He doesn’t care.
Starlight was hiding in her room, sitting at her desk, her head on her hooves. It was the first place that had come to mind. Certainly it was better than hiding in her office at the school, so she could be surrounded by the evidence of all she had accomplished there. All that she was throwing away, because she simply couldn’t…
He doesn’t care.
His face had been calm and composed as he’d expressed his regrets that she was leaving. Regal. Princely. Politic. An act.
He doesn’t care.
She’d thought the wedding was the worst. That it would slowly get better from there. But every day, every hour, was so much worse than the last.
After today, after seeing his face…
She didn’t think she could last until the end of the semester.
“I’ll… move in with Trixie,” she muttered to herself. “At least until summer break. I can manage that long. I’ll only run into Dusk on occasion. And Sunburst…”
Sunburst would see her every day at the school.
The knock at her door made her jump up from her bed.
“Starlight?”
It was Sunburst. Not the worst option, but certainly not the best. None of this was his fault. It wasn’t Sunburst’s fault that she was in love with Sunburst’s husband.
“Starlight, I’m coming in.”
There was something bold in his voice, something uncharacteristically confident. She nearly said no, nearly sealed the door shut with her magic. But she didn’t, and it opened. Sunburst slipped inside, leaving the door ajar behind him. Concern was naked in his voice.
“Starlight? Can we talk for a moment?”
She looked up from her hooves, saying nothing. He clearly took that as permission, stepping into the room and sitting down on her unmade bed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice how much you were suffering before now,” he began softly, and she cringed.
“Sunburst!” Panic flooded her chest, clenching her heart with acidic claws. “I didn’t… I never… I’m so…”
“Starlight, wait.” He held up a hoof. “It’s not your fault. And I’m not angry. I couldn’t possibly be. You’re my best friend.”
“But I’m in love with your husband,” she whimpered. He nodded and smiled.
“I know. That part, I’ve known for a while.”
“You…” Starlight felt sick to her stomach. “Did everypony know?”
“I don’t know who else knew. But it was pretty obvious to me, at least.”
“So Dusk knows?” That would be the worst.
Sunburst hesitated, then stood, walking over to her desk. “Stand up, Starlight. There’s something I need to show you. Something really important.” He sighed in frustration. “It was supposed to be later. We’re kinda rushing things, but neither of us realized things had gotten this bad for you.” He huffed. “Some kind of best friend I am.”
Slowly she stood, watching his face. He looked nervous, worried, but somehow confident. It made no sense. He gently nudged her in the direction of the door with one hoof.
“This way, Starlight. I want to show you what we’ve been working on in the lab. It’s not quite finished yet, but it looks like we’re out of time.”
The walk through the hallway of the castle was a nightmare of awkwardness. Every few steps she sent a nervous glance back at Sunburst, who smiled gently at her. What could possibly be going on in his head? What was happening? She’d just confessed to being jealous of her very best friend, for Celestia’s sake. And he was taking it this calmly?
It made no sense, and she hated not having an explanation.
“I have to know why. Why don’t you hate me?” Her voice sounded pathetic.
“Starlight. Stop.”
She turned to look at Sunburst. He was paused in the hallway, his hooves shuffling nervously on the carpet. He reached up with one hoof to adjust his glasses; it was a nervous tic that Starlight was long used to.
“Look, you and I both know I’m not the best when it comes to social interaction and nuance, right?” Sunburst looked away.
Despite the situation, Starlight gave a little snort of laughter at the understatement, but there was no humor in it. She wished she were anywhere else.
“Yeah,” he continued. “So when I confessed to you that I had the world’s biggest crush on Prince Dusk Shine Himself, I was over the moon when you said you’d help me ask him out.” Sunburst sighed, glancing up at her. “I was so excited and terrified I didn’t notice what you were hiding.”
He took a few steps forward, hesitating, watching her reaction. Starlight didn’t move, and he wrapped his hooves around her.
“If it weren’t for you, I never would have tried. You made Dusk and me happen. And even if you weren’t my best friend, I’d love you forever for bringing us together. But why, Starlight?”
