//------------------------------// // Sunset's Dream // Story: SAPR // by Scipio Smith //------------------------------// Sunset’s Dream Sami shielded her eyes, flinching away from the blinding silver light that consumed the world. She turned away, she screwed her eyes tight shut, she covered them up with both her arms. None of it helped. None of it kept that light from shining through her arms and eyelids both, shining straight into her eyes, or so it seemed. It was so bright. It was too bright, far too bright. Sami moaned as she felt the light burning into her eyeballs. She heard the great grimm, so mighty and so strong, crying out also, hissing and snarling and moaning in pain. She did not hear Tyrian, but she did hear the great host of the grimm let out a great howl loud enough to strike the moon and shake the stars where they hung in heaven… but then their cry was stilled, struck to silence in a moment, and there was only Sami's own mewling and the pained groaning of the three great grimm. It did not hurt; at least, it didn't feel like pain in that way. Sami was no stranger to pain, and this was nothing like her father's discipline, nor the beating of the cops as they dragged her to jail; this was… this was something else. This was like the pain she had felt as she watched, helpless, while her sister was laid screaming on the altar before her father cut her throat. Sami's eyes were closed, but the light shone through them nevertheless, and in the light stood all of Sami's sins remembered. The ghosts of her murders rose up out of the depths of her soul to surround her mind, silent but inescapable. Their pale and ghostly hands reached out to grasp at her. The light was snuffed out. The ghosts disappeared. Sami's sight was plunged into darkness. Of course she was; she had her eyes closed and covered up, and it was night. Sami lowered her arms. The night was dark once more, illuminated only by the light of the moon above them. She looked around. Tyrian yet stood, silent, a scowl upon his face. The grimm, illuminated by the light of the shattered moon, had ceased their advance that had seemed so relentless, so unstoppable. They had halted in their great mass and now stood still and silent as if… Sami blinked. Her eyes widened. They had been turned to ashes. All of them. The great army which had been poised to bring down Freeport in an orgy of blood and slaughter were now… nothing. "Did… did Sunset do this?" Sami muttered. "Would that she were the only foe we had to contend with," growled one of the three great, kingly grimm, the one who looked like a karkadann. Sami looked at them now. They had not been turned to stone, by the looks of things, or at least not completely; their bodies were flecked with scraps of stone that were falling like leaves down onto the ground in front of them, but there were not enough stone shards to have once covered their entire bodies, not even of the smallest of them, the beringel-like one who had ambushed them on the river. Perhaps it was because they had been much further away… no, not it was not so, because when Sami looked behind her, to where the goliaths had been placed in reserve, their entire fronts had been consumed by the silver light and turned to stone, and the fact that that stone, too, was now falling away to leave the elephant-like grimm trumpeting out their aches and pains didn't change the fact that they had been completely changed where the light struck them. Whereas these grimm, these more than grimm, they had only taken some hurt from it. Sami was inclined to attribute that to their power, not to the distance. The one who spoke with a female voice, who possessed both the wings of a pegasus and the horn of a karkadann, groaned and clutched her bony head with one hoof. "Knew you not, girl, that one of your company possessed the Eyes of Heaven?" "'The… eyes of heaven'?" "Silver eyes," Tyrian clarified impatiently. "Don't you remember how I noticed that her cousin had them too? Why did you think that I decided to kill her?" "I…" Sami hesitated. "Ruby's eyes are magic?" "Not just magic," declared the grimm who looked like a slender, wizened beringel, with a staff in his hand. "The magic of the God of Light himself, a shining light to burn away the darkness." The karkadann-like creature said, "She was not near so strong the last time that she used the eyes." "Then she has gotten stronger," declared the pegasus-unicorn. "As all good warriors should seek to do," added the wizened beringel. "Don't sound so admiring!" Tyrian snapped. "We have failed, again, to accomplish the will of the goddess!" "Then perhaps the goddess should give us better servants!" snarled the karkadann-looking one. "How can we fight against the eyes of heaven with only grimm to serve under us?" "Do you wish for other servants, my lords?" Sami asked. "Better servants? Or at least servants who are not vulnerable to silver eyes?" "We would wish for many things," scoffed the pegasus-unicorn. "We would wish ourselves back in time to easier days, we would wish ourselves in more congenial forms than those in which we are imprisoned, we would wish ourselves kings and queens in truth as well as in name. We would wish, indeed, for the world and all its treasures, but yes, we would wish for armies such as we led in ancient times, but wishing will not make it so; what of it?" Sami knelt. If there was one thing she had learnt already, it was that these were proud creatures, and they would not endure offence at her hands. So she knelt, that she might rise later. "Wishing will not make it so, my lady, but I know where – or how, at least – a better army, a human army, may be raised." For a moment, all three of these grimm and yet not grimm-like creatures were silent. The wizened beringel spoke first. "What army? How?" "In this land," Sami said, "there are many clans, my own, the Fall Forest Clan, amongst them. These clans are hardy and strong, for we are warriors, and all our folk are ever ready to take up arms to defend ourselves or to take what we will from the weak and feeble townsfolk whose villages infest the lands we roam. Some of these clans, my own amongst them, keep the old ways. We worship the old gods, we tell stories of the ancient powers – the powers that you wield, that you prove are more than stories. You, my lords, are ancient gods such as we tell stories of, such as we… such as we spill blood for in sacrifice, giving even the chieftain's old child to appease your wrath." She shuddered. "Appoint me to be your voice, and I will help you raise these clans in arms as your loyal soldiers." "Pah!" spat the karkadann-like creature. "Unwashed savages? A rabble sprung from a dozen squabbling clans in furs and unkempt bears, that is the army that you offer." "It is an army," argued the ape-like thing. He advanced upon Sami, and the crystal in his staff seemed to glow brighter. "My name is Corypheus, but men called me the Storm King, when they spoke of me. Do you speak true? It is no lie, this army that you tell us of?" Sami looked up and into the Storm King's burning eyes. "No, my lord. I speak the truth with every word. When they hear that magic has returned to the world, they will flock to you." "Not for the joy of serving me, I have no doubt," the Storm King said. His eyes burned into her. Sami could not have lied even had she wished to do so. "No, my lord," she confessed. "Long have we sought the return of magic, such as our forefathers once possessed." "You are of the old blood," the Storm King mused. "Interesting. Very well; serve me faithfully, and you will find me as generous a lord and more as… as the goddess," he said, with a mocking tint to his voice. He chuckled to himself. "You do not want these warriors, Sombra?" Sombra was the one who looked like a karkadann; he shook his head. "I would rather teach these grimm to be soldiers than march at the head of a barbarian horde." "Very well; I hope you do not rue it overmuch when you face Ruby Rose and Sunset Shimmer once again," the Storm King laughed. "And you, Selene?" The one with the female voice stood up, flicking her wings out as she did so. "I was not one for armies, as you were. I will leave you to play the warlord, Storm King, and much joy may you have of it. For my part, I think that I shall seek out Tirek and see what he intends." "And I must find a way to bear the goliaths across the water, to where Sunset Shimmer and her party head next," Sombra