Dinner with Myself
The journal glowed with lavender light, vibrating back and forth where it sat on Sunset’s bed.
Sunset’s brow furrowed as she debated on whether to answer it or not; she wasn’t sure if she wanted to speak to Twilight Sparkle at the moment.
She was even less sure why Twilight Sparkle would want to speak with her after the way that they had left things.
But the book continued to glow, and it continued to vibrate.
Sunset wondered briefly if Twilight was writing to her in order to tell her off for the way that she’d behaved the last time they had spoken, or perhaps the rebuke was going to come from Princess Celestia; in neither case could she really deny deserving one.
But then, another part of her thought that Twilight – or Celestia for that matter – had left it rather late to write to her with a rebuke. They could have done it at once, had they been minded to, and yet they had not.
Which meant that it might be something else.
It might be important.
It might have something to do with the missing pony who had fallen through the crack between worlds and ended up in Remnant, the one whom the Sun Queen was holding as her ‘guest.’
If it was about that, well, then Sunset couldn’t really ignore it, could she?
She sat down on the bed and opened up the book.
Sunset, are you there?
There was a lot more like that scrawled across the page, but that was the last line, and everything before that was in very much the same vein. Sunset took out a pen from her jacket pocket and began to write back.
I’m here, but a little surprised that you want to talk to me after the way we left things.
If I refused to speak to every one of my friends who got mad at me, I wouldn’t have very many friends left.
What an odd thing for a Princess of Friendship to admit.
Just because I’m a Princess of Friendship doesn’t mean I’m flawless, or that my friends are; it does, however, mean that I understand that sometimes we have bad days, and it’s important not to hold them against anypony.
I should probably come back with an argument about how patronising that is when you’re the one who provoked me to get upset in the first place, but honestly, I’m too tired for that, and I don’t really have time.
Oh, sorry, am I disturbing you?
Sunset chuckled softly, for all that the pony on the other side of the book couldn’t see it. You’re really much too nice, you do realise that?
I’m not sure there is such a thing as too nice.
You and Pyrrha would get on so well.
There are times I wish that I had the chance to meet your friends.
That may not be as unlikely as you think; or at least, that’s what I’d say if I still had friends.
What do you mean, and, well, what do you mean?
Sunset sighed. She put down the pen for a moment and ran one hand through her fiery hair. Let’s just say that Ruby didn’t take the fact that you wouldn’t teach me the time travel spell particularly well and leave it at that.
A part of me would want to leave it at that, but another part of me thinks that we shouldn’t.
She wishes that she’d never met me, and to be perfectly honest, at this point, I can hardly blame her. It’s practically impossible that her life would have been worse without me in it.
That’s ridiculous.
Is it?
I’m sure that there are plenty of things that could have gone a lot worse without you around.
There’s no way to be sure now, is there? Ruby doesn’t care about hypotheticals; all that she cares about is that her sister is dead because of me, and I can’t undo it.
It took a little while for Twilight to reply. If you’re looking for me to change my mind, I’m afraid that I can’t help you.
I know. I wish you would, but I know you won’t.
I stand by my decision, but I understand that you may be angry about it. Are you still angry about it?
I’m too tired to be angry, just as I’m too tired to be sassy. I’m drained out of all my negative emotions, leaving only weariness behind. I want to sleep, Twilight. I want to sleep, and I want to wake up to be back at Beacon with the world before me and my friends by my side and time to make good all my mistakes.
You have made some mistakes, but let’s not forget that you’ve made so many good decisions too. Why, without you Cinder might still be trapped in servitude to Salem.
And Yang might still be alive; I can’t defend myself with maybes and might have beens.
Who are you trying to defend yourself from? Ruby?
Sunset frowned. No, it’s somepony much closer to home than that. It doesn’t matter; I’m sure that’s not why you wrote to me, and unfortunately, I don’t have all night.
What’s going on?
I’m having dinner with myself.
You mean your other self?
With the Queen, yes.
Her eyes flickered from the book to the other item resting on her bed: a gown that Laurel had brought her, with thinly veiled instructions that the Sun Queen would be delighted if she were to wear it. Sunset knew what that meant.