“Because I’m not good enough for him,” she whispered. She didn’t want him to hug her. She didn’t want him to comfort her. His hoof around her felt like fire. “And both of you deserve to be happy.”
“And you don’t?”
“It doesn’t matter what I deserve!” Starlight screamed, pushing him away. “I’m a felon, he’s a prince! You… you were pure. Untainted. He needed somepony who wasn’t on probation for kidnapping, fraud, and magical assault!”
“Starlight…” Sunburst sighed. “Don’t you think he deserved to make his own choice? With all the information?”
Starlight turned away, looking at the floor. The pity in Sunburst’s eyes, the naked sympathy, turned her stomach. “Why are you pushing this so hard? You have what you want.”
“Not everything. Um. It’s hard to say. But I can show you. Come to the lab. Please.”
There was desperation in his voice. A pleading that went beyond the words themselves. Starlight wanted to turn and flee. Every second was agony, like she was being dipped in acid, and he wanted her to stay longer? To bathe? But then she met his eyes, and she was lost.
“Okay. Let’s… just get this over with. Then I’ll go.”
“That’s all I ask.” Naked relief filled his tone. He stepped in front, leading the way. Starlight followed behind. She felt exhausted.
Just a bit longer, and she could flee. Hide in Trixie’s wagon. Trixie wouldn’t even ask questions. And Starlight knew where Trixie hid her hard cider.
The door to the lab loomed like the gate of Tartarus; somehow both forbidding and terrifyingly final. One more door, one more barrier, then all of this could be over. Starlight could mourn and then move on. She didn’t even slow at the door, she pushed herself forward, her horn lighting to open the door, perhaps a little too violently.
Fluttershy was there, startled into the air by the slamming door. Dusk was there, waiting with blatant anxiety in his eyes. The entire room was spotless, a miracle of cleaning and organizing, especially in the short time since Starlight had seen it last.
Behind them both was the only object left on the floor: a tarp, the same one that had been there earlier. Only now Starlight could see something glowing from underneath, regular pulses flashing in yellow and magenta light.
“Oh good, you came,” Fluttershy said, as Dusk stared at Starlight. She tried to read his expression, but it was impossible. A billion emotions seemed at war on his expressive face, his eyes darting nervously between her and Sunburst. His muzzle slid back and forth between a hopeful smile and a worried frown.
Fluttershy landed, furling her wings, and shot Dusk a significant look. “I’ll leave you three to yourselves, then.”
“You could stay?” Dusk said uncertainly, but Fluttershy shook her head.
“This is a private moment.” She trotted towards the door, before pausing next to Starlight. She leaned in, her lips close to Starlight’s ear as she whispered. “Remember, it’s okay to reach for the things you want sometimes. You don’t always have to sacrifice for those you love. You can be happy, too.”
It was cryptic, and Starlight turned to watch her go, her mouth open, ready to question. But Fluttershy merely smiled over her shoulder, before closing the door behind her.
But she didn’t have time to wonder. Dusk cleared his throat, and she turned back towards him. Sunburst stood alongside her. She felt his hoof around her shoulder; it was weak and tentative, as if he wasn’t sure if she’d even accept a hug right now.
Maybe she should have shoved him off, like she had earlier. But no matter what else was happening, she wanted the comfort of her best friend right now. Starlight leaned into the hug, and Dusk beamed.
“I… I might have made a mistake,” Dusk began carefully, one forehoof rubbing the front of his other. “When you said you wanted to leave. I…” He sucked in a quick breath and shook his head. “Horseapples. I’m doing this all wrong. It’s just this was all so sudden and I was caught off guard, I had so many plans but I didn’t realize you were hurting and now it might be too late only Rarity said it might not be so here we are and…”
“Dusk, love?” Sunburst interjected. “You’re panicking. Slow down and just show her, okay?”
“O-okay. Um, Starlight, I want you to know that no matter what happens next, I care about you. If you need to leave, I’ll support you no matter what you choose. You will always be my friend, even if life takes us in different directions.” His horn glowed, and he tugged at the edge of the tarp. “I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that, though. I really don’t want you to go. And maybe this can convince you to stay.”
