It started to rain.
Princess Celestia gazed solemnly forward, a somber and tired expression overtaking her regal features. Gravely, she turned around and slunk back into the house. Principal Celestia watched as her doppelganger exuded defeat, unsure of how to respond.
Twilight took a step away from the doorway in attempt to follow after Sunset. However, the Principal jumped forward and grabbed her shoulder, turning her back around.
"Don't," she ordered. Hearing the similarity between the two Celestias' voices, Twilight went rigid with compliance. "Sunset needs time. We need to leave her alone to let her calm down."
"Okay," Twilight said reluctantly, "Then I need to talk with Celestia."
"She may not be in the best spot right now either."
Twilight steeled her gaze and pushed past the Principal into the house. "I'm not going to sit around and do nothing."
Princess Celestia had sunken dejectedly across the couch, absent-mindedly staring forward. Twilight stomped up to her and planted herself directly in front of the monarch.
"Princess," she said, grabbing her attention, "it's great to see that you're here. We know how to stop the Changelings. It would be easier to explain if Sunset was here, but you sort of lost us on that one."
The Princess attempted to regain her composure. "That's wonderful, Twilight. How has it been? With Sunset, I mean."
"It's been great," she responded. "It's amazing to interact with another student of yours. She's shown me so much of this world already. I would have loved to meet her before everything went down, but somepony never bothered to mention anything about her to me."
The Princess sighed, half of a wince crossing her face. "Please, Twilight, I—"
"What did you do to her? What's the difference between her tutelage and mine that gave me the Elements of Harmony and threw her away like yesterday's trash? Why wouldn't you tell me about her?" pleaded Twilight, a raw edge to her voice.
"I have nothing to say. Any explanation I can give you is not worthy enough. I could have countless reasons, but ultimately, it doesn't change anything. I have . . . only recently realized this. I'm sorry to you as well, Twilight, for getting wrapped up in our feud."
"Whatever. I'm not the one who deserves an apology." Twilight turned around and, seeing the Principal in the corner, gave a disappointed look. "And you were supposed to stay out of this. That was the one thing Sunset asked you to do."
The Princess shifted upward onto the couch to speak. "Hold on, Twilight. I roped her in. That blame falls squarely on my shoulders as well."
Twilight gritted her teeth and gave a quick glance back at the Princess. Deciding not to continue, she moved closer to the Principal. "I'll save it for later then. We came here originally to retrieve a few items Sunset handed to you. A jacket with a flash drive inside, I believe. Or something along those lines?"
The Principal nodded. "Yes, we do have that. I will grab it for you."
Princess Celestia stood up. "I have something to give as well." She walked over to the counter and grabbed an old rusty tome with what looked to be her own cutie mark on the front. She went back to Twilight and gently placed it in her hands. "Give this back to Sunset," she said. "I left her a message on the last written page. Only she can read it, but do not force her if she doesn't want to. I cannot in good mind force her to do anything, anymore."
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Is it a better attempt at an apology?"
"Perhaps," the Princess responded. "Hopefully a more effective one, if what I have been told about how she feels is true."
Principal Celestia walked back over to Twilight. "Here is the jacket, and there is a flash drive hidden in an inside pocket," she said, handing it out to Twilight. She grabbed it and folded it over her shoulder.
The Princess went back to the counter and grabbed an old school notebook, worn from years of study. She set it on top of the journal. "I have something for you, Twilight, as well."
"And what's this?" Twilight asked, peering at the unsuspecting cover.
"A notebook that Starswirl the Bearded wrote in to describe this world. He created this portal, or was at least the one who understood it the most. There are quite a few interesting findings inside."
Despite Twilight's conflicted emotions at the moment, she could never resist the opportunity to read a one-of-a-kind Starswirl the Bearded text, and with as muted a squeal as possible she flipped through the short notebook, taking in the general findings. "So . . . Starswirl theorizes that there is magic in this world?"
"Yes, and I believe he is right. Anytime somepony crosses over, they take a small amount of magic from Equestria with them. It either permeates across the world or concentrates in a specific area. In order for the portal in this world to even function, a small amount of magic must exist to connect to the mirror in Equestria."
"Are there any concentrated areas of magic we know of?"
"Besides the Canterlot High statue, just one," the Princess said wearily, "but Chrysalis has stored all of her bodies there; it's her second home base. Camp Everfree, in the forest east of here, has a rock quarry with a set of caves underneath. The caves are flush with magic. I am not sure if any more areas exist, but if you find another way to access magic in this world, do not hesitate to try."
