Welcome Home
The portal to Equestria lay before her. She could not see it; the darkness of the cave, augmented by the gloom of late afternoon, obscured all that might lie within, and yet, Robyn said that there was the portal, and Sunset believed her.
The alternative was the portal had closed of its own accord – wild magic was unpredictable that way – and that if Sunset walked into that cave, she would find nothing except a cold stone wall to bang her head on, and that was not a prospect upon which she wished to dwell. And not just for the sake of her head, either; what would she do then, go back to Freeport and beg Ruby for a boat? And if boats there were none, then what?
And what about going home?
What, what indeed, about going home?
Sunset did not believe that the portal had actually closed. For one thing, as they approached, they had seen the evidence of magic continuing to seep into Remnant into Equestria, not least the way the undergrowth had been moving to protect the cave. They had to carve a way through to reach this place; that would not happen if the way were shut. No, the portal was here, even if she couldn't see it.
The portal was here. Her way home was here. Her way… her way back.
It was funny; not too long ago, she thought that she had stopped considering Equestria home. Equestria was the place that had birthed her, Canterlot was the place that had molded her, but at the same time… it had stopped being home to her. Not so much because of longevity – four years in the other Canterlot, and it had never become home to her; unless you were so unfortunate as to be born into misery and never escape, you had to like a place somewhat before you called it home – but Beacon… Beacon had been different. Beacon had been home to her, Beacon had displaced Equestria, the Emerald Tower replacing the gleaming golden spires of Canterlot, the SAPR dorm room replacing her old room in the palace, the grounds, the statue… the people. The people who had made Beacon what it was, who had made a home for her: Pyrrha, Jaune, Blake, Ruby… all gone now.
All, all gone. The Emerald Tower was fallen, Beacon was half in ruins and closed to students, and the people… scattered throughout Remnant: Blake to Atlas, Pyrrha and Jaune to Mistral, Ruby… well, some time away from Ruby would be good for both of them.
It pained her, but perhaps that made it more true.
Beacon could not be her home anymore for the simple reason that it was gone, and everything that made it home gone with it. Where, then, was Sunset's home? Lady Nikos' house in Mistral? It was where Pyrrha was, hopefully, but… what was home, what made a home, what purpose did it serve?
Home was… home was warmth, home was comfort, home was good cheer, home was… home was safety. Home was somewhere to go back to at the end of a dark day, somewhere to put your cares and troubles aside, somewhere to rest… and then to set out from once again, refreshed and renewed in body and spirit.
Home, then, was Equestria. A home to which she would return, and rest for just a little while, and then go forth once more.
She wanted this, she needed this, a part of her had dreamt of this, and yet, at the same time, now that she stood before the cave in which dark depths the portal dwelt, Sunset felt so unsure of this.
To go home, to go to Equestria, to leave the struggle behind, if only for a little while, to abandon Ruby and Pyrrha and all the rest to fight their battles in Freeport and in Mistral, to put aside Salem and the grimm and Professor Ozpin and everything else, to take her rest while no other had that luxury, to flee in a way no other could. Had she that right? Could she afford to do this?
Could she afford not to?
She needed this. She needed this. Sunset took a deep breath, bowing her head so that it rested upon the cold metal of her cuirass. She felt stretched, she felt ground down, she felt tired, she felt so very tired.
It felt as though she had hardly had a chance to take a breath in such a long time. From Mountain Glenn and everything that had happened there, then that whole business with Merlot, then Amber, the Battle of Vale, rushing from pillar to post at Cardin's behest, putting out this fire or that, and then this march across the breadth of eastern Sanus, battling monstrous grimm, enduring Ruby's constant needling and pricking of her conscience while trying desperately to mend fences with her… she had been so tired that she had been willing to give up everything, partly on the promises that Dawn had given to her but also… also because she had been so tired.
They did not have the right to all of her, surely. Whatever her fault, whatever her obligations, they could not demand that she give herself up wholly and completely to this cause until she was ground down by it? Had she not earned a brief respite from the struggle?
They did not have the right to all of her, any more than they had had the right to ask Pyrrha to climb into that infernal machine and sacrifice her life so that some chimera-entity could arise as the new Fall Maiden.
