//------------------------------//
// To A Successful Mission (New) 
// Story: SAPR 
// by Scipio Smith 
//------------------------------//


To A Successful Mission


“Sunset,” Ruby cried. “What are you eating?”
Sunset blinked in surprise and ostentatiously studied the two slices of bread in her hand. “It’s a sandwich,” she announced flatly.
“It’s got nothing in it!” Ruby complained.
“Don’t be ridiculous; it’s got watercress and celery in it.”
“'Watercress and celery'!” Ruby repeated, her tone aghast. “That’s not a sandwich filling; that… that’s nothing. You’re eating an air sandwich!”
Sunset rolled her eyes and ignored Ruby’s opinion on her diet as she bit into the sandwich; the celery had a satisfying crunch as her teeth drove through the slices. 
“I’m not altogether sure of Ruby’s motives for speaking out,” Twilight said softly, “but she does have a point. Did you know that celery is one of the only foods which consumes more energy to eat than you get back from consuming it?”
Sunset looked at her. “So… you’re saying that I’m losing weight by sitting here and eating this?”
“No,” Twilight said. “If you were only eating celery, that might be true, but bread definitely does not follow the same rule.”
“Pity,” Sunset commented dryly.
Rainbow snorted. “Concerned about your figure?”
Sunset raised one eyebrow in her direction. “Who wouldn’t want to look this good?”
“Get some muscle on your arms like me and Pyrrha, and then we can talk about looking good,” Rainbow bragged.
“You think you look better than me?” Sunset asked. She chuckled to herself as she took another bite out of her sandwich. “Dream on.”
“What, you think you’ve got something that I don’t?”
“I think that I’ve had a steady relationship and you haven’t,” Sunset said. And I didn’t get Flash on my winning personality.
Rainbow shook her head vigorously from side to side as she dug into her grilled cheese and meatball toastie. “I,” she declared, oblivious to the little bit of grilled cheese and meatball sauce dangling down the corner of her lip, “could get anyone I wanted to.”
“Oh yeah?” Sunset asked.
“Yeah,” Rainbow replied, as Twilight dabbed at the corner of her lip with a napkin.
“Go on, then.”
Rainbow hesitated for a moment. “I… don’t want to,” she said as Sunset jeered at her.
“You are both idiots,” Blake muttered.
“Yeah, I mean, who eats celery without peanut butter?” Sun asked.
“I do,” Sunset said. “Does anyone have a problem with that?”
“I don’t have a problem,” Sun replied. “I just think it’s weird.”
Sunset rolled her eyes and focussed on finishing off the remains of her sandwich.
In spite of the discussion, the tone in the dorm room was affable, friendly, and comfortable; in fact, it was only in that comfortable atmosphere that you could say the things that had been flying between Rainbow and Sunset without worrying about the kind of offence that would leave scars. She wouldn’t have brought up Flash in front of people she didn’t trust, for fear that they would use it against her; it would have been very easy for Rainbow to have pointed out that her long-term relationship ended in failure and social humiliation. But she didn’t, because there was a difference between banter and being a jackass, and they all knew each other well enough to stay on the right side of said line. 
Mostly. Nobody really knew Sun that well, or not as well as they knew one another, but he was Blake’s boyfriend, and he had been on the train mission, and it would have been its own kind of jackassery to have excluded him just because he was a relative newcomer to the group. 
Plus, the word was that his own team hadn’t taken kindly to him sneaking off to be with Blake, so it might possibly have been extra harsh to have excluded him from tonight. 
And, again, he had been on the train mission, and as much as a part of tonight was about sharing secrets, it was also about celebrating an operation which, for all its flaws, had been a great success when taken in the round. It would have been churlish not to have included in their victory feast someone who had been there when they gained the victory. 
