“So this is it?”
A distant hum and a flap of the ears.
“I see.” A pair of eyes in the dark glistened. “But that means now we’re… gone.”
A nod. “Yes, at least temporarily.”
Silence.
“Moondancer?”
Another hum.
“How temporary is temporary exactly?”
“That depends.” A quick humming beat. “Should I adjust for the effects of time dilation?”
A grumble. “I don’t want to know, do I?”
“That is entirely your decision.”
Teeth sunk into a lip. “Alright, let’s hear it.”
“For us, we’re gone a month.”
“And for them?”
Moondancer sighed.
“Twilight?” Sunset called out, voice echoing in the night. “Twilight Sparkle?” No reply.
She twisted her head around her neck mechanically and mumbled to herself. “Think, Sunset. If I were Twilight, where would I be?” A sly smirk. “In Sunset’s arms, ideally.” The smirk quickly faded to horror. “But ponies don’t just disappear without a trace. Except for this weekend, apparently.”
A deep inhale, a deep exhale.
“Okay. There was a flash when she left, so magic of some kind was likely involved.” She stuck her tongue out of her mouth and up towards her nose, failing to make contact. “Mm. Even a simple teleportation spell would explain the disappearance, but why would she teleport in the middle of a conversation? Unless she wasn’t the one controlling the teleport.”
Pause. “Is forcibly teleporting somepony else even possible? I guess I didn’t need to do anything when Twilight teleported me back to the castle last night, so chalking that up to a firm maybe? I really wish I paid more attention in my magic theory classes.” She ran her hoof through her mane, tugging hard at the ends and ripping out a loose strand. “Twilight can probably defend against something like that, but if Starlight’s involved and defected to disharmony…”
Sunset grimaced. “No, spinning in circles isn’t going to solve anything, even if it seems to help the Twilights.” She rolled her eyes and added on nasally, “Same goes for talking to myself, for that matter.”
Glancing around the environment, Sunset took a breath and galloped out of the cemetery and towards the castle. As she approached, she was greeted by two blank faces of nightwing guards.
“Halt.” The guard on the left commanded, firming their grasp on their weapon.
Sunset obliged. “I’m sorry. I need to deliver a message to Guardian Angel. It’s urgent.”
“State your purpose,” the guard on the right said.
Sunset facehoofed. “Princess Twilight Sparkle is missing.”
The blank expressions flickered for a moment of horror. As the guard to the right retreated immediately into the castle at the news, the other barked, “Please identify yourself, ma’am.”
She opened her saddle bag with her magic and produced an identification card bearing her likeness. “Sunset Shimmer. I am an Equestrian citizen. I have authorization to enter the castle as the lead of the BIPED Project.” Below her voice, she grumbled, “A fact which is probably above your pay grade.” She inhaled sharply and emptied the contents of her saddle bag into the air in her telekinetic grasp, finally picking out a folded paper bearing a royal seal. “Authorization signed by the princess herself.”
The guard took the paper in his hoof and held it up against the light. Never mind that the nation was in a crisis with its leader missing, the guard held the authorization and the fate of the one pony with information on the matter in their hooves.
Guarding the castle sounds like an important job, but in peace time, it’s the realm of simple bureaucrats with threatening glares and big sticks.
After an eternity unaided by time dilation, the guard opened the door. “Proceed.”
Sunset creased her lips and said, “Thank you.” She returned her items into her saddlebag, released her magic, and entered the building.
A building which was always so tiny with the princess by her side.
A building large enough to imprison all of Equestria that night.
Sunset paced around inside nervously, finding herself lost in a building she once knew so well, her thoughts clouding her better judgement. With or without luck on her side, upon turning a corner she found herself surrounded on all sides by guards who seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
Front and center was Guardian Angel, looking distraught for the first time since Sunset met her. “Sunset Shimmer.”
Sunset clenched her teeth, sped up her breathing and squeaked out, “Guardian Angel. Just the pony I was looking for.”
Unamused, Angel responded, “What a coincidence, because I just dispatched guards to find you. I am told the princess disappeared on your watch?”
Sunset’s ears fell back. “That’s right.”
“And you had nothing to do with this?”
Sunset shuddered. “No.”
Angel glanced at the eyes of one of the guards standing behind Sunset. “Alright. We’ll see about that.”
A bit lip. “You aren’t going to cast that integrity spell on me, are you? I authorized Twilight, not you.”
“Hmm, that depends.” Angel replied coolly. “Are you hiding anything?”
She raised her eyes to meet Angel’s directly. “No.”
“Good.” A curt nod. “Shield, Knight, escort her to the privacy room.”
“Privacy?”
Angel’s lips quivered in the shape of a small smile, immediately replaced by her usual scowl. “You and I are going to have a little chat. And should you so much as imply you hurt the princess” – she narrowed her eyes, forcing Sunset to look away – “there will be consequences.”
Without missing a beat, Sunset followed a pair of guards, departing from Angel’s side and trotting down a castle hallway. As she sped up, they slowed, until their paces synchronized with one guard on either side of Sunset. Not a soul said a word on the journey through the massive castle, down one hallway, turning down a next, until finally the guards stopped in front of a small door in an unassuming corner of the castle. He reached a hoof under his breast plate to produce a small concealed key, which he fit with his mouth into the matching lock on the door handle, turning it and pushing to reveal a small room.
True to its name, the Privacy Room was a quiet, dark space with a single ceiling light overhead, an empty table in the center, and a pair of vacant chairs on either side. Three walls were painted a cool black, blank except for the door. The fourth wall too was black but with a dim mirror in the center.
The guard who opened the door entered first. Sunset followed him in, and the other guard entered third, closing the door behind them. The latter guard gestured Sunset towards the seat opposite the wall with the mirror, and Sunset obeyed, sitting in the chair. As she sat, the two guards stood on either side.
Alone with her thoughts and two silent armour-clad ponies, Sunset allowed herself to sigh, an internal whirlwind manifesting as nothing more than a frown and a grimace obscured by the low-key lighting. A room for privacy, indeed, although Sunset was well-aware of the euphemism’s implication. She had experience on both sides of these rooms.
Her impressions were interrupted by the door swinging open, revealing Guardian Angel, front and center, her characteristic smirk replaced by strained blank lips. She entered and closed it behind her. “Good afternoon, Sunset Shimmer.”
“Afternoon,” Sunset mumbled in reply. She straightened herself out, and in a show of chutzpah, she caught Angel’s eyes, coldly asking, “Am I under arrest? And if so, Equestrian law entitles me to know for what.”
Angel frowned. “I don’t arrest innocent ponies.”
“You don’t now?” Sunset flared her nostrils.
Ignoring the comment, she added, “So that’s a no, unless you give me a reason to, in which case you’ll know exactly for what. But contrary to what you seem to think, this meeting isn’t about you.” She scowled with contempt and mumbled, “Not everything is.”
Sunset pursed her lips. “I see.”
Angel sat down across her. “We’ll be reviewing the facts around Princess Twilight Sparkle’s disappearance. All I ask of you is your complete honesty. Understand?”
Sunset slouched in her chair. “Yes.”
“Good,” Angel said. “Our records indicate that you accompanied Princess Twilight Sparkle as she departed the premises of the Royal Thaumaturgic Surveillance Service this morning. Do you dispute this?”
“No.”
“The records also claim you were there on business as the case’s ‘advisor on extra-dimensional affairs’.” Angel raised an eyebrow.
As the statement lacked a question, Sunset didn’t reply, and Angel didn’t push.