She needed this, and they had no right to deny it to her. But did she have the right to claim it for herself. After everything that she had done, did she have the right to go home? She was a killer, she had gunned down Adam Taurus, she had sought his death for some time before she gunned him down, she had taken life. Did someone like her, a killer, have the right to go Equestria, if only for a little while? Might she not pollute it with her… she would not say sin, but rather her, her uncleanness. Might she not stain Princess Celestia's pristine white coat and alabaster feathers?
"The Princess was very sorry to see you go," Robyn said, her words intruding into Sunset's thoughts.
Sunset glanced at her. How long have I been standing here, that my thoughts are so obvious? "Excuse me?"
"Princess Celestia always regretted your departure," Robyn told her. "She regretted having to send you away, and even more, she regretted that you left Equestria and… well, came here."
Once, those words would have provoked a bitterness in Sunset, but not anymore. There was no fire in her to say or even think that if Princess Celestia hadn't wanted her to go, then she could have simply not sent her away in the first place.
All there was now was a degree of gratitude… and sufficient mischief left remaining in her that Sunset could manage to muster a smirk and say, "Well, if your guards hadn't been so incompetent at their jobs, then I wouldn't have gotten away from them and ended up here, would I?"
Robyn glared at her, inhaling through her nostrils. Then she released that breath and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I can't argue with that," she conceded. "My point is-"
"I know what your point is," Sunset replied. "And I… I thank you for it." She faced the impenetrable darkness of the cave once more. She took a deep breath. "Okay, this is it."
"Yeah," Cardin half-moaned, half-murmured. "This is it."
"Are you worried about this?" Lyra asked.
"Are you not worried about this?" Cardin replied. "We're going to be literally changing our bodies."
"We literally change bodies all the time," Bon Bon pointed out. "It's why we don't look like babies, still."
"That's not the same thing," Cardin said sharply.
"Either way, I'm not worried," Lyra said. "This is going to be great!"
"We'll see," Sunset muttered. She glanced at Cinder. "Are you-?"
"All I ask is that my form in this new world be suitably impressive," Cinder said. "If I am transformed into some common creature, I shall be very disappointed." A smile pricked at one corner of her mouth. "It would be very nice to have magic again, if only for a little while."
"I'm afraid I can't promise anything," Sunset said. She didn't know what Cinder's counterpart on the other side of the mirror was; trying to find out would have involved revealing Cinder's birth name, and she had no wish to do that to her.
"I have faith that destiny will recognise my worth," Cinder declared. She chuckled, as much to herself as anything else. "I believe that you ought to go first," she added, gesturing ahead of her and into the cave with its attendant darkness.
Sunset smiled, only a little tightly, and adjusted Sol Invictus upon her shoulder. With one hand, she reached up for the hilt of Soteria. She wondered, having not really given it much thought before, what would happen to her weapons when she crossed over. Hopefully it wouldn’t damage them – she didn’t know how she’d explain it to Lady Nikos.
Still, that was something to worry about later, if at all.
Sunset took a step forward, then another, then another, and her steps seemed to grow lighter with every pace she took as she strode forwards, stepping over the vines that grew out of the ground, stepping out of the dying light of the sun, stepping into the darkness of the cave.
A chill breeze licked at her face and hands. Sunset pressed on, not bothering to cast a night vision spell or magelight, merely walking forwards through the darkness, trusting that, before she could walk face-first into a wall, she would find-
Suddenly, there was nothing beneath her feet. Sunset’s expectation of something like this could not prevent a gasp from escaping her lips as she found herself falling, tail streaming out behind her, hair flying all around her face, tumbling head over heels into a lightless void which suddenly became far less lightless. Suddenly, the world was filled with pink light, a swirling vortex of pink currents spiralling downwards, carrying Sunset with them. For a moment, she felt herself spun over and over, pulled headfirst and carried in the currents of the vortex. Then she… she no longer felt anything at all. This had been the most terrifying part of her initial journey, when Sunset had lost all feeling in her body, unable to move her hooves, unable to speak, unable to do or touch or feel; the moment when her body disappeared, leaving only thought, a disembodied consciousness in search of the form waiting for it on the other side. It was not so alarming now that she knew what to expect, but that didn’t mean that Sunset liked it any better as her hands, her feet, her clothes, her weapons, all disappeared, leaving only the mind of Sunset Shimmer travelling downwards, pulled in a circular descent towards… towards home.