The room was crowded, but not oppressively so; there was enough room for everybody: Sunset and Blake knelt cross-legged on Blake’s bed, that had been Sunset’s bed until she so generously gave it up; Sun sat on the floor beside the bed, his head almost but not quite in Blake’s lap; Pyrrha and Jaune sat side by side upon the window seat; while Ciel sat on Pyrrha’s bed in a fashion like a lady riding side-saddle upon a horse; Rainbow, Twilight, Ruby, and Penny sat on the floor, in two pairs on either side of the door; Ruby and Penny were closer to the bathroom, Rainbow and Twilight to the far wall where their initials were carved.
This disposition meant that there was space on the floor for the food and mostly room to reach it when you wanted more; the plates were paper, which combined with the food on offer to lend a festival air to proceedings as people moved back and forth across the room to refill plates that became progressively greasier and greasier until they became unusable and had to be exchanged for something else. 
The levels of cooking ability across the two teams – and Sun – varied considerably: Jaune could add ‘good cook’ to his ever-growing list of talents to balance out his inexperience as a huntsman; Ruby had an old family cookie recipe, which was no less an old family recipe for having apparently originated with her mother; Blake knew a few things about how to cook and serve fish which had the carnivores amongst the company in raptures; Twilight had apologised that her cakes were not as good as Pinkie’s, but not as good as Pinkie’s was a high bar to fall short of; Pyrrha was inexperienced but eager to learn; on the other hand, Sunset had never cooked before and had no intention of starting now, and she had seen what happened the last time Rainbow tried to bake and was grateful that she hadn’t tried again. 
It had to be said that a lot of the food didn’t particularly appeal to Sunset’s palate – the chicken pieces with that seasoning on some of it and that coating on the rest, the tuna in that pungent sauce, the meatball toasties, the sausage rolls – they all left her cold, and so, she left them well alone. But her friends were aware enough of her tastes that she was not devoid of things to eat besides the controversial watercress and celery sandwiches: there were cucumber sandwiches too, but there was homemade slaw, jacket potatoes, beans, macaroni, cookies, and cakes. 
Yes, there was quite enough that Sunset didn’t feel as though she was missing out by not eating of the flesh of another living creature. 
“So,” Blake began, “did anyone else in here know that Sunset was a monarchist?”
“You want to talk about this now?” Sunset demanded.
Blake shrugged. “We’re all here.”
Rainbow swallowed. “I didn’t know that,” she said, “but now that you’ve said it, it doesn’t surprise me.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Penny asked.
“It… isn’t really good or bad, I think,” Ruby ventured. “It’s just… a little weird.”
“It is a little bad,” Pyrrha sighed, her face beginning to redden, “if this is going where I think it may be going.”
“Where is it going?” Twilight said. “What do you mean by ‘a monarchist’?”
“She called Pyrrha’s mother ‘the rightful Empress of Mistral,’” Blake said.
“Which she is,” Sunset insisted.
“No,” Pyrrha murmured. “No, she isn’t.”
“The Emperor of Mistral laid down his crown at the end of the Great War, as did the King of Mantle and the Queen of Vacuo,” Ciel pointed out.
“The crown as a thing of gold, adorned with jewels, may be removed,” Sunset allowed. “It may be thrown away or melted down or laid at the feet of a greater conquering sovereign, but the crown, the weight of majesty of state, the royal rights and duties are not so lightly put aside.” Snatch Princess Celestia’s crown from off her head, tear the heavy necklace from around her throat, hurl her golden slippers into the fire, yet she will remain Princess Celestia. For a throne exists not only upon a dais in a palace, a crown is not just a gleaming diadem; throne and crown alike are forged and fashioned in the hearts of little ponies everywhere who accept – nay, who embrace – the princess as their sovereign. 
And so it is in Remnant also. Though the race be changed, that remains the same.
“Are they not?” Ciel inquired. “It seems to me that the three kings did both, for none ruled in Mistral, Mantle, or Vacuo thereafter; they had not only laid aside their ornaments but their burdens too.”
“Let’s not pretend that they did it voluntarily,” Sunset replied. “They were forced to do by the King of Vale-”
“The King gave up his crown, too,” Pyrrha reminded Sunset. “Having established peace amongst all four nations and set up a system that would preserve that peace, he laid down his own crown and authority both and retired to the newly founded Beacon  Academy.”