Twilight pondered the thought. "I have no idea how . . ."
"I know you can find a way, my faithful student."
A twinge of anger appeared Twilight's mind. "Don't call me that," she spat out. It shocked her just as much as Princess Celestia.
" . . . Excuse me?"
"Faithful," she said, indignation rising within her. "I had no idea that you valued that word so much. That every time you titled me 'faithful' you were slighting your other student, even years after she had left your life completely."
The Princess was taken aback. "Surely, Twilight, you understand it's just a saying—"
"Well it doesn't work anymore! Why do you need me to be faithful when you show none of that faith yourself? Where was your faith in Sunset when you banished her out of your castle? Where was your faith in me when I warned you that something was wrong with Cadance? I just . . ." she growled in frustration. "I'm going. If there's anything else you need, then we'll come back to get it, and hopefully you and Sunset can work something out. Until then, I have a friend to console."
Twilight spun away from Celestia and stormed to the door, slamming it shut behind her without a goodbye. Princess Celestia stared on, waiting to see if Twilight would turn around to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to do anything she had always done since the day they had met.
She never returned.
The Principal walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It will work itself out," she consoled.
"It will do better than that," said the Princess. She turned to the Principal, tears streaming down her cheeks, and smiled. "Now I am certain those too will be able to handle themselves, with or without me." She wiped her eyes. "I just wish it didn't hurt so much."
Sunset stretched out across the rooftop and let the rain wash over her. She was completely drenched already, so there was no point in seeking shelter now.
The afternoon had come and gone, and for no particular reason she found herself on the roof of her apartment. So much for running away.
That was what she was doing, though. Running away.
It was not too far fetched to suggest that she connected this house with running away. She had gravitated toward this part of town when she first arrived in this world, and she could not even fathom living in another area of this world. Maybe it was the perfect distance where she was far enough away to feel free but close enough to never fully escape Equestria's grasp.
Escape, or just another form of prison?
She thumped her fist against the cold rooftop, letting the sound echo into the open air. Her back was killing her; whatever had made it start to feel better throughout the day had disappeared, leaving behind a hot ache that not even the rain could cool. She gazed upon the clouds, wondering if the rain would pick up any more.
She hoped so. More clouds meant less sun.
She wiped her face, flicking off all of the water that had been collecting on it for the past few minutes. All the water on her body made her feel dirty, like she was caked in mud.
Someone was climbing up the steps to the rooftop. Sunset made no effort to lift her head and check.
"There you are!" said Twilight, cresting over the rooftop and racing over to Sunset. She held her bundle of items in hand, shielding them from the rain with Sunset's jacket. "I've been looking for you all afternoon! I guess I should have checked up here earlier."
Sunset closed her eyes, refusing to respond.
"I have some things for you. Here's your jacket, and the flash drive—I grabbed your computer from downstairs if you want to get started on Anon-A-Miss. Your journal . . . the Princess left a note for you," she said nervously.
Sunset lifted her hands into the air, as if calling the rain down upon her.
"Sunset . . . I gave her a good talking to. I tried to show her how you feel. I don't know if I did a good job, but I tried . . . she is sorry."
Sunset sat up and grimaced. "She's not fucking sorry," she spat. "She's a goddamn diplomat. She's sorry because she thinks I can save her ass."
Twilight gave a crestfallen look and stepped closer to her. "Sunset, I understand why you think that, but there has to be a way to make amends—"
"You know how I know that she's not sorry?" she interrupted with a glare. "It's what she said. I trust you. Bullshit. She never trusted me. Not once. I spent the first two years under her tutelage with a magical inhibitor locked to my horn, and she has the gall to say she trusts me."
A perplexed expression crossed Twilight's face. "What? An inhibitor?"
Sunset laughed grimly. "I guess I still haven't told you. When you became the Princess's student, you had a magical surge, right? It's the hidden prerequisite the Princess requires. She needs to know that her student has astronomical potential."
Twilight nodded. "I did, yes."
"And what did the surge entail?" Sunset questioned.
"I was supposed to hatch a dragon egg, and I ended up fully growing it in an instant. I turned my parents into potted plants," she half-laughed. "After everything was fixed, I realized that I got my cutie mark."
"How cute," Sunset said in a bitter voice that had not come out previously in the past week. "What a fun story to tell your friends. Nopony got hurt."