added. "Then I shall turn my eyes away from Vacuo and begin my conquests here, amongst these wild and hardy folk," the Storm King declared, "and make a royal seat in Freeport with my army, which my new servant…" "Sami, Lord," Sami informed him. "Sami shall obtain for me," the Storm King concluded. "Wait just a moment!" Tyrian cried. "How does making yourself king of that fleapit town or raising an army assist you in following the instructions of the goddess?" "If your mistress wishes to chide me, she may come herself and make me bend the knee," the Storm King said. "Until then, I will not be ordered by a mere servant. I am a king and soon shall have an army and – after that a – kingdom to my name. I am not yours to command, and neither is this girl. She serves me now; you have no part of her." Tyrian glared at Sami. He glared at her so hard that it was as if he was trying to poison her with his eyes instead of with his tail. "Insolent disobedience… you will regret this." "Perhaps, but I doubt it," Sami said softly. She could not kill Sunset Shimmer as she was, she could not obtain magic as she was; she was too weak to obtain magic without already possessing magic. It was an iniquitous circle, one that would have closed upon her like a noose to strangle all her hopes except that there were other powers, powers which might be generous with the rewards for loyal service. Serving Tyrian, the most she might obtain was the chance to kill a Maiden and become a Maiden herself; but that would require her to kill a great warrior with only her own skills to rely on. But if the Storm King were to gift her with power, then… then the odds might become a little more even. And even if it were not so… there were worse things than to be the right hand of a king. Certainly it was better than being the apprentice of a servant, or a mere member of a band of warriors. She would rise higher and higher without limit, until in her, all the dreams of the Fall Forest Clan came true. It took Sunset a moment to recognise the house. It was wooden, and rustic, and homely, and not like anywhere that she had ever seen before. Except it was. It just took her a moment to remember that this was Ruby’s house, the log cabin in the woods, with the sunflowers growing in the little flowerbeds outside and the deck to stand on and watch the world go by. Sunset looked around, unsure what she was doing here. It was a nice place, warm and inviting, but that was only because of the people in it, not the place. It wasn’t the kind of place that she would choose to visit ordinarily. “Ruby?” she called. “Ruby, are you there?” There was no answer. The night was cold; Sunset could see her breath misting up in front of her face. There was a light on in the kitchen. “Hello?” Sunset called. “Hello in there?” There was no answer, but the light stayed on. Sunset supposed there was only one thing to do. She walked up to the house, her boots thumping a little on the ground outside; she frowned as she reached the door, because the sunflowers were blooming. They shouldn’t have been, considering that it was night, and the moon, not the sun, was shining down upon them, but they were. Blooming sunflowers in the middle of the night. It was weird. Sunset shook her head and knocked on the door all of one time, because it swung up at her slightest touch, so that her knuckles barely made a tap upon the wood. Sunset walked inside. It was just like she remembered it, with the fire burning in the grate and the threadbare sofa and the TV. No people, though. No sign of Ruby or Taiyang or even the dog. “Hello?” Sunset called again. “I’m in here, Sunset,” came the reply. “Couldn’t you tell from the light?” Sunset blinked. “Yang?” “Right here,” Yang replied. Sunset frowned, and the frown remained upon her face as she made her way into the kitchen, which was also just like she remembered it: rustic. Yang stood by the sink, washing out a mug – her own mug, with her name written on it in vivid yellow letters – with a damp rag. She had a smile on her face as she turned around, still holding the mug, to lean against the kitchen surface. “Hey,” she said. “Um, hey yourself,” Sunset said. Yang chuckled. “Were you expecting someone else?” “Well… you are dead,” Sunset pointed out. Yang shrugged. “Nothing lasts forever.” “Don’t I know it,” Sunset muttered. She winced at the selfishness of that. “I didn’t mean… I can’t compare it to-” “You don’t need to apologise,” Yang assured her. “You’ve done enough of that.” She turned away for a moment and put the mug back in the cupboard with the others. “You’re not here so that I can yell at you or criticise you or even give you any advice.” “Then why am I here?” Sunset asked. “You’re here so I can tell you,” Yang said, turning back to face Sunset once more, “that you did a good job.” She grinned. “I mean, it wasn’t a perfect job, but, it was okay. Ruby lived, and so did most of everyone else. Ruby lived, and she’s going to be okay. You did a good job.” Sunset blinked. “This is a dream, isn’t it?” “So?” “So isn’t this just me telling myself that I did a good job?” Yang shrugged. “Isn’t it about time you told yourself you did a good job?” “I don’t…” Sunset hesitated, because the truth was that if she hadn’t been so bent on talking herself down at every conceivable opportunity, then Dawn would not have found such easy purchase in her head… but then the flipside of that was that because of Sunset, Sunsprite Rose was dead. “Maybe… and yet not.” “Things have to be different from now on,” Yang said. “I know,” Sunset said. “You can’t go back to the way you were.” “I know,” Sunset insisted. “You have to-” “Don’t say move forward; Cinder hates that,” Sunset said. “Cinder might not like it, but you need to hear it,” Yang informed her. “You can’t dwell on the things that didn’t work out; you have to make sure that you-” “Do better,” Sunset said. “Yeah, I know.” “Everyone deserves a second chance,” Yang said. “Even from yourself.” “I’m pretty sure this is something like my fourth or fifth chance,” Sunset said. Yang chuckled. “Just so long as you don’t need a sixth.” She paused for but a moment. “Thank you, Sunset.” “For what?” Sunset asked softly. “For taking care of my sister,” Yang said, and as she spoke the words, she disappeared, vanishing into the ether as though she had never been, turning to mist before Sunset’s eyes. Like the mist that was filling up the house as the light in the kitchen went out. “I am glad to see that your dreams are – just a little – more positive, Sunset Shimmer,” Princess Luna declared, from behind Sunset in the living room. “Although I see that there remains some work to be done.” Sunset turned around. “Princess Luna?” she asked. She couldn’t help but fold her arms, and a slight tartness crept into her tone as she added, “At the risk of sounding rude, but your timing could be a little better.” Princess Luna closed her eyes and bowed her head a little, her long and flowing mane of black and midnight blue drooping slightly in what looked like shame. “I am aware that I was not here when you might most have looked for aid, and when you were most in need of it. I sensed your distress, but… it was muted, muffled somehow, as though you were screaming into a pillow or…” Sunset waited a moment. “Or what, Princess?” “Trapped in a chest, your sobs barely audible,” Princess Luna finished, her voice softer now, barely more than a whisper. “That… is not wholly inaccurate,” Sunset murmured. “Indeed,” Princess Luna agreed. “I tried to reach you, but something kept me away. Our connection across worlds is faint enough already, and something… it was not like anything that I had ever felt before, it was like a shield around your mind, one that I could not penetrate.” “Dawn,” Sunset said. “Dawn?” Princess Luna replied. “My sister had a pupil of that name.” “This was her human counterpart,” Sunset explained. “I’m guessing that part of the reason you couldn’t penetrate her was because she isn’t a pony, and so you had no connection to her.” “But why was she shielding your mind?” Princess Luna asked. Sunset opened her mouth, but then hesitated without actually saying. “I… forgive me, Princess, but I’m not sure how many times I want to tell this story. And I can already imagine that I’m going to have to tell it to Ruby and Cinder, and maybe the others too, and then I’m going to have to tell Twilight and Princess Celestia, and when we get to Anima, I might even have to tell Jaune and Pyrrha, and I… and I just… I’m not sure that I can…” She slumped forward, a sigh escaping from her lips. “How am I supposed to tell them what I did?” Princess Luna was silent for a moment. “I will not demand that you tell me what you did, but it is difficult for me to answer else.” Sunset laughed bitterly. “Yes, yes, Princess, I see your point. What I did… well, you might be glad to know that I didn’t put anybody’s lives at risk this time… except I did, even if I didn’t know it.” She slid down the doorframe, and as she slid, she was transformed, turning from human into unicorn, and as a unicorn, she sat down upon her haunches looking up at the princess of the moon. “I gave up,” she whispered. Princess Luna said nothing. There was no judgement in her face or in her eyes. She simply looked down on Sunset and waited for her to continue. “I gave up,” Sunset repeated. “Dawn got into my mind, using her semblance, she took control of my body, and I… I let her. I stopped fighting. I gave up, and because I gave up, my friends were put in danger. Ruby almost died, Cinder… all because I was tired. Because I felt guilty. Because letting it all end was easier than going on.