“The princess was expected to return to the castle after concluding the visit to the RTSS facility. Castle records show she never returned that afternoon. Indeed, her whereabouts are unknown until you report her as missing three hours later. Suspicious, isn’t that?” Angel stared. “I’m going to guess they are not unknown to you.”
“Twilight was with me,” Sunset admitted.
“Yes.” Angel nodded, looking a little bored with the conversation, if Sunset’s perceptions were accurate. “I need you to tell me everything that happened after departing the RTSS.”
“Are my statements being recorded on the other side of that mirror?”
Angel did not respond, only intensifying a look that Sunset was now certain to be boredom.
“Right.” Sunset sighed. “While we were at the RTSS, Twilight confided in me – as a friend – that the case has been affecting her emotionally, and I recognized that the levels of stress she has been under this weekend have been unsustainable. I suggested we take a walk outside to help relax. We chatted a bit, but I could tell she was still stressed, and she had a shutd– a very emotional moment. Then there was a flash of light, and she was gone, so I walked to the castle to page you immediately.”
“I see.” Angel blinked. “Where did you walk? You must have been close to the castle, or else it would have been downright irresponsible to walk all the way here before seeking help.”
Sunset grumbled at the leading question. “We were on castle grounds.”
“Really, now?” Angel raised a domineering eyebrow, and Sunset flinched. “Because none of the castle staff have reported seeing the princess. We paged everyone on premises just a few minutes after you reported the disappearance.”
She groaned as her ears flopped back. “We were at the cemetery.”
Angel snorted, covering her mouth with her hoof. “You took the princess to the royal cemetery? My, my, that seems a bit ominous, don’t you think?”
Sunset gritted her teeth. “I’m regretting that decision already.”
A shrug. “Was the groundskeeper present in the cemetery at the time?”
“No, I don’t believe so.”
Angel nodded. “That will be verified, Sunset Shimmer.” She smacked her lips. “Do you have any idea why Princess Twilight disappeared?”
Sunset hesitated. Slowly she replied, “I am not certain. I am as worried as you are on the matter.”
“Perhaps.” Angel’s sharp gaze cut though Sunset’s evasion. “What exactly did you discuss in the cemetery?”
“Twilight’s emotional state,” she said, “as well as our friendship.”
“Discussing friendship with the Princess of Friendship. What a creative alibi.” Angel frowned too excessively to be genuine. “Gee, I was under the impression your friendship was a lot friendlier than your post would require of you.” As Sunset opened her mouth, Angel continued. “No need to get defensive. But if you’re playing your relationship down, I’m curious what else you’re playing down, hmm?”
Sunset cursed in her head, though her face was unwavering. “I was trying to respect Twilight’s privacy about her emotions. Respecting your friends’ privacy is the loyal thing to do.”
“I am well aware of the catch phrases the School of Friendship tells our foals in ordinary times,” Angel quipped. “These are not ordinary times.”
“No, they are not,” Sunset conceded, slumping in her chair. “As you should know by now, Twilight has been feeling overwhelmed by her personal connections to the case, given the links with Moondancer and Starlight Glimmer. She is as committed as you to ensuring the law is upheld.”
Angel rubbed her hooves against her temples, and muttered to herself, “This was useless from the start.” She broke eye contact with Sunset to instead gaze at the guards in the corners and barked, “Guards are dismissed. This questioning is over. Thank you for your time.”
The guards nodded curtly, opening the door and filing out. As the latter guard left, Sunset stood up from her seat and turned towards the door when Angel sneered, “I said guards were dismissed, Shimmer.”
Sunset flushed, sitting back down. “Oh, I thought– at least, I assumed– why would you– of course.”
“Gee, someone’s uncomfortable.”
Sunset squinted. “Did you need your investigative skills to deduce that one, o wise Guardian?” She glanced towards the mirror and winced. “Sorry.”
Angel swatted her hoof. “Nopony is observing you anymore. You’re not being recorded.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s your problem, not mine.” Angel shrugged. “But I assure you we are quite alone, so I will ask you again.” She leaned forward, forcing Sunset to lean back in her chair, teeth clenched. “What happened to Twilight?”
“Magic. As I already told you, she disappeared in a flash of light. That indicates a side effect of magic, probably a teleportation spell.”
“Uh-huh.” Angel rolled her head about her neck. “Why might your little crush feel the need to teleport to be anywhere else but at her lover’s side?”
“We’re not lovers.”
“That’s not what it says on the file,” she squeaked.
“You have a file about my love life?”
Angel snorted. “Of course not. Let’s not be arrogant here. As long as you’re off in Apequestria, you are far too insignificant to keep tabs on.” Sunset rolled her eyes at the berating. “We do, however, monitor the princess’s associates in order to prepare for the possibility of internal subterfuge, social engineering, and straight-up betrayal.”
Sunset recoiled. “I can’t imagine Twilight is pleased you’re stalking her.”
“Surveilling her, not stalking.” Angel corrected in a bland monotone. “There’s a difference, Shimmer. She specifically authorized me to lead the effort.”
“Lies.” Sunset spat without separating her teeth.
“Gee, poor little Angel lying to the big bully Sunset Shimmer?” She cast her hoof against her forehead and tilted her head back. “I would never.”
“Fine. Humour me, why would Twilight ask you to do that?”
“I’m not the one being questioned right now, Sunny.” Angel shook her head. “But any friend of the princess is a friend of mine, and honesty is the best policy.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Now look who’s quoting the Code of Friendship?”
“I learned from the best.” Angel smiled sweetly, with only a hint of veiled malice poking through. “She authorized the Guard to monitor her associates after my successful persuasion, in the aftermath of an incident with a foreign dignitary a few years ago.”
“Great.” Sunset groaned. “You admit that you’re behind this.”
“That’s a mighty strong accusation coming from a pony who took the Princess of Equestria to a cemetery for her to disappear before her very eyes.”
Sunset chose not to respond.
“But if you must know the truth, Princess Twilight is far too trusting. She strives for integrity with every creature she knows. She spends sleepless nights ruminating on her own guilt on any day she comes up short of perfect honesty, loyalty, generosity, kindness, and laughter.” Angel tightened her throat, grimacing as she recited the list of virtues. “Blech.”
Sunset shook her head. “You say that like it’s such a bad thing. Aren’t those the qualities we look for in a leader?”
“Ostensibly.” Angel shrugged with her wings. “In practice, honesty is a little inclination to divulge national secrets to those who plead a case to know. Loyalty is overlooking the obvious signs of betrayal from those who once cared for you. Generosity is the tendency to overspend and undertax, in the interest of a more equitable Equestria. Kindness is leniency of punishment, allowing the worst criminals to walk free among the innocent and reoffend. Laughter is being too distracted by the ‘party’ in ‘formal dinner party’ to negotiate with the cunning.”
Sunset bowed her head, solemn but silent.
“Face it.” Angel huffed. “Twilight’s virtues are her vulnerabilities. Her quest for personal perfection served her well when ‘Princess’ was just an honorific under Celestia’s tutelage, but now they’re the five fatal flaws in Equestria’s prime target for manipulation.”
Sunset whispered, “Someone had to protect her from her own love.”
“Yup. And who better than her little angel?”
Sunset shook her head. “This is twisted.”
“Ha!” Angel snorted. “You have no idea what twisted looks like among Twilight Sparkle’s creations. You don’t really think I was appointed because I’m so good at tracking down criminals?” She flipped her mane. “Not that I’m not fantastic, but–”
“You needed Twilight’s own help with the Library, and she needed mine. Whatever you’re pretending to be – a police force? an intelligence agency? a paramilitary? – you’re clearly incompetent at it.” Sunset cut in. “Make your point.”