Twilight furrowed her brow in worry. "What happened to you, Sunset?"
"I have no idea," Sunset said. "I don't remember it happening. No one does. Technically, it never happened at all."
"What?"
She brushed her matted hair out of her face and stared directly into Twilight's eyes. "My parents, Twilight. They're gone. Not dead, but gone. My magical surge wiped them from existence."
Twilight took a step back. "That's not possible," she said, dumbfounded. "That's dark magic that would take years of training to accomplish. It's a spell that goes beyond just innate talent; you would need special training to pull it off so quickly."
"I'm not lying," Sunset said, a dour expression flashing across her face as she noticed Twilight's increased distance between her, "They're gone. All that's left are their physical footprints in the world; the places they walked, the money they spent . . . me. I don't know their names, what they looked like, how they treated me, what my legacy is. My grandparents forgot they had children, Twilight, because I couldn't control my magic. That's why she doesn't trust me. I wouldn't either."
"But . . . what about your childhood? How did you survive without parents?"
"It took ponies a month to realize something was wrong. They had a sense of déjà vu, as if there was somepony they needed to see, or that their memories suddenly felt incomplete. Eventually, the royal guard found me huddled alone in my house and discovered that the names on my birth certificate had disappeared.
"One of my parents must have been an important public figure, because even Celestia sensed that something was wrong. I was put on trial for life imprisonment. If I had been an adult, it probably would have been execution. You know how long it has been since a murder in Equestria; I went a step beyond that, according to the law. The Princess always spouted off about how she would never kill anypony, like she expected me to be grateful to her. I just couldn't believe her—I still can't. She would've sent me straight to Tartarus if I I even hinted that I didn't regret doing it. I guess it was inevitable that we would both start off on the wrong hoof."
Twilight sat down next to Sunset, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Wow . . . I'm sorry, I just . . . how did you get out of the trial?"
"It was the Princess. She decided that I had enough power in me to 'redeem myself through study,' so I became her student. The nobility was in an uproar when they found out. They thought I was going to erase her, too, and that the nation would collapse without anypony realizing it."
Twilight frowned, and the two fell into silence, the raindrops filling the empty void.
"Anything you want to ask? Anytime somepony found out when I was filly, I wouldn't be getting any work done for the day."
Twilight gave a worried look. "Well, I'm sorry if this offends you, but . . . aren't you indebted to Princess Celestia? You would be in prison without her right now."
"Hell no," Sunset said. "I would rather be rotting in prison right now, instead of stuck doing this shit. I deserve to spend my life in there. I tried to run away from my destiny, by coming to this world. I'm so far into the thick of things now that backing out and living the easy closed off to me long ago. At the time, I figured that if I can't turn back, I might as well shoot for the stars, but . . . I'm not so sure anymore."
"Sunset . . ." Twilight said disappointingly.
"My tutelage became a bargaining chip, and I was too indebted to realize it. It was either I do everything that the Princess ordered, or face life in prison. She never outright threatened me, no; that was the job of all the nobility breathing down my neck. I was stuck between pleasing the Princess and surviving the scrutiny of everypony else. So I decided to take over the school, and learn how to make ponies do what I want. If I wasn't at the very top in school, then people treated me like I was at the bottom. But while that was going on, I had to balance my relationship with the Princess; I couldn't get too close to her, because the nobility would tear me to shreds, but getting too far away would—well, it would get me exiled to another world like this. I figured becoming an alicorn would solve all of my problems; I would be above it all, and nopony could say otherwise. I tried to tailor my education to better suit that path, but Celestia didn't approve, and I got kicked to the curb."
". . . I'm sorry," Twilight said, trying to comfort her.
"There's no point in feeling bad about it now. When I escaped to this world, I was glad that I could get away from it. My past was behind me for the first time. Or so I thought. When I first came over here, I tried to look for my counterpart on this side of the mirror. I wanted to see if she was . . . more fortunate than I was."
"Was she?"
Sunset shrugged. "I don't exist in this world. I have no idea if my parents exist here or not, but Sunset Shimmer never was born on this planet. I used a few connections to get into contact with the government, and even they had no one named Sunset Shimmer either. Do you know what I think it means?"