“Really?” Jaune said. “The King of Vale lived here?”
Pyrrha’s tone was fond as she said, “Jaune, he was the first Headmaster of the school. Doctor Oobleck covered that last semester.”
“Right,” Jaune said. “Thank you… for reminding me.” He laughed nervously. “No wonder I didn’t do so well on that test.”
“Yes, the King retired from the affairs of state and contented himself with the affairs of running the academy,” Sunset said, “while the four kingdoms were given over to lesser men.”
“Do you have to phrase it like that?” Blake asked.
Sunset looked at her. “That Mistralian historian you and Pyrrha have read described the period after the Great War as the world moving from a theatre of giants to a pantomime of dwarfs.”
“Yes, he did,” Blake said, “but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with him, and I don’t have to like hearing you say it. It sounds… wrong.”
“So the reason you wanted to talk about it is to convince me that I was wrong?” Sunset asked.
“You are wrong!” Blake insisted. “You can’t just talk about ‘lesser’ people as though you’re somehow different from the rest of them. You can’t just declare yourself better than everyone else-”
“Too late for that,” Rainbow muttered.
“I’m being serious!” Blake cried. “Pyrrha, I mean no offence, but your ancestor was a slaver. He kept my people as slaves. Why should someone like that, why should any one person, be allowed to rule over others, to make decisions that affect their lives and deaths? Why should so much power be bestowed upon someone who hasn’t earned it?”
“Because they do earn it, or they should,” Sunset said. “I admit that some of the kings and queens of the four kingdoms might have been a little less than perfect, but the ideal monarchy is so much grander and more glorious than even the ideal republic.”
“That’s because it is an ideal,” Blake said. “It doesn’t exist.”
“Ideals can exist,” Ciel declared. “Atlas is an ideal, a dream that we have conjured amongst the clouds and, with toil and hardship, made that dream a reality.”
“You might be working towards it,” Blake allowed, “but I’m not sure you’re there quite yet.”
“Okay, you want an example of a thing that exists?” Sunset demanded. “Pyrrha.”
“Please don’t bring me into this,” Pyrrha groaned.
“Pyrrha is training to become a huntress,” Sunset said. “Pyrrha is training so that she can defend her people; Pyrrha has defended her people against the karkadann when no other would.”
“That’s not very fair, Sunset; no one else could,” Ruby corrected. “Because they were all away. Not that you weren’t really brave, Pyrrha-”
“Believe me, Ruby, I quite understand what you’re saying.”
“Pyrrha behaved as the scion of a royal line ought,” Sunset asserted. “Meanwhile, what did the Councillors of Mistral do?”
“They asked Pyrrha to handle it,” Jaune said. “Do you think they should have gone out and fought it themselves?”
“Not necessarily, but come on, look at First Councillor Aris,” Sunset said. “She’s in power because she talks a good game and knows how to make lavish promises, but Ruby says that she starved the provinces of huntsmen for the longest time, and then when the White Fang started prowling around the city, she has done absolutely nothing to stop it. We in this room have done more to keep Vale safe than those who lead it.”
“That’s our job,” Ruby said. “Or at least it’s the job that we’re training for.”
“What is everybody talking about?” Penny asked. “I’m lost.”
“That makes two of us,” Sun admitted.
“Sunset doesn’t think that ordinary people should be able to decide who gets to be in charge,” Rainbow explained. “She’s wrong.”
“Am I?” Sunset asked.
“Yes,” Rainbow insisted. “Robyn Hill has never been elected to the Council; instead, we have people like Cadance and the General, good people, smart people. I’d rather have that than some motorbike racer be in charge just because of who his parents were. I know the system seems like it’s set up so that anyone can be successful, but real quality always finds a way to rise to the top.”
“I must confess that I am less sanguine about the political wisdom of the body politic,” Ciel said, “but in the interest of general harmony perhaps we ought to change the subject.”
“Oh, thank goodness for that,” Pyrrha groaned.
“I’m sorry, Pyrrha, I just…” Sunset trailed off. “I’m sorry. But I think what I think.”