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “How am I supposed to tell my friends that I didn’t have the courage or the strength to go on, that I would rather leave them to face the horrors of the fight alone just so that I wouldn’t have to feel bad anymore?” Her eyes were still closed when she felt the feathers of the wing wrap around her, soft and warm and gentle; not so gentle as an embrace from Princess Celestia, but soft nonetheless. Sunset’s eyes opened to see Princess Luna sat beside her, looking down upon her with sadness in her eyes of midnight blue. “None of that is anything to be ashamed of,” she declared. “Weariness, sadness, guilt, none of that is anything to be ashamed of. Not at all. And if your friends are truly your friends, then they will know that, even as I do.” She hesitated. “I am sorry that you had to fight that battle alone.” “Fortunately, I wasn’t alone,” Sunset informed her. “I had Amber with me, in the end.” Princess Luna didn’t press her for details; she simply said, “I am glad that someone was there, when I could not be. You must forgive me for being so infrequent a visitor, but you must understand that as the guardian of all of Equestria’s dreams, there are many demands on my attention.” Sunset nodded. “I understand that I’m just one… just one life, Princess. I’m not the centre of the world, even if I sometimes think I am.” Princess Luna chuckled. “But, since I am here now, you have no need to hide your feelings from me.” “I’m not,” Sunset said. “I am… Amber helped me to… I know that I can’t obsess over my mistake at Vale any more. I can’t keep letting it define me. But at the same time, I can’t help but think about the evil that was done in my absence, when Dawn had control over my body, the way that my friends were put in danger, that Ruby’s cousin died… I know that guilt does me no good, but how can I just blithely dismiss the consequences of my actions?” “Are you sure that you don’t consider yourself the centre of the world?” Princess Luna asked. Sunset’s brow furrowed. “Princess?” “What of the actions of others?” Princess Luna asked. “What of those who slew Ruby’s cousin? Had they no will of their own? Might they not have done the same whether you were there or no?” “If I was there, I might have stopped it.” “Then you will remember it and save the next soul in danger whom you come across,” Princess Luna told her. “But in the meantime, this Amber was quite correct; it does no good to dwell upon the guilt that we feel, the wrongs that we must atone for. In the end, as you have discovered, our guilt can do or threaten as much damage as that for which we felt the guilt.” “Did you?” Sunset asked. “Indeed,” Princess Luna declared. “I created a Tantabus, a creature of nightmare to torment me while I slept. I thought… do you know what Celestia did to me, on the night when I was returned to myself by Twilight and her friends?” “I cannot imagine it was anything too harsh,” Sunset said, a trace of a smile upon her face. “Nothing,” Princess Luna told her. “She stood over her and offered me the chance to rule beside her, as we had once before. She offered me the chance to be her sister again. And then we rode together in her chariot, and the little fillies garlanded me with roses, and all I could think was how little I deserved these praises and these honours. And so, since no one living would punish me, I created my own punishment to scourge me in my dreams.” “I take it you didn’t tell Princess Celestia about this,” Sunset said dryly. Princess Luna chuckled. “Indeed not; I can imagine what she might have said about it… largely because she said it, vociferously and at some length, once she did learn of it. But I, in my folly, was convinced that I needed to suffer.” “And now?” Sunset asked. Princess Luna smiled. “Twilight, as always. She helped me to see… to see better. She is an ophthalmologist of the soul.” “A very handsome way of phrasing it, Princess,” Sunset said. “I… am glad you didn’t tell me about this Tantabus sooner; I might have been tempted to create one for myself.” “No, lacking such, you simply submitted to the cage and the whip and the collar,” Princess Luna said. “Was I wrong to do so?” “According to the laws of the world you have chosen, perhaps not, but if you expected it to salve your guilt or restore your good name with those closest to you…” She paused. “No one who loves you will need you to prove the immensity of your sorrow by the depths of suffering you are willing to inflict upon yourself. No one who hates you will be convinced of your sincere repentance by the scars you carve into your flesh. And I’m sure that you have learned the great irony of all of this by now.” Sunset smiled wryly. “That none of the suffering… it doesn’t even make us feel better.” “Indeed,” Princess Luna agreed. “And that, in turn, makes us feel as though we must suffer more until we are practically addicted to it.” “Even as we hate the fact we feel we need it,” Sunset murmured. “Indeed,” Princess Luna agreed. “As for your original question, I am sure that if you tell your friends you do not wish to discuss it, they will not press you on the point, and as for this new guilt, I advise the same as I would have advised for the old guilt: remember it, but do not feel it.” “Learn and do better,” Sunset said. “Precisely,” Princess Luna said. “Can you do that?” Sunset hesitated for a moment, but when she nodded her head, her movements were firm and precise. “I can,” she said. “I will. I will save Professor Ozpin, in whatever guise he is now, and I will do… no wrongs, or at least no old wrongs. I cannot claim to be so wise that I will avoid all the new wrongs that might cross my path.” “No one is so wise, not even Twilight,” Princess Luna said. “Perish the thought that the Princess of Friendship should be fallible,” Sunset declared in mock horror. “But I will not torture myself further; you have my word.” “It is not I who requires your word on that, Sunset Shimmer, but yourself,” Princess Luna reminded her. Sunset let out a little solitary sigh. “You are correct, of course, Princess. Very well then; I have my word.” “And what will you do instead?” “Be proud,” Sunset said. “Be vain, be utterly sure of myself… even to my own detriment.” She smiled, but only briefly; like a peek of sunlight through the clouds it vanished ere it was seen. “Be humble, be my harshest critic, be Professor Ozpin’s servant and let him use me as he will, even as a pack mule or a hunting hound. I shall be… I shall be myself, in all things save this guilt that has weighed me down and the selfishness I came to rue and so obtained the guilt. And I will…” Princess Luna blinked. “And you will what?” “I am not yet sure,” Sunset admitted. “But I… in my vanity, that I have mentioned, I do not wish to simply be another in a line of servants to kneel before Professor Ozpin and fight his battles for him. I wish for more than to leave this struggle to Jaune and Pyrrha’s children and the new generation that will follow us. I would see Pyrrha’s dream made reality. I would see Remnant made safe for those that will come after.” “You would save the world?” Princess Luna asked. “If I knew how,” Sunset replied. “I do not seek to draw level with Twilight’s count; where does that stand now?” “Four