The next day, Cadence began in a wonderful mood. It wouldn’t last long: it was just the stock and ammunition she needed to get through another twenty-four hours. Like any seasoned veteran, she knew she’d end the day with a lot less. One day, she’d run out.
On her walk to school, she dropped by the training field. Coach Shining Armor was there early, along with his teammates. This time, he didn’t seem so keen on bellowing.
“So,” he said with breezy if loud nonchalance, “let’s try for the Thunderstreet Trident Technique, and see how it goes. Cherry Fizzy, you’re on left wing…”
Several seconds of tactics followed. Then he stood back and watched.
Cadence briefly considered sneaking up and covering his eyes again, but she figured the straightforward approach would be better today.
“Switching it up today?” she said.
He didn’t even react; they’d met so often he could recite her weekly schedule from memory. “Just something different. Most of the guys didn’t look too hot coming in, so this is a little warmup to get the blood pumping. Nothing strenuous.”
Slyly, Cadence looked sidelong at him. “Aw, that’s too bad. I like you when you’re… strenuous.”
Shining was getting much better at not turning red as a lobster; instead, he shrugged in a gruff, manly way. “It’s just common sense. They’re only human. And a good coach knows how to work with his team.”
He earned a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“Although that said, Caramel’s still getting distracted and Noteworthy insists on a three-by-three tackle feint instead of the more conventional two-way.”
“I’ll… take your word for that.”
“Looking forward to another day at Crystal Prep?”
“It’s early morning, so… yes.”
For the first time in a long time, Shining Armor took her by both shoulders and rewarded her with 100% of his gaze. The last time he’d done that, he’d come within inches of proposing. Not very romantic in the middle of a ballgame, when she’d been holding popcorn.
“You’re going to make Crystal Prep into the greatest school yet,” he said seriously. “I believe in you.”
“Shining!” Giggling, Cadence brushed him off as gently as she could. “I haven’t even fixed the budgeting problems. One step at a time, OK?” After a while of watching Caramel try to run and text at the same time, she added, “But thank you for the vote of confidence. It’s been a while since I heard anything like that.”
“Then it’s only fair you get a double dose, isn’t it?” He grinned. “You’re going to make Crystal Prep –”
“Stop that!” She slapped his arm, but playfully.
Someone coughed behind them. They turned.
“Spearhead!” Shining’s relief popped like a balloon. “Great to see you, buddy! Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about yesterday –”
Yet Spearhead raised a hand as a shield. “It’s OK, bro.”
“No, it’s not OK. I want to say sorry for –”
“It really is OK, bro. If anything, yesterday was a providentialization I needed.” Cadence and Shining’s lips moved whilst they tried to decipher this one. Then Spearhead clapped them both on the shoulders. “I got an epiphany, man! There I was, humilificationed and over-disgraced –”
“Look, I know I was in a bad mood, and I took it out on –”
“– when it pre-occurred to me: Spearhead, I said – it was like the voice of divinity, man – you don’t need the wrong man’s life right now. Your muse a-calls, and what she needs, I deliverates.”
Then he held up – between forefinger and thumb – a ring.
Cadence squealed so loudly the rest of the team looked around in panic. “Spearhead, that’s wonderful news!”
“So I’m ascending to family-mandom,” said Spearhead as solemnly as if he were reading from a holy book, “and that’s when I figure-outed I really wanted to follow my true calling: speedrun art.”
Cadence didn’t squeal at this, but she kept smiling. “Oh. Yes. And you do such… uh…”
She glanced to Shining for support.
“Fascinating hues!” he supplied hastily. “It’ll be a blow to lose you. Sure I can’t persuade you to come back?”
Spearhead drew himself up to his full height, enjoying the long view of his future. “Where the wind blows, kindred spirit…. Where the wind blows…”
He strode out.
Shining turned to Cadence. “What does that mean?”
“I think it means you’ll need a new player. And…” she added, tittering, “…I think I just won a bet.”
Hours later, she was still smiling in her office. Quite a feat, considering the height of her in-tray. And considering who she’d just summoned.
The door shook. Once, twice, thrice.
“Come in,” she said.
The presence poured into the room, flooded over the light, sagged into the visitor’s chair like a dragon upon a hoard. From Peak Sombra, the mountain-of-a-man peered down at her.
