'One more year in these halls, then... Then who knows?'
Sunset Shimmer walked through the rapidly-emptying main hall of Canterlot High School's east wing, as the student body filtered out of the exits in all directions in search of lunch after the first half-day of the new school year. The last four hours had consisted of orientations and syllabi for the classes students had selected for the first semester. Her stomach also felt the call of lunch, as her toaster pastries this morning were starting to wear off by now, but Principal Celestia had summoned her to her office just before the last bell had rung. She told her six friends to not wait up, and that she'd see them tomorrow, as she wasn't entirely sure what this was about.
The senior made a quick check of herself with her reflection in the trophy case, making sure the collar of her studded leather jacket was even, then approached the closed door of the principal's office, knocking softly to announce her presence.
"Come in." She heard from the other side. Turning the knob, she pushed the door open, and stepped through the doorway.
"You wanted to see me, Principal Celestia?" Sunset asked, gently closing the door behind her.
"Indeed I did, Sunset. Please, have a seat." The headmaster replied, motioning to the cushioned chair that had been placed at the front of the oak desk. Sunset slid her backpack off of her right shoulder and set it beside the chair before taking a seat. Celestia's office hadn't gone through too many changes since she had first seen it as a freshman. The two bookshelves were still on the north and south corners of the room, her credentials were on the back wall directly behind the desk, and to the left of that was the flag and emblem of the Canterlot High Wondercolts.
"What can I do for you?"
"I'll be honest, Sunset. A conversation like this would normally take place between you and your guidance counselor, but you are undoubtedly a special case, even more so than your friends. I'm wondering if you have any aspirations, long-term plans, or if you've been thinking ahead to the future. This is your final year at Canterlot High, after all, and things have certainly quieted down here, in a magical sense. At least for now."
Principal Celestia was correct there. The last time the portal in the base of the Wondercolt statue had been utilized was when they had come through with around three dozen shipwreck survivors. Luckily, the school's financials had absolutely nothing to do with the insurance payout for the complete loss of the cruise ship. When summer had come around, the only magical mishap had been an Equestrian artifact that had turned a weekend music festival into a twenty-four day affair for Sunset.
"You think we'll be lucky enough for things to stay quiet?" Sunset asked her.
"That remains to be seen. But while I have periodically thought about offering you something of a 'magical advisor' role once you graduate, part of me would rather not act on the assumption that you want to stand on guard for this school for the foreseeable future. I'm sure you've thought about returning to, well, to wherever it is you came from. Equestria, was it?"
Sunset nodded softly.
"Honestly, Principal Celestia... I've been homesick for quite awhile. At first, I was determined to stick around and protect this school and its students from any magical threats because I had believed that I was the reason that magic came to this world. But ever since the trip to Camp Everfree, it's become quite clear that I'm not. I remember who I used to be when I first came to this school, when I first came through that portal... Snide, cruel, too ambitious for my own good. My friends turned me into an infinitely better person, and while part of me can't imagine my life without them... Yeah, a part of me still misses home."
"What is home like?" The Principal asked, leaning forward in her chair.
"I wish it were easier to put into words... I mean, if anyone else were to tell you that there's an alternate dimension where another version of you controls the sun in the sky, you'd probably have them committed. People, err, I mean, ponies, become independent much, much faster than people over here do. The magic that we deal with from time to time on this side... It's abundant over there. It's a way of life. And for the past two years, yeah, it's something I've sometimes longed to return to, even if it means leaving my friends here behind. Paths diverge sooner or later, right? I'd miss them terribly, but in the grand scale of things, I'm... I'm not sure if I really belong here for the rest of my life."
Principal Celestia nodded understandably.
"I'm glad we're having this conversation, because I knew it was important that I give you as much of a heads-up as I can, so you can do as much reflection and preparation as you feel you need to. When it comes to this school, I have to move forward assuming that the seven of you are going to go off and follow the paths your lives take you on, magical or otherwise. Vice Principal Luna and I have begun to draft construction plans to build a... A sarcophagus of sorts, around the remaining base of the Wondercolt statue. We believe that would effectively seal off the portal, and keep the school safe once you and your friends graduate. But that means that you would have to decide where you ultimately want to go, if you want to remain here, or return home."
Sunset's eyes widened at the realization.
"I know it's not a decision you can make quickly or lightly, so I wanted to let you know as early as I could. Construction won't start until after the school year ends, and that's assuming things stay as quiet as they have been, so you've got almost a full year to figure some things out."
Sunset took a deep, quiet breath, and slowly nodded at the headmaster.
"Thank you, Principal Celestia. I do have some things to think about."
"Have a good rest of your day, Sunset. Thank you."
Sunset got up, grabbed her bag, and left Celestia's office without another word. At the front and center of her mind, a timer had just started ticking down. She knew better than to assume that nine months was a long way off. If she let that assumption take hold, that time would pass without a second thought. So as she made her way to the front exit, as her appetite began to slip away for the time being, she made one single conscious decision; take things one day at a time.
Because in about two hundred and seventy of them, it would perhaps, finally, be time to go home.