times, at present,” Princess Luna replied. Sunset chuckled. “Once will be enough for me… although I do not know the way.” “Don’t let that stop you searching for it,” Princess Luna said. “For even if you do not find it, I think that in the seeking you will discover much that is worthwhile and of great good to the world.” Sunset got back up onto her hooves. “I shall,” she said. “Thank you, Princess. I hope… I hope to see you soon in the waking world.” “Ah, yes, your desire to travel through Equestria.” Sunset laughed. “At this point, Princess, I must confess that I simply wish to come home, if only for a short visit. Is that so wrong?” “No,” Princess Luna said at once. “No, I think you would be most welcome. Until then, Sunset Shimmer, fare well and the greatest of good fortune.” Sunset bowed her head. “Fare well, princess.” Sunset opened her eyes, and then immediately shut them again against the glare streaming in from the window. It was not a wide window by any means – it was a very narrow window, made to keep out arrows as much as let in light, and that fact told Sunset that she was back in the Tower of the Sun – but it was shining right in Sunset’s face and into her eyes, and so, she screwed them tight up as she pushed her chair backwards, scraping across the stone floor. “Huh?” Ruby murmured, and Sunset – opening her eyes now that she was out of the direct sunlight – saw that while Sunset was sat in an admittedly large chair, swathed in a great brown bear pelt serving as a blanket, Ruby was snuggled up in a bed that was a lot bigger that someone her size needed, buried beneath furs and blankets, her head protruding above them like a burrowing creature sticking its head above the soil. Her silver eyes fluttered open. “Sunset?” Sunset smiled. “Hey. Good morning. At least, I think it’s morning.” “Morning,” Ruby replied as she struggled to free herself from under the mass of bedclothes she was buried under. As she managed to get her arms out from under the covers, she asked, “Where are we?” “You’re in the Tower of the Sun, in what used to be the Queen’s bedchamber,” Ember announced, making her presence felt in the room. Sunset looked around and saw her sitting in the corner, in a smaller and less comfortable-looking chair than Sunset had been sleeping in, her arms folded across her chest. The sceptre of her rule sat in her lap, the fire dust set atop it glimmering in the sunlight. “And it is the morning: Thursday morning, to be precise.” She smiled. “I hope you’re feeling a little better.” The bear pelt shrugged off Sunset and fell to the floor in a heap before her feet as Sunset got up. “Lady Ember-” “You can sit down again if you want,” Ember said. “You have no need to show me any deference.” It was her turn to rise now, the wooden chair on which she had been sitting creaked a little as she vacated it. She gripped the sceptre tightly in one hand. “It is for me to do honour to the saviours of Freeport.” She knelt, in a single fluid motion, dropping to one knee in front of Sunset, the fire dust crystal set in her sceptre held above her heart. Her head was bowed, although her eyes remained open, fixed on Sunset’s boots. Ruby struggled to get out of bed. Sunset gave her a hand, a touch of telekinesis lifting some of the troublesome layers away. “You don’t need to-” “Yes,” Ember said firmly. “I do. Everyone knows that it was you two, and the two of you alone, who saved Freeport last night.” “Everyone did their-” “Everyone is crediting the two of you,” Ember informed them both. “And for that reason I owe you my thanks, mine own and those of the Summer Fire Clan. Thanks to you, my people are safe, and all have lived to see the sunrise. I owe you my undying gratitude… and my most grave apology.” “'Apology'?” Sunset repeated. “What for?” Ember was silent for a moment. “It took me too long to see that the Sun Queen had become wicked, that all of her promises of peace and security had become worthless if she was willing to betray those around her so easily. Rutherford saw it, but not only was I blind to it, but I allowed myself and my clan to become the Sun Queen’s tools in enforcing her will.” Sunset stared down at her; one might almost say that she glared down at her. “Is this true?” she asked Ruby, her words growing claws. “Y-yes,” Ruby murmured. “But she also joined with Prince Rutherford to save me from Tyrian.” “Too late,” Ember muttered. “Mhmm,” Sunset mused. She turned away, her tail flicking back and forth, her hands clenching into fists. So, she had helped Ruby and the rest, but only after putting them in danger first, eh? Sunset’s other self had been willing to sacrifice anyone in order to maintain her power and her life, and it had only lately occurred to Ember that, well, she would be willing to sacrifice anybody in order to maintain her power and her life? Mind you, I’m hardly in a position to lecture anyone on that front. Sunset turned back. Ember remained where she was, kneeling on the floor in front of them. Sunset glanced at Ruby, to confirm that she sought no vengeance upon the lord of the Summer Fire. Ruby’s smile, and the look in her bright silver eyes, were all the answer that she required. “Rise, Lady Ember, please,” Sunset said. “You did what you did for the sake of your people; I have neither right nor will nor desire to fault you for that, still less to judge you.” Ember rose cautiously to her feet, her blue eyes wary. “That’s it? I was expecting something a little more… I was expecting something.” “I am not your queen,” Sunset declared, although that probably didn’t mean as much to Ember as it did to Sunset herself. “I cannot fault you, and I certainly cannot… do anything, if that was what you expected. Did you want us to punish you?” “You may do with me as you like,” Ember said. “You may kill me, if you like.” “I do not like,” Sunset insisted. “I don’t even like the idea.” “Me neither,” Ruby said. “We don’t do that kind of thing, especially not for trying to do the right thing.” Ember looked at Ruby now, her eyes widening. “You call arresting your companions and almost standing by while you were put to death the right thing?” “I thought that going to my death was the right thing,” Ruby replied. “I guess we were all pretty confused last night.” Ember shook her head in disbelief. “You are a strange folk, you from the kingdoms,” she declared. “Nevertheless, if you wish it, I will give up my sceptre and make way for another lord of the clan as my father did before me.” “I’m guessing your father was a little older than you are now,” Sunset remarked. “Yes, of course, but I will do it nonetheless; it’s important that the lord of the Summer Fire Clan enjoys your confidence.” “Why?” Sunset demanded. “Why does that matter at all?” The hinges creaked on the iron-banded door as it swung inwards into the room. Cinder walked inside, stopping in her tracks just a few paces in. “You’re awake,” she observed. “Nobody told me.” Sunset grinned. “It was only a moment ago.” “Nevertheless,” Cinder replied. She smirked. “Have you two been told that you’re the heroes of the hour yet?” “As it happens, yes,” Sunset said. “And about time too; you’re due some recognition,” Cinder said lightly. She paused. “It’s going to make you absolutely insufferable, isn’t it?” “Oh, absolutely,” Sunset agreed. “Hero of Freeport does have a certain ring to it, don’t you think?” Cinder chuckled. “Newly wakened but in fine form.” “Newly wakened in more ways than one,” Sunset replied. Cinder raised one eyebrow. “Indeed? And how are you, Ruby?” “I’m okay,” Ruby murmured. “I’m… better, now, thank you.” “I’m glad to hear it,” Cinder said softly, with a slight inclining of her head. “Will you have breakfast first, or are you up to visitors?” “Some privacy would be appreciated for a little longer,” Ember declared. “Although Prince Rutherford’s presence would be welcomed.” Cinder glanced at Sunset, who gave her a very slight nod of the head. “Very well,” Cinder agreed, and she backed out of the room once more and closed the door behind her. The hinges squeaked again. Ember waited until the door was closed before she began to speak again. “You saved Freeport and the clans last night,” she said. “And for that, you have my thanks, and when Prince Rutherford arrives, I have no doubt that you will have his thanks as well.” She offered a slight, wry smile, “I hope you’re not too attached to your ribcages.” Sunset snorted. “I’m sure we’ll make do without.” Ember nodded