“Right.” Angel muttered coldly. “Under Twilight’s rule, the Magic of Friendship is Equestria’s primary line of defense, not the Royal Guard.”
Sunset scoffed. “The Guard’s mandate begs to differ, doesn’t it?”
“The Guard’s mandate is to act as an arm of the Crown. True, under Princess Celestia, the Guard was an underqualified hack of an army. Don’t expect that to carry over to her shadow’s rule.”
“Uh-huh,” Sunset said. “What’s your actual job, then?”
Angel’s eyes pierced Sunset’s. “I protect the Crown from internal threats. Threats like her own inner demons. Like the Canterlot nobility. Like you.”
Sunset groaned, eliciting a snicker from Angel as she continued, “It’s what I’m good for. Let’s just say everything you think you know about cutie marks is wrong. Twilight could change my destiny, make me useful to Equestria, but she couldn’t change my talent.”
“Your talent?”
“Manipulation,” Angel replied coolly. “It takes one to know one, Shimmer.”
Sunset recoiled. “The hell are you talking about?”
Angel brushed her hoof under eye, as if wiping away an invisible tear. “Aww, poor little Sunny Buns without her little fillyfriend to kiss it better.”
“What’s your problem, Guardian Angel?” Sunset banged her front hooves against the table.
Angel frowned, a bit too wide and with eyes a bit too dull to be genuine, but with hurt creasing her eyebrows. “I must say, I am surprised. Did your dear little friend Twilight Sparkle never told you the story of the innocent filly she mutilated?”
Sunset’s anger dropped and she swallowed heavily. “The innocent filly?”
“Fair enough.” Angel shrugged. “Innocence in the eyes of the beholder.”
“I still have no idea what you’re on about.”
Angel gaped. “Twilight really didn’t tell you. That works out well enough for me to break the ice to you.” She nodded, satisfied with herself. “Have you heard of Cozy Glow?”
“Sure. One of her former students who attacked Equestria, broke out of Tartarus, and instead of reforming, attacked Equestria again?”
“Gee, that’s not a very kind way to describe somepony.”
“Right.” Sunset replied nasally. “And how would you describe her?”
“A misguided little pegasus filly.”
Sunset leaned in. “Not buying it. I was as misguided as they came, and I didn’t end up destroying Equestria and getting sent to Tartarus.”
“Ugh.” Angel clenched her teeth, allowing a moment of silence before sourly saying, “Your princess went easy on you.”
Angel and Sunset met eyes, Sunset’s astounded and Angel’s those of a mourner reminded of her grief. A heavy understanding set upon Sunset’s shoulders as she whispered, “But yours did not.”
Angel only kept her gaze fixed in reply. No tears were shed, no words were spoken, but something was shared.
It was Sunset who finally asked, “Are you Cozy Glow?”
Guardian Angel did not answer at first. Finally she looked down, breaking their eye contact, and said, “No.” Sunset opened her mouth to respond, but before getting a word out, Angel continued, “I am not Cozy Glow. But I was.”
Sunset wrinkled her brow. “Did Twilight… reform you?”
“She did try.” Angel sighed. “Every so often, she would try and fail. So no, Twilight never reformed Cozy Glow.” Her eyes flashed. “She just created me.” She paused, finally asking, “Do you know what cutie mark Cozy Glow had?”
“Something about chess, I thought.” Sunset bit her lip. “I remember the newspaper speculating she played Equestria like a game of chess.”
Angel shrugged, neither defensive nor remorseful at the characterization of a life prior. “Have you noticed my cutie mark now?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t spend time staring at the flanks of mares I have just met.” She coughed. “Usually.”
“My cutie mark is a halo. Fitting for an angel, don’t you think?”
Sunset frowned. “Starlight Glimmer’s spell to change cutie marks? Or Starswirl’s last incantation? Cast some powerful spells, dye your mane, and give you a new identity?” She tilted her head in confusion. “That doesn’t solve the reformation issue.”
Angel shook her head. “You’re right about dying my mane. It’s remarkable how little it takes for a pony to forget a face. You’re wrong about the cutie mark, though. That was not Twilight’s goal, though perhaps a welcome side effect for blending in as a new pony.”
Sunset’s mouth hung open. “I don’t understand.”
“Nopony ever does,” Angel huffed. “Not that I bother explaining anymore.” She glanced at the table, and outstretched her hoof towards Sunset. “Then again, why should I waste my breath trying to explain it to you when you can just do your creepy mind reading trick?” Before Sunset could protest, she glanced at the gem hung around Sunset’s neck and added, “Don’t think I don’t know about your geode. Go on, don’t be shy now.”
Sunset hesitated.
“What, you’re uncomfortable touching a mare?” Angel stuck her tongue out in contempt. “That would explain some of the anomalies in your history with Twilight.”
Sunset gagged, stretching out to meet Angel’s hoof with her own, and entered a memory.
The cold, dark monochromes of a world in stone lifted as the outside assaulted Cozy Glow’s senses. She regained control of her eyes first, then the rest of her head, then her hooves, and finally her wings, freeing her into the air.
With her newfound freedom, she made the split second decision to flee, flying off before she could be reprimanded. She served her time, she reasoned.
She accrued less than a meter of flight before she found herself frozen again, this time by a purple bubble surrounding her and freezing her body. Against her will, she was being levitated and brought back down to the ground, where she was surrounded on all the sides by members of the Royal Guard, one of whom affixed restraints to each of her legs and to her wings.
She conjured up the cockiest grin she could and said, “Golly, Princess Twilight, how’ve you been? It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages.”
“Cozy Glow.” Twilight’s gaze pierced into the filly, her face stiff but not entirely cold.
“Yes, Princess?”
“I am hopeful you know why I am here.”
Cozy flipped her mane innocently. “To make me a free pony. Thanks, Princess. I knew you always had it in you to forgive and to forget.” She looked pathetically at her restraints. “Though you sure have a funny way of showing it.”
“I have come to offer you my hoof in friendship, should you be interested in pursuing the ways of Harmony as a reformed pony, bringing your talents to the service of Equestria and the creatures around you. I am hopeful that in the time you have spent alone reflecting on your deeds, you have come to see the error of yours ways.”
“I did, as a matter of fact.” Cozy grinned, and Twilight sucked in her breath, a trace of a smile forming. “I realized I should never had teamed up with Tirek or Chrysalis. Those two spoil sports are the reason I got caught and petrified. If it weren’t for Tirek, I would never have landed in Tartarus to begin, and I’d be ruling Equestria by now.”
Twilight let go of her breath, kicking the ground dejectedly. “I see. I am willing to teach you everything I know about friendship, to offer you clemency, to give you a second or third chance.”
Cozy stuck her tongue out. Possibly she would have made a far grander gesture, if not for the restraints. “I don’t need your teachings about friendship, but that’s a yes, please! on the clemency.”
Twilight shook her head. “To protect our fellow ponies, I am not able to free you until you come to understand Harmony.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Cozy attempted to move her hoof as if to swat the air but was caught by the restraint. “And if I don’t want to waste time on your little friendship mission?”
Twilight sighed. “Then the Royal Guard will have no choice but to imprison you once again.”
Cozy stared into Twilight’s eyes nastily. Squinting until her own eyes were slits, she hissed, “I would rather spend years trapped in stone than spend one more minute listening to you talk about friendship.”
