thought… nevermind.” He wiped the air clean like a chalkboard. “Human body. Probably has human body needs. That’s logic for you.” “Pfft. Yeah. I’m a pony, but I love sleep too much to only ever get a power-nap.” She stood up, stretching out the extra gangly legs and surprisingly muscle-toned arms she now possessed. It still bugged her to feel how strong Timber’s body was. She crossed those stupidly strong arms over her flat chest.  That was also going to take some getting used to—and she knew from when the mirror turned her into a human that this sort of adjustment could take a while to feel completely natural. Months, at the earliest.  Sunset just hoped she wouldn’t have the time to adjust. “You can take the couch for tonight. It folds down,” Sunset told him, which made his eyes light up again as if that was the real magic going on here. She watched him play with the couch. “I’ll be upstairs in the bed, if you need anything.” “You know, technically speaking, since I’m you wouldn’t the bed be…” He saw her expression and managed to live to tell the tale. Timber nodded. “Yours. Yep, that sure is your bed.” In getting ready to sleep, it wasn’t exactly like Sunset could follow her usual bedtime routine. (Okay, even on a non-magical night, ‘routine’ was an extremely loose term to the point of not having a definition; assuming she didn’t stay up until the sun rose playing video games and/or recording Shimmer Code, Sunset only crashed when she felt like it). Everything was different. In fact, she only got to the point of opening her pajama drawer before a tsunami of blood rushed to her cheeks. “...Tartarus.” She thumped partway down the staircase from the loft. “So… how do we… do we just stay in our day clothes?” Timber, who had ditched the heels but was still wearing the Daydream dress from Sunset’s date, stared up at her. “Or new ground rule: we just, you know, close our eyes and don’t touch the delicates. Even if you accidentally peek, you haven’t seen worse in the locker rooms at school, right?” She eyed him. “Okay,” she allowed, “but you’re not going to peek, right?” Timber made a motion with his hand Sunset didn’t recognize but followed it up by saying, “Scout’s honour. No peeking.” After a moment’s doubt, she threw a pair of pajamas at his face. She thought he’d appreciate having Flash’s old shirt she’d forgotten to give back from way back when they were dating. He let her change first in the bathroom. She managed it alright, keeping her eyes shut and feeling around as little as possible. The shirt with her cutie mark on the front was backwards the first time she tried, and even when fixed, it rode up Timber’s taller body, but it would do.  Then when it was Timber’s turn, all was fine until he came out of the bathroom grinning. Sunset was beginning to not trust her own smile. “You have a tattoo?!” Bolting up from the couch, Sunset glowered at him. “Dude! What happened to scout’s honour?!” “Oh, sorry no, that sounds bad. I wasn’t looking around! I saw it in the mirror when I turned away, just out of the corner of my eye. Getting a tattoo between the shoulder blades must’ve been painful, though, it’s right on the spine.” It had been, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. Timber held up his hands in the very likely event she would attack but grinned as if they were having a friendly conversation over milkshakes at Sweet Snacks Diner. “It’s a nice design. What’s the sun mean?” Determined to keep glaring at him, Sunset was quickly getting frustrated that Timber didn’t intimidate easily. Maybe she was a little rusty at thuggish intimidation? That should’ve been a comfort but at the moment was just annoying. She could feel the flush in her cheeks, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. “...It’s an important symbol in Equestrian culture,” she murmured, because that wasn’t totally a lie. Many ponies would contend that Princess Celestia’s cutie mark held more cultural significance than any other symbol in the nation’s history. Is that going to change to Princess Twilight’s cutie mark now? Will everypony forget about Princess Celestia? She blanched. If Princess Twilight was taking over for the Princess and her sister, what would happen to Celestia and Luna? Where would they go? What would they do? The idea of Princess Celestia retiring weighed down like a stone sat in her stomach, heavy and indigestible.  