approvingly. “For his part, Rutherford never liked the idea of abandoning you to the Sun Queen’s mercy. He always felt that, even if you weren’t owed the protection of Freeport, then you were at least owed the protection of the Frost Mountain Clan. The only reason he did not come to you aid sooner is that I threatened to set my strength against his. Please, don’t hold it against him; again, the fault is mine, not his.” “You condemn yourself as much as I did,” Sunset observed. “Did you have cause to condemn yourself?” Ember asked. Sunset winced. “A little bit, yeah.” “Well then,” Ember replied. “Are you sure you would not rather deal with someone else? My father is not so old that he could not retake the reins of-” “We didn’t come here to depose chieftains,” Sunset assured her. “Did you come here to dethrone queens?” Ember asked. “Because you seem to have done that.” Sunset did not know what to say to that; it was true, after all. Two Sunsets had gone up the tower, and only one of them had come back down again. Not only was the Sun Queen dead, but her closest adviser and most faithful follower, too. I could blame my rage for making me heedless, but the truth is that, in my rage, I would not have cared even if I’d known. “We don’t want to depose you or force you to step down or anything like that,” Ruby said. “So, why don’t you just tell us what you want to say, and then we can deal with it from there?” She smiled in what might have been meant to be an encouraging manner but which ended up seeming a little nervous. Ember glanced down at the sceptre she held in one hand, “Right. Straight to the point. Okay then. Free-” The door crashed open, hitting the wall behind it with a crunch so solid that the wood shook between the iron bands, and Sunset half-expected the door itself to shatter into splinters under the force that had been exerted on it. Prince Rutherford stood in the doorway, struggling to fit his broad shoulders through it, the horns upon his helmet sticking so that the helm itself fell off his head; he had to duck to avoid banging his head upon the stone doorframe. “Friends awake!” he bellowed, spreading his arms, each as thick as a tree trunk, out on either side of him as he strode into the room. “Prince Rutherford overjoyed to see friends hale and hearty!” Ember wisely scrambled out of the way as Prince Rutherford bore down upon them, taking Sunset and Ruby both within his great arms and pressing them against his barrel chest. Sunset could feel Prince Rutherford’s mailshirt pressing against her cheek, just as she could feel the fur of his cloak against one of her ears. The embrace was tight, and Sunset was exceedingly glad of her aura as she felt her body contort in ways that it was probably not meant to. But she did not complain. In fact, as Prince Rutherford squeezed her tight as if she were a juice box from which he was trying to extract the very last drops of liquid, Sunset found herself smiling. It was really very lovely to be wanted. When she opened one eye, she found that Ruby was smiling too. And that made it even better. Prince Rutherford released them both, and Sunset’s pleasure at the prince’s obvious appreciation did not quite prevent her from staggering backwards away from him. The prince either did not notice or did not care, for he laughed jovially as he clasped them both on the shoulders hard enough to cause their knees to buckle. “Hail, Sunset Shimmer, bane of grimm; hail, Ruby Rose, bringer of light and caster out of darkness. Sunset Grimmbane and Ruby Lightbringer, Prince Rutherford names friends, and friends bear names proudly, forevermore!” Sunset glanced at Ruby. Sunset Grimmslayer, eh? Well, I’m not sure what Princess Celestia would say – she’d probably be mildly horrified – but, as someone who has lived in Remnant too long… I have to say, I think it sounds pretty cool. Probably not something I could use in Atlas or Vale, but in Mistral, they might take it seriously. Ruby did not look nearly as sure as Sunset did, but then, Rose was her mother’s name and meant a lot to her accordingly. If she would rather go by plain old Ruby Rose… well, it was hardly plain to her, was it? Sunset took the lead in answering, bowing to the prince. “You honour us, my prince.” Prince Rutherford shook his head. “Prince Rutherford cannot honour friend who does friends-self such honour. Twice now, Grimmslayer saved Frost Mountain Clan, and Frost Mountain Clan will not forget. Yona!” “Coming, Uncle Prince Rutherford,” Yona declared as she bounded into the room, nearly tripping over the hem of her skirt and having to be grabbed by Smolder to prevent it. Smolder smiled affectionately at her as she scooped up Prince Rutherford’s helmet off the floor – putting it on the chair that Ember had recently vacated – and shut the door. “Ruby! Sunset!” Yona cried. “Yona glad to see you again!” She was holding Zwei in her arms, and the dog barked happily, adding his pleasure to her own. Ruby grinned. “Ruby glad to see Yona too,” she said. “And you, Smolder.” “I’m glad that we’re all alive to see each other,” Smolder said. “They say you saved the whole town last night. Pretty awesome, if you ask me. Which one of you was it that made that bright light that lit up the whole sky?” “That would be Ruby,” Sunset said. “Woah,” Smolder gasped. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were that powerful?” Ruby laughed nervously. “It’s not that big of a deal, really.” “Many are alive today who would be dead without you,” Ember said. “That is… I cannot imagine a bigger deal.” Ruby’s cheeks began to heat up. “So, uh, where did Zwei come from?” Yona scratched Zwei behind the ears as she said, “Little dog came running to Yona in Frost Mountain camp.” She grinned. “Little dog like Yona best!” “No, he doesn’t!” Ruby yelled. “For the last time, you can’t take my dog!” “But Ruby and Sunset can take gifts!” Yona cried, putting Zwei down – he leapt up into Ruby’s arms and immediately began to lick her face – and removing the bundle that she had been wearing across her back. It rattled a little against the stone floor, and when she opened it, the bundle turned out to contain a pair of polished helmets, bound in steel and filigreed with gold, each one mounting a pair of impressive horns jutting out from the sides. Prince Rutherford used the horns to pick up the two helms. “Horns belonged to mountain yak hunted by Rutherford’s grandfather; yaks are strong and mighty beasts, and yak horns sit on helmets only of strong and mighty warriors.” He held out both the helmets to them. “Sunset and Ruby more than friends; Sunset and Ruby honorary members of Frost Mountain Clan; take helmets, so all may know.” Sunset gazed down at the helmet that he was offering her. She glanced momentarily at Ruby’s, which was topped by a horsehair crest as red as blood rising out of the top of the helmet, before returning to her own gift which was, in a word, stunning. The horns were magnificent, but more than that, the workmanship was exquisite, with a golden serpent – it looked almost draconic, reminding Sunset of the bones that she had seen in Mistral – forming a sort of crest, placed as it was down the very centre line of the helmet. Ornate images of war – soldiers mustering and marching and finally engaging in desperate battle, two shieldwalls locked together thrusting at one another – were debossed just above the rim of the helmet, while the two segmented cheek guards were decorated with ornate runes in a tongue that Sunset could not read; there was a mask too, a mask of iron to protect and hide her face in equal measure. Sunset guessed that, if she were to wear it, then even her eyes would be invisible to her foes. She was torn between a feeling that, if she were to put this on, then she would look incredible, like a warlord, and feeling that it would look ridiculously incongruous paired with her leather jacket and skinny jeans. Ruby’s helmet did not have a mask, only a thick guard for her nose and around her eyes, but it was likewise debossed; in her case, judging by what Sunset could see, the scenes that had been chosen to decorate her helmet were more pastoral in nature: hunting in the woods, gathering in the fields, marriage, the birth of a child, caring for a sickly elder. “Those helmets were originally fashioned by the Summer Fire Clan,” Ember declared. “Fashioned in the fires of Scintilla’s Forge, before the Outlanders’ War. They are amongst the finest work