To her own surprise, Cadence wasn’t even nervous. Warm, fuzzy feelings still flowed through her like liquid chocolate.
“Ah, Mister Sombra,” she said cheerfully. “I have some good news for you.”
He didn’t stir. He just loomed.
“Since yesterday, I’ve been thinking about your proposal… but not in the way you think. You’re always very committed to looking after the school, yet you’re always so quiet and intense. I’m sure a lot of people are intimidated by that, and I can understand some quite nasty stories might follow.”
Still, he didn’t stir. Still, he just loomed.
“Maybe you don’t mind,” said Cadence, briefly wishing she could read minds. “Maybe you do. But you’ve been working here a long time – under Cinch. I’ve figured it all out. The mystery of the missing mugs, I mean. And I also think it’s about time someone said it.”
The janitor’s eyes narrowed.
And Cadence reached down and pulled out something shiny, which she placed on the table.
His gasp was like a thundercloud stirring. There on the table, faceted and bright and magnificent as a trophy…
“It’s yours,” she said, buffing it theatrically. “I bought it on the way to work. It’s recognition for all your years of hard work and dedication. Let me be the first to say you’ve long since earned it.”
Lovingly, as if in a daze, the janitor picked it up and turned it this way and that. He even paused when he noticed the engraving. His name.
“CRYSTAL MUG…”
“But,” said Cadence warningly – he shot her a sharp look – “I will need the other mugs returned to their rightful places. We’ll say no more about that. But perhaps we could have some sort of yearly reward for janitorial excellence? A trophy? I’m always open for suggestions.”
Mister Sombra regarded her with his usual stoicism.
Then he said, “I WILL CONSIDER THIS…”
He didn’t exactly say “thank you”, but perhaps behind those walls he was just overcome with emotion. Cadence hadn’t been expecting a 180, and she wasn’t going to demand one. She just felt better as his strong presence gradually swept out of the room like the retreating clouds of an awestruck storm.
For now, she went back to drafting financial requests.
The door was still open. After a while, she became aware of some muttering beyond it. One of the voices managed to mutter in a drone, so that was definitely Sugarcoat. It wasn’t hard to guess the rest.
Nonetheless, Cadence pretended to be engrossed in wrangling some financialese into her draft until someone knocked. She looked up. It was Sour Sweet. There was also Lemon Zest’s unmown grass of green hair poking out from the side: she wasn’t completely successful at hiding herself.
Sour Sweet rubbed her arms as if to warm herself up. “Erm… Principal?”
It was as if Cadence were still the dean. “Yes, Sour Sweet?”
“Can we talk?”
Cadence nodded and gestured to the guest chair opposite. She resisted the urge to smile; it might send the wrong message.
Sour Sweet hesitated. It had been a long time.
“I think I understand,” began Cadence, by way of encouragement. “Please, take a seat.”
And Sour Sweet did, hesitantly. Her gaze forced itself to meet Cadence’s, even though the rest of her face wanted nothing to do with it. She seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible.
“It’s about… Twilight,” she confessed.
Cadence heard some of the whispers from beyond the door. Sounded like four voices.
She read the signs: Sour Sweet had suddenly shut down. This was simply unfamiliar territory for her nowadays. It hadn’t always been so.
“I think it’s very brave of you to come forward,” said Cadence gently, and with delight she found the old words coming back like long-lost friends. “And I want you to know that regardless, I’m still on your side, Sour Sweet.”
For a moment, Sour Sweet looked shocked and angry, but then her face carefully shut down again.
“I know it’s been trying,” continued Cadence. “You worked hard to become one of Cinch’s top students, but there was always someone better. Always someone with the higher grades. Someone whose life seemed luckier than yours: loving parents, a brother to help her, and an easy path to success. Someone a bit too 'goody-goody' sometimes, maybe…”
Sunny Flare muttered darkly beyond the doorway, followed by a shush from one of the others.
“…though I think even you missed one detail. Twilight didn’t have any friends. You’ve made plenty of your own. Sometimes, it’s good to remember other people aren’t as perfect as they look.”
Cadence winced; she’d had enough talks with Twilight too. It was amazing, she thought, what went on behind people’s masks. If only they talked to each other…
Nervously, Sour Sweet raised a shaking hand; her voice wobbled as though about to duck for cover. “What if I said all those things I did were… just jokes?”