Twilight swallowed. “I am giving you this choice, Cozy.”
“Then send me back.” Cozy sneered. “I dare you.”
The princess hesitated, breathing deeply, and for a moment even Cozy began to grin. That grin was soon wiped away, however, as Twilight turned to the Guards surrounding Cozy and nodded slowly. “Transfer her to Tartarus.”
The last thing Cozy saw before her world go dark was a single tear on Twilight’s cheek.
The gates of Tartarus opened for the first time since Cozy was re-imprisoned. In walked Princess Twilight Sparkle, surrounded by an infestation of armoured critters with shields. Cozy stood up a little in her cage, if only to put on a good appearance for her very first visitor.
It isn’t like she had any living family to visit her.
The princess approached, and filling the atmosphere with acute déjà vu, announced her presence. “Cozy Glow.”
“Well, hi there, Princess Twilight!” Cozy flashed her most innocent smile. “Fancy seeing you here. What brings you to my little home? Ooo, did you bring any biscuits for my dog?” At Twilight’s lack of reaction, Cozy clarified, “His name’s Cerberus. Don’t get too close though, he’s not nice to strangers.”
Twilight ignored her welcome and stole the conversation. “The last time we spoke, I offered you freedom and friendship, and you chose to continue a life of disharmony and solitude.”
“Gee, that isn’t how I remember it.” Cozy tapped her hoof against her head. “I seem to remember you arresting me only seconds after I was released from my stone prison. To think I was so well-behaved for all that time, and that didn’t stop you from blackmailing me into accepting your friendship propaganda as a condition of my freedom.” She frowned as wide as she could, sounding out a harumph. “That doesn’t sound very friendly or harmonious now, does it?”
The princess mirrored her frown, and as far as Cozy could see, the reaction was genuine. “No. You’re right. I was wrong.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Cozy Glow. I failed you.”
Cozy gasped and brought her hoof to her chest. “You know, Princess Twilight, I think I could come to learn enough about friendship to accept that apology, if you just did one itsy-bitsy favour for me first.” She gestured her legs around the bars of her cage.
“Indeed.” The princess nodded, and the guard closest to the cell approached and with an enchanted key, released her. Cozy flew up into the air and circled around the Tartarus in a victory lap. “I did it, I beat Twilight Sparkle, I’m free, take that fools. Yeah!”
Twilight Sparkle from a few meters away did not look amused when Cozy glanced back down at her.
Cozy landed gracefully on the ground in front of the princess and coughed. “Sorry. I’ve waited a long time to say that. It isn’t like I spent all that time in solitary confinement brewing a plan to usurp the throne or anything. Just kidding!” She laughed hollowly, averting eye contact.
Twilight closed her eyes, suppressing any sounds that might have come out in other circumstances. “Of course not,” she replied a tad forcefully. She cleared her throat. “I will be personally attending to your reintegration into Equestrian society. I have already arranged a home for you in Ponyville.”
Cozy’s grin warped into a smirk. She had won. The princess was allowing her free rein over Equestria.
Idiot, she thought.
As she was escorted out of Tartarus into freedom, carrying neither physical nor magical restraints, her smirk only grew.
The world would be hers.
A few days later, Cozy Glow found herself in the streets, face to face with the princess and her army of overpaid brutes once again.
“Back so soon?” she shouted out, struggling to make herself heard over the blazing sirens around her. Luckily there was not another soul downtown to talk over, only Cozy Glow, royalty, and the awful sound in the air.
The princess merely blinked, ears twitching quickly with the pulsating noise.
“Oh! I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing all the way out in Vanhoover, when you arranged a home in Ponyville.” Cozy pouted, looking around the deserted street in the city’s downtown core. “I was busy trying to make friends with all these nice ponies, just like you would have wanted. Aren’t I a quick study?”
“Uh-huh.” Twilight tapped her hoof against the ground steadily. “I’m wondering how many friends you could have made in an area where you’re all alone.”
Cozy shot her hooves into the air. “I was asking myself the same question. I wonder where all the ponies – all those potential friends – could have gone.” She gasped. “It would be a real tragedy if anything happened to such a big city. Golly, is it even safe for me to be here? I hope nothing tragic happened to the municipality of Vanhoover that you forgot to warn me about, during all that time when you imprisoned me.”
Twilight raised both of her eyebrows simultaneously. “Ordinarily, I would say no, but this morning, downtown Vanhoover was indeed evacuated due to reports of a gas leak. This ‘leak’ endangers anypony downtown, and though the evacuation has cost the city dearly, it had to be done for safety.”
“Oh no.” Cozy pressed her hoof against her chest. “We should get you away from here, Princess, it isn’t safe for you. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to the beloved Princess of Friendship on my watch.”
“Under other circumstances, I would agree,” she nodded. “However, you were noted missing from Ponyville last night, taking yesterday’s evening express train through Canterlot and into Vanhoover. So you arrived here before the leak was reported, and so you must have been here when the neighborhood was evacuated.” She gritted her teeth. “The blaring sirens would be your other indication that something was amiss here.”
Cozy gasped. “You were following me? That isn’t very friendly of you. Must I remind you that respecting your friend’s privacy is the loyal thing to do?”
Twilight breathed. “Vanhoover police have direct evidence that you impersonated a utility worker, falsified information about a leak that never happened, and single-hoofedly orchestrated the most expensive evacuation the city has seen in years, all before eight in the morning.”
“Pretty impressive, right?” Cozy grinned. “You have to admit, it takes talent to mobilize so many ponies in such a short period of time. Not to mention the discrimination against such an innocent little filly just trying to make do in the world.”
Twilight shook her head, distraught. “I wish I could say I was surprised at your subversive abilities–”
“Thank you, Miss Twilight.” She flashed a grin.
Twilight continued, “I am certain somepony of your intellect understands there are consequences for your actions. What I don’t understand is why go to the trouble? This stunt of yours does not achieve any of your goals; mayhem is not part of your plan for world domination.”
For a moment, Cozy Glow wished to bluff, to scream that this was part of the plan all along, that this diversion was a ploy to distract Twilight and lure her away from the Elements of Harmony in time for Cozy’s accomplices to seize them.
Her emotions overtook her, and she instead screamed the truth. “Because it’s funny! All these snooty ponies thought that they would be busy staring at stock tickers all morning, and now they get to stare at each other cramped up in little shelters in suburban Richmane. The suckers had it coming.”
Twilight sighed. “I was afraid it might be something like that. What’s your goal, Cozy? What do you really want out of life?” Before Cozy had a chance to gloat, Twilight preempted her response. “I know it isn’t really world domination, or else you wouldn’t have blown your chance at freedom on something so banal. I want to help you, Cozy.” She clicked her hoof against the ground. “Please, let me help you.”
“Ha.” Cozy sneered, “The fact that you’ve released me and are too spineless and in love with Harmony to follow up on that threat of punishment is helping enough, Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight closed her eyes, encumbered by a deep malady, and breathed out troubles of a magnitude fitting only for an alicorn. “I’m afraid that isn’t so.” She waved her hoof slowly, and Cozy was once more surrounded by guards, en route back to Tartarus, running out of her three-day free trial of freedom after voiding her warranty.
Cozy did not dare look at Twilight as she was carried away.
“There’s really no way out, then.” Cozy looked up at the princess from her cell a few weeks later, muzzle tilted downwards in contemplation. “Nothing I say or do will convince you to let me go free.”