It wasn’t even the kind of gown that she liked wearing; it wouldn’t have made a huge amount of difference if it had been, but she could have taken some consolation in the fact. But this dress, aside from being blue, was too slender and too low cut in the neckline, exposing rather more of Sunset’s cleavage and breasts than she was entirely comfortable with.
But she’ll be so delighted to see me wear it.
I’ll bet she will. She’ll be delighted that she has the power to dress me up like her own personal doll.
A doll of herself, no less.
I’m not particularly looking forward to it. But with any luck, I’ll get to finally meet the poor pony who wandered through the portal between our worlds and got stuck in Remnant.
Right. That’s what I was actually writing to you about in the first place.
The missing pony? You think you know who they are?
I have an idea. I’m in a town called Mantle right now, with Starlight and Spike and all of my friends.
You brought all of your friends with you?
Why not? I enjoy their company, we work well together, and they all have skills that could help the investigation.
Even Pinkie Pie?
She’s very intuitive, and there’s nopony better to talk to children.
I’ll take your word for that. What did you find out?
Dragon Lord Ember met us in Mantle and told us that a couple of dragons had been attacked by what looked like wolves, but they were black, with white heads and bone sticking out of their bodies. Sunset, are they
The creatures of grimm. I’m so sorry, Twilight.
It’s not your fault, Sunset.
It feels as though everything is my fault, lately. Nevertheless, I’m sorry. Those monsters have no place in Equestria. Was anyone hurt?
Ember was very proud as she told me that, no, her dragons had managed to defeat their assailants. I’m not too surprised by that; dragon scales are hard, and dragon fire is hot, after all. What was more worrying is that three young fillies playing out beyond the town were attacked by what must have been a grimm bear.
An ursa, maybe even an ursa major, depending on how big it was. Sweet Celestia. Were any of the children hurt?
Thankfully, no. The three fillies ran back into town, where the mayor confronted the creature and was unfortunately forced to kill it
It was a grimm; there’s no 'unfortunately' about it.
I know that’s what you’ve been taught
It’s what I know, Twilight. Listen to me: these aren’t animals, Fluttershy can’t reason with them; they’re creatures of darkness and destruction, they exist to kill. If you see one, you need to take it out. Although, having said that, it’s quite impressive that some town mayor was able to face off against an ursa with no aura or training.
She is an unusual mayor, and certainly, I can’t see our mayor back in Ponyville pulling that off, much as we all appreciate her hard work
Of course you do; you just didn’t elect her for the ability to fight monsters.
But I wouldn’t call the Mayor of Mantle untrained. Actually, she was Captain of the Guard before Shining Armour.
Sunset frowned. Are we talking about Robyn Hill?
You know her?
We weren’t great friends or anything, but I knew her; she was Captain of the Guard when I was Princess Celestia’s student. I saw her around the palace often enough. As a matter of fact, I thought she was kind of cool.
Forgive me, but I have a hard time imagining you thinking of anyone else as being cool.
I never told her, of course, but she was grown up, poised, respected. I wanted to be like that when I grew up, only more. Did she tell you all this?
No. I think she’s the pony who ended up in Remnant. The townsponies told me that she went to find out where the bear – the ursa – had come from. She set off alone, saying it would be too dangerous for anypony else to come with her. She never came back. Everypony was too scared to look for her, but my friends and I are going to head out tomorrow and see what we can find.
Be careful, Twilight. We only have my other self’s word that the portal to Equestria is unreachable, but who knows if more grimm could have wandered through? Before I go, I’ll teach you a spell to get rid of them quickly; if I can manage it, you should have no problem.
I know a few combat spells already.
This isn’t a combat spell; it’s a spell to let you avoid combat with the grimm, but first, I have a proposition that I need you to pass judgement on: if we can’t get a boat here in Freeport, could my friends and I come through Equestria?
Come through Equestria? You mean come through the nearby portal?
And come out again through the mirror, arriving back in Remnant in Canterlot.
Is that closer to your goal?
Not technically, but I can believe we’ll have an easier time reaching our goal from Atlas than from here.
You know, that might not be such a bad idea. Robyn – assuming it’s her – will have to get home somehow, and Celestia would be delighted to meet you again, and we could finally meet face to face!