Twilight solemnly shook her head. "Don't jump to the worst conclusion, Sunset . . . "
"The worst conclusion seems to be most likely one for me. Either this world's Sunset Shimmer's life is hell, or she never existed either. Who is to say that I only wiped out my parents from one universe? Why wouldn't ripping people out of time rip them all out of time? And when the parents are gone in a world without magic, the child disappears as well. I killed myself, too." She winced, and rubbed her back. "So yeah, I wish that I was rotting in prison right now. Then I could have lived the life I was supposed to, without ever knowing the horrors I committed. The horrors that gave me my cutie mark."
"You're not being fair to yourself," Twilight said. "For all we know, your parents could have been abusing you. It might have been self defense that triggered your magical pulse. And you may have just missed your counterpart in this world. You don't know who your parents were, so maybe they still exist here."
"It doesn't matter either way, Twilight," she responded. "I've been telling myself those excuses for a long time. They ring hollow now. The damage is done, and I've stopped caring about the extent."
The two fell into silence once more. Twilight kept reluctantly stretching out her hand, unsure of how to comfort Sunset. Sunset continued to stare into the clouds.
Twilight sighed. "Sunset, I can't even imagine . . . but I truly believe Celestia wants to make amends with you. If you are at least able to work together with her, we could take down Chrysalis and—"
"I don't care anymore," said Sunset. "Chrysalis can do whatever the hell she wants. Equestria deserves Chrysalis. At least they know what they're getting."
"Sunset, don't be irrational. Think of all of the ponies that are getting hurt by Chrysalis. All of the ponies who might die. Even my friends are under her control—"
"Maybe you should join them," she seethed. "Go on and get a taste of what defeat actually is. Let all of that hope drain out of your body."
Twilight slid back, shocked at her outburst.
"Your friends didn't give a shit about you. They ignored you even while their world was getting taken over. Maybe I should take one from their book. It's not like it matters anyway."
Twilight scrambled to her feet, tears dotting her eyes. "I'll be downstairs," she choked out. "Come talk to me when . . . when you . . ." She never finished her sentence, and ran down the steps, wiping her eyes the whole way.
Sunset knew she shouldn't have said that to Twilight. Yet, her veins boiled with an anger she hadn't felt in a long time. She needed something to take it out on.
The bundle Twilight had left on the ground next to her was starting to get wet; the rain was soaking through her jacket. After removing it, she saw her computer, and the flash drive. The old tome was underneath her computer.
She pushed it off to the side and threw the jacket over it.
Not caring about the rain, she pulled out the computer and inserted the drive.
After letting the computer start up, she pulled up the Anon-A-Miss page and, channeling her fury through her fingertips, went to work.
At some point it had become the middle of the night; the rain weakened, but it still drizzled on the rooftop. Sunset, however, was still completely focused on Anon-A-Miss, making post after post spreading out the dirt she had built up over the past year. The pain in her back was fading, and each post focused on another student made it easier to not think about the Princess, Chrysalis, or Twilight.
Her journal, poking out from under the leather jacket on the ground, glowed against the night sky. She wasn't going to open it. There was nothing Celestia could write that would be worth reading. It's better if we cut our losses here.
Someone clambered up the steps. She prayed that it wasn't Twilight. I can't face her again.
"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. What the fuck are you thinking?" Adagio Dazzle called out to her. Sunset looked up and glared.
"What the hell do you want?"
"I want to know why you've blown through a third of all your Anon-A-Miss posts already. I had a busy day today, so keep the explanation brief. What happened to evenly spreading it out?"
Sunset shrugged. "It felt like a better idea."
Adagio gave her a bemused glance and hummed out a small melody, probing Sunset's mood. She leaned back. "Oh, woah! You're pissed."
"Nice deduction, Sherlock."
Adagio laughed. "I get it now. You're venting. I probably should've figured that out just by seeing your girl crying downstairs, but ponies do that a lot, so I wasn't completely certain."
"Are you gonna make me stop?" she asked, a threatening edge to her voice.
"I don't see any need to. I bet school will be real fun tomorrow. They may try to lynch Chrysalis in the hallway. That would be great, actually. Problem solved!" she guffawed.
"Is there anything else you need, then?"
Adagio strolled up closer to her. "No, not really. I just find it so interesting about what ponies are like nowadays. I never get to see them anymore, so your evolution is so fascinating to me."
"What? Hasn't it been only a thousand years or so?"
"Yeah, but lord, judging by you two, you're not even the same species. You know, when we would raid villages back in the day, our magic would make ponies hate each other on another level beyond what you've ever seen. It was an ingenious strategy, actually, because we barely had to do any work. We'd take our fill and leave by the day's end. Those ponies did unspeakable shit to one another; many couldn't handle their own actions once we removed our spell."