that our clan has ever – maybe will ever – make, and they were given to the Frost Mountain Clan as a token of our friendship. Whereupon they decide to ruin them by sticking horns on the side.” “Helmet without horns no helmet at all!” Prince Rutherford declared. Ember scoffed, but her serious demeanour returned. “The Summer Fire Clan doesn’t do… honourary member,” she said, “but take our work and remember that the Frost Mountain Clan isn’t the only one who owes you a debt or offers you friendship.” “We’re honoured, really,” Ruby murmured, as she tentatively reached out and took the helmet from Prince Rutherford’s unprotesting hand, “but you really don’t need to thank us like this. We only did… it’s true that Sunset and I have great powers, powers that few others have, but at the end of the day, we’re still just huntresses, and huntresses don’t save people for reward.” “That may be how it works in the kingdoms,” Ember replied, “but here, great service should be rewarded with great honour and the tokens of esteem.” “We understand,” Sunset said, taking her own helmet. She could feel the raised figures through her gloves as she ran her fingertips around the ornately adorned metal. “And we are very grateful.” “You’re getting these because we’re grateful,” Smolder insisted. “How can you be grateful for gratitude?” “Because I haven’t had very much of it, lately,” Sunset replied bluntly. Perhaps a little too bluntly, given the way that Ruby looked away in embarrassment. “Smolder, Yona, will you give us a moment?” Ember asked. “We have some important things to talk about.” “Ember’s plan not work,” Prince Rutherford muttered. “It’s our best shot,” Ember replied heatedly. “What is?” Ruby asked. Ember glanced at the two younger members of their respective clans. Only when they, like Cinder before her, had left the room did she speak. “It’s not a mystery,” she explained. “It’s just that the fewer interruptions we have, the better.” Sunset levitated her helmet gently down onto the bed. With her hands thus freed up, she could fold her arms. “So, we’re finally getting down to business?” Ember nodded. “Freeport is saved, thanks to the two of you,” she said, “but Freeport is also wounded. The Queen is dead, and even before she died, she proved herself unworthy of the power that she held and the trust that so many of us placed in her.” She paused for a moment. “Not everyone in Freeport knows that you killed the Sun Queen, but everyone knows that she did not lead the fight to defend Freeport against the grimm; the city is alive with rumours: some say she’s dead, others that she fled in terror when the grimm attacked, others still that she has been gone for some time already.” “The disadvantage of wearing a mask,” Sunset said. “Nobody could be sure that it was really her.” “Perhaps,” Ember conceded. “Amongst those who don’t believe that she is dead… I’ll be honest, the fact that she was willing to betray anyone to keep herself safe matters less than the fact that she didn’t lead the defence of Freeport last night. Freeport – this whole kingdom of Estmorland – was built upon the promise that the Sun Queen would bring order and security to lands that have known too little of either. Without that… many say good riddance to a queen who would not fight for her people in their hour of need.” “And I suppose some ask what, that being the case, is the point in Freeport and the Kingdom of Estmorland,” Sunset said. “You suppose right,” Ember said. “The Fall Forest Clan stole away from Freeport ere the dawn broke; the Ice River Clan is thinking of leaving as well. Laurel says that there have been desertions from the Rangers recruited from outlying settlements as the warriors return to their homes. Freeport wasn’t devoured by the grimm, but it’s going to fall apart regardless.” “Because of us,” Sunset murmured. “I didn’t say that,” Ember said. “You didn’t have to,” Sunset replied. “Freeport was held together by a queen upon a throne, and thanks to me, the queen is dead, and that throne is empty.” She smiled wryly. “This may sound selfish, but so far, the only good news I’ve heard is that nobody wants my head on a platter for what I did.” There was a slight shrug in Ember’s shoulders. “Like I said, nobody cares about a queen who didn’t fight for her people.” “They might think differently if they knew that the reason the Queen didn’t fight for her people was because I killed her,” Sunset pointed out. “And then you went out and you fought for Freeport,” Ember reminded her. “You are the Grimmbane, remember? The Rangers say that you held off every attack upon the lines except the last, which was destroyed by you, Ruby. It’s true that they don’t know that you struck down their Queen, but even if they knew that, they would also know that you are the one who saved them, saved their homes, saved their families. In the end, even if they knew everything, that would still count for more. And that is why I ask you, both of you, to save Freeport again.” “How?” Ruby asked. “What do you mean?” “As Sunset said, Freeport was the dream of the Sun Queen, held together by her will,” Ember said, “and now, the Queen is dead. Dawn’s dead too; died in her sleep, it seems. There are some,” – here Ember glanced at Prince Rutherford, who looked unfazed by the glare that she was shooting him – “who might think they wouldn’t mind if Freeport and Estmorland and all the Sun Queen’s dreams collapsed to nothing without her. But he would be wrong.” "Sun Queen's dreams all lies!" Prince Rutherford declared. "Sun Queen's whole reign built on lies: lies to Prince Rutherford, lies to Ember, lies to everyone!” "The peace she brought wasn’t a lie" Ruby declared. "Isn't it a good thing that she stopped you from fighting, stopped people from dying? I mean, sure, it sounds like it might have been better if she'd just pointed out to the both of you that you were being kind of stupid, but… I know that she tried to kill me, and take over Sunset's body, and a lot of other bad things too, but she was doing it all for-" "Careful, Ruby; you're about to argue that the ends justify the means," Sunset murmured, with just the slightest little touch of amusement in her voice. "I am not!" Ruby cried. "I'm just… I know that she shouldn't have done what she did, but what she did it for… just because she did wicked things to save Freeport doesn't mean Freeport doesn't deserve to be saved." "Freeport means nothing," Prince Rutherford insisted. "Freeport nothing but Sun Queen ruling over Frost Mountain Clan and changing ways of Frost Mountain Clan, and all clans too." "The ways of some clans sound like they needed changing," Sunset observed. "Maybe that's true, but does it have to be that way?" Ruby asked, ignoring Sunset and speaking to Prince Rutherford. "Can you really say that you've gotten nothing out of this? What about the peace? What about the friendship between the Frost Mountain Clan and the Summer Fire Clan? What about the fact that you don't have to worry about the Fall Forest Clan and their sacrifices? What about these?" she demanded, picking up Sunset's helmet in one hand and holding up her own in the other. "Something that was made by the Summer Fire Clan, and then made different by the Frost Mountain Clan, becoming something new." "Something worse," Ember said. "Something better," replied Prince Rutherford. "Something different," Ruby insisted. "Something that never would have happened without Freeport and the peace and friendship between you two. Look at Yona and Smoulder! Do you really want to walk away from that? Do you really want to let that die?" Ember smiled. "Don't talk to me about that; talk to him." "Prince Rutherford have no wish for struggle," Prince Rutherford said, "but Freeport was making of Sun Queen; now Queen gone and good riddance, so what is Freeport now?" "A place where you can work together to build a better future, for all the clans and everyone who lives in Estmorland," Ruby said. "Somewhere you can talk instead of fighting, somewhere you can shelter from the grimm, just like you did. Isn't it at least worth trying to hold that together?" "I agree, but I'm also curious," Sunset said. "Why are you telling all of this to us? Isn't this the sort of thing you should be hashing out amongst yourselves or with your fellow chiefs? Or even with Laurel and Cherry?" "The Queen's servants are discredited," Ember said. "They may not have agreed wholly with what she was doing, but they went along