Sunset chuckled. You’re more on board than I expected you to be, honestly.
You expected me to be hostile?
I thought you might be wary.
You know you’re always welcome in Equestria any time.
What about my more unsavoury companions?
Is there any way you could leave them behind?
Sunset couldn’t restrain a laugh. I’d like nothing better, believe me, but I don’t think I could justify that. If nothing else, I’d be responsible for whatever they did once they were set loose.
Then you’ll have to watch them and make sure that they don’t get out of control. I trust you to do that.
You trust me that much? Not everyone would at this stage. Sunset frowned. Well, it’s just an idea at the moment. Thank you for telling me about Robyn; now I know something that my other self doesn’t know that I know.
Is that good?
It might be, if only so that I can throw her off balance if I need to. Now, before I go, let me teach you this spell that I came up with.
Sunset spent a little time going over the details of her grimm-dispelling enchantment with Twilight, laying out the various spells that she had combined together and the theory behind them, until it was time for her to go.
Does that all make sense?
I think so, yes. Understanding this makes me feel a bit better about using it, I must admit.
Good, because if you do have to use it, you can save lives with this spell.
I understand. Goodnight, Sunset.
Goodbye, Princess Twilight Sparkle.
She closed the book and got to her feet. Sunset stretched out, spreading her arms across the room, feeling her muscles tense. She looked down at the gown on the bed, stared at it, taking in its every fold of the cerulean fabric.
No. No, she was not wearing that, no matter how much it would delight her other self. And since she was not yet a prisoner here, she didn’t have to either.
She picked up the magical journal and tucked it underneath her arm as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Cinder was waiting for her outside. “You’re not wearing the dress?” she asked.
“No,” Sunset declared. “I am not.”
Cinder smiled. “Good for you.”
“I’m glad you approve,” Sunset said, pressing the journal into her hands. “Here, will you hang onto this until I get back?”
“Of course, but why?”
“Because I don’t trust that nobody will root around in my room while I’m not in it, and I don’t want this falling into the wrong hands.”
Cinder looked down at the journal in her hands, with Sunset’s red and gold sun embossed upon it. “Very well,” she murmured, hugging it close as though it were hers. “I shall keep a careful watch on it until you return.”
“No need to go that far,” Sunset told her. “Just keep it nearby; so long as you’re in your room, I doubt you’ll get any intruders.”
Cinder nodded. “Good luck up there. I’d tell you to have fun, but, well-”
“Not much chance of that,” Sunset replied. At least I have a name, now.
Robyn Hill, she mused, as she walked down the stairs. How are you coping with this? There were, in Sunset’s opinion, worse ponies who could have fallen through a crack between worlds and into Remnant; she might even say that there were many worse ponies. Sunset wouldn’t exactly say that she liked Robyn – the mare had, after all, tried to throw her out of the palace at Celestia’s command, and she’d never seemed to like Sunset that much even beforehoof – but she had risen to Captain of the Guard upon her merits, she had seemed skilled at what she did, and it appeared that she was brave enough to confront an ursa and follow its tracks to confront whatever other evils might lie in wait for her there. She had, according to Twilight’s account, dealt better with her first encounter with the grimm than Sunset could say – although, in Sunset’s own defence, she had been much younger at the time.
And yet, it would be too easy to simply assume from all this that Robyn was fine here, that she was the type of pony who would thrive in Remnant. It was very difficult indeed for anypony to thrive in Remnant; Sunset wouldn’t even claim that she was managing it. It was one thing to face a monster when it was on your own turf, when you were you, in your native form; it was another to be transported to a strange new world filled with such monsters, to be flung into a new and unfamiliar body, to have no idea where you were, how to get back, who to trust.
Guest of the Sun Queen or no, Sunset thought, suspected, feared, perhaps, that Robyn Hill had not had the most wonderful time since arriving in Remnant.
Sunset reached the floor below her own. The door to Ruby’s room was slightly ajar, and Sunset spied a pair of silver eyes watching her.
“Ruby-” Sunset began, but the door slammed shut before she could say anything further.