"You're disgusting," growled Sunset.
"I'm not to the point yet. The ponies, despite being disgusted with themselves and one another afterwards, still attempted to rebuild. They reforged the friendships that we destroyed. Despite Aria's insistence on having the married couples attempt to murder each other, ponies rarely got divorced after we left town—or, at least, they never followed through the equivalent of divorce back in the day."
"I take it you weren't too fond of that? The kind ponies persevered against the evil demons—what the hell even are you guys, anyways?"
Adagio shook her head and laughed. "We're Sirens. And we actually loved it when ponies would get back together. If ponies could rebuild what we destroyed, we could just come back a few months and do it all over again! That was the beauty of it; the ponies were all so jazzed about living in harmony back then that we got to create a cycle between love and hate, and we benefited from both. I think it became an evolved trait, the strange desire you ponies have for reconciliation. No other species is quite like it; not even humans."
Sunset glared at her. "What are you getting at?"
"Well, you and Twilight act like evidence to the contrary. I'm assuming that our absence as predators made ponies become complacent, and now they're all about hurt feelings and broken friendships, despite having never experienced it in it true form."
"What the fuck are you trying to say about me?"
Adagio smirked and sauntered back over to the staircase. "I'm not saying you can't be mopey or anything; everybody loves to stew once in a while. But, if you think for a second that you've got some curse that makes your suffering all special and extra said, get over it. Don't blow our plan just because you're being a moron."
Sunset gaped at her in shock. "Fuck you."
Adagio laughed and began down the staircase. "Most ponies say buck, in case you've forgotten. It's up to you, Sunset. Pony or human?"
Sunset found herself alone on the rooftop once more.
The journal glowed, its luster brighter than the moon.
There she was, on a rooftop in the same city as the portal to Equestria, stuck on a problem that plagued her life in Equestria, ignoring the ponies she had hurt from Equestria, and messing up the one thing she was doing to actually help Equestria. I could never stop being a pony, no matter how hard I tried, huh?
"Ah, to hell with it," she exclaimed, grabbing the journal and flipping it open to its most recent page. What was there for her was a hastily scrawled letter from the Princess.
Dear Sunset,
I hope this letter finds you well. Chances are we have met up by now, and even greater chances are that our interaction did not go smoothly. I apologize. I have spent the past one thousand years telling ponies what they want to hear. However, we have been distanced for far too long. I do not know what you want to hear, so I will settle for the next best thing.
I must tell you the complete and utter truth.
Your upbringing was one far too unique for most ponies; you may not have realized it, but I saw the struggle in your eyes every day. Shifting between appeasing me, holding your own against your peers, and trying to find who you should be in life when your role models were taken away from you is far more than any pony should handle. I did not do enough to help you. For the longest time, I have believed that the root of our issues came down to mere incompatibility; a foolish assumption based on my misunderstanding of your needs. A new friend enlightened me recently that I need to reevaluate what truly went wrong.
Despite being a master of diplomacy, I always had an issue with communicating with you. I never explained to you what I wanted you to be; I did not know what you were supposed to be. I will not lie: I had suspicions that you were originally going to be an Element of Harmony, the position that Twilight would later come to hold. I was proven wrong by her existence; you were never intended to wield the Elements, and if I every suggested that idea to you, I am sorry. I saw your potential, and wanted you to follow the correct path to fully realize it, whatever it may have been—what it may still be. When I saw you reading up on dark magic, I became angry. I was angry at you, because I thought I was helping you stay away from that sort of magic, and going behind my back was anathema to all of the morals I had tried to instill upon you.
That brings up my second mistake: I never let you become your own pony. You must understand, I was unable to let you spread your wings; you would have been hurt beyond repair. Everypony wanted you gone, and the only way you could stay was if I kept you strictly along the path I created. Forgive me; I am making excuses again. I find it hard to look at ponies on the simplest level sometimes. I never understood how to approach you, even though I understood you were hurting. We both must be able agree that we were never in lockstep with one another.
