A few years later...
Kara's graduation was almost perfect.
Parents and well-wishers filled the entire stadium, so thick she couldn't even identify where her parents were sitting. But even if she couldn't see them, they'd be able to see her, up near the front of the class wearing gold robes and with every extra sash the school offered.
She understood, at least on an emotional level, that the ceremony was only the formality that came at the end of all her hard work. The spot waiting for her at Berkley's Physics program was the real prize, one hard fought and well earned. Few other students could recover from half a semester away from class, and still achieve their goals.
Thinking about those months sent strange chills down her spine. The dean's speech became noise, and the chill breeze lifting her robes lost its bite.
There were scars, even after three years of healing. Kara felt at the bracelet wrapped around her wrist, where quartz studs pressed faintly into her skin. Jewelry she could remove only once a year, when a replacement arrived by mail from another universe.
Be grateful, Kara. Who else down here got to decide how tall they would be, or their bust size, or that they would never get acne again?
Finally the general procession began, and the names of her classmates were read one at a time. She stood with the first group, turning towards the crowd. Sure enough, when she reached the top, her family made their best effort to be as loud as the others, and she finally found them.
They couldn't fill up a whole wing of the stands with aunts and uncles and cousins, the way some did. But both parents were there, waving energetically. Even Edgar had come, with a single bodyguard nearby in black. He didn't cheer, but his presence was enough. There was solidarity here: even if she couldn't see it, Grandpa had a bracelet too.
Stranger by far was the loudest member of their little group, a young woman sitting beside her mom. How she'd failed to notice hair that blue even from a distance, Kara couldn't tell. But if there was any doubt still left in her mind, the child in her lap settled it.
An adorable little girl, not quite old enough for school, who never took her little fingers from her hand.
Kara almost tripped on her robes in her excitement, returning to her seat with diploma in hand. For a moment at least, her graduation and her upcoming college faded to the back of her mind.
She shared a little eager conversation with Cindy in the seat beside her, discussing the graduation parties they'd be attending over the next few days. Several, naturally.
"I can't do anything tonight," she muttered. "Family stuff."
On her other side, Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Sure about that, Kara? Things are gonna get crazy tonight.”
She briefly considered what might happen if she invited the blue-haired girl up in the stands. "No promises," she eventually said. "Might have my cousin with me. You think Ron would be cool with that?"
"So long as she's cool, I'm sure."
"She's cool," Kara answered. "She just graduated too, actually. Different school."
When the ceremony finally ended, Kara was swept up in the crowd. She hurried away from her friends as soon as she got the chance, afraid that she might've been imagining things. Either that, or maybe her sister would somehow slip away, too ashamed to see her in person but wanting to be there anyway.
She shouldn't have worried.
Kyle hovered near their mom, little girl riding her shoulders and staring around the parking lot in fascination. They both turned as Kara approached, with near-identical expressions of recognition. Kyle twisted to one side, lifting her arms and lowering the child gently to the ground.
She squealed eagerly. "Kara!" She made it a few steps before coming up short, retreating until she could reach Kyle's dress. She cowered slightly behind her leg, eyeing the crowd at either side with nervous fear.
Her family swept up to meet her, cheering all over again. But once she'd given her parents the requisite number of hugs, and even one for Grandpa, she found Kyle waiting shyly near the car.
The bracelet worked well enough, though there were some things it couldn't do, including deaden her strange new sense for magic. Standing this close to Kyle and Fay was a bit like downing a few espresso shots, without the jitters. Her tiredness from a long day of rehearsals and sitting in the sun vanished in an eyeblink.
This is what I gave up. I could've had this all the time. She hesitated, taking a single long breath, crushing that thought down to powder before it could lead her down a path she would regret.
Her sister hadn't changed much in three years, minus for the obvious exception: she was human. The horses had dressed the two of them in clothing that was both casual and subtly regal, with ruffles over her chest and accents of gold thread.
Fay even had a little crown, though the silver metal was more subdued than anything Kara remembered from her brief visit to their world. It looked more like an adorable accessory, and less like a priceless treasure.
"Congratulations, little sis," Kyle said, barely loud enough to hear over the crowd. "I hear you got into Berkley. That's awesome."
Kara stopped a foot away, close enough that Fay cowered behind her mother, only poking out with those unnaturally green eyes. But considering her hair was as shamelessly impossible as Kyle's, that hardly made things worse.
"Little?" She stuck out one hand, holding it over Kyle's head. "I know you're a little shaky with math, but that has to be at least six inches."
Then she saw her face—Kyle was crying. Kara embraced her, and found her sister returned the gesture, poorly restraining her sobs.
It was like they were little kids all over again, with Kara's growth spurt giving her a few years of height advantage before he caught up. But despite the time, and the strange reversal between them, it was the best hug she'd had in ages.
"You have to meet Flurry!" Kyle said, after they finally broke apart. She bent down, lifting the child in her arms. "Well, not meet. This is Kara, remember sweetie?"
"Twin," she said, pressing one clumsy hand flat against her chest. "Kara!"
"That's right." She leaned down, brushing a few strands of hair from the little girl's face. "Sure am! Your mom and I grew up together. Guess it's hard to tell that now..."
She froze, staring at Kyle's arms. Both wrists were bare. She held out her own, shaking the robe down to expose it.