Sunset lingered on the landing for a moment, her eyes downcast. “Ruby,” she said, loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the door. “I… I’m sorry.”
There was no reply.
She wouldn’t cry. If she cried, then the other Sunset would notice, and she didn’t want that.
She wouldn’t cry, no matter how much she might want to.
She descended the next set of stairs a little more swiftly than necessary and emerged out of the Tower of the Moon and into the light of the real moon that shone down upon Freeport from above. The spring night air was cool and crisp; it caressed her cheeks but did not disturb her hair, although, given the wild curls in which she wore said hair, it might not have been too noticeable if it had.
She had no guide, nor did she need one. No one could fail to miss the Tower of the Sun, looming above the rest of the city; lamps burned brightly in the high windows so that it almost seemed to gleam like a lighthouse summoning the ships to harbour, if there were any ships outside the harbour tonight.
She walked briskly through the streets of Freeport, streets that were as occupied now as they had been in the day, or seemed to be so. Vendors sold thin strips of meat on sticks from burning grills set up by the roadside; heavyset fellows sat outside, drinking flagons of ale; people passed to and fro, none paying Sunset any mind.
I am nearly the mirror image of their queen, and yet, none of them realise it.
What a kingdom this is.
A bell tolled; it seemed to be tolling from the Tower of the Sun itself. A few people stopped and looked towards the tower, but none said anything, and after a moment, they continued on their way, leaving Sunset none the wiser as to what the bell had meant.
Nevertheless, ignorant of that, she continued on, and the ancient tower grew larger and larger until it towered over her, seeming almost to be ready to topple down and crush her as she walked into the courtyard of the old ruined castle and approached the tower.
Besides the Rangers guarding the door, Dawn Starfall was waiting there for her. Her eyes widened a little as she took in Sunset’s outfit. “I thought that Laurel had delivered you a dress from our Queen,” she declared.
“The Queen’s generosity is appreciated,” Sunset replied, “but quite unnecessary.”
Dawn stared at her. Sunset stared right back, her face conceding nothing and concealing everything.
For a moment, Sunset thought – feared, a little – that Dawn would demand that she go back and change into that dress, which would put her in the awkward spot where she would either have to deny Dawn and, by extension, the Sun Queen or else concede to her demands. But in the end, Dawn just sniffed with disapproval. “Follow me,” she said. A smirk appeared upon her face. “The Queen has something that she wishes you to see before you dine together.”
“Really,” Sunset murmured. “And what is that?”
The smirk on Dawn’s face broadened a little. “How we do justice here in Freeport.”
Sunset followed Dawn inside the tower, which was better lit now than it had been when she had entered here last. Lamps burned brightly where they hung from the walls, and Sunset could actually see where she was going as Dawn led her up the first few flights of wooden stairs until they came to a barren stone landing with a window set in the wall but very little else. Perhaps there had never been anything here, or perhaps this was simply a floor for which the Sun Queen, having no use for it, had pillaged it of all its contents for spaces she liked better. Chambers like the one from which a great cacophony of sound could be heard, making Sunset’s ears twitch a little with the racket.
“This way,” Dawn said, her voice silky smooth as she led Sunset towards the sounds, the shouting and the yelling. Sunset had no choice but to follow, despite the way the volume increased with every step she took, until Dawn opened the heavy stone door and gestured for Sunset to step inside.
The chamber that she beheld was large and consisted of many layers; Sunset wasn’t quite sure what the original purpose of the place had been when first the tower had been raised, but it only took a quick look to see what it was now: it was a fighting pit.
This was nothing like the Amity Colosseum, or even the grand old coliseum in Mistral that Pyrrha had taken them to visit; this was something else, something meaner and dirtier, something… something altogether more sordid-seeming, for all that it was recognisably of the same type. In the centre of the space, there was a great pit, a lowered space in the floor, set apart from the rest of the room by a mixture of stone walls and wire fencing. Inside the pit, the combatants fought, crudely dressed men armed with crude weapons – rudimentary swords and axes, mere bits of metal sharpened and sometimes stuck on the end of rough sticks of wood – hacking and slashing clumsily at one another, spilling their blood upon soil already slick with blood and upon which several dead bodies lay already. Some of the dead were covered in tattoos like Sami, some – tattooed or otherwise – were faunus of various different kinds. All fought more with savage ferocity than any real skill, swinging their weapons with wild abandon, seeming heedless of whether they were struck so long as they struck their foes in turn.