with it in the end; I can't trust them any more than we could trust her if she lived. No, if it is to survive, then Freeport requires fresh leadership, a queen that we can trust, a queen that people look up to, a queen that can command the love and respect of Freeport and the clans." She looked at Rutherford. "So, Rutherford, what say you now?" Rutherford said nothing, but he nodded his head. "Thank you," Ember said. "This will be worth it, I promise." She looked first Sunset, and then at Ruby. "Sunset Shimmer, Ruby Rose… we would like to offer you the crowns of Freeport." Sunset's jaw dropped. Ruby's silver eyes widened in shock. Of all the things that Sunset had expected to come out of Ember's mouth, that was definitely not one of them. The crown? A crown, at least, a crown for her and a crown for Ruby, but still… a crown? They offered to make her a queen? Would they let me change my title to Princess instead? If I were their diarch, I don't think they could stop me. Really? Really? This is what you're thinking about? Are you kidding me right now? Sunset laughed, unable to hold it in. The laughter gushed forth out of her mouth like lava flows pouring down the sides of an erupting volcano. The irony of it all was too, too tremendous not to laugh. How long had it been since this would have been all she wanted? Not too long. Even at Beacon, she would have given much for this, almost anything. If she had had any inkling that this opportunity existed, she probably would have done as her human counterpart did and set off here with the intent of carving out a realm for herself, dragging her friends… no. No, she could not claim to be so bold; she had always feared the grimm too much to indulge in such wild and wide-eyed fancies as venturing forth into the wilds with no safety net to guarantee her life; certainly, she would never have risked her friends that way; she was too cautious with them by far. But the fact remained: this had been her dream. A crown. A glorious crown. A band of gilded majesty. How it had haunted her dreams these many years. Of the symbols of royalty, she had desired a pair of wings more, but the crown – or diadem at least – had been a close second. Her mind had dwelt on sovereignty. She had gone to bed dreaming of the crown and awoken to plot and scheme anew how she might get the crown. Even as her relationship with Princess Celestia was destroyed by those ambitions, still Sunset clung to them, preferring to sacrifice the love of the wisest and most gentle princess in all the many worlds which existed or which might exist rather than yield up her dream of becoming a princess in her own right. In Remnant, she had held less hope of diadems or coronets, for this was a world which had cast down its monarchs and did not raise up new ones. Pyrrha was a princess by ancient blood right, but Sunset would never be elevated to be her equal. Her ambitions had lowered from crown to glory, from ascension via magic to ascension in the eyes and hearts of men who would acclaim her. Now she was offered… it was not magical ascent, true, but then she had already done that in a manner of speaking. She was an alicorn; now they would make her a queen. Except now, she had no need of it. Their offer came too late. Sunset wiped at her eye with one hand. "Forgive me," she said, "but if you knew me better, you would understand why I must laugh. Just as, if you knew me better, you would know that I must decline." "'Decline'?" Ember repeated. "You're saying no? After everything that I've explained to you, after making clear that Freeport needs this, needs you-" “Freeport needs leadership,” Sunset allowed. “I… I do not know that it needs a sovereign ruler.” That stuck in her craw to say, being who she was, having been raised as she had been; it felt like she was betraying Princess Celestia just to say it, but then, these people were not proposing to set a wise immortal upon the throne of Freeport; they were proposing to set Sunset Shimmer with all her flaws upon the highest seat, and that was, she supposed, a rather different proposition from the perspective of good governance. “What Sunset propose?” Prince Rutherford asked. “A Council, as the king- as the other kingdoms have,” Sunset suggested. “It could be as large or as small as you like; Vale and Mistral make do with only five members, but Atlas has seven.” “And who would sit upon this Council?” Ember demanded. “How would they be chosen? How would they get anything done?” Sunset spread out her arms. “If you wish me to write you a constitution before I take my leave of Freeport, I will do my utmost to oblige, but really, the answer to all these questions is that you may choose as you like; that’s the point: it is your kingdom now and your government.” “How councillors chosen in kingdoms?” Prince Rutherford asked. “We elect them,” Ruby answered. “Everyone, everyone over a certain age, gets to vote; they get to choose who sits on the Council and speaks for them.” “With some exceptions,” Sunset added. “And the method of voting varies from kingdom to kingdom, but Ruby’s right, that’s about the size of it.” “So it’s a popularity contest?” Ember asked incredulously. “That’s ridiculous!” Privately, Sunset was – at least somewhat – inclined to agree; witness the fate of Councillor Aris, who had taken credit for the shining of the sun and then been hurled out of office when the clouds began to gather and the cold set in. She had not changed; she had not lost any of the wisdom she had possessed when she was elected into office; the only thing that had changed had been the opinions of the fickle multitudes, but that had been sufficient to cast her from the heights of power into the dark depths of obscurity. None of which would do much to mollify Ember, and so Sunset said, in a rather calm voice, “It appears to have worked for eighty years in the kingdoms.” “Really?” Ember replied. “And no prize idiot has ever been chosen in any of your kingdoms simply because they were popular? No one has ever gotten themselves chosen by giving out treasure as though their hoard was bottomless?” Sunset and Ruby glanced uncomfortably. “Well,” Ruby said, “it doesn’t happen all the time.” “Probably no more often than a weak chief ascends to the lordship of their clan,” Sunset muttered, saying yet more words that did her moral violence to say, but which it seemed politic and even necessary to say if they were to escape without condemnation.” Ember shook her head. “It will not work here,” she said flatly. “For generations untold, we have followed our clan lords, who inherit their ranks or else attain them in contests of strength and wisdom. The Sun Queen, for all that she did and all that she was, understood that when she took the throne: we follow strength here. Your kingdoms may be so old that you can do without a king, but we are hardly a kingdom at all. You can’t just impose a new way on everyone and expect it to work.” As much as Sunset didn’t like it, Ember had made a good point. The kingdoms of Vale and Mistral had both been hundreds of years old when King and Emperor respectively had laid down their crowns; the people of those lands had thought of themselves as belonging to Vale and Mistral for so long that it would have been alien to have thought of themselves any other way. In just such a fashion, even if – heaven forfend – Princess Celestia had disappeared, sheer inertia would have prevented the pony tribes from drifting apart into their own nations as had existed before the first Hearth’s Warming. Generations untold, as Ember put it, had never known anything but Equestria and had no framework to imagine anything else. Here in Estmorland, it was different. The other Sunset had been in the process of making a nation out of nothing, and if the history of Remnant’s other kingdoms – the ones that had lasted and the ones that had not – taught anything, it was that fledgling realms of this sort either endured for a long span of years or else collapsed upon the death of the charismatic ruler who first called them into being. It looked as though the latter would be more Estmorland’s fate, unless a solution could be found. “Very well, you need a monarch, or a pair of diarchs,” Sunset conceded. It was undoubtedly the more sensible way to run a nation, after all. “Why does it have to be us?” "Because you're the ones who defeated the grimm!" Ember snapped. "Everyone in Freeport knows it, and everyone beyond will know