“And what you think is…” Blake began.
Sunset frowned at her. “Go on.”
Blake shook her head. “No.”
“Go on,” Sunset insisted.
“Nobody wants to talk about this any more. I’m sorry for bringing it up,” Blake replied. “I should have known that it would spoil the mood.”
Silence descended in the dorm room. 
Rainbow’s look passed through discomfort, travelled across guilt very swiftly, and then entered mischievous territory. “You know, the real reason Sunset doesn’t like voting comes down to the time she was voted ‘Biggest Meanie’ in the Combat  School yearbook.”
Ruby snorted. “'Biggest Meanie'? You had a category for ‘Biggest Meanie’?”
“No, it wasn’t a real category,” Sunset hissed, “but that didn’t stop everyone from voting for me anyway. Every year.”
“What’s a yearbook?” Penny asked.
“It’s a book produced every year by Combat Schools,” Twilight explained. “Everyone has their picture inside, individually and with their class, and there are details about some of the clubs and sports teams; the upperclassmen get to answer to a few questions about their plans for the future, and all your friends sign the book so you can remember them after you graduate-”
“That all sounds wonderful.”
“And everyone votes for their fellow students to win superlative categories,” Twilight carried on. “Like 'Best Smile' or 'Class Clown' or 'Greatest and Powerfulest.'”
“Or 'Biggest Meanie,'” Sunset muttered.
“That last one doesn’t sound very nice,” Penny said.
“It wasn’t,” Sunset growled.
“You kind of deserved it,” Rainbow reminded her.
“Not every year, I didn’t,” Sunset snapped. “Not to mention, Flash and I ought to have been a shoo-in for Cutest Couple, but instead… you know, I can’t even remember who won Cutest Couple, they were that forgettable.”
“Oh, get over it,” Rainbow told her. “Everyone knows those awards don’t really mean anything.”
“Easy for you to say,” Sunset said. “You six got voted Best Friends every single year, and you were voted Most Likely to Succeed in your last year at Canterlot.”
Rainbow’s smile was unspeakably, unbearably smug.
Sunset glanced at Pyrrha. “I bet you were voted Most Likely to Succeed when you graduated Sanctum, weren’t you? No, Most Likely to Succeed and Best All Around.”
Pyrrha mumbled something so quiet that Sunset, even with two extra ears, couldn’t make it out.
“What was that?” Sunset asked.
Pyrrha’s face was flushed bright red. “And… Best Smile,” she confessed.
Sunset snorted. “Well, I won’t say that I can’t see it.”
“Twilight got that one,” Rainbow said, putting one arm around Twilight’s shoulders.
“I still feel like that's really unfair,” Twilight murmured. “Rarity should have won that, or Pinkie.”
“Nah, if you only focus on the smile, I can see that one too,” Sunset said.
“Besides, Pinkie won Class Clown, and Rarity was voted Best Dressed and Best Hair, so it’s not like either of them really missed out,” Rainbow assured her.
“All of this sounds kinda rough on anyone who didn’t get the votes, or who got the wrong votes,” Sun said. “It’s making me glad I didn’t go to combat school.”
“At any school other than Canterlot, you would have been a shoo-in for Class Clown,” Rainbow informed him.
“Is there not a difference between funny and foolish?” Ciel asked.
“Sometimes, sure,” Rainbow agreed. “But sometimes, stupid can be funny.”
“I bet you won something,” Sunset said. “Let me see… your close quarters aren’t good enough for Best All Around… Beauty and Brains.”
Ciel pursed her lips together. “As it happens, I was voted Most Unique. I’m still not certain it was intended as a compliment.”
“So you didn’t go to combat school either, Sun?” Jaune asked.
“Nah,” Sun replied. “I just picked up a few things growing up in Vacuo.”
“What do you mean, either?” Rainbow said. “You didn’t go to combat school?”
Jaune froze for a moment, with the look of someone who had forgotten that not everybody in the room knew his secret. “Well, funny story…” he began.