That was what the crowd seemed to want, for it was a great crowd, a crowd of men and women pressed against the wire, looking down upon the fighters, yelling at them, cheering for them, jeering at them, howling for blood. Sunset could see Ember of the Summer Fire Clan in the front row, with Garble beside her, surrounded by her clansfolk, fingers gripping the wire as she called out words lost in the cacophony. She could see Prince Rutherford too, and he seemed to be making no noise, but despite his grave expression, he watched the unfolding battle no less keenly.
And above it all sat the Sun Queen upon a throne of iron crudely welded together, draped in her robes of many colours, her face obscured behind a mask of gold, leaning forward as she gazed eagerly down upon the unfolding spectacle.
She was set higher than the others; the doorway in which Sunset stood led onto a wooden platform elevated above the other spectators, where the Sun Queen, surrounded by her guards, could look down upon all her subjects as they in turn looked down upon those who fought for their amusement.
Sunset stepped down onto the platform, the boards creaking a little under the steps of her boots as she walked across them to where the Sun Queen sat. Her guards did not resist Sunset’s approach.
The Sun Queen looked up at her. “You’re not wearing the dress I gave you.”
“No,” Sunset replied. “I’m not.”
The Sun Queen chuckled. “You know I meant nothing by it; I simply thought you might appreciate something nice to wear.”
“It’s not my style,” Sunset replied.
“I’m sorry for that,” the Sun Queen said, “but this isn’t Mistral; we can’t just whip up something for everyone.”
“Then I am fortunate to be content in the clothes I have,” Sunset said.
“Indeed,” the Sun Queen murmured. She returned her attention – or at least her gaze – to the pit. “What do you think?”
Sunset’s mouth twisted in distaste as she watched a woman lose her head. “In the four kingdoms, the fighting stops once someone’s aura gets dangerously low.”
Once more, the Sun Queen chuckled. “That would rather defeat the object.”
“Is the object to lose you warriors?”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand; these are not warriors.”
Sunset’s eyes narrowed. “Then who are they?”
“Criminals,” the Sun Queen explained. “They have all broken the law, one way or another.”
“You say that as though it doesn’t matter how they broke the law,” Sunset observed.
“Because it doesn’t,” the Sun Queen replied. “One stole a loaf of bread, another conspired with his brother’s wife to murder said brother, and another… well, you don’t need to know all of their crimes. They all broke the law, my law. And they will all pay the price for that. All but one. These are a hard people, Sunset, and simple, so justice must be hard and simple too: many go into the pit, one comes out again, absolved by blood of all their crimes.”
“Sounds barbaric.”
“In which case, it’s quite appropriate for barbarians, don’t you think?” the Sun Queen asked. “Ah, and look, we have a winner!”
Indeed, just before she had spoken, one of the two remaining fighters down in the pit had been cut down by the survivor, a tall and rangy young ram faunus with horns curving out on either side of his head; dark, untidy hair; and indecipherable markings tattooed onto his face. He did not look proud of his triumph, for all that acclaim showered down upon him from the mob that watched him fight; his expression was as inscrutable as he, ignoring the crowd, cast down his crude sword and stared up at the Sun Queen on her throne.
The Sun Queen rose to her feet, raising her hands in the air. Like the dying of a storm, the sound of the gathered masses quieted, falling silent at the Queen’s command.
“When I came to this land,” the Sun Queen proclaimed, “I found it a divided land. Divided between clans, between towns, split into claims and steadings, riven with feuds and old grudges, a patchwork of conflict and division. But no more! We are one people now: there is no Fall Forest, there is no Frost Mountain, there is no Summer Fire, there is only Freeport. You are of Freeport, or you are an enemy of Freeport, and the enemies of Freeport will pay with their lives! Tonight, you have witnessed not only a great battle, but a reminder of what happens to those who transgress in any way against my laws, the laws that bind us together and keep us safe. Is the world not dark and full of terrors? Do not ten thousand fates of death surround us? Have you not sought shelter from the grimm within my walls? We must live together, or we will die alone, and we must live under law… and we must mete the swiftest justice out to those who break that law, or the cancer of their villainy will spread until it destroys us.
