Sunset had been sitting in place for hours. Her body was stiff, and her head ached worse than it had after finals week. At least there were breaks between her big tests, and she’d never considered their results terribly important. But here… here success or failure meant everything to her. She could have her magic back, if only she could reach out and take it.
It should’ve been easy: she had an expert right in front of her, and she was free to ask him any questions she liked, yet it wasn’t turning out that way.
“How long did it take you to figure this out again?” Sunset asked, her legs folded uncomfortably beneath her.
She twitched and shifted slightly, but didn’t move otherwise. This was the position Tempo had demonstrated, so she did everything she could to imitate it. “Did you get your magic back in… a few hours?” She pressed.
Tempo’s face cracked in a near-hysterical grin, the most intense emotion she’d ever seen from him. He hadn’t reacted so much when walking past the corpses of a dozen soldiers, and yet…
“A few hours? Stars and stones, no. What I’m teaching you took decades to discover. I can’t tell you how long it took me to learn once I discovered it, because that isn’t how the process worked. I mastered this knowledge as I went, my understanding gradually increasing over time. It’s a tremendous gift I’m sharing with you,” he explained, his smile gradually fading. “In fact you’re doing rather well. Are you sure you haven't been able to access your magic at all?”
Sunset Shimmer was about to say no, only to remember the moment she had with one of those creatures she had fought. “I’m not sure,” she admitted, only for her mind to immediately go elsewhere.
But we don’t have everything in common—Equestrian magic already came through for me. Will it stop me from learning this? She hesitated for a moment, considering whether or not to share that with him. But he seemed to already know what they were doing—and he’d been nothing but kind to her since they first met. With the possible exception of sending monsters that killed a bunch of people.
She wasn’t quite ready for that conversation yet, though. Sunset should probably feel guilty about it, but how could she when Perfect Tempo was trying to return the one thing she missed most about being a pony?
“Do you think I’ll be able to learn magic… despite my other powers?” she asked, her voice a timid squeak. “I mean… you probably already know.”
I think that’s why you’re always wearing gloves. Sunset Shimmer thought to herself. It was either that, or he took the musical elements of his name way too seriously, and moonlighted as an orchestra conductor.
He nodded, looking pleased as he did so. “I’m glad you’re willing to be honest with me about that, Sunset. Of course I can’t give you any knowledge for certain, since I’ve never encountered anypony with your specific abilities before. You and your friends serve as a… weakly entangled echo of the Elements of Harmony.
Yet the powers they grant you aren’t incompatible with pony magic—in fact, that’s all they are. Take the farmer as an example—Applejack. I’m going to take a guess from her name and her disposition that there is an earth pony with that name in Equestria, is there not?” Perfect Tempo inquired, claerly already knowing the answer.
Sunset nodded. “I haven’t met her, but… I think so.”
Tempo’s smile widened. “Her phenomenal strength seems spectacular when manifested by a feeble human body. But from an earth pony her age, it would be entirely unremarkable. Or Rarity—I could recreate the runecraft necessary for her shielding ability in a rote I could teach a filly half her age.”
Sunset fell silent, considering each of her friends in turn. Her own powers were mind magic—an elusive, universally forbidden art in Equestria. But there was no reason a unicorn couldn’t cast them. Twilight could use unicorn levitation, Rainbow had the speed of a pegasus… the comparison broke down a little when she thought about the other two. Fluttershy and Pinkie didn’t directly compare to any pegasus or earth pony abilities she knew, particularly the exploding sugar thing.
Five out of seven isn’t bad. It might just mean there are things about the tribe’s magic we don’t know. Wouldn’t be the only thing Celestia is keeping from us. Sunset Shimmer mused.
“I guess it makes sense,” Sunset admitted. “But I still don’t feel any more… magical.” She waved her hands through the air in front of her, frustrated. “I’ve been repeating the meditation for hours now. Shouldn’t something have happened at this point?”
Tempo shrugged. “I’ll admit, I have no idea. So much time has passed since I first mastered these basics that my memory is rather foggy and distorted. Allow me to ease your mind on the subject of magic.”
He gestured to one side, yanking something from one of the supply shelves a dozen metres away. It flew through the air towards them, an obvious example of unicorn magic.
A length of two-inch steel bar landed heavily in front of him—the kind that might’ve been used in the reinforced foundation of a skyscraper.
“You aren’t the only one with unusual powers, and they don’t stop us from using our natural gifts,” Perfect Tempo continued.
The bar was so heavy it had dented the concrete, but he lifted it easily with one hand. With the other he gripped the far end, bringing his hands together in a single, abrupt gesture.
The bar compressed between his flingers like they were a hydraulic press, turning bright orange and steaming. He dropped it on the ground in front of him, and the odor of hot metal rose from between them.
Not even Applejack is that strong.
“So you see,” he stated, not even breathing heavily. “It is not unusual for Equestrians taken to this side to… attract strange forces. This delves deep into the theoretical, but to simplify for you—magic is reactive. In Equestria’s ordered thaumic field, it remains in balance. Here—it twists and grows wildly, expanding in directions never seen before. If you remain here for as long as I have, I expect your simple power of postcognition and empathy will mature into something truly unique.”
“Something not even Celestia has seen before,” added Perfect Tempo in a low, conspiratorial tone.
Sunset Shimmer was ready to ask another question but something rumbled in the distance—the door opening for them again. He rose abruptly to his feet, dusting himself off and offering a hand to her.
“But that’s enough practice for one day. I’m sure you’ll agree that a mental challenge requires… periods of relaxation between great intensity,” Perfect Tempo explained.
She took the offered glove, careful to avoid the still-smoking bar of metal. She didn’t need magic to know what would happen if she touched it.