Timber bit his cheek, nodding. At the very least, he could read when he’d touched a nerve, but that didn’t stop him from picking up the smart TV remote. “That’s cool, it sounds really meaningful.” And almost without a breath in between he went on, “You wanna see what I mean about sit-coms? I swear there’s at least one show with a studio apartment like this on prime time at any given point. Plus, you can tell me about what kind of shows you like.” He waggled the remote from the couch. “Sharing interests is one of the best ways to bond, new best friend.” Sunset snorted softly. “That’s… not the worst logic I’ve ever heard. Although I've never ponyed up from watching movies with the girls.” He pointed the clicker at her as if he could change that attitude of hers. “Sounds like you’re not watching the right movies.” In all the many times in her life that Sunset had rolled her eyes they’d always been her own, but doing it in Timber’s body wasn’t really a new experience to write home about. She was at least glad to feel the heater starting to kick in. She didn’t have heavy blankets to offer him, just the one Rarity knit for her when Sunset mentioned she didn’t have a lot last winter.  It wasn’t long after the Battle of the Bands, actually, during the first holiday season Sunset spent with anyone since her Hearth’s Warmings alongside Princess Celestia. A smile guided itself up. She remembered how it felt to have that blanket wrapped around her shoulders while Pinkie Pie gave her a mug of hot chocolate just like the rest of her friends. Their friends.  The girls can help us tomorrow, she thought, kicking herself for worrying. They always help me figure things out.  Sparing a glance towards the static of snow out the window, Sunset smiled at Timber, who’d wrapped that cozy blanket around himself in front of the television. “Nah. Think I’ll get that beauty sleep your body needs. You can watch what you want, the TV has a lot of shows,” she informed him. There had been plenty of times back in Equestria that she would’ve loved to change channels on a play Princess Celestia dragged her to (if she knew what changing channels was back then).  The channel he happened to flick onto, the Canterlot Broadcasting Corporation, and their gruff evening news host passed it over to their junior news correspondent, Gabby Griffon. Gabby rambled on with an impressive, if squeaky lung capacity, pointing towards an on-screen graphic: a live feed of the rip in space-time above Canterlot City. After an excessively flashy news intro with its own theme music, the phrase CrackWatch scrolled across the screen on repeat.  Timber snorted like a fourth-grader. “Thanks, Gruff!” A “feh” could be heard from off-screen but Gabby seemed undisturbed. “This freaky-deaky meteorological event is still super duper loco in the coco! But that’s why we’re keeping you up to date with our ‘round the clock coverage! No need to be afraid!”  Timber hummed. “Well, glad there’s no need. I’m ahead of the game.” Sunset frowned. ‘Round the clock coverage? Are people that worried? “Day thirty-seven of CrackWatch! Today at noon, the crack ate a bird and spat it back out on the other side on fire! Our avian experts say that isn’t normal, but that somehow the lil’ guy is in… beak condition!”  Sunset squinted at the footage on the screen. Her eyes bulged and she rounded the couch to get a better look. "Holy shit, is that a phoenix?" The flames shimmered in familiar patterns, much the same way Sunset's pet phoenix used to back in Equestria. Despite being in the wrong body, muscle memory brought back the sensation of the burns she got from cuddling her little baby. She held her arm. She remembered it all too well to mistake the colouring and intensity for anything but a full-blown phoenix. What the hell's on the other side of that tear? Timber didn't seem to know what to think. He looked to her to gauge how spooked he should be. If Twilight's law of trouble magnetism had any truth to it, and Celestia help them if it did, Sunset couldn't help shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong with that tear. She hadn't studied omens extensively in her time under the Princess, mostly because she'd been too prideful to admit anything would ever go wrong for her ever, but she didn't need her old text for Intro to Omens and Prophecy to forewarn her that her heart was sinking. Timber must have sensed her shift in mood and changed the channel to something with a laugh-track. He offered the space on the couch next to him. Sunset bade him goodnight without much of a second glance, and it really wasn’t to be rude, but she was exhausted. She’d inherited a body that had used an obscene amount of magic that day, teleporting across the globe and back and not even to mention the body swap itself. She could feel it most in Timber’s calves, possibly because of the landings. But, really, that was only half the reason. Only stopping to fill Ray's food bowl and give him a pet that he slunk away from, she clambered up to bed (on muscles she could already tell would be sore in the morning) partly because watching TV with the guy who barged in on what should’ve been one of the most magical nights of her life left, to put it lightly, a bit of a sour taste.  