“And yet, I am not without mercy,” the Sun Queen declared. “Bellamy of the West River Clan, you have proved your strength tonight above all others. Will you turn away from lawlessness and lend your strength to the good of Freeport?”
Bellamy bowed his head. “I will, my Queen.”
“Then leave this place a free man of Freeport and serve us better in the future,” the Sun Queen commanded. “Our revels now are ended; my friends, I bid you good night and leave you to your pleasures, as you leave me to mine.” She turned to Sunset. “Come with me,” she said before she turned away with her robes swirling around her, leaving Sunset with no choice but to follow as her other self led her to another door, just behind the throne. The door led to a narrow staircase which the Sun Queen climbed, with Sunset following her and then Dawn and a pair of the Queen’s Rangers following after Sunset in her turn. They climbed the stairs, the tight wooden steps creaking and yawning under their tread, until they came to a richly-appointed chamber, the walls hung with musty, ancient tapestries; faded settees, the cushions ripped and fraying in places, the stuffing starting to fall out, had been arranged around a wooden table laden with a feast. Not all of the feast was particularly mouth-watering to Sunset – the boar’s head in the centre of the table interested her not at all, nor did the large roast fowl not far away – but there was plenty of fruit and vegetables laid out in bowls to be picked at as well, which would have seemed very inviting if she had been more hungry.
“Please,” the Sun Queen said, “sit down and make yourself at home.” She didn’t wait to see if Sunset would obey her request; she kept her back to Sunset as she swept across the chamber to the dark and unlit fireplace, stacked with dry logs.
The Sun Queen knelt beside the fire and held out her hand; Sunset’s eyes widened as she watched the flames spring up on her other self’s skin, her body itself catching fire, the flames burning crimson and gold like her burning hair, the flames which spread to the logs in the fireplace. The fire spread quickly, crackling as it started to consume the logs, spreading out light and heat into the stone chamber. The shadow of the Sun Queen lengthened as the flames leapt up.
“Neat trick,” Sunset murmured. “Your semblance?”
“Quite,” the Sun Queen replied, turning to face her. The fire still burned upon the top of her hand, the hand she raised up closer to her face. “I call it Phoenix Armour.” The flames began to spread across her body, moving from her hand up her arm, engulfing skin and clothes alike, scarlet and yellow rippling up her body, all the other Sunset burning up, consuming everything until there was nothing left but fire, fire and the gold mask that concealed her face from view. “No one can touch me without coming to harm. I am… untouchable. Invulnerable.”
“Those aren’t the same thing,” Sunset replied. “For one thing, you can still be shot. And for another…”
The flames died down upon the Sun Queen; her robes appeared untouched by the fire. “Go on?”
“If you are untouchable,” Sunset said, “then who can touch your heart?”
The Sun Queen was silent for a moment. “Guards,” she said, “leave us.”
The two Rangers who had followed them into the room both bowed and, without another word, departed.
She does not fear me, or at least, she wants me to think she does not fear me.
“You too, Dawn,” the Sun Queen said.
Dawn hesitated for a moment, but in the end, she, too, bowed her head and took her leave, departing down the narrow staircase and closing the door behind her.
The latch clicked, the only sound in the room besides the crackling of the flames.
The Sun Queen chuckled. “If I’m untouchable, who will touch my heart? What a very quaint sentiment. Are you asking me how I make friends?”
“Is this the part where you tell me you don’t need friends?”
“I am not without compassion or fellow feeling,” the Sun Queen replied, “but I’m not sure that I’d describe anyone as touching my heart. I have good servants, and I appreciate their loyalty, but could I live without them? Of course I could.”
“The people we can’t live without are the ones who make life worth living,” Sunset countered.
“And how’s that working out for you at the moment?” the Sun Queen asked softly.
Sunset’s ears flattened down onto the top of her head, and she bared her teeth in a growl.
The Sun Queen raised one hand. “Forgive me; that was uncalled for. Please, sit down. Eat.”