They ate, they talked, they laughed, and when they had eaten their fill the bin in the corner of the room was full to overflowing, and there were quite a few dishes in the kitchenette sink waiting for somebody to apply some elbow grease – and that person would probably be Sunset, given her lack of contribution so far – once they were done talking. 
Right now, however, they had some information to share. 
“So,” Sunset said, clapping her hands together. “We've come to the serious bit.”
“For a while,” Rainbow said, her tone subdued. 
Sunset shrugged at that. It implied an end to the serious mood that she was not certain would come before evening’s end. She licked her lips and glanced at Ruby where she sat on the floor next to Penny. “Where shall we begin?” she murmured, as much to herself as to anyone else. “Where shall we begin?”
“Magic is real, and Sunset’s got it!” The words burst out of Twilight’s mouth like water gushing through a hole in a dam. 
Silence descended on the dorm room. Pyrrha, Jaune, and Ruby – to whom this was not new – waited expectantly for any reaction from the Rosepetals, Blake, and Sun, to whom this was new.
Twilight laughed nervously. “Sorry,” she said. “I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”
Rainbow Dash blinked rapidly. “It… it’s real? Like real? All of that stuff-”
“Yes!” Twilight cried triumphantly. “All of it is real, I was right, and you owe me an apology for implying that I was crazy!”
“I never implied that you were crazy!”
“You told me that people see things after they hit their heads!”
“That’s a concussion, not craziness!”
“It didn’t feel that way,” Twilight said, quietly and with a touch of sullenness.
“I didn’t… sorry,” Rainbow said. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, I just… didn’t believe you.”
“I know.”
“But you were right?” Rainbow asked. She looked at Sunset. “Twilight was right. It’s all true?”
“I don’t know about all of it,” Sunset said. “I’m not even sure what all of it is – that’s why Twilight got me those books – but magic does exist, and I have some.”
“I don’t understand,” Penny said. “What do you mean when you say 'magic'?”
“That’s what I’d like to know too,” Blake declared, her tone wary. Her ears were pricked up sharply above her head, long and straight like arrowheads. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
“In some ways, 'magic' is a lazy catch-all term, for things currently beyond our scientific understanding,” Twilight declared.
“My magic is not beyond scientific understanding; it’s simply beyond scientific knowledge,” Sunset corrected her. In this world, anyway. In Equestrian terms, Twilight’s definition of magic as a kind of dark matter was wholly inaccurate, although she could see how it worked in Remnant. “And it’s going to stay that way,” she added, sweeping her gaze across the room and all its occupants before she focussed on Blake. “Have you never thought that my semblance was strangely wide-ranging?”
Blake’s brow furrowed. “Some semblances are more versatile than others. My clones can be combined with dust to produce a variety of different effects; it’s just not obvious because I don’t have access to dust. You might say that Weiss’ glyphs are strangely wide-ranging, but that doesn’t make it magic.”
“No,” Sunset allowed. “But I don’t have a semblance.”
She wouldn’t have thought that it would be possible for Blake’s ears to stick up any higher on top of her head than they already were, but somehow, they managed it anyway. “You… you don’t have a semblance?”
“It’s magic,” Sunset said. “I’ve been passing it off as my semblance. Which, incidentally, is a possible answer to your question, Dash: they have been using their abilities; you just didn’t notice.”
“Why…?” Blake began, but no other words followed the first, at least not straight away. “I’m sorry, Sunset, but why should… ? How can…?”
“You don’t believe me?” Sunset suggested.
“I don’t want to call you a liar,” Blake said delicately, “but… it’s a lot to take in.”
“Would it help if I turned that chicken piece into a frog?” Sunset asked.
Blake’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”
“It seems to be her favourite method of demonstration,” Jaune observed.
“Whatever happened to the last frog?” asked Pyrrha.
“I let it out,” Ruby explained. “It didn’t seem right to keep it cooped up in here.”
“It would have turned back into an orange if you’d left it alone,” Sunset said.
“Oh.”
Penny stood up, leaning forwards eagerly. “I’d like to see you turn something into a frog.”