Even Scruffers, who’d parked himself in his spot on the end of her bed, got up and slunk away when she came to give him his night-time snuggles. She sighed. That cat didn’t play well with others. Down below, almost too fast for that lazy cat to move, she heard Timber chuckle, “Oh, why hello, Sir Scruffington!” Grumbling, Sunset flopped over on the bed and frowned down at the feet now hung off the end of her double-sized bed. Even despite that, the bed felt empty and vast for the first time since she’d gotten it, but all she could really do about it was hug the extra pillow next to her with the sounds of a sit-com playing with the volume low down below. An unshakable chill settled over Canterlot High. Despite what the weather reporter predicted, the snow stayed overnight and the winter storm carried on. At this point, the snow drifted soundlessly, gathering below boots and piling onto the base of the broken Wondercolt statue.  The school itself was tropically warm by comparison, so Sunset could get away with not wearing a winter jacket. She’d tried to put on her leather jacket this morning, but Timber’s arms and torso were so much longer than her that she looked like a dweeb trying too hard to be cool. Plus, even if she was currently residing in it, she didn’t like the look of Timber’s body in one of her jackets. Too weird. As the morning announcements began over the loudspeaker, the two of them walked through the front entrance side by side. Sunset watched him undo the leather jacket he was wearing to stay in character. “If we can’t switch back ourselves,” she said, grimacing, “maybe the girls and I can pony-up and use that magic to set things right again. We’ve still got time before Princess Twilight’s coronation.” No one should have to endure that coronation as me. All that pity… Sunset shuddered. She also tried to reason that she shouldn't even be worried about that yet. One problem at a time, for one, and for two, the coronation was still a while off. They’d only just sent off the RSVP. If all went as planned today, Princess Twilight wouldn’t have to be bothered with another one of Sunset’s magical screw-ups.  Timber looked like he had too many questions about the magical undo button she’d just suggested, but Derpy and Bulk Biceps waved good morning as they passed by her locker. “Morning, Sunset! Hope you’re feeling better!” “Oh, hey!” Timber said brightly, without missing a beat while Sunset had to stop herself from raising her hand. Passing by, Vinyl Scratch gave him a fist bump followed by another wave from Dizzy and his boyfriend. Juniper Montage even pointed a camera his way. Timber flashed the lens a winning smile, which made Juniper herself light up behind the camera. She stopped recording to review that bit of footage with Wallflower Blush who nodded approvingly.  “Thanks for the great shot!” Juniper gushed, replaying it over and again. “The lighting in the halls is so meh but that showmanship! You could give me a run for my money.” Sunset highly doubted that; she’d seen Juniper’s demo reel (her rendition of Shadow Spade and the fierce pirate Captain Celaeno were downright awards-worthy). Unless she meant being a total ham, in which case, sure, Timber could out-ham a hog on Applejack’s farm. At the very least, it seemed to make Juniper and Wallflower happy. “That’s going to be so perfect for our production, Canterlot High: A Retrospective…” “Hey, anytime,” Timber told her, and when he and Sunset had gotten far enough down the hall that the other students couldn’t overhear, Timber beamed to her. “You didn’t tell me you were a celebrity. I would’ve bought stupidly overpriced shades! I would’ve called my sister and told her I made it!” “I’m not,” Sunset muttered, noticing confused looks from the other students when she tried waving at them. She gave up, shoving her hands in her pockets like she’d seen Timber do on habit before. “Welcome to Canterlot High.” Sandalwood came up to them next, looking pensive and unsure before giving Timber a great big bearhug.  “Whoa!” Timber froze at first, then let himself hug back with a small smile. “...Heh. Uh, hi to you too, big guy...” Sunset rolled her eyes. “You can let go now, Sandalwood.” Sandalwood noticed Sunset was there, possibly for the first time, and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, hey. Do I know you?” Sunset shook her head.  