And then she could feel again, but not as she had felt before; now, she could feel the air upon her coat, feel the magic surging in her so much more strongly than it had ever done before, feel the solid and digitless hooves upon the ends of her limbs as Sunset was hurled out of the portal and belly-flopped onto the dusty ground.
Sunset opened her eyes and looked at the hooves on the end of her forelegs. It wasn’t even like she could feel her fingers or toes but couldn’t move them; she couldn’t feel them at all for the obvious reason that they weren’t there.
And it was really weird. Over the last six years, she’d gotten used to having hands and feet, to having fingers and toes, to being able to have a way of manipulating the world around her that was denied to her now, that had been taken from her, if only for a little while.
It was like having her hands cut off and no option for an Atlesian prosthetic.
It was weird, and weirder still because this was her state of nature. This was how she had been born, this was how she had grown up, this was how she had interacted with the world for the first years of her life.
“To think,” she murmured aloud, “that there was a time when this seemed normal.”
“As opposed to what?” Twilight asked.
Of course it wasn’t… yes, it was Twilight Sparkle that Sunset saw, standing over her, looking down with a friendly smile upon her face – Sunset recognised the voice immediately – but it wasn’t Twilight Sparkle. This was Princess Twilight Sparkle, Sunset’s correspondent, finally revealed in the coat and the mane.
She wasn’t wearing spectacles, which was a little surprising. And her coat was lavender, which Sunset hadn’t been expecting – although if she’d thought about it, she wouldn’t have been able to say what colour she had expected Princess Twilight’s coat to be – but other than that, she looked very much as Sunset had expected her to look: the same eyes, the streak of pink in her mane, the same bangs, although Princess Twilight curled her mane at the shoulders, which her human counterpart did not do.
And, of course, she was an alicorn, a unicorn horn rising proudly out of her mane even as a pair of wings were presently tucked in against her flanks.
Sunset tried to rise onto her hooves. It was more difficult than she had expected; she was six years out of practice with being a quadruped, and she was a little unsteady on her newly-regained equine limbs. The joints didn’t bend the same way that she was used to now, and she didn’t have as much grip. Her trembling legs betrayed her, and she landed flat on her stomach again.
“Do you need some help?” Princess Twilight asked, offering one lavender hoof.
Sunset took it, wrapping her own hoof – it was, at least, more dextrous than it seemed to look on – around the princess’ own and allowing her to help her.
“Thanks,” Sunset muttered as she started to feel as though she could stand without falling over. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, I presume?”
Princess Twilight’s smile widened. “Princess Sunset Shimmer, I take it?”
Sunset blinked. Of course. If she could do those things, if she had those powers in Remnant, then that must mean… she could feel them. She could feel them just behind her shoulders.
She did not look. She was almost… almost afraid to look, afraid that if she looked, then it would turn out that they weren’t actually there at all, and she’d just been misinterpreting an itch or something.
She looked at Princess Twilight instead. “Are they-?”
Twilight nodded briskly. “Congratulations.”
Sunset looked behind her and to her right. An amber wing, the feathers the same colour as her coat, rested gently against her flank. She looked to her left, where it was the same story.
Sunset gasped. Her mouth fell open. Her green eyes widened as she unfurled her wings, the amber feathers rising outwards, extending from her body like… well, like wings. Experimentally, gently at first, Sunset flapped them, moving them back and forth more rapidly, and as she flapped, a childlike laugh escaped her lips, a laugh that only grew louder as her furious flapping bore her upwards a few inches off the ground.
“I have wings!” Sunset yelled. “I’ve got wings! I can fly now! I’m an a-”
She suddenly stopped flying and found herself dropping the short distance back down onto the ground.
The fact the distance was short did not make it any less humiliating.
“It takes some getting used to,” Princess Twilight consoled her as she helped Sunset up again. “You’ll figure it out.”