Just jokes. Cadence had heard that one before. A plethora of responses burned in her throat, but she had to extinguish them because each one required Sour Sweet to still be a pain in the backside. Not like this…
Sour Sweet’s hand fell back to her lap.
One outraged response jumped out of Cadence’s throat and into her mind: Really? So when your mom once said on parents’ day she’d have preferred a Twilight over a Sour Sweet, would it have been better if she’d been joking?
To Cadence’s surprise, Sour Sweet sniffed and wiped her own eyes with an arm. It took her a while to compose herself, and Cadence saw no future in rushing her.
“Can I…” Sour Sweet swallowed the lump in her throat; she hadn’t done that in years either. “Can I… have some help this time?”
Cadence glanced up at the doorway to where Lemon’s hairs still poked out.
“No, no, I meant…” But what Sour Sweet meant seemed beyond her. Once again, she shut down.
Then the penny dropped.
“I’d be delighted,” said Cadence. Time for that smile, she felt. “When would you like? After school today?”
From the doorway came Indigo Zap’s “YEEEEEEEES!” and a sky-punch; Sunny had to drag her back out of sight.
Cadence pretended not to notice. “I’ve got time after school. Is that OK?”
Another beautiful sunset, another end to a long day…
Despite Sour Sweet’s nerves – she was pulling at and stroking her own ponytail as though considering strangling herself with it – Cadence felt the gentle burning of the clouds warming her soul. Times like this, she wished she could burst into an aria, pay tribute to nature. Maybe one day, opera would be an option again…
She put a gentle hand on Sour Sweet’s shoulder. “Here’s a trick that might help.”
And she placed a hand on her chest, breathed in, and let out the breath and her worries with a single decisive sweep.
Sour Sweet nodded. Copied her, somewhat shakily.
They stood outside Canterlot High, near the podium of what had once been their statue until the Friendship Games happened. Students trickled out. Every time the front doors burst open, Sour Sweet gave a jolt.
“It’ll be fine,” whispered Cadence.
“Oh, sure,” said Sour Sweet out of sheer nerves. “Why wouldn’t it be? It’s only been years and years of constant torment…”
Beside her, Sunny reached down and squeezed her hand. Sour Sweet waited for her own shaking to stop before yanking her hand out so she could prove she didn’t really need it. The other Shadowbolts gathered around in silent interest.
Then, the doors opened. Familiar faces came out: Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, then the quiet confidence of Sunset Shimmer, and finally smiling against all expectation and history…
Twilight Sparkle.
Sour Sweet gulped. “OK… H-here I go…”
“You got this, Sour Sweet!” shouted Indigo after her.
“WOOO!” shouted Lemon.
Cadence watched as Sour Sweet approached the knot of friends like a soldier about to be executed – no, more like a lover about to make the confession of a lifetime. The Shadowbolts had thought of themselves as fighters for too long…
“She’s very lucky to have friends like you,” said Cadence.
“Yes,” droned Sugarcoat.
They all watched. Twilight’s friends chatted and skipped and shrugged and laughed and generally seemed a world away from Sour Sweet. Then Twilight looked up – her smile fled briefly – before its generosity returned in full force. Sour Sweet stopped and flinched as though a fist had been raised against her. Then Twilight’s friends noticed. Their expressions were more… conflicted.
Cadence crossed her fingers and bit her lip.
Eventually, Sunset coolly waved the others off… probably making an excuse… and Twilight and Sour Sweet were alone. Twilight looked like she’d found an old friend; Sour Sweet looked like she wanted to go find one at high speed.
Cadence hoped, hoped, hoped…
Sour Sweet began gesturing, wildly flailing, talking to the air next to Twilight, occasionally stopping or pinching her own nose or hitting herself as she fluffed a point. Her speech went on for a while.
“She’s really bad at this,” droned Sugarcoat.
“Well,” said Cadence, “sometimes it’s good enough to show you’re making the effort at all.” She winced as Twilight’s smile turned to twisted confusion. “Even if… the result isn’t… that good.”
Sour Sweet seemed to tire of beating about the bush, because she stamped and growled at the sky before facing Twilight, who uncertainly took a step back. That caught Sour Sweet, who waved her hands placatingly, hugged herself, and took a deep breath.