Twilight bit her lip. “That isn’t true. As soon as you learn to accept friendship on your own terms–”
“You and I both know that isn’t going to happen, Princess.” Cozy sneered. “Everypony knows that. Face it, I’m irredeemable.”
Twilight creased her brow. Softly she spoke, “That isn’t true, Cozy.” She beat her hoof. “Everypony can be redeemed. Look at Princess Luna. Look at Discord.”
Cozy rolled her eyes with force only a teenage girl could muster. “Luna had every reason to be peeved after what goodie two-shoes Celestia did to her. Discord spent so long displaced in space-time and lonely that he had no context to understand the notion of friendship until his fiancée Professor Perfect waltzed along.” Twilight’s ears flopped back, but she said nothing, allowing Cozy to continue. “You keep trying to teach me friendship, but I assure you, I understand friendship. I know what it means to have another pony wrapped around your hoof.” Twilight flinched. “That’s what make me special, after all.”
Twilight did not respond at first, choosing only to tap her hoof against the ground rhythmically. At last, she asked in earnest, “If you understand friendship, why do you keep going out of your way to harm ponies?”
Cozy snorted. “Because I can. I’m good at it. Don’t you know I’m made to be queen? My special talent is playing ponies like they’re my pawns.” She chuckled at Twilight’s horrified expression. “And like I said, it’s funny.”
Twilight shook her head, back and forth, swaying with a breeze nopony else could feel. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted.
“I do.” Cozy smirked, and Twilight looked up, eyes heavy. “Don’t you think it’s obvious? You’ll never let me go, since I can’t ever be the well-adjusted good girl you want me to be.” She stuck out her tongue. “You think I’m a devil, and you’re probably right.” She pouted, with a frown too big for sincerity. “You know, you could always make me an angel instead.”
Twilight squinted. “I’m listening.”
“You’re the most magically talented pony in Equestria, right?”
“Among them,” she said, adding through gritted teeth, “Though I don’t like to brag.”
“Aww, don’t be humble.” Cozy swatted her hoof. “All I’m saying is I’m sure you know a spell to make me into a new pony. You know, a pony capable of making friends? A pony who can be released from this awful place?”
Twilight hesitated. “Are you suggesting I cast a reformation spell on you?”
Cozy shrugged. “Are you asking me about magic theory? I only know what Tirek told me. It’s not like there’s much I can do with that information.”
“Right.” Twilight pursed her lips and moved her mouth from side-to-side, eyes glazed over as thoughts streamed out as incomprehensible mutterings. She clicked her tongue with finality. “Unfortunately, I don’t think a reformation spell would help.”
“Oh.” Cozy deflated.
“Reformation spells eliminate the evil dwelling within a pony, but they won’t force a pony into becoming good.”
A snicker. “Are you saying if you got rid of my evil, there just wouldn’t be any Cozy left?”
Twilight spoke delicately, overenunciating each word. “I would not put it that way.” She sighed. “If you are willing to try magic, I do have some ideas, but there’s not much precedent.”
Cozy shrugged. “Will it get me out of here? My body, anyway?”
Twilight’s ears wilted. “I hope so.”
When Cozy next saw the princess, Twilight was carrying a small object in her magic. As she approached, the object grew to take the form of a necklace. An Element of Harmony, perhaps? Cozy knew from her stint at the School of Friendship those might work.
“Good morning, Cozy Glow.” Twilight smiled serenely, and for a second, Cozy shivered, shrinking down in her cell.
“Skip the pleasantries, thank you very much. Did you finally come to free me?” Under her breath Cozy added, “It sure took you long enough.”
Twilight blinked. “Yes. I believe I have figured out a way to help you, Cozy.”
“I’m listening.”
Twilight brought the object closer to Cozy, slowly rotating it to allow Cozy to inspect. “A geode containing empathy magic. A relic from another world, temporarily enchanted so anypony can use it.”
“Empathy magic?” Cozy bit her tongue, stifling the remarks flying through her head about the stupidity of Twilight’s quest for the magic of friendship.
A quick nod. “The geode allows the bearer to see the memories of a pony, to understand them at a deep level, to empathize with their plight.”
Cozy burst out laughing. “That’s your big plan?” She took a moment to regain her composure. “You think I’m a misunderstood little filly, and the moment you go wading through my memories, you’ll figure out what makes me tick. Golly, and here I thought you were the clever one.”
Twilight shook her head. “I want you to use the geode to understand what it’s like to be another pony, and I want to use my magic to make sure you can remember.”
The filly stared. “I’ve never felt empathy, you know. Why should I? There’s no good reason to care about the brats around me if there’s nothing I can get from them.”
“If you’re willing to try, I hope I can help with that.” She levitated the geode right in front of Cozy, who stared at it for a second, and finally grabbed it with her hoof. “Wear it like a necklace,” Twilight instructed, and Cozy obeyed.
Cozy glanced down at the foreign object dangling against her. “I don’t feel any different, you know.”
Twilight held out her hoof, as if introducing herself. “It needs touch to activate.”
Cozy threw her eyes back and forth between the geode and Twilight’s hoof. Inhaling briefly, she closed her eyes and met Twilight’s hoof with her own, and in an instant, her eyes flashed to white.
A filly no more than six years old was stuck sitting in the middle of a Magic Kindergarten classroom, surrounded by jeering foals. Her ally in the classroom had stepped out momentarily, leaving the little filly “in charge” of the classroom. Said “charge” only fed the laughter of her classmates.
Feeling the walls of her world collapsing, she forced shut her eyes, let her ears droop back, and cried.
A purple filly sat drowsy-eyed at a miniature table next to a green unicorn her age and a grey colt. The filly stared at the paper facing the trio from the center of the table. The other foals’ eyes glazed over the problem on the page without recognition evident. Abruptly the filly burst out, “Five!” She blushed, amending her response. “Well, four point seven, but you can’t have seven-tenths of a hayburger.”
The other foals stared at her incredulously. “Hmm?” the colt mumbled. “I still haven’t read the question,” he added with a trace of embarrassment masked by a smirk.
The purple filly hmphed. “It was pretty obvious if you put time into reading the text!”
A frown shadowed the green filly’s mouth. She lamented, “I read the question. I just couldn’t figure out the answer, Twilight.”
Twilight stared. “Did you study?” Receiving silence as an answer, she chided, “You should’ve studied, Lyra.”
Lyra stared back, playing with her mane with an idle hoof. “I studied a bit.” She stuck her tongue out at Twilight, straddling the line of playful and comically rude. “You’re just a genius.”
Twilight held her stare. “No, I’m not,” she said.
The grey foal piped in, “You kinda are. You’re the smartest one in the class and you get the best grades of anyone I know.”
“No, I’m not,” she insisted, a little louder and more dramatic this time. “And like I said, it’s because I study.” She hummed, “You’d get the same grades as me if you bothered to study. Or read the question.”
“Speak for yourself,” he mumbled. “But Lyra’s right. You’re, like, scary smart.”
“It’s just because I study! I don’t understand why you don’t even bother to study!” she exploded. Huffing she rose up from the table and walked to put herself in the Timeout Corner, guilty of breaking the class’s rule “Always be kind to your fellow students”. As soon as she took her seat in the corner, she buried her face in her hooves, tears streaming out in broad daylight.
A few minutes of waterworks elapsing, the “classroom friend” approached. The “friend” was a slender unicorn, retaining youthful energy but carrying a definite aura of maturity. He crouched down next to the sobbing filly to meet her at eye level. “What’s wrong, Twilight?”