“I’d rather see Robyn Hill first,” Sunset said.
The Sun Queen was silent for a moment. “How do you know that name?”
“Did I guess right?”
“How did you know?”
“You have your secrets; I have mine,” Sunset said combatively.
The Sun Queen stared at her. “Very well. I suppose I cannot begrudge you that. Yes, the… the pony’s name is Robyn Hill. Did you know her too, back in Equestria?”
“I did,” Sunset said. “And you knew her human counterpart here in Remnant.”
The Sun Queen nodded. “Have you ever heard of the Happy Huntresses?”
“No,” Sunset murmured.
“In Atlas, they are called criminals,” the Sun Queen said. “The truth is a little more complex than that, although there is certainly some criminality involved. They are… you might call them a resistance against the tyranny of Atlas and all the harm that it has done to Mantle. Robyn leads this group, and I spent some time with them, under her leadership.”
“Did you?” Sunset asked. “In the same way that Professor Ozpin knelt before you and anointed you with a promise of future greatness?”
The Sun Queen laughed. “You must allow a queen some leeway to mythologise herself in public. What I am trying to do here has not been attempted for many generations; I have little in the way of models to look to but heroes long past and the tales that were told of them. Vain as it is, I hope that one day, such tales will be told of me.” She turned away from Sunset, facing the flickering flames that burned in the hearth. “But the truth is, I did meet Professor Ozpin once, when I was very young. In fact… he saved my life.”
Sunset’s brow furrowed. “The grimm?”
“I forget why he was in Atlas,” the Sun Queen said. “Some conference, I think. He got word of a grimm attack, and he responded to it.”
Sunset nodded. “He was that kind of man.”
“He arrived too late to save my parents,” the Sun Queen explained, “but not too late to vanquish the grimm and pull me from the wreckage of my home. I… he was kind enough to let me write to him, every now and again, as I got older. And he always wrote back too, despite how busy he must have been.”
“Funny,” Sunset muttered. “He never mentioned you.”
“Do you think I’m still lying?”
“I think you might still be mythologizing.”
“In private? What would be the point?”
“I’m not sure,” Sunset admitted, “but nevertheless, he never mentioned you.”
“I can be forgotten, if I wish to be,” the Sun Queen said, explaining nothing. “In any case,” she went on, turning around to face Sunset once more, “I really do regret his death. The fact that someone like him… he seemed so mighty, but I suppose I was only a child at the time. It’s funny, isn’t it, how when we are children, the adults seem so much more…?”
“Infallible?” Sunset suggested.
“Precisely,” the Sun Queen agreed. “So much more infallible than they really are. And then, the more we grow, the more we see their flaws. As I was saying, I spent some time as a Happy Huntress; Robyn Hill – my Robyn – taught me a great deal about how to lead and fight… and about what not to do. Robyn’s cause may be a just and noble one, but it is also an even more hopeless struggle than that of the White Fang. You can’t beat Atlas, not in the very heart of Atlesian territory. You can’t beat General Ironwood with a ragtag bunch of misfits.”
“Especially not when General Ironwood has plenty of misfits of his own, just better dressed,” Sunset remarked.
“I see you’ve met some Atlesian students,” the Sun Queen observed with laughter in her voice.
“I was at Canterlot for a while, before I went to Beacon,” Sunset explained. “Yes, I’m not unfamiliar with Atlesian huntresses. They’re not the robots you might think.”
“And yet formidable for all their human frailty,” the Sun Queen agreed. “That’s why I left. Why we left. Why we came here. Somewhere I could become what I was meant to be-”
“You mean what you desired to be,” Sunset pointed out.
“Is there a difference?” the Sun Queen inquired. “I wanted somewhere I could do it without interference, and I found this place. And in finding it, I found my destiny.” She paused for a moment. “It would be a terrible pity, don’t you think, if all of these absurd and quarrelsome clans were to be wiped out? No more Frost Mountain, no more Summer Fire; it scarcely bears thinking about. And yet, that is exactly what will happen without me.”
Was my ego ever this colossal?
“I am the only one,” the Sun Queen said, “who can hold this kingdom together. It would not have even been conceived of without me. My dreams have called it into being, and only my genius can maintain it.”