it too once word starts to spread. Like Ruby said, part of Freeport – one of the most important parts of Freeport – was that it was a place where we could come to be safe, that the Queen's Rangers would protect us. The Queen broke that promise, and how are we supposed to just give the crown to just anybody and trust that they won't break the promise too? But you… you two kept that promise. You defended Freeport, you saved us all, you fought as queens should fight – and don't tell me that you fought as huntresses; you destroyed whole armies single handed, that is not the work of a warrior. That is the work of a hero, and in this land, we bow to heroes. You have the power to defend this land-" "And the strength to bend the other clans back to our will?" Sunset demanded. Ember was silent for a moment. "If necessary," she admitted. "The Sun Queen also wanted to make a weapon out of me," Sunset pointed out, her words growing claws. Ember flinched, even as she said, "I'm not asking you to destroy anyone I don't like; I'm asking you to fight for what's right." "And I will," Sunset said, "but not here." "Then what are we supposed to do?" Ember demanded. "You can't just walk into our land, smash everything up, and then swan off afterwards – and no, Rutherford, I don't want to hear it!" She snorted out of her nostrils. "Who do you think you are?" Sunset met her gaze evenly. "I am a good servant to my lord, who waits for me in dire need. I have sworn myself to a quest with a long road ahead from which I cannot turn away, not even for a throne. Not even… not even for a fire I helped to ignite." “But,” Ruby said, her voice soft and yet so loud that it commanded the attention of all in the room. “But that doesn’t mean that we don’t understand. You make a very good point, Ember. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble, but because of us… because we came here, your queen is dead, and so is my cousin, and… that is our responsibility, even if it’s not our fault. And so I…” – she glanced at Sunset, and held her gaze there for a moment, only to look away again a moment later – “I will take the throne of Freeport, if you think it will help.” “Ruby,” Sunset gasped. “I was willing to stay before, to help defend Freeport,” Ruby reminded her. “Why shouldn’t I be willing to do the same now?” “You had…” Sunset faltered; there was no good way to say that Ruby’s cousin had been alive then and was dead now. “I know,” Ruby replied, guessing her mind. “But I still have my grandfather, and with Sunsprite gone… he’ll be all alone, and it seems as cruel to do that to him as it does to just walk away from Freeport after all that we’ve done.” But I just got you back, Sunset thought; it was unworthy, and verged upon childish, but there it was. She did not say it, however; she did not even think it for very long. Choice was the most powerful magic of all, and Ruby was making hers. She was, as Pyrrha would have said, choosing her destiny. She would no longer be a wandering hero, Olivia-like, but she was nevertheless making a very Olivia-like choice, giving up her own happiness for the greater good of a nascent kingdom. I shouldn’t be moaning; I should be proud of her. I am proud of her. Nevertheless, as she placed a hand on Ruby’s shoulder, she asked, “Are you sure about this?” Because it never hurt to be sure. Ruby didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she said. “If Freeport wants me for its queen, then I will be its queen. But not like… not like the Sun Queen was.” She turned to Ember and Prince Rutherford. “I will be your ruler, but I’m not going to rule you. I won’t let you hurt others, or sacrifice people, or terrorise your neighbours, but other than that, I’m not going to set limits on what you can and can’t do. You’re going to do that yourselves, as my councillors.” Ember rolled her eyes. “This again, I told you-” “I know that you don’t want elections, and I’m not talking about that; I’m talking about getting all the clan chiefs and all the lords of the towns who want to be a part of Freeport together in a room where you can all talk about things. You can settle your disputes and organise your protection and make the laws that will bind everyone. You’ll all work to make Estmorland a kingdom you can share and be proud of.” “And what will Ruby do while clan lords do all work?” Prince Rutherford asked suspiciously. “I… I’ll make the final decision if you can’t agree on something,” Ruby said. “I’ll lead the Rangers to protect the land against the grimm, or any clan or bandits or anyone who's trying to cause trouble or threaten the peace. And I will fight against Salem, to make as sure as I can be that she and her evil will never trouble Freeport or Estmorland again.” “That seems more court than Council, but I suppose that’s mere semantics at this stage,” Sunset said. “As for the rest, I mean to help you with that last ambition. It is my aim to see Salem defeated once and for all… although I confess that I do not yet know how it is to be accomplished.” Ruby smiled at her. “You’ll figure it out.” Sunset blinked. “I’m sorry, I’ll figure it out?” “Yeah.” “I just told you I’m aiming to defeat the person Professor Ozpin told us couldn’t be beaten, and your response is that I’ll figure it out?” “If you don’t think you can do it, then why did you say it?” Ruby asked. “Because that’s what I do: I talk out my backside about what big plans I have.” “And then you come through,” Ruby pointed out. “I’ve got faith in you, Sunset. Which is why I’m going to appoint you as my roving ambassador to everywhere.” “'Ambassador to everywhere'?” Ruby nodded. “Your first mission for Freeport is to go to Atlas and Mistral and make alliances with them and get them to send us some help. Ooh, maybe you can get General Ironwood to help us build a CCT tower! Actually, that should probably be ‘build us a CCT tower,’ shouldn’t it?” “What’s this?” Ember asked. “I want to link us to the other kingdoms,” Ruby explained. “The Sun Queen thought that the best thing she could do was hide until she was strong enough to fight, but I think that we’re stronger together, and so I want to invite the other kingdoms to come here and help us.” “Last time kingdoms helped clans, kingdoms put clanfolk in chains,” Prince Rutherford muttered darkly. “He’s right,” Ember agreed. “One kingdom enslaved our people, the other pressed us into their ranks to fight their Outlanders’ War.” “That was a long time ago,” Sunset said. “The world has changed since then.” “That’s right,” Ruby agreed. “The kingdoms are different places now. Atlas and Mistral are not the same kingdoms that enslaved the faunus so long. We have friends in both kingdoms, brave and honourable friends, and some of those friends know important people in their lands. They can help Sunset get a good deal for us.” “I agree with your approach, but are you sure about your choice of ambassador?” Sunset asked. “I’m still a…” She trailed off, not really wanting to reveal to Ember and Prince Rutherford that she might still be considered a criminal in Atlas and Mistral. “Are you sure you don’t want to make Cardin your ambassador?” “Cardin will be going with you, so he can help you out,” Ruby said. “But you’re the one I trust, and let’s face it, you couldn’t be a part of any group without making yourself in charge of it.” Sunset let out a guffaw of laughter. “Okay, that’s a fair point.” “If I can settle everything here, then I’ll come and see you in Mistral,” Ruby said. “Not because I don’t trust you, but because-” “Because a queen’s visit will carry more weight than an ambassador of my providence; don’t worry, I understand,” Sunset said. Atlas was one thing – with Blake and Rainbow Dash’s help, she ought to be able to get a word in edgeways with General Ironwood – but with Mistral… who knew what Pyrrha’s status was? She wasn’t exactly the sort to court power or status. Knowing Pyrrha, she was probably enrolled in Haven by now, trying to keep her head down as a perfectly ordinary student. “And also,” Ruby said, “because I don’t want this to be goodbye, not forever.” “No,” Sunset agreed. “No, it won’t be.” If Ruby didn’t make it to Mistral, then she could always come back to Freeport. It was not goodbye. But it was… it was an ending, even if only of a sort. Ruby Rose was no longer her partner. Ruby… Ruby was a queen. Ember knelt. “Hail, Ruby Queen,” she said. “Long may you reign.” “Hail, Ruby Queen,” Sunset echoed. “Long may you reign.”