I was occupied with far too many duties at the time of your tutelage to give you the time you deserved. Were I less busy, and had I less obligations to divert my attention towards, then I may have approached you and we could have found common ground. I did not, however; I'm sure you realized that the tales of Nightmare Moon were not fiction. Luna's return invaded my thoughts every day; I became too tired from worrying, always wondering if she would arrive early, or if I would be unprepared. At first, when I thought you would be the one to return her to me, I focused intently on cultivating you. As time grew on, and fate told me it had other plans, I shifted my attention elsewhere, leaving you behind to struggle. I deemed you beneath the importance of my nation. I cannot honestly say whether it was the right or wrong decision. It was the decision I made, nevertheless.
I know that an apology is not enough to resolve the issues between us. It cannot even be the start. I want to prove to you that I am serious. I have spent a long time thinking of the best way to prove this to you, and my best answer is as follows:
I, Princess Celestia, hereby resign from my position as Diarch of Equestria. Failure to abdicate within the next fifteen Equestrian years will result in an automatic transition of the throne to you, Sunset Shimmer.
Ever since my sister has returned to me, both she and I have wondered if our time to rule has come and passed. My failure to save my country has reinforced this notion; I can no longer have complete faith in myself to serve my ponies. If we manage to defeat Chrysalis, I will not resign immediately; only once the nation has returned to its normal state and an appropriate successor has been appointed to take my place. The Principal has pointed out that Equestria already has the foundation for a federal government ready on a local level; however, I am not sure Equestria can be reformed in such a way like the countries of this world can. Nonetheless, I will find a solution, whether it be finding a new princess, or a new form of government altogether.
I hope this proves to you that I am willing to change. I want to speak with you. Even if our conversation is loud, heated, and angry, and we accomplish nothing. I just wish to see you again, and show you that I care. Because I do.
Yours sincerely,
Celestia
Sunset flipped the tome closed with trembling hands.
A flurry of thoughts entered her mind: how she must be lying, how it was all a sham, how there was no way anypony with a right mind would even allow the option for Sunset to take the throne—but one prevailed above them all.
I need to see Princess Celestia.
She scrambled to her feet, leaving the dejected items on the wet rooftop as she raced for the stairs. She ran down to her floor and rushed into the apartment.
"Twilight!" she called.
A ragged Twilight peeked around the corner, a puffy-eyed glare aimed in her direction. "What?" She said.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I get it now." She said, a smile growing on her face.
Twilight tilted her head at her. "Um . . . what?"
Sunset laughed. "Forget everything I said earlier. We're gonna kick Chrysalis's ass, but first I need to see the Princess. I'm off!" She spun around and headed for the door, ignoring a very bewildered Twilight's attempts at stopping her.
The rain picked up again as she raced down, but she heeded it no mind. She sped underneath the streetlamps as she gradually made her way through the neighborhood, a fast-paced romp through the town that she had convinced herself was intended to be an exile. It's not, though.
She came upon the entrance to Canterlot High, and that bloated mess of a tree in the front yard.
"Hah," she said to no one in particular, "What a stupid tree. Why the hell would Principal Celestia want that?"
She skipped past the school and continued down the sidewalk. She ran Princess Celestia's abdication through her head again; it was almost beyond comprehension to her, such an out of this world idea. The Princess that Sunset knew would never even think about uttering those words written to her. She wondered if she slipped into another universe right before she opened up the tome.
The Principal's house came into view. She climbed up the doorstep and knocked on the door. It swung open, and Sunset came face to face with a pallid Princess Celestia.
"Sunset . . .?" She asked, a resigned gaze on her face.
Sunset stared into her eyes. "I thought you were a god, you know."
The Princess gave her a confused look. "Am I?"
Sunset let out a small laugh, trying to hold down the smile on her face. "I don't know. But, I think I know this: there's some part of you that's still a stupid, stupid pony. What are you thinking, throwing the throne away?"
The Princess's eyes lit up and she straightened herself out. "I have simply reevaluated what is important to me."
Sunset shook her head in amazement. "Princess, being a ruler is your identity. How can you throw that away? What will be left of you?"
Celestia smiled. "Forgive me if this comes across as preachy, but I will recall an old message I once heard, and told many of my students: there is no point being who you are if you are not who you want to be. Neither of us listened to that at first, though, did we?"
"And who do you want to be?" Sunset asked.
Celestia smiled. Sunset could see a thousand years of love and pain behind her eyes, and she suddenly realized that all of that pain existed not because of her, but for her. Celestia wanted to try again, on somepony else's terms. Maybe, Sunset thought, Maybe I could try again. Just once.
However, before Celestia could open her mouth to speak, two green wasps flew up and stung them both in the neck.