“You don’t need to convince me,” Sunset said. “I have no intention of interfering with your arrangements here.”
“Then what are your intentions?”
“You know them well enough,” Sunset replied sharply. “To go to Anima… and to see Robyn Hill safely returned to her home in Equestria.”
“I see,” the Sun Queen murmured. “I don’t suppose that I could persuade you to change your intentions, at least in regards to Anima? Your magic, the power that you wield, could do immense good with us here in Freeport; I might say the same of Ruby’s silver eyes. You could stay here and work for something real, something meaningful.”
“I am working for something meaningful.”
“A war that can never be won?” the Sun Queen demanded. “A crusade in the name of a dead man?”
“The war may be endless, but it must be fought nevertheless,” Sunset declared.
“Perhaps,” the Sun Queen murmured. “In any case, I suppose that there’s no way that I can persuade you to eat before you see Robyn?”
“None at all,” Sunset replied.
“In that case, she’s through that door,” the Sun Queen said, gesturing to an ironbound door on the left of the room.
Sunset’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”
“She’s waiting for you,” the Sun Queen said. “It would have been more polite of you to eat first, but… I suppose it also would have been more polite of you to wear the dress that I provided.” She smirked, presumably because she was worried she hadn’t been smarmy enough already.
Sunset didn’t respond to that. She didn’t feel the need. In fact, she didn’t say another word to her Remnant alternate self as she crossed the room towards the door where, according to said other self, Robyn Hill – the Robyn Hill of Equestria – was waiting for her.
She grabbed the wrought iron door handle. It was cold to her touch, even through the gloves she was wearing to restrain her semblance; the door was a bit stiff too, and the hinges squeaked as Sunset pulled, but nevertheless, they gave way, and the door opened.
The chamber within was barren, devoid of anything except its single occupant, a woman in a blue dress much like the one that the Sun Queen had tried to get Sunset to wear. She was a pony faunus, and just like Sunset, she possessed both ears and tail, both in the same pale blonde, almost white, colour as her hair, which was cut short and just only a little past her shoulders. Her face was long, and her eyes were violet. Obviously, she looked nothing like the Robyn Hill that Sunset remembered, but at the same time… those eyes, and that pale hair, yes, Sunset could believe that this was Robyn Hill.
“Robyn?” she murmured, pulling the door to behind her.
Robyn had been looking out of the window, gazing out at Freeport by night; now, she turned to face Sunset. Her eyes narrowed. “You… Sunset Shimmer?”
Sunset could not entirely restrain a smile. “I’m glad to see I made such an impression.”
“The colour of your mane made an impression,” Robyn corrected her. “Is it… is it really you? You’re the Sunset I remember, aren’t you? You’re-”
“From Equestria, the same as you,” Sunset acknowledged.
“And this is where you went?” Robyn demanded. “When you disappeared all those years ago?”
Sunset nodded. “Yes. This is where I went.” She paused. “How are you doing?”
Robyn stared at her. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“You need to go, now!” Robyn hissed. “It’s not safe. Equestria isn’t safe.”
Sunset felt her blood chill. An icy hand gripped her stomach even as her hands clenched into fists. I knew that I wasn’t to be trusted. “What’s going on?”
“I… I didn’t want to tell them anything,” Robyn insisted, “but she gets inside your head; there was nothing I could-”
The hinges squealed.
Sunset whirled around, her hands glowing green as magic gathered in both her palms.
Dawn Starfall stood in the doorway. Her smile was cruel and vicious as she met Sunset’s gaze.
Her eyes flashed.
And Sunset… Sunset found that she couldn’t move. More than that, she couldn’t feel her hands, her legs; it was as if her mind had been detached from her body. Her legs, her arms, her tongue, they were all gone and all unresponsive. There were only her eyes, and even then… the sight of Dawn was growing smaller, more distant, a sight consumed by darkness as Sunset felt herself falling, shoved backwards, descending into a lightless pit with no bottom.
She couldn’t teleport, she couldn’t cry out, she couldn’t even flail helplessly as she fell down and down, darker and darker until there was nothing but the blackness all around.
And then there was nothing at all.