Probably unwise, with thousands of people all around them. But the parking lot was packed with a hundred little reunions, each one entirely self-absorbed. Besides, the studs poked into her arm, so the magical glow was barely visible.
"Did they come up with something better? No more bracelets?"
Kyle chuckled nervously. "That's... kinda the same reason I haven't been able to visit yet. They wouldn't even think about letting me cross to this side until I could do it on my own. Cadance didn't let me cast the spell on Flurry, as you can see."
She lifted the girl's arm, showing Kara the bracelet. Not that it was terribly hard to spot.
"Please, take as long as you like to catch up," Grandpa said. "But perhaps you would be more comfortable in the limousine."
She wasn't, as it happened. It pulled right into the parking lot, forcing other families to spread out and clear the way for it to pass. People would be talking about Kara, and how much better she thought she was compared to everyone else.
She hurried inside anyway, if only to be out of their line of sight. Kyle followed, helping Fay inside ahead of her. They sat together near the back, as the adults settled near the front.
There was one more man than Kara expected, another bodyguard with a square build and short, blue hair, who rode up front with the driver.
"I got my head around it eventually," she continued. "Monday is a great teacher. She's even giving Flurry lessons. Isn't she?"
Flurry grinned, pointing her stubby fingers at Kara's diploma. It lifted in her grip. Fay's hands glowed bright yellow, though it was flickering and unsteady. She settled it in her lap, grinning proudly. "On my own!"
"Fantastic, sweetie." Kyle pried the leather folio gently from her fingers, returning it to Kara. "She's getting really good. Her days of accidentally transforming entire buildings are long gone."
"They went with the old name?" she asked. "That's weird. Maybe not as weird as letting you take her into other universes, but... up there."
Kyle shrugged. "Ponies don't see names the same way we do, so it makes more sense to do things their way." She flushed bright red, suddenly avoiding Kara's eyes. "Flurry and I both changed, actually. It's something we have in common."
Kara grinned, nudging her in the ribs. "Well? If you've transitioned to something better, I should really stop calling you 'Kyle'. Assuming you... want me to."
Kyle shrugged, but the gesture was entirely unconvincing. Maybe she could lie to their parents like that, but not her twin. "Go on."
"I didn't pick it!" she said, raising a defensive hand. "Ponies have a complex relationship with their names and their cutie marks, and that's twice as true for Alicorns. It's a little awkward over there politically, but getting into it all would be a distraction from your graduation. This is your day to celebrate, not be bored with information from Equestria."
"There's nothing boring about seeing my sister for the first time in three years. Seriously: Mom and Dad? Best surprise ever."
"But not the only gift," Grandpa said. "It's waiting for you at home."
At least Grandpa's gift wouldn't be bought with the ill-gotten gains of who knew what criminal enterprise, not anymore. Now he had the entirely legitimate gains of managing the traffic between two universes.
"It's Mitera," Kyle said hurriedly. "Her family adopted me, technically. The public fiction is that I'm her sister. They all have a love thing going on, and it was close enough to be a human name, so..."
Flurry had behaved herself quite well up until that moment, but the more they spoke, the more she started to fidget. "Mom, I'm bored."
Kyle—no, Mitera—reached one hand out in front of her, which started glowing faintly purple. She reached down into open air, and it vanished, sinking down to the elbow. She bit her tongue the same as Kyle ever had while concentrating, then drew it out a moment later, with a huge stuffed doll.
She was human shaped, though her skin was strange, and she had Flurry's colors. "Here, pumpkin."
The child squealed with delight, embracing the doll, before sliding over a seat to make room for her. She started whispering into her ear, though Kara couldn't make out the words.
"Well, Mitera... does this mean you'll be visiting more often? If you can just pop from one universe to the other like that?"
"No," said the blue-haired bodyguard, so abruptly that Kara actually jumped. She hadn't even thought he was listening. "Not so long as she is governess to the princess. Her hooves are entirely occupied."
Mitera shifted in her seat, angling slightly away from the guard. She rolled her eyes, speaking in a low whisper. "Flurry never really got better about her birth mom. But that gave me a reason to be involved in their lives more than I expected—she’s nicer than we thought after last time. They won’t be putting me in any leadership roles in the Crystal Empire anytime soon, but I don’t want any, so that’s fine.
“Anyway, Cadence is trusting me more and more as my magical training goes further. I think I'll be able to get a visit every Christmas. Well, Hearthswarming, but it's the same thing."
"And you..." Kara matched her sister's tone, watching Flurry nervously as she did so. "You don't mind being a teenage mom? Hell of a full-time job."
Mitera followed her gaze for a moment, before pulling the child gently into her lap. Flurry Heart seemed relieved to be back, letting go of the toy without protest. Despite how brave she'd been acting, Kara could see the constant air of fear lingering around her.
Under the circumstances, she was doing fantastically well. How many other three-year-olds could transform into aliens and visit other universes?
"I wish it had happened a decade later," Mitera said. "I wish I could've done the things you're doing. College and parties and... all that stuff. But I wouldn't change it. Hey, Flurry, what are we?"
She held out her fist, just over the girl's.
Flurry grinned, balling up her own tiny fingers. "Team!" she exclaimed. "Right, Mommy?"
"That's right," Mitera said, squeezing her in a tight hug. "Best team in two worlds."
Grandpa wasn't lying about the gift waiting for her when she got home. But no BMW could compare with seeing her little sister.