“I am uncertain that would be sanitary in the presence of food,” Ciel said, “and this is not a children’s party.” She paused. “For my own part, I believe that you can do it; there is no demonstration necessary.”
“You believe her?” Twilight asked. “You believe that magic exists?”
“The world is full of extraordinary things, some of which can appear… inexplicable,” Ciel murmured. She clasped her hands together on her knee. “My mother once told me a story of a… it was after the conclusion of a particularly harrowing mission. She was flying a Skyray through the teeth of a snowstorm at night, having lost contact with all other members of her flight; one engine was out of action, communications were down, she was carrying six wounded men in need of medical attention, but she had lost contact with her home cruiser. No situation ever seemed more hopeless. And then… then she saw a light. A single light, as though a star had pierced the clouds but closer, so close to her airship, moving as though it were trying to guide her. My mother did not know what this light was, but she was out of options but not out of hope, and so, she followed this light, this guiding star, trailing it as it twisted and turned, keeping it ever before her until… until it disappeared, to be replaced a few seconds by the myriad lights of the Ardent, welcoming her home. 
“There was no air traffic detected beside my mother’s airship, no communications were received, and yet, something had guided her to safety. Just because the light cannot be explained does not mean that there was no light. There are more things in heaven and earth that we can dream of… or have yet dreamt of at least. We must have faith that all things will be revealed to us at need and that there is purpose to those things which we do not understand. If you say that you have magic and that that which you have led us to believe is your semblance is, in fact, said magic, then I believe you.”
“I suppose you have no reason to lie about it,” Blake said. “Or should I say, that you have no reason to stop lying, after having lied about it for some time already. But I still have questions.”
“You and me both.” Rainbow leaned back against the wall of the dorm room. “So the reason why you appeared to have gotten so much stronger since coming to Beacon compared to the way you sucked in combat school, that’s because you decided to cut loose with your magic?”
Sunset nodded. “I was hiding my light under a bushel before.” She grinned. “I’m not doing that any more, as you’ll find out if we ever meet in the sparring ring.”
Rainbow waved that off without responding to it. “Okay, so why hide in the first place?”
“Because I didn’t want to get poked and prodded by scientists to try and find out how magic works and how they can duplicate it.”
“But what if we could duplicate it?” Rainbow asked. “Maybe Twilight could figure out a way to copy it, to give it to everyone-”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“How do you know, you haven’t tried?”
“Because I know,” Sunset insisted. “I know how my own powers work. They aren’t something that I… my magic is an extension of myself, like my aura, almost. You can’t just replicate it, and even if you got close, then it wouldn’t be my magic, because other people aren’t me. The power would change to fit them, their personality, their aptitudes and natures. You can’t clone me.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless you’ve got secret Atlesian cloning tech that you’re not telling anyone about?”
“Don’t be ridiculous; we’re not working on anything like that,” Twilight said. “And if we were, I certainly wouldn’t admit it,” she added under her breath. “Anywayyy,” she went on, drawing out the word a little more than was strictly necessary, “while you’re probably right, I wouldn’t mind taking a look at you with a  couple of instruments.”
“Hmm, let’s think about that,” Sunset murmured.
“Can you at least answer the questions you didn’t get the chance to answer on the train because of Adam attacking?”
“Uh, yeah, okay, why not?”
“Have you always had these powers?”
“Yes,” Sunset said. “I was born with them.”
“Can you do anything with them that you haven’t shown yet?”
“Yes,” Sunset replied again, “but nothing useful in combat.”
“Turning things into other things could be pretty useful in combat,” Rainbow pointed out. “In fact, if you can do that, why do you waste time shooting laser beams?”
“Because aura blocks my magic,” Sunset explained. “I could turn an inanimate object into a frog, but I couldn’t turn you into a frog so long as your aura was up. I’d need to break your aura first, and at that point, I’d have won the fight anyway.”
“How about weapons?”
“Weapons are conduits for aura.”
“I know that,” Rainbow replied sharply. “But not when nobody is holding onto them.”