With one last yank, he pulled the tarp back. Starlight slipped out of Sunburst’s hooves and stepped forward, her curiosity overcoming her trepidation.
Underneath the tarp was possibly the most intricate and complex magical circle she had ever seen. What appeared at first to be random patterns, on closer inspection turned out to be a dozen levels of fractal repetition, each set of circles smaller than the last until she could barely make out the precise markings. On top of that, the whole thing pulsed in steady intervals with alternating gold and magenta magic: Dusk’s and Sunburst’s magic, respectively.
It was a feat only possible with the most intricate magical control; there was maybe only a hoofful of ponies alive that could manage something this incredible. And one of them was standing proudly right next to her.
“What… what spell is this?”
“Something new. Something beautiful. Sunburst came up with it. This whole thing was his idea.” Dusk’s voice dripped with pride.
“But what does it do?”
“See if you can figure it out,” Dusk, ever the teacher, motioned to the circle. “Start at the biggest circle, ignore the repeated patterns, and see if you can intuit it.”
Starlight wanted to be annoyed. But the scholar in her, the educator, appreciated the challenge. She tried to tune out the obstructive fractals and the repeating pattern, instead following the overarching design.
“This… this is Starswirl’s time spell. But not. What…” her eyes flickered to Sunburst. “You changed Starswirl’s spell?”
“Changed its purpose, while building off the original design,” Sunburst whispered. “Don’t worry, I consulted him on the process. He was quite supportive of my idea.”
“I…” Starlight followed the arcane ley lines, her mind buzzing with memories. “This is different than the disaster I cast. Nopony could misuse this. There’s not even a usable portal, just…”
“A mirror,” Sunburst said. “A glimpse into alternate worlds, other realities. Other times and places, what could have been and what is, elsewhere.”
“But why? And why the infinite replication?”
“Why? Whose magic is powering the spell, Starlight?”
It was obvious from the color patterns. “It’s a melding of both of your essences. So when you touch the circle, you should be able to see visions of both of your lives, in other realities. Times you spend together in worlds you’ve never seen before.”
“Correct!” Dusk beamed, before pulling a small drawstring pouch off the table. “Only there’s something missing. Starlight, when we first became friends, you trusted me with this. I have never used it once. And today, if you say yes, I’d like to use it all up.”
He opened the pouch and floated out a small stoppered vial. The turquoise liquid inside bubbled and frothed, as if straining against its confines. Starlight’s heart thudded in her chest.
“My… my quintessence.”
It was her magical signature. The essence of who she was, the tether that kept her bound to her past and her sins.
“If I add this to the circle, the spell will forever be attuned to the three of us. Every time you touch the circle, you will be able to see a glimpse. Any of a hundred thousand lives where the three of us…” Dusk gulped. The rest came out as a whisper. “Where the three of us are together.”
Together.
“You can’t mean…”
Together.
The warmth that filled her was alien. Starlight wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t deserve…
Together.
“He means exactly what it sounds like, Starlight,” Sunburst said from next to her.
Starlight was speechless. She fell back onto her haunches, staring at the pulsing light. Yellow-magenta. Yellow-magenta. Over and over.
Together.
“It could be three.” Dusk’s words were an invitation; an open door to a future Starlight didn’t even dare dream of.
She stared at them both in turn, as Sunburst looked at Dusk and nodded. Slowly, carefully, with his eyes on Starlight the entire time, he carefully pulled out the stopper and levitated the quintessence above the circle. Dusk then glanced at Starlight. He was waiting, she realized. Her throat was dry. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. So she nodded.
He upended the vial over the center of the circle. Glittering, glowing liquid magic spilled out slowly, floating more than falling, spreading over the circle as it pulsed in time with the magic. It sparkled down, flowing into the chalk lines.
At first, the flickers were weak. One pulse for every three or four of the others. But it grew stronger and stronger, until the heart of her magic beat in time with the others. Yellow-magenta-turquoise. Yellow-magenta-turquoise.