“I’m not sure that I’ll be here that long,” Sunset murmured. “But thank you for soothing my injured pride.”
The smile didn’t waver from Twilight’s face. “How does it feel?”
Sunset thought for a moment. “You… you have no idea how long I spent dreaming of these,” she said. “The symbol of…” – she laughed, and she could not keep her laughter from being tinged with bitterness – “the symbol of my success. My triumph. I don’t feel particularly triumphant.”
She wasn’t entirely sure what she had done to earn the wings, whether it was saving Amber – she had noticed that her powers were beginning to grow stronger around that time – or saving Cinder, but the former at least… Amber had betrayed them, killed Professor Ozpin, and in the end, died anyway, but not before delivering a Relic to Salem. If that was what she was being rewarded for… there was something rather hollow in it.
I would rather ascend for saving Cinder; there, at least, is something I can point to and say ‘yes, I did that, and I would do it again without a second’s hesitation.’
Twilight frowned. “You don’t need to be so hard on yourself.” She paused. “If I may… it seems sometimes as if some of your friends are hard enough on you as it is.”
Sunset was in little doubt as to whom Twilight was referring. “It’s… it’s all over with now. In the past. It… it doesn’t matter anymore.”
She waved one hoof airily, as though by that alone, she could dismiss everything that had passed between them. We’re better now, and time and distance will make us better still.
“Still, you probably shouldn’t call me 'princess.' I haven’t… I haven’t been crowned, for one thing, and for another…” Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. “And for another, I haven’t earned it.” She smiled. “And for a third thing, what would I be princess of?”
“You’re allowed to figure that out too,” Twilight pointed out.
“I still haven’t figured out my cutie mark yet, let alone what I’d be as a princess, even if I was one,” Sunset replied. She paused. It had not escaped her notice that Twilight was the only pony around here. “Princess-”
“Please, Twilight will do fine.”
“So will Sunset,” Sunset replied. “Okay, Twilight… where’s… where’s Princess Celestia?”
If it turned out that she hadn’t wanted to come, that she hadn’t cared enough, that it didn’t really matter to her whether Sunset came home or not, then… well, safe to say that Sunset wouldn’t be getting the rest she’d been hoping for here.
“Nearby,” Twilight assured her. “She thought that your friends might want to adjust to their new bodies in private without too many ponies watching. Where are your friends, anyway?”
Sunset looked around. The other side of the wild portal between Remnant and Equestria also lay within the mouth of a cave – although it must have been much closer to the mouth, considering that Sunset had been thrown clear out of the cave and into the open ground beyond – rising up out of a low rocky mound.
Sunset said, "Hopefully, they-" She was cut off by the sound of two voices crying out, shortly before a pair of figures emerged from out of the cave – Twilight and Sunset hastily made way – to land flat on their faces in front of it.
They opened their eyes. Their bodies looked completely different, their forms had changed, they were different colours than they had been before, but their eyes, their eyes gave them away.
It was by the eyes that Sunset could see that Cardin was an earth pony, large and powerfully-built, with a square jaw and a blockish, angular form; like his blue eyes, his mane had retained its brown colour, although not its usual shape; although it was quite short by pony standards, he no longer possessed the peak in which he wore it usually.
To be honest, Sunset was inclined to say that that was an improvement; she didn't know why he wore his hair like that anyway.
Cinder, meanwhile…
"Well, that was unexpected," Twilight murmured.
"A little bit," Sunset murmured. "Yeah."
Cinder was a dragon. A small dragon, so that as she got up onto her feet, she was only a little larger than the ponies around her, but a dragon nonetheless. Her scales were ruby red and polished to a brilliant sheen so that she looked like a gemstone brought to life; a pair of fiery amber horns rose from the top of her head, a little crooked in places, like the antlers of a deer, while spikes of the same ran down her back all the way to the end of her long tail. Surprisingly, she had retained her jet black hair, which had also retained its length and shape, right down to falling naturally over one of Cinder's eyes. A pair of wings sprouted from out of her back.