“Good stage presence, though,” commented Sunny.
They watched as Sour Sweet said something. Cadence could read the lips from here.
I’m… sorry.
Sour Sweet coughed and extended an arm ramrod straight, and Cadence realized some of her mother’s influence had stuck to her like dirt: the poor girl was trying a business-like handshake.
There was a frightened pause.
Relief swept through Cadence as, with a spring, Twilight tackled Sour Sweet in what turned out to be a very Pinkie-Pie-level hug. Sour Sweet had raised her arms in self-defence, and now didn’t seem to know what to do with them.
“She did it! She did it!” hissed Lemon excitedly. The Shadowbolts let out nervous giggles.
They broke apart: Sour Sweet coughed and straightened up. A few more words were shared, with smiles – even if only of relief – and they waved and parted.
Twilight looked up and noticed Cadence watching her.
Cadence beamed and waved back as Twilight’s friends closed in again, much more cheerfully this time. Cadence also caught Sunset’s eye, just for a moment. And in that moment, Cadence felt another weight slough off wonderfully. The scales of the universe, for now, felt as though they were tilting in the right direction.
As soon as Sour Sweet was back in hearing range, the Shadowbolts swarmed around her. Indigo slapped her on the back so hard she staggered, whilst Lemon danced a little jig around her. Sugarcoat and Sunny contrived to look as unruffled and cool as a hurried “Not bad at all…” would allow.
Cadence placed a reassuring hand on Sour Sweet’s shoulder. “How does it feel?”
Sour Sweet screwed up her face. “Weird. But… nice.”
“Let’s do this again sometime!” yelled Indigo.
At this, Cadence decided to steer things due Sensible. “Not so fast. Let’s just take this one day at a time, OK?”
Sour Sweet wiped her brow.
Alongside and around her, the Shadowbolts followed Cadence on the long walk away from Canterlot High, away from the excited chatter of Twilight’s new friends, and away from Twilight’s last-minute “call me” sign – which caught Cadence off-guard for a moment, but which she nodded at gracefully on her way past. Twilight was certainly picking up a lot from her new friends.
“So are we, like, back to normal now, or is this a new normal?” said Lemon.
As if Cadence hadn’t been caught out enough today… “I’m sorry?”
“Well, that was neat and all, but then we go back to normal, right? Only a better normal?”
Cadence tried this out a few times in her head until it clicked into something. “You know, Lemon, that’s actually very wise.”
Sunny sidled up to Cadence, pouting innocently. “So… I heard you and her brother were…”
Despite herself, Cadence felt the young blush rushing to her face eagerly. “Not just yet.”
Nonetheless, the other Shadowbolts were aflutter at the unspoken words.
“Rock on, Principal!”
“Congratulations.”
“YEEAAHHH! WEDDING BELLS A-RINGIN’!”
“Seems a logical match.”
“Thanks,” said Cadence. “Although I hear Jet Set and Upper Crust are an item now too?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah,” said Sunny, launching into a long gossip session which completely succeeded at steering talk away from Cadence and Shining Armor.
Among the girls, the nervous face of a younger Sour Sweet peered back from years gone by. “So… what happens next?”
Cadence’s mind paused.
What could happen next? She’d go home and spread the good news, and then she’d wake up and come back and find the scales, while slightly lighter, still heavily lopsided. There was still all the paperwork and doubts and leaking funds in the Cinch-shaped hole she was trying to fill. There was still the fact that Sour Sweet had a… particular family to go back to. And there was probably going to be a lot of fuss for the upcoming wedding, and old friends’ address books to find, and other stuff she hadn’t remembered yet…
She tried the breathing trick again. It didn’t solve everything. But she looked at the sunset, and suddenly the harsh and distant fire became a reflection in calm waters.
“Well,” she said, breathless with excitement, “now it’s on to the next challenge!”
Sour Sweet grimaced. “You mean there’s more?”
Cadence knew what she was thinking. “Oh, you can always take it slowly if you like. Ask Twilight’s friends if they want to meet up sometime. And you’ll always have help whenever you ask.”
“Tch, right.” Sour Sweet looked away before the blush betrayed her. Even now, her fear resisted.
“What I find,” said Cadence, grinning at the imagined wink in the sky, “is that the best things in life are always worth the challenge…”