She spat out, “Everypony thinks I’m special.” She let a packet of tears unleash, continuing, “I’m not a genius!”
Perplexed, the teacher looked at her, a comforting gaze overlaying an all-too-clear confusion. “How do you feel when ponies say you’re special?”
For a moment, Twilight ignored the question, save for periodic sniffling as the flow of tears slowed. Ultimately, she replied, “It makes me feel like I’m weird. Like I’m–” she dropped to a whisper– “better than everyone else.” She covered her mouth with her hoof, eyes shooting open. “I’m sorry, Mr. Starshine. I didn’t mean to break rule #3.”
Starshine smiled sympathetically. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I know you’re not trying to be mean to any other foal.”
Twilight only drooped further at his response, unprepared to pass blame onto anyone other than herself. “Then why does it keep happening? I’m not smart. I’m not special. I just study.” She resumed wailing with a fresh stream of tears.
He frowned. “Would it be bad if you were? It’s great to be different. Some of the most incredible ponies of history have been geniuses, set apart from the ponies around them.”
Twilight gazed up, her attention peaked but eyes nevertheless skeptical. “Really?” She tilted her head. “Like who?”
He smiled, the filly evidently comforted. “Really. Like… who was it you did your Pony Presentation Project on, again?”
“Starswirl the Bearded?” she asked, puzzled.
He nodded. “Yes, like Starswirl. What if you were a genius like Starswirl?”
She sat silent, a contemplative look set on her eyes. “But I don’t want to be a genius. I want to be like them.”
“I know. But sometimes we don’t get to choose.” He dared to smile. “Sometimes we learn to be happy just as we are.”
She hmphed. Inconsolable, she crossed her hooves with a frown painting her lips and huffed, “Whatever. This is stupid. Magic Kindergarten is stupid!”
In four short words, she resumed crying and voluntarily committed herself to another three hours of punishment in the Timeout Corner.
A few weeks later, her invitation to apply to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns arrived in the mail.
Side by side at Celestia’s School, a young Twilight Sparkle and one miss Moondancer read from separate books. Largely they were content to stay silent, but on occasion, they would break into argument.
“You can’t take the square root of negative four, Twilight.” Moondancer chided. “Square roots aren’t defined for negative numbers.”
“Nuh-uh.” Twilight huffed. “The square root of negative four is two eye.” She pointed at her own pair of eyes to illustrate. “I read it in Complex Mathematics by L. K. Glasses.”
Moondancer flopped her ears, clearly bested by the wisdom of a book she had never read. Rather than argue, she simply complained with a faint smile, taking Twilight’s hoof in hers on instinct. “Why were you reading Complex Mathematics anyway?”
Twilight didn’t react to the sudden pressure on her hoof. “I was bored with simple mathematics.”
“That makes sense.” Moondancer twiddled her ears. “You make sense.”
“Okay.” Twilight tilted her head. “Hmm… I wonder what the square root of two eye is.”
Moondancer withdrew her hoof to poke Twilight on the shoulder. “Give me Complex Mathematics. I bet I can figure it out.”
Twilight opened her saddle bag with her shaky levitation and withdrew the requested book, placing it in front of Moondancer. Hesitantly, Twilight placed her own hoof on Moondancer’s, with an uncertain smile, a gesture pushing Moondancer’s lips up as she lost herself in the new book in front of her.
For years, that day was the closest either filly came to friendship.
A teenage pony sat drowsy-eyed at a table in the vast halls of the Canterlot library, alone with her horn-written notes on the complete works of Haycartes and a dusty pile of sprawled out books. Her eyes glazed over the words, page by page, one stiff hoof pressed up against her temple while the other fixed her book’s grasp on the table.
“No, no, no…” she whispered to nopony in particular. “No, I already know Haycartes’ Fundamental Theorem; I don’t need a history lesson. I’m looking for information on the generalization to higher dimensions.” She let out an exasperated sigh.
While Twilight lost herself in the book, a green-coated mare her age wearing a saddlebag approached her. At first, the mare watched from a distance, undetected by the pony lost in a textual world. Her eyes wandered between the books, the unintelligible notes, and the contorted muzzle of the pony herself. Eventually, she announced her presence. “Twilight?”
Without looking up from the source material, Twilight chided, “Not now, Spike, I’m working. What happened to the book you brought?”
The green pony didn’t respond initially, a layer of confusion painted across her muzzle. Twilight responded for her. “Well?”
Delicately, the pony replied, “I’m not sure who Spike is…?”
At this, Twilight turned around to face the intruder. “And you are…?”
“Lyra Heartstrings.”
Blink.
“We used to be friends?”
Blink.
“Magic Kindergarten?”
Finally, Twilight pursed her lips into an “o”. The faintest lukewarm smile greeted Lyra. “Oh, right. Hi. How have have your studies been?”
Lyra giggled. “Same old, Twilight Sparkle. I – sorry, my studies – have been fantastic. I placed into the advanced mathematics curriculum. We’re studying elementary Haycartes theory!” Her eyes drifted over to the stacked books on Twilight’s desk. “Ooo, what are you reading?”
Twilight recited, “Advanced Calculus Methods: Interactive Derivation and Applications.” She paused. “What did you mean, ‘same old Twilight Sparkle’?”
Lyra smiled. “We haven’t seen each other in years, and you asked what I was studying.” She clicked her tongue. “Classic Twilight!”
Twilight cocked her head. “I pride myself on my academics.”
“There’s no need to be so modest.” She winked. “I know you’re a smart cookie.”
Twilight replied with a slight discontent. “I study a great deal.” She bit her lip. “At least, I’m pretty sure that’s all it is.”
Lyra giggled. “I guess I can let you get back to your studying.” She waved her hoof to emphasize the “studying”, quickly adding, “Hey, we should meet up sometime. I could introduce you to my friends here in Canterlot.” She tilted her head. “Well, reintroduce. You met those ponies years ago.”
Twilight’s eyes drifted back to her reading material. “Maybe?”
“Like Minuette”. A blank stare. “And Twinkleshine and Lemon Hearts?” Neither name produced even a trace of recognition. “Oh, and Moondancer.”
Twilight’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Moondancer,” she repeated to herself. She paused, and then nodded awkwardly in Lyra’s direction. “Alright.”
Lyra bounced up and down. “Awesome!” She ruffled through her bag, levitating out a scrap of paper and a pencil and dropping them on the surface of the table. She jotted down a line and said, “Here’s my address. I hope we meet up sometime.”
Twilight idly levitated the paper, studied it, and dropped it back on her pile of belongings. “Right. Yeah, okay. Maybe sometime.”
Lyra beamed. “Great! It was a pleasure to catch up with you, Twi. I’ll let you get back to your books.” She shrugged. “See you around?”
Twilight mumbled back, “See you around,” and proceeded scanning through the pages of the textbook.
Back to studying, same as any other day.
Many years later, in a bipedal body, Twilight stared as Sunset Shimmer emerged from the washroom wearing her signature pajamas. Sunset was in her senior year of high school, and Twilight was recently crowned the Princess of Friendship. Together with their friends, they had defeated the Sirens, and Sunset invited Twilight over to her flat to “celebrate”. Of course, Twilight had to recalibrate her expectations as it dawned on her that this was not a Pinkie Pie “celebration”.
Or perhaps Twilight had much to learn about the Pinkie Pie celebrations to which she was not invited.
“Hey,” Sunset said smoothly, her face radiating nascent love for a friend. Or a special friend, Twilight realized.