Cinder stood up, brushing herself off lightly as she looked down at Sunset. She had a long mouth, like a crocodile snout, and it made the smile that played upon her features look even more smug than it would have upon her human face. "Well, don't you look cute enough to cuddle?" she observed, in a voice that suggested she was making some effort not to laugh.
Sunset's eyebrows rose. "You didn't think I was cute before?"
"Not… quite the word I would have chosen," Cinder replied, before she turned her attention to her own appearance, holding up one hand and stretching out her fingers. "I, on the other hand, do not appear to look like you."
"No, but you did get your wish about transforming into something impressive," Sunset said. "You're a dragon, Cinder."
"I have always been a dragon," Cinder purred, petting her hair with one red, scaly hand. "I don't suppose anyone has a mirror to hand… or hoof?"
"Here," Twilight said, and her horn flared with a lavender aura as she popped open one of the saddle bags that she was wearing across her back – pale blue and marked with the six-pointed star of her cutie mark – and levitated a mirror out of it and through the air over to Cinder.
Cinder embraced the handle of the mirror in one hand, holding it up to examine her face from all angles, brushing the hair out of her eye so that she could see better. "Hmm. Well, it… I won't regret getting back to normal, but in the meantime… yes, I think this will do." She paused, lowering the mirror. "Wait a moment… if I'm a dragon, then…" She fell silent and turned away from Sunset and Princess Twilight, seeming to be concentrating upon something. Her chest rose and fell, before Cinder opened her mouth, and a great burst of flame gushed outwards and into the air. Cinder's smouldering eyes widened as the flame was followed by a triumphant cry. "Yes! Oh, yes! Fire once more at my command!"
"Are we going to have a problem?" Twilight whispered into Sunset's ear.
Cinder chuckled. "Forgive me, Princess Twilight-"
"Just Twilight will be fine."
Cinder's eyes narrowed. "You're a princess; why wouldn't you want to make people acknowledge it at every possible opportunity?"
"Because I don't need my ego stroked?" Princess Twilight suggested.
"I see," Cinder murmured dryly. "In any case, I hope you will pardon me a little glee at having fire once more at my command again, if only for a little while."
Sunset frowned and looked away. She felt… responsible for Cinder's present condition. Cinder had given up her magic, the power that she had sought for so long, given it up to Sunset, and Sunset, in turn, had given it up to Pyrrha. She stood by that decision, but at the same time, she could not deny that it had left Cinder herself powerless, especially by comparison with Sunset herself.
Small wonder that fact grated on her; she did very well not to show it in the ordinary course of things; perhaps Princess Twilight or Princess Celestia could help her find a solution.
One that didn't involve Cinder accepting her new lot in life.
"Good for you," Cardin muttered as he managed to find his hooves at last, rising unsteadily up off the ground. "But… what am I now?"
"You're an earth pony," Sunset explained, and it was the turn of her own horn to glow green as she levitated the mirror – likewise wrapped in a green glow – and floated it over to his face.
"Right," Cardin muttered. "Do I get any neat powers?"
"You're stronger than you were, and you have an innate connection to the land," Sunset offered.
"So that's a 'no,' then?"
"Yeah."
"There's nothing wrong with being an earth pony," Princess Twilight insisted.
"I bet some of your best friends are earth ponies," Cinder suggested archly.
"They are, as it happens, but you needn't say it like that," Princess Twilight replied. "Earth ponies-"
"Seem very ordinary to visitors," Sunset said. "I understand; I promise that no one whom I bring here will look down on anypony else because of their kind, but you have to appreciate that… to outsiders, the magic of unicorns and pegasi is extraordinary, it's outside of their experience of what's possible. Yes, it's normal to you, and to everypony else, and so nopony makes a big deal about having magic or being able to manipulate the weather the same way that no one in Remnant makes a big deal about having hands. But when I first went to Remnant, I found that having hands was quite a big deal for me."
"And now?" Twilight asked.
Sunset smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to lord my wings and horn over everypony else." She paused. "Anyway, it occurs to me that I have been very remiss when it comes to introductions: Twilight, allow me to present Cinder Fall and Cardin Winchester. Cinder, Cardin, allow me to introduce the Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle."