As they went on their way, Sunset explained to Timber in brief about the magical oversharing she’d done thanks to Flash, but Timber didn’t seem as second-hand embarrassed as Sunset thought he should be. She tried again: “Everybody in school’s been treating me with kid gloves ever since. They pity me.” Timber giggled as if tickled by the silliest idea he could think of. “Pity you? What are you talking about? You basically own the place!” She winced at his wording but didn’t make a thing of it. Come to think of it, Sunset didn’t even know how much Twilight had told Timber about her past at this school, but if he didn’t know the details, she thought it might be easier to let sleeping dogs lie.  Grumbling at the coffee-machine, Vice Principal Luna muttered in a strangely archaic, nightmarish voice, "Who would dare use the last creamer?" before offering Timber a warm cocoa in a paper cup. She'd even sprung for marshmallows. "Do let us know if you need to talk, Miss Shimmer." "I will," Timber replied. "You know me, Sunset "Talks About her Feelings" Shimmer!" Sunset huffed as they traveled on. The morning announcements likewise continued overhead, with Principal Celestia’s voice carrying over the sound of students shoving away coats and other wintery gear into their lockers. “I’m pleased to announce Taco Tuesday now has more vegan and vegetarian options….” “See? This is what I’m talking about,” Sunset said, glaring at the speaker as if it were exhibit A. “She’s doing that for me because she feels sorry for me and knows I don’t eat meat. I’m pretty much the only student who doesn’t⁠.” Which, okay, wasn’t entirely true. Fluttershy and Bulk Biceps were vegetarian, too, and that was just the two she knew about. But still the timing made it stupidly obvious: “It’s a pity vegetarian option.” Timber’s eyes widened. “Well, I would assume all vegetarian options are offered out of pity. If you can’t eat bacon, what gets you out of bed in the morning?” Sunset bit back her sass. She didn’t feel like playing herself on top of everything.  The announcements went on. “And finally, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge a very important subject: student health and well-being. Over the past few semesters, Vice Principal Luna and I have watched you all with pride and admiration as you’ve come together in the face of real danger and school pressures alike.” They walked toward the girls’ lockers, which were grouped together on the third floor (a favour they’d called in after the Friendship Games). Sunset couldn’t tell for sure if Twilight had told the girls about their situation yet because all of them were just as interested as she was in hearing the Principal’s announcement. They barely even acknowledged the two joining them in the hall. “Due to all this, as well as more recent events,” Celestia continued, (making Sunset sigh through her nose), “I’ve moved forward with the decision to hire a new student guidance counsellor at Canterlot High.” Twilight gaped as if seeing a second sun in the sky. “New guidance counsellor? Why do we need a new guidance counsellor? Principal Celestia is a great guidance counsellor!” “Stop saying 'guidance counsellor',” Rainbow Dash told her, grabbing some gym clothes from her messy locker. “And chillax, would ya?” “I might, if that were a word.”  Fluttershy cut in with a gentle hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “I think this might be a good thing. Everyone needs someone to listen.” While Sunset’s friends had been talking, the Principal’s announcements contuned, so Sunset only caught the tail end after Applejack tapped a finger over her lips.  “...which is why I’d like you all to give a Wondercolt welcome to Solstice Shiver.” A deeper voice came on the announcements. Baritone, even classically operatic. “Thank you, Principal Celestia. That’s very kind,” he said, a calm smile hidden in his voice. “Students of Canterlot High. I’d like to start by saying I know this is an exceptional school for more than its impressive grade point average.” Sunset traded looks with Twilight.  “Your Principal has trusted me with the knowledge of what’s gone on here, and I have to admit I’m in awe of you. For an entire student body to be so brave in the face of otherworldly magic…” he marveled, “we could all hope to learn from you.” The girls smiled (and shook their heads) as Rainbow Dash laughed. “Ha! I like this guy! Tells it like it is!” “But most importantly, I’d like you to know you’re not alone in anything, but especially not in this. I’ve dealt with magic like this since I was your age, in fact, and it can be beaten. The trauma and heartache magic causes is difficult, and it’s important to acknowledge that difficulty in order to overcome it. Let’s have hope. So please,” Solstice said. “Come by my office by the cafeteria anytime if you’d like to talk. It takes courage to share which is why I’m always here to listen.”