“Uh, hi.” Twilight curled her hair aimlessly with her finger, hiding one eye behind a lock. “Um, Sunset?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I might’ve gotten the wrong idea. I’m really sorry about that.” She blushed. “But I have read enough books, so I’m wondering if this means you’re about to ask me to…?”
Sunset mirrored the blush. “Oh. I just assumed after our talk at Pinkie’s sleepover that you–” She shook her head aggressively, her palm smacked to her forehead, muttering to herself, “Stupid stupid stupid.”
“Hey.” Twilight reached out for Sunset’s hand, who hesitantly took it in her own. “Just because I misunderstood a few minutes ago doesn’t mean I’m saying no now. Not that I know exactly what I’d be saying yes to, but at least on a physiological level I’m familiar with the mechanics of the act, so it shouldn’t be terribly complicated to pattern match to my own body, not that I have experience with…”
“Hey.” Sunset quoted with a cheeky grin, placing one finger on Twilight’s lip and withdrawing it as Twilight trailed off. “I don’t think you misunderstood me. I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear.” She pushed the inside of her lip with her tongue and made an awkward pop. “I do have feelings for you, and if you wanted to mess around, I’d be down. But if you don’t, that’s totally okay.” She smirked. “When I said ‘celebrate’, I meant because we’re friends, and friends have fun together. I think I have a Scrabble board here somewhere.”
“Oh.” Twilight curled her hair back behind her ear as her cheeks reddened. “Scrabble sounds nice. But in that case, I hope it’s okay if, um…” She darted her eyes around, as if checking for onlookers. A cocktail of oxytocin and adrenaline coursing through her veins, she leaned forward and stole her first kiss from Sunset’s lips, sharing the warmth of a fire between them as it radiated onto their cheeks.
Sunset shivered and swallowed quickly. She averted Twilight’s eye contact and quickly said, “I’ll get the tiles.”
Twilight cupped her ruddy cheek in her hand and watched as Sunset retreated, distracted by a novel feeling brewing in her stomach.
A feeling she swore she had never felt for another pony before.
“Moondancer?” Twilight asked with hope, standing outside the broken door of a forgotten filly she once knew better than any.
A hope shattered moments later as her reintroduction was quickly terminated with an “Ugh!” and a slammed door.
Her stomach churned inside, faced with the bittersweet memories of a childhood displaced in time.
If her mere presence elicited such a strong reaction, Twilight reasoned there was more to her forgotten friendship than appeared on the surface.
If only Twilight could figure out what.
Cozy Glow recoiled from the series of intimate memories of the princess, but before she could comment, she was inundated by a purple glow emitted from the alicorn’s own horn. The magic glow felt warm to the touch but left her insides’ frozen, a warm blanket reminding Cozy of just how exposed her soul was. A magic anesthetic, she assumed.
Twilight spoke first, for Cozy was rendered unable. “I want you to remember those feelings. Pain and loneliness. Happiness and love.” She swallowed. “Friendship and romance. True empathy. Hold on to those fragments, Cozy Glow. They will be your passage to becoming a new pony.”
Trapped in a swirling sea of her cold emotions mixed with Twilight’s memories, Cozy was no longer sure she wanted to become a new pony. Even if she changed her mind, it was too late to back out. Moments later, she was struck with a rainbow beam from Twilight’s horn, burning her world to white.
Crystalline walls. Blankets and bedding on a twin bed. A bag of fluid suspended from a pole with tubing connecting to an exposed contraption sinking into the bed. A cart with sterile supplies and assorted devices. In one corner, an empty desk with a small chair parked inside. In the other corner, a closed door.
Alone, a filly awoke from a terrible nightmare of being trapped in Tartarus, and some dream about Princess Twilight Sparkle. In the haze of awakening, she couldn’t quite grasp who she was, where she was, or how she got there. The remains of the dream were near, intangible but swirling around her.
“Hello?” she called.
Beyond the door, the filly heard hooves shuffling and a pair of muffled feminine voices. The voices were quick but quiet. There was pronounced emotion behind their tones, but at the low volume, the filly was unsure if it was excitement or anger. The voices died down moments after they came, and the door creaked open.
An off-white mare with a pink mane and a red badge emerged. “Good morning, dearie. My name is Nurse Redheart, and I’ve been taking care of you. How are you feeling?”
The filly blinked away the sleep and looked down at her hoof. Light pink, like the wicked filly locked in Tartarus in her dream. “Okay, I think. Did something happen? Am I in the hospital?”
The nurse’s sad smile radiated nurturing sympathy. “Oh, we weren’t sure how much you would remember. I’m so sorry. You were struck by some powerful magic, and your body needed plenty of rest to recover. But you’re not in the hospital. Princess Twilight arranged for you to stay in this room here in Ponyville.”
“Princess Twilight?” Recognition wiped across the filly’s muzzle.
Redheart beamed, oblivious to everything that name meant to the filly. “Oh, would you like to meet her?” The filly nodded meekly. “As soon as I check your vitals, I bet she’d like to meet you too.”
Redheart retrieved two devices from the cart beside the bed, one in the shape of a tube, and the other in the shape of a gauge. She placed the gauge on the end of one of the filly’s exposed hooves, and placed the tube on the other hoof. Connected to the tube was a pump and a dial, which she pressed repeatedly until finally releasing the instruments with a smile. “Everything looks normal, dear.”
The filly faked a smile, unsure what not normal would look like. “Is Princess Twilight really coming?”
Putting away the supplies, the nurse glanced at a shadow cast on the door. “I think she’s already here.” With a curt nod, she left the filly, and in walked her replacement, the princess.
“Golly, it really is you,” the filly said, awe glazing over her eyes.
“Hello,” Twilight said. “It sounds like you know who I am. Do you know who you are?”
The filly shook her head weakly. “I had a dream about… you and some other filly. I can remember that dream pretty well. But I don’t remember anything before that.”
Twilight frowned, her eyes darting off in calculation. “Sometimes self-discovery isn’t about finding who we’re meant to be, but choosing who we want to be,” she said. “Who do you want to be when you’re older?”
The filly perked up. “I want to grow up to protect good ponies like you from bad ponies like that filly I saw in that nightmare.”
A hopeful nod. Noticing that the filly’s lower half was covered by blankets, Twilight asked, “What kind of cutie mark would you want?”
“Something that told ponies that I’m here to help them.” The filly trailed off in thought. “Something trustworthy.”
Twilight exhaled and tripped over her words. “I bet when you do earn your cutie mark, it will be just like that.”
The praise cut through any tension of its delivery, elating the filly. “Really, Princess?”
“Of course,” Twilight responded, much more at ease. “Destiny finds a way,” she explained. To herself, she added, “…until it doesn’t.”
“Gee, thank you.” The filly propped herself up against a pillow. “Are you destiny?”
Twilight laughed. “No, I’m just a pony like you.”
The filly gasped at the declaration. “So I could grow up to be an angel like you?”
“An angel?” Darkness flickered across Twilight’s expression, momentarily replacing her genuine smile, and fading away to leave only the fake smile of royalty. “I think you already are one.”
That day, Guardian Angel was born.
Sunset broke off contact from Angel, her jaw relaxed and eyebrows creased. “Wow.”
Angel straightened herself up. “I am pretty great.”
Sunset stared. “I never knew Twilight used the geode offensively. I remember her asking to borrow it for scientific research. Maybe she said it was for an experiment?” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t think she meant this kind of experiment.”
Angel snorted. “Boo-hoo, your girlfriend tricked you.”