Sunset’s mouth opened just a little, but no words came out. That didn’t just happen. It was not possible that Rainbow Dash knew more about the way that Sunset’s magic could be used in battle than Sunset herself. 
I suppose General Ironwood likes her for a reason.
“Is it linked to your aura in any way?” Twilight asked, leaning forward expectantly.
“No, I’ve had my magic since before I unlocked my aura,” Sunset said. Since before I knew what aura was. “It’s like aura in that it’s unique to me, but it’s not connected.”
“Do you know why you have it?” Blake inquired, her voice soft. “I mean, out of all the people in the world, why were you born with this… unique gift?”
“How do we know it’s unique?” Jaune asked.
Blake frowned. “Because Sunset-”
“Is the only person willing to tell us about it,” Jaune said. 
“Hmm,” Blake murmured. “That’s… a good point.”
“She’s not unique,” Twilight insisted. “There are reports of unexplained phenomena like the one that Ciel’s mother described happening all over Remnant, and I think that magic… for want of a better name, is the cause.”
“Perhaps, but it still doesn’t answer my question,” Blake pointed out.
“No,” Sunset said. “But that… is my secret to keep.”
Blake held Sunset’s gaze for a moment, before she nodded. “Of course. The limits of your honesty are for you to set, not us.”
“That’s very understanding of you.”
“It would be a little hypocritical of me to be anything else, don’t you think?” Blake replied. 
“I don’t understand,” Penny said. “What does this mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Sunset said. “I’m still me. I just… my abilities come from a slightly different place.”
“I wouldn’t say that it doesn’t mean anything,” Rainbow said. “It means Twilight was right all along, for one thing.”
“And if Sunset exists, then that means there could be more out there,” Twilight added.
“If they don’t want to be found, you shouldn’t look for them,” Blake said. “Sun, how are you taking this? You’ve been very quiet.”
Sun shrugged. “It’s like Sunset said: it doesn’t mean anything.”
“You weren’t supposed to agree with me!” Sunset snapped.
“It’s like Ciel said: it’s a big world, and there’s a lot of stuff happening in it,” Sun added. “It’s cool for you, I guess, but… you know?”
“No,” Sunset said. “I don’t know, but apparently, neither do you.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, in response to Blake’s question, there isn’t any need to go looking very far for others with magic, because there’s someone else with magic sitting right here in this room.”
Ruby leapt to her feet, striking a pose with two fingers held in front of her right eye, while with her other hand she held her cape around her as though she was trying to hide in it. 
Penny gasped. “Ruby! You have magic too!”
“Yep!” Ruby announced proudly.
“Can you turn something into a frog?”
“No,” Ruby admitted, deflating a little. “I… the truth is I don’t really know what I can do. Or how I can do it.”
“Twilight,” Sunset said. “All the research that you’ve been doing into magic, and you never came across the idea of Silver Eyes?”
Twilight shook her head.
“What about 'The Warrior in the Woods'?” Jaune asked. “What about the tale of the Dragon and the Two Sons?”
“The warrior in 'The Warrior in the Woods' never actually does anything that can be described as magic,” Twilight replied. “Her silver eyes are remarked on as a feature of beauty, not as a weapon. And… I’ve never heard of that other one.”
“I can lend you the book, if you like,” Pyrrha suggested.
“Ruby’s eyes are of course notable for the uniqueness of their colour,” Ciel said, “but you suggest that there is more to it than that?”
Ruby nodded. “My mom kept a diary; in it, she talks about using her silver eyes to zap grimm, to turn them to stone or burn them or things like that. She called it magic.”
“We didn’t believe it either,” Jaune admitted, “until Sunset told us that she had magic too, then it started to seem a lot more plausible. If one kind of magic exists, then why not more?”
“Does Yang know about this?” Blake asked.
“About my eyes, yes,” Ruby said, “but not about Sunset.”
“Can you use this power?” asked Twilight.
Ruby’s face fell a little. “No,” she confessed. “In her diary, my mom says that it’s activated by feelings of love, but… she doesn’t really explain what that means, and Sunset’s magic is too different from mine for her to be able to help. And Sunset doesn’t want me to talk to Professor Ozpin about it-”
“Don’t say it like that, Ruby; it makes it sound like I don’t have good reasons,” protested Sunset.