“Will we have to do this each day until I get it?” Sunset inquired.
He shrugged. “I’m afraid my schedule doesn’t permit such personal involvement. But you’ll find an area just like this waiting in the apartment—it’s on the floor below yours, along with illustrated references to my techniques. Study them at your leisure. Share them with your friends, if you wish. Just…” He rested one hand on her shoulder, meeting her eyes. “My one request is that you do not publish what I share with you to humans generally. Those six friends of yours, echoing the Elements of Harmony—feel free. But don’t put this online.”
He leaned in closer, his voice becoming low and dangerous. “I request very little of you, but I consider this a sticking point. Everything I say about the chaos of magic in you goes triple for humans. Your friends have been shaped by exposure to ordered Equestrian forces. Humanity as a whole—has not. If you spread what I have learned, it might very well put an end to their civilization. My experiments with humans over the years have always gone… poorly.”
Sunset twitched once under his grip—he wasn’t hurting her, but he also held her like a vice, impossible to resist or pull away. Despite all the intensity she didn't fear him.
She nodded. “I won’t, I promise.”
He let go, expression relaxing. “Good, good. Then my resources are at your disposal. Make sure you communicate the seriousness of the issue to your companions as well. I’ve taken some steps to prevent… accidental damage, so to speak, but they’re a resourceful bunch, and I know they could overcome any static defense I left in their way.”
A limousine emerged through the opened door, pulling to a stop beside the one they’d taken. “But before we conclude for the afternoon, some introductions are in order. Should you decide to work with me, you’ll want to know the others who are part of our noble endeavor. It is not merely my wife and I, as you probably already suspected.”
He strode away from her, gesturing for Sunset to follow. She did, waiting behind him with a shifting, nervous posture. It was just like back in Area 7, with the dead soldiers. She felt perfectly comfortable until he’d gone all serious about magic.
Tempo held up a hand to the chauffeur, gesturing to open the door with magic.
First out was the one Sunset had expected, Ghost. She smiled at Sunset, her eyes boring into the young woman like frozen knives.
“I can see the unicorn has been learning. Productive first day, Sunset?” She didn’t actually wait for her to answer, cutting her off. “Good. Learn quickly—there is precious little time.”
“You already know Ghost,” Tempo said, silencing the obvious question before Sunset could ask.
Someone new emerged from within, and she was completely frozen between laughter and awe. A towering figure emerged from the car, dressed in period armor not found in this part of Earth. But she’d seen pictures of it from some of the animated shows Flash had tried to get her to watch. He held his helmet under one arm, exposing a regal face with surprisingly delicate features.
“Harvest Moon,” Tempo stated. “My cousin. If you ever have trouble with nightmares, his sword is sharp enough to cut through them all.”
The man bowed instead of offering a hand, shallow and short. Sunset found herself imitating him on reflex, though she had no idea what she was doing. Why do you look so much like Luna? No, that wasn’t right. He looked quite a bit like Nightmare Moon. Sweet Celestia, did she have a child? Sunset Shimmer thought.
“Honored to meet you,” Harvest announced through a thick accent. “Perfect is optimistic about you. I trust his judgement.”
“Th-thanks,” Sunset said awkwardly.
What else was she supposed to say to a freaking samurai? Do you dress like that all the time? Who are you fighting, anyway? Sunset Shimmer pondered.
But she’d barely had time to process Harvest’s arrival before someone else emerged from within. Sunset noticed the smell first—like funeral spices masking a stench of formathalyde underneath. The figure could’ve been Sunset’s own age, with doll-like delicate features and a perfectly shaped face. But she could make out a few faint lines of white on her skin.
Were those, stitches?
“This is Platinum,” Perfect explained. “Platinum, the unicorn I told you about: the apprentice Celestia betrayed.”
To her surprise, this pony took Sunset’s hand with hers without hesitation. Her grip was utterly cold, like a fish Sunset had taken out of the fridge to make into someone’s lunch order. Worse, Sunset felt nothing from her. No emotions, no flash of memory.
“Pleasure,” Platinum offered. She too spoke with an accent, though it wasn’t one from Earth. It was Old Ponish, something the nobility might’ve used. Like a subtler version of the affectation ponies sometimes put on for Hearthswarming. “I hope you’re more useful than the last one.”
“Me too,” Sunset muttered, pulling her hand away as quickly as she could. She made a mental note to wash it as soon as she could.
“That’s almost everyone,” Perfect said. “I don’t want to overwhelm you Sunset, but I do think you should know who you’re working with.”
The limousine rocked on its suspension and something crawled out on all fours, before rising suddenly to his hindlegs. Exactly like a… dragon? A dragon with red scales and a creamy white underbelly, and blue on his wings. She couldn’t see much of those under the heavy cloak he wore, which struggled to contain a creature of his immense size.
“I-I thought…” Sunset stammered, voice failing her. “I thought dragons couldn’t use the mirror portal.” She almost said “looked like dogs,” but saying that to an adolescent dragon at least ten feet tall with spikes running down his head didn’t seem like a clever plan on her part.
Platinum chuckled cruelly. “I think the girl means to ask why aren’t you a dog, Thevetat?”
The dragon turned on her, reptilian eyes narrowing. He smiled, exposing wickedly pointed teeth. “Because dogs can’t fight monsters, now can they?”
“And that’s everyone,” Tempo quickly stated. “If you’d like to stay here, Sunset, you’re more than welcome. But I know how exhausting magic can be. I could have Walker take you home though I’m afraid I won't be joining you this time.”
“Home,” she stammered, her legs wobbling under her. “That would be… great.”