Cardin bowed his head. "Princess, thank you for having us."
"Please, just call me Twilight," Twilight begged, for the third time since Sunset had emerged. "And weren't there supposed to be more of you? Where's Robyn-?"
Lyra and Bon Bon tumbled through the portal; Robyn Hill swiftly followed, although she managed to avoid the tumbling, instead soaring out over the heads of the prone ponies to land easily next to Princess Twilight.
Show off, thought Sunset.
Bon Bon, her mane retaining its two-tone colour and most of its shape and general fluffiness, even as her coat had coloured itself in a pale yellow like vanilla custard, opened her eyes. Those same eyes widened as she beheld the others. "You… you've all changed," she observed weakly.
"So have you," Cinder pointed out.
Bon Bon looked at her own hoof. A sound that was almost, but not quite, a whimper escaped her lips.
"I told you this would happen," Sunset pointed out.
"I wasn't sure whether to believe you or not," Bon Bon muttered. She twisted her head around to look at Lyra. "You said we probably wouldn't change!"
"Well, Meghan Williams didn't change, did she?" Lyra replied. "How was I to know it would be different for us. Why was it different for us?"
"Perhaps it wasn't different, and Ms. Williams didn't mention transforming into a pony because she was aware that her credibility would be tenuous enough without that little detail?" Sunset suggested.
"That… makes a depressing amount of sense," Lyra conceded. She looked herself up and down. "Still, I think this looks pretty cool."
"Really?" Bon Bon murmured.
"Yeah!" Lyra cried. "We're in another world! We've been transformed into otherworldly creatures! This is so awesome!"
"Say that when you next want to pick something up," Bon Bon replied, as she got up. She stared at the horn poking out of Lyra's pale mane.
"What?" Lyra asked. "Is there something on my face?"
"In a manner of speaking," Bon Bon said, reaching out with one hoof to poke at Lyra's horn.
"Oh," Lyra gasped, backing away a step. "I felt that! How did I feel that?"
"You're a unicorn," Sunset explained. "You have a horn. You can use it to do magic."
"Magic?" Lyra cried. "I can do magic?" She beamed for a few seconds. "Wait, how do I do magic?"
"I have neither the time nor the inclination to teach you," Sunset declared magisterially. "But I'm sure you'll figure it out by yourself."
"Do I have one of those?" Bon Bon asked, waving her hoof in the air above her head as she fumbled for some trace of it.
"No, you don't; you're an earth pony," Sunset explained.
"Can I do magic?"
"No," Sunset replied. "But you do have a connection to nature and the land."
"That sucks."
"I wish you'd stop saying that," Princess Twilight muttered.
"Come on, Bon Bon," Lyra said, bouncing up and down on all four hooves. "Once I learn how to do magic, I'll be able to do enough for both of us."
"That will be nice for you, I'm sure."
"Stop doing that!" Lyra snapped.
"Doing what?"
"Being such a downer!" Lyra yelled. "We have a chance to start over. A whole new world! Nobody knows us, nobody knows who we are, nobody knows that we betrayed Beacon or anything else. We can be whole new people here. We can be… we can be whoever we want to be. And who knows? Maybe we'll find other portals to whole different worlds, just out there, waiting for us!"
"I hope not," Princess Twilight said.
Lyra ignored her. "Just imagine it, Bon Bon: two losers from Canterlot, exploring the multiverse, seeing things that no one had ever seen, doing things that no one has ever done! Do you think Rainbow Dash will ever do something that cool? We have the chance to be free, to be really free in a way that almost no one ever is, to truly leave our pasts behind and make our futures. Doesn't that sound… wonderful? Doesn't that sound like something worth giving up fingers for?"
Bon Bon was silent for a moment. She looked into Lyra's eyes, and then down at the ground, and then back up at Lyra. "Well… when you put it as idyllically as that…" She looked at Sunset. "So… are we free?"
Princess Twilight took a step forward. "Here in Equestria, we believe in letting bygones be bygones. Whatever mistakes you may have made in Remnant are behind you now. You can go wherever you want and do whatever you want… just try to stay out of trouble, okay?"
Lyra nodded enthusiastically. "Trust me, we're not going to screw this one up."