“She wasn’t my girlfriend.” Sunset scowled.
“Okay.” Angel blew a puff of air. “Boo-hoo, you were all alone with your fantasies.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Why show me all of this, anyway?”
Angel grew quiet. “Look, I know the two of us got off on the wrong foot.”
“Understatement of the day.”
“And I know you haven’t liked me, and I admit the feeling has been mutual.” Angel bit her lip.
Sunset grew an adversarial grin. “Not pulling any punches? I could like you for that.”
Angel rubbed her temples. “Sunset, I need you to know we’re on the same side. You would never believe me if I told you, but I trust the memories you saw are enough to convince you I’m being honest.” She giggled at Sunset’s deadpan. “Hey, there’s a first for everything.”
Sunset’s eyes pierced Angel’s, expression illegible. “Which side would that be?”
Angel smiled sadly. “Twilight Sparkle’s, of course. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully forgive her for the circumstances of my creation, but make no mistakes about my loyalties. I’m not under a spell; I could hurt her if I wanted.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I could never want that. I was flooded with a single set of memories, Sunset. That means there’s only a single pony in the world I care about.”
Sunset mirrored the sad smile. “Is that why you’ve been so snippy to me?”
“That’s a loaded question,” Angel said. “You love her. I only know what love is because of her. I owe my life to her. You’d give your life in a heartbeat to save hers.”
Sunset opened her mouth, seemingly disputing the facts, but quickly closed it. A moment passed before she spoke. “That’s a hell of a connection.”
“Right.” Angel shrugged. “That’s more than enough sap for the day. I’m not a maple tree like you.”
Sunset let out a breathy laugh.
“With that behind us” – she dropped to a snarl – “where it will stay” – she bounced back – “I’m going to ask you again. What really happened at the cemetery?”
Sunset hesitated, glanced down at the floor, and sighed. “How much do you know about the autism spectrum?”
Angel raised an eyebrow. “I’ve ingested years of Twilight Sparkle’s memories. Consider me well-acquainted.”
Sunset choked back a laugh. “I can’t tell if that’s a joke or not, coming from you.”
“Do I look like a psychologist?” Angel stuck her tongue out. “I know if she is on the spectrum, she’s not diagnosed.”
A nod. “Indeed, though I would add, her human counterpart is. The two worlds aren’t perfectly symmetric, but it means the Bayesian prior for Princess Twilight skyrockets.”
“Base Ian what now?” Angel closed her eyes. “Someone’s been spending too much time with Twilight.”
“Both Twilights, actually.” She giggled. “Given the other Twilight’s history, and the independent evidence for this Twilight, the mathematics suggest Twilight herself may be on the spectrum.”
Angel raised her hooves in mock surprise. “What a revelation. Thank you for this earth-shattering statistical insight that I never could have predicted without your interdimensional assistance.”
“Funny,” Sunset replied nasally. “Regardless, Princess Twilight herself refuses to consider the possibility, even as it becomes more… pronounced in her daily life. I was trying to talk to her about it in the cemetery, and I thought she was finally opening up, when there was some loud noise and she disappeared.” She kicked the ground with her hoof. “So much for radical self-acceptance.”
Angel squinted her eyes. “You didn’t mention anything about a loud noise before.”
“Oops?” Sunset bit her lip. “Sirens in downtown Canterlot are hardly noteworthy.” Her eyes widened. “Although for a stressed out autistic mare, they are. Sweet Celestia, what if she decided to teleport herself to escape the situation?”
Angel frowned. “It’s possible, but doesn’t that raise more questions than it answers? Where would she teleport to? Why wouldn’t she come back as soon as the noise died down? Why not tell anyone of her whereabouts instead of requiring a search party? And why can’t anyone find her now?” Angel lounged back in her chair. “Teleportation may be magic, but it isn’t witchcraft.”
Sunset tapped a hoof against the ground, imitating the rhythms that reminded her of Twilight. “If she left Canterlot, we wouldn’t find her this quickly. Maybe she got distracted wherever she went. Got wrapped up in a magic theory problem and needed to write down her insights before they went to waste, or…” Sunset’s ears flopped back in fantasy, returning to the present to find Angel’s stare fixed on her. “Gah. There’s something I’m missing.”
For a moment, the two remained still, Sunset’s look pensive and Angel’s a mix of exasperated and bored. At once Sunset sprung to life.
“Moondancer’s spell!”
Before Angel could ask for clarification, Sunset explained, “Twilight told me in the cemetery about a spell Moondancer created as a foal. A time-out spell, to magically remove her from a stressful situation and give herself a neutral sensory environment to stabilize herself before returning to her point of origin in the near future. Twilight told me she never used the spell except when she first learned it as a filly, but what if she used it in the cemetery? She had plenty of reason to.”
Angel nodded slowly. “Having already brought it up in conversation, it would’ve been top of mind. As a spontaneous spell cast in distress, that makes it a likely choice.”
Sunset clapped her hooves. “Moondancer herself could have used the spell to escape from the library in the first place.”
“Alright.” Angel stood up from her chair. “Can we get them back?”
“Twilight didn’t share details of the spell, and if it’s Moondancer’s creation, it might not be available in writing to reverse-engineer.” Sunset trailed off. “She did say it used the Clover method, so unless Moondancer’s particular implementation has a vulnerability, Twilight is in control of the duration of the spell. Given her magic reserves, we would be fools to try to interfere with it.”
Angel shrugged. “Do we have to, though? You said they’ll return to their points of origin. As long as we keep the grounds of the library and the cemetery under constant surveillance, we can just wait.”
Her eyes rolled back to their corners, flooded by memories of a previous life in stone and in Tartarus. “If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s wait.”
An hour later, a bright light flashed from the cemetery in the distance. Sunset gasped, and unwittingly holding her breath, galloped towards the source of the light, chased after the guards already on-scene. As she approached, she met eyes with a spacey but smiling alicorn.
She slowed her trot as the figure grew nearer and hung her mouth open, her vision blurring. “Twilight Sparkle?” Her face grew pale and with a tremble said, “Is that really you?”
“Sunset Shimmer,” the stranger cooed, her wings resting open. “You’ll never guess what happened.”
“Gee, I wonder.” Sunset deadpanned, words sharp but slow. “You cast the timeout spell?”
“I cast–” Twilight giggled dreamily. “Right, maybe you can guess.” She tapped her hoof with a breezy smile. “It happened so fast, but the moment the magic left my horn, I was in this other universe. At least, I wasn’t in this one. Everything was cool, dark, and quiet. There was no stimulation I didn’t create myself. Honestly, it was the most peaceful moment I’ve enjoyed in years. You should come along for the ride sometime.” Twilight bit her lip with a grin. “I certainly understand why Moondancer liked the spell so much. When I learned it as a filly, I was much too focused on the novelty to consider the utility. Somehow I never thought to cast it all this time.” She shook her head sweetly, eyes drifting from tomb to tomb. “It was the greatest thing, to just disappear for a moment– hey!”
Sunset interrupted Twilight’s speech with a gentle punch on her upper arm with a shaking hoof. She choked on her words. “That was leaving me without a trace, Twilight.”
A sniffle, and Sunset wrapped her hooves around the princess, her eyes widening. “And this is for coming back.”
Sunset pressed her muzzle up against Twilight’s, squeezing together their lips as she planted a delicate kiss on her princess, holding her tighter in a plea that she may never let go.
A kiss leaving Sunset’s lips flaming and Twilight’s cheeks burnt in the heat.