“Touch your hoof on the circle. It’s perfectly safe,” Sunburst said. “You’ll see.” He laughed. “Just don’t try any thaumo-molecular analysis spells.”
“Of course not,” she muttered. “That’d make the whole thing blow up.” Dusk blushed and rubbed the back of his head with one hoof. She resolved to tease him about it later, but now…
Starlight’s hoof moved almost all on it’s own. She touched the edge of the circle, and the whole world washed away.
Starlight Glimmer dashed through the snow, giggling like a tiny foal as Sunburst sprinted after her. His face was dripping with slush and bits of snowball, and floating behind him was an entire volley of frosty projectiles. But the grin on his face was genuine.
“Starlight? Sunburst?” Dusk’s voice came from an open window, at the castle’s second floor. “Come inside and I’ll make hot cocoa.”
Starlight jerked her hoof back. For an instant it had been totally real. She’d felt the easy familiarity of a long-standing relationship. But she needed to see more. She reached out again.
Sunburst and Starlight (and Starlight was a he! Starbright Shine, a stallion!) stood at the end of a red carpet, dressed in tuxedos. The two of them were blushing furiously, while a gray mare with a cello began the opening strain of a wedding march. Sunburst leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
“It’s finally happening!” he whispered, and Starbright hushed him just in time to see Dusk in the most resplendent, Rarity-original perfect white wedding dress. Only it was a mare Dusk. She blushed, tucking a lock of her ringletted mane behind part of her royal tiara before she took the first hoofstep onto the red carpet.
Starlight felt out of breath as she stepped away again. In shock, she looked back and forth between Dusk and Sunburst. “I was… I was a stallion. And you were a mare!” she pointed a hoof at Dusk.
“Yeah,” Dusk chuckled. “It’s kinda odd how often our genders are mixed about in these alternate realities. We got used to it when we were first exploring early versions of the spell.”
“I think you look good either way,” Sunburst whispered. Silently Starlight was inclined to agree. “Twilight Sparkle.”
“Hush, ‘Sunny Day’,” Dusk blushed, waving a hoof. “But go on, Starlight. You can keep looking, if you…”
Starlight moved her hoof into the circle again.
The battlefield was scarred and pitted with a thousand craters, testament to the destructive power of Sombra’s hate. Starlight dashed desperately between them, searching, hoping, praying. Finally she found the remnants of a purple tent, a six-pointed star embroidered on the tattered remains.
“Please be safe, please be safe,” she whimpered, as a new salvo of explosions rained down on them. She barely put up her shield in time, covering herself and the limp forms within the broken tent. “Please please please!”
With her hooves, she yanked back the torn and filthy canvas to reveal the two bodies inside. Her heart pounded, expecting the worst. But their chests were moving. The Prince and the High Wizardess were alive! Breathing!
“I’ll get you out of here safely,” she swore to her two unconscious lovers. “I’ll do it if it kills me. I swear.”
Starlight was breathing hard when she pulled her hoof back. “Woah. Um. Are they… real?”
“As real as we are,” Sunburst said. “But we can’t make contact. The spell doesn’t allow it. We can only watch. I did it that way on purpose.”
“Why build this spell, though?”
“At first, I wanted to know if it would work. If…” Sunburst gulped. “If I could have my best friend in my family. In my… my marriage. I thought I was such a greedy pony. But when I finally was brave enough to suggest it to Dusk…” his eyes glowed with joy. “...I found out he felt the same.”
“I’ve never been the best at expressing myself, you know,” Dusk said. “So when it became clear that you were pushing me and Sunburst together, I was convinced you hadn’t noticed the signals I was trying to put up. I was sure you weren’t interested, so I gave up. And I found something with Sunburst I never thought possible. Something wonderful and beautiful and indescribable. But also incomplete.”
“But… Sunburst is good for you!” Starlight said. “I’m just a felon that got lucky! I’m no match for… for a prince.”