"But I do have one question," Bon Bon said. "Where are our clothes?"
"And where are our weapons?" Cardin added.
"If they aren't in the saddlebags that you're wearing, then they are part of the saddlebags and will reappear on you or with you when you come back out of the portal," Twilight promised.
They had all emerged from the portal wearing some kind of saddlebag, with the exception of Cinder, who was wearing a backpack.
"Speaking of which, if you'll excuse me one second."
She stepped towards the portal, her horn glowing brightly. This was not just the mere glow that surrounded a unicorn's horn while using telekinesis or another such low effort or casual spell; this was the brightness that spoke of a buildup of considerable power, as the horn itself became completely concealed beneath the bright lavender light that built up around it, while sparks leapt from the light-obscured horn and danced around the building glow.
Twilight lowered her head, and the light poured forth from out of her horn, into the darkness of the cave which was suddenly illuminated by a bright pink light, the light of the portal. It flared brilliantly for a moment, like a shield, and then disappeared, and darkness reigned once more within.
"I think that should take care of it," Twilight declared. "With luck, the magic that seeped into Remnant from this side of the portal will fade away, now that the connection has been broken."
"And without luck?" Cardin asked.
"Then it won't be able to expand any further than it already has," Twilight assured him.
"So we can't go home that way?" Bon Bon asked.
"We weren't planning on going home anyway," Lyra said.
"No," Bon Bon admitted. "No, I guess we weren't." She paused for a moment, chewing upon her lip. "I guess this is goodbye, then."
Sunset nodded. "So it seems," she said softly. She could not say that she was sorry to see them go; they had never been close, and all the things that Bon Bon had done… it was hard not to conclude that things would have been better without her around.
But then, probably some people would have said the same of Sunset herself.
She walked towards them. "I… I'm sorry that you had to get caught up in… everything. Amber, and the rest. The attack on Vale was probably coming either way, but I wish that you could have just been students for that, instead of… we should have kept our world for ourselves."
"But if you had, then we wouldn't be here," Lyra pointed out. "And I'd still be struggling to be a huntress instead of… well… these things have a way of working out for themselves, don't you think? I mean, I wish Dove was here, and Sky, but they're not, and they never will be. So all we can do now is live the best lives we can and hope that's what they'd want."
Sunset couldn't say that she'd be able to take the loss of Pyrrha in stride that way, but at the same time, she was willing to concede that Lyra's attitude might be a healthier one, even if it didn't appeal to her or seem particularly heroic.
Like everything I've ever done could be described as heroic.
"I hope you find what you're looking for out there," she said.
"We'll certainly give it our best," Lyra declared. She looked at Bon Bon. "Are you ready?"
Bon Bon took a moment, but she nodded. "Let's do this."
They turned away, setting off to the south, side by side, chattering about what they ought to – or wanted to – do first.
Sunset watched them go for a moment, their shadows falling behind them as they walked away, away from Salem, away from the battle for the fate of Remnant, away from danger, away from guilt, away from anything but happiness and one another.
We should all be so lucky.
"Are you ready?" Princess Twilight asked gently. "Princess Celestia is waiting."
“Ready?” Sunset asked. Was she ready? Would she ever be ready? What did 'ready' even mean, anyway? “As ready… as I’ll ever be,” she said. “If you two are.”
“I’m curious,” Cinder declared. “Let’s see this princess of yours, who had such an influence on you.” She smirked. “I feel like I’m about to be introduced to your mother.”
Princess Twilight chuckled. “Well, if you’d all like to follow me.”
The princess led, and the rest followed with the exception of Robyn, who walked almost beside Princess Twilight. Sunset trailed a little behind, and Cinder and Cardin fell a little behind her in turn. The ground over which they walked was not the most beautiful in the whole of Equestria; in fact, it was somewhat barren, dry and dusty.
“You know,” Cardin said, “when you described your home, I was expecting something a little nicer than this.”
“Be patient,” Sunset snapped. “You’ll see something impressive when we get to Canterlot, I guarantee it.”
“Okay,” Cardin murmured sceptically. “I’m just saying, I could have seen all this back home.”