“Well, you kind of… don’t,” Jaune said.
“I have excellent reasons, thank you very much,” Sunset declared. “I don’t trust him.”
“We know, you’ve said, repeatedly,” Rainbow muttered.
“Professor Ozpin knows about the power of your eyes?” Ciel asked. “To be clear?”
“Yeah,” Ruby confirmed. “He helped my mom learn to master them.”
“That explains why he let you into Beacon early,” Rainbow muttered.
Ruby went on, “That’s why I could ask him for help if someone trusted him a little more.”
“Well, I don’t trust him, and you shouldn’t trust him either,” Sunset insisted.
“I am inclined to agree,” Ciel said.
Pyrrha looked at Ciel in astonishment. “Excuse me?”
“Ruby, how effective are the Silver Eyes you speak of? Does your mother’s diary offer any indication?”
“Pretty strong, I think,” Ruby replied. “She used them to take out whole bunches of grimm, even if it did leave her pretty weak afterwards.”
Ciel’s face was creased by a frown. “The Headmaster of Beacon, a man sworn to defend the Kingdom  of Vale, has knowledge of a powerful weapon against the grimm and sits on knowledge and weapon both. He could approach Ruby and offer his services, in spite of Sunset’s disapproval, if wished to do so. Why does he not?”
“Perhaps he has some concern for Ruby as more than just a weapon,” Pyrrha suggested, a touch of acid corroding the tone of her voice.
“That is no reason to keep what he knows a secret,” Ciel said. “We should inform General Ironwood.”
“No,” Rainbow said. “We’re not going to do that.”
Ciel’s eyebrows rose. “Is there a good reason why not?”
“Because that’s not why they asked us here,” Rainbow declared, getting to her feet. “Ruby and Sunset are telling us these things because they trust us, and so, we’re not going to turn around and run our mouths about their secrets, not even to the General. Some things just aren’t ours to tell.”
Ciel hesitated for a moment, before she gave a curt nod of the head. “Very well. I understand and will keep all your confidences.”
“Besides,” Ruby said, “in my case, there’s not much to tell, since I can’t get my eyes to work.”
“Perhaps I could help with that?” Twilight suggested. “I understand that Sunset is wary of being examined, but it might be that I can find a scientific explanation for your magic that will enable me to unlock your access to it.”
“Really?” Ruby asked. “Do you think so?”
“It can’t hurt to try, right?”
“I don’t know, Twi,” Rainbow said. “Remember that time you tried to scientifically analyse Pinkie?”
“The bruises wore off eventually.”
“'Bruises'?” Pyrrha asked anxiously.
“Twilight had the bruises, not Pinkie,” Rainbow explained quickly.
Ruby nodded after a moment of what looked like thought. “I guess it couldn’t hurt,” she murmured. “Sure, if you think you can help, then why not?”
“Great!” Twilight cried.
“I’m a robot,” Penny announced. 
Everyone looked at her.
“You know, since we’re all sharing secrets,” Penny said.
There was a moment of silence before the room – most of the room – collapsed into laughter. 
“Thank you, Penny,” Pyrrha said. “That was… I think we all needed that.”
“Penny,” Ciel began. “Miss Belladonna and Mister Wukong-”
“It’s done now, Ciel,” Rainbow said. “I’ll explain to General Ironwood what happened. Kind of. In a way that doesn’t say anything about Ruby or Sunset.”
“Will you get into trouble?” Penny asked anxiously.
“Maybe,” Rainbow admitted. “But it was worth it this once.”
“And now everyone knows, we don’t have to worry about it being a secret any more,” said Ruby.
“You thought it was a secret,” Sunset murmured. “I’d worked that out weeks ago.”
“You did not!” Ruby declared.
Rainbow bent down and picked up her cup off the floor, raising it towards the ceiling. “Here’s to us,” she said, “and to a successful mission.”
“To a successful mission!”