“Use the spell if you have to, Starlight. The three of us were made for each other, I think.” Dusk blushed, and pawed at the floor with his hoof. “Um. That’s unscientific, I know. But I don’t care about anything like that, Starlight. Do you know, in many realities I’m not even an alicorn? Sometimes you are. And no matter what, your past is what brought you to us. You are stronger and better because of what you overcame. And if anybody says differently, I’ll… I’ll banish them!”
He sounded so serious, so earnest, that Starlight had to giggle.
“This was going to be your Hearth’s Warming present, Starlight. But it’s not finished yet,” Sunburst said. “We… we had to move up the schedule a little. We didn’t realize… and it was our fault…”
“We hurt you, Starlight.” Dusk moved over next to her, with Sunburst on the other side. He reached out, his hoof waiting in the air. Asking. Starlight took it, and Dusk pulled her in, wings spreading wide enough for a hug that brought in both of them. “We didn’t know it, but we did. We’re so sorry.”
He stepped back then, and smiled at her. “Starlight. This whole thing was rushed. It went wrong. We wanted it to be romantic. To show you the spell, so you could see that we…” he waved a hoof, encompassing all three of them “...we work. We work beautifully. It didn’t work out that way, but I can’t say I’m too disappointed, as long as we can…” He paused, and grinned, an embarrassed little smirk. “I’m talking in circles. Let me start from the beginning. Starlight, I love you.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against the Starlight’s stunned frozen cheek. “You’re brilliant, you’re brave, you’re so much more creative than I can ever hope to be. You bring light to everypony around you.”
“Starlight, I love you too,” Sunburst said, kissing her other cheek. “Since we were foals, you were by my side. Leaving you to go to school was the darkest period of my life. When you returned to me, when I finally let you back in, I have been happier than I’ve ever been.” His eyes misted as he looked up at Dusk. “You brought me my husband, a gift so precious I can never repay, except perhaps with an invitation.”
Starlight’s heart thudded. She was hearing unbelievable things. Feeling unbelievable things. The warmth of their lips on her cheeks stayed, lingering with a tingle of moisture and affection. The pulse of magic at her hooves
turquoise-yellow-magenta
was a heartbeat of love. It wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. She didn’t deserve…
“There’s one more gift. It was supposed to be a part of the spell. We were going to tie it to the spell.” Sunburst fiddled with his glasses. “We still will, if you say yes. But once we put this in the circle, we can transfer the spell into it, creating a permanent artifact. A monument to what we share, what we have shared and will share across a thousand lifetimes. Something you can use, whenever you want, to remind yourself that you are loved.”
“What are you…”
Sunburst reached into one of the pockets of his cape, retrieving a small box. Starlight felt dizzy. Sunburst opened the box.
The horn ring was pure orichalcum. It was woven, three strands of shimmering silvery gold twisting around each other in a braid. It shone with the glow of the pulsing magic. The purity of potential.
This is…
“I…”
This is…
“But…”
This is…
“How can you…”
This is…
Sunburst set the box gently on the floor in front of Starlight, and then reached out with a hoof, brushing her cheek. On the other side, Dusk nuzzled her neck.
“We should have done this sooner. Starlight, will you join with us?”
Starlight carefully lifted the ring out of the box, feeling the weight of infinite potential. She did it with her hoof, not her magic. She felt the coolness of the metal on the frog of her hoof, and let the ring slide back and forth across the sensitive skin. Then, before she could second guess herself any longer, she thrust the ring towards the circle.
The magic pulsed brighter, flowing in a stream of tendrils into the softly glowing golden ring.
turquoise-yellow-magenta.
It seemed to quiver in her hoof, then slowly floated into the air above the magical circle, pulsing in time with the carefully drawn lines, spinning gently.
Starlight looked at the two stallions with tears in her eyes. The room blurred, and their smiles were impossibly warm and bright. Suddenly they were all pressed together, both holding her, pressing their warmth and their comfort against her.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Dusk reached out with his magic and pulled the ring over to float between them.
Each of the three woven bands gently glowed with a different aura.
turquoise-yellow-magenta.
Starlight carefully drew in a long breath.
“Yes.”