Sunset didn’t dignify that with a response; she just followed Twilight, who said nothing further – perhaps because she was worried about making Sunset even more nervous – as she led them across the barren land and around a low hill to where Princess Twilight’s friends were waiting, along with the Equestrian Starlight Glimmer – Sunset recognised them all by their hair and eye colours – along with Princess Celestia.
She was exactly as Sunset remembered her. She was more than Sunset remembered her. Her golden crown, the necklace that she wore, they both gleamed brighter in the afternoon sunshine than they did in Sunset’s memory; her coat was shimmering samite and gleamed as though she carried within herself the lightness of the sun which she commanded in ways that she did not in Sunset’s memory. Her lustrous mane danced behind her with an airy lightness that, in her mind, it had ceased to possess.
Had her memory grown so dull, to be so unreflective of the thing that she recalled? Were her recollections like an old painting, left to decay upon a gallery wall until what was once a masterpiece became a grubby, dark, almost incomprehensible thing that captured none of that which it claimed to depict? Had she forgotten so much in these six years?
Or was she only now capable of seeing Princess Celestia as she truly was?
Whatever the truth, the sight of her froze Sunset in her tracks. Cinder and Cardin drew almost level with her before they stopped, but Sunset barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed upon Princess Celestia.
The princess did not meet her eyes at first; instead, she looked at Robyn Hill. “Robyn, we are very glad to see you safely returned; doubtless, the folk of Mantle will be overjoyed to have you back with them.”
Robyn bowed her head. “No less glad and overjoyed than I am, and will be, to be returned and to return,” she said. “I should have remembered that my royal guard days were behind me before I went poking my nose into dark caves.” She chuckled. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
Princess Celestia raised one hoof to her mouth as a little titter of laughter escaped. “Though you are no longer my captain, it is good to see you safe again. Twilight, is the portal closed?”
“Yes, it is,” Twilight confirmed. “We won’t be seeing any more monsters wandering over from Remnant.”
“Thank you, Twilight,” Princess Celestia said, “though I daresay that it is less than we deserve, considering the evils that our ancestors banished to Remnant from this world, nevertheless, we must look to the wellbeing of our own subjects; from what I know of these monsters… it is good to know that we will suffer no more of them.”
Then, and only then, with other matters dealt with, did Princess Celestia turn her gaze on Sunset Shimmer.
And Sunset… said nothing. Her silver tongue was turned to base lead in the presence of the princess, her throat robbed of all power of coherent speech so that only a wordless gurgling noise emerged.
What did she say? What could she say? What was she supposed to say? It was one thing to write to the princess in a magic book, but it was quite another to stand in her presence, to have come back to Equestria, to see her in person. What was she supposed to say? Where could she even begin?
It might seem absurd, that she could write but could not speak, but the pages formed a wall between the two of them, even as the pen provided a means to reach over that wall, or perhaps to fashion a chink in it through which they could pass messages. Now, in person, a different wall stood between them: a wall of what had happened the last time they stood face to face like this.
And of everything that had happened to Sunset since.
Yes, she had told Celestia a lot of it, but again, that was through the wall.
Now, that wall had been torn down, and another had taken its place.
This was what she had wanted, this was what she had needed. Now it had arrived.
And she didn’t know what to do with it.
Princess Celestia walked towards her, every step delicate and graceful, her gilded slippers barely seeming to disturb the ground on which she walked.
She cast a shadow over Sunset.
Sunset stared up at her, and again, the wordless gurgle emerged from her throat.
What do I say? What do I say?!
And then Celestia swooped down upon her, bending down to wrap her forehoof around Sunset’s back and craning her neck around her so that their cheeks were touching lightly.
The feathers of Princess Celestia’s wings, as white as snow and as soft as eiderdown, enveloped her.
“Welcome home, Sunset Shimmer,” Princess Celestia whispered to her.
Sunset closed her eyes. She felt so warm, she felt so comfortable, she felt so… so safe.
Here she was in no danger, here she could rest, here she would not be judged, here she was welcome. Here she was loved.
Tears sprang at the corners of Sunset’s eyes. “I… I’m home.”