//------------------------------//
// 15. The Prodigal Sun 
// Story: Empathy for the Devil 
// by MarvelandPonder 
//------------------------------//





Sunset Shimmer savoured the fact that nobody planned her life to lead to this. Her feet tangled with her girlfriend’s in the strips of sunrise yawning through the window onto the edge of her bed. A leather jacket stretched across the floor. Glasses rested on the bedside table. No matter how the Fates plotted or schemed⁠, some small, smug side of Sunset doubted anything they could ever come up with would compare to being here, now. In a moment she never thought she could choose for herself.

Who could’ve known? Up until a short while ago, Sunset herself probably couldn’t talk. That prodigious strategic mind of hers would have sold herself short. Steered her away from choosing any relationships whatsoever. Planning parts of her now undefined future in parallel with anyone at all would’ve been a little hard to schedule in exile. 

She wouldn’t have guessed how soft Twilight’s skin would feel to the touch. How hot their thighs would become laced together. How the weight of Twilight’s head, tucked into the crook of Sunset’s neck, would slow her breathing down to gentle rises, and steady falls. Hands sunk between the still undone buttons on their few items of clothing. She left a kiss on Twilight’s forehead who shifted just so she could hold Sunset’s body closer to hers.

They’d fallen asleep mostly disentangled, or so Sunset could’ve sworn. But either sometime in the seas of night, or at some point in the harbours of early morning, they found each other again. Who cuddled into who first would remain a mystery. 

No matter how on earth or Equestria she got here, Sunset allowed herself time to just watch her girlfriend sleep⁠—to take in the galaxy swirls of her bedhead and the tender peace of catching that genius mind at rest⁠—but, eventually, her smile slipped from her face. 

Decoupling (despite the heart-tugging little whine from her girlfriend), Sunset swung her legs off the bed’s edge in her Daring Do emblem-patterned boxers. She grabbed her geode off the nightstand and gave Scruffers, who’d slept towards the end of the bed, a quick snuggle. The cool of her slumbering apartment didn’t stop her from shuffling on flannel sleep-pants and a baseball tee⁠—too lazy to bother with the belt and bra mingling with Twilight’s argyle sweater vest on the floor. Tight jeans could wait. For now, she crept in the dusk on careful feet downstairs. 

Sliding up the window, Sunset clambered out onto the fire escape. 

In the days following everything that happened at CHS, Sunset hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Times like last night gave her a distraction for a bit, but... 

Not for long.

Ever since, she found herself searching for shadows in the sunrise.

Canterlot City was enjoying an unseasonable warmth. Pleasantly cool for a heat snap, which no one expected to last long with the real winter right around the corner. For now, icy telephone wires dripped. The ancient asphalt of Blood Moon Crescent bore new cracks. Sunlight seared the downtown skyline as summer clouds, unconcerned by the law of calendars, breezed above. 

Not bad for the bad side of town.

The rift in space-time gave the sky a new dimension: a glimpse into the void of space. Distant purple galaxies swirled at the heart of magic itself. Star-gazing while watching the sunrise felt a little like stealing a sneak-peek at the strings in the patchwork of the multiverse. Earth finally looked like how she felt all the time, she’d had her heart in two universes for years. Now the world could empathize. 

A flock of birds soared past the rift in v-formation, the phoenix leading blue jays.  

Leaning on the fire escape railing, Sunset settled her hands onto the harsh, wrought iron chill. There was still some comfort knowing her mom’s sunrise was happening somewhere at the same time, but right now, it was a cold one. Sunrise and sunset had the deepest shadows so part of her was still waiting for a shadow deep enough to see those green eyes peering out. 

She hadn’t realized how long she’d been out there until she heard the window slide open at her back. “Sunset?”

Sunset turned to see her quizzical girlfriend waiting in the window. “Oh. Morning.”

“What are you doing out there? Is it even safe?” She eyed the bolts clinging the structure to the brick suspiciously. All the wirework and mechanical engineering back in her lab probably made this fire escape appear pretty pisspoor. 

Sunset’s eyes drifted back toward the shadows as she shrugged.

“Are you coming back to bed soon?”

“Hm?” It took her a second to pull her attention from the cool-tone shadows of the alleyway below. The words helpfully played back in her head, as if catching up to her. As tempting as that was, Sunset shook her head as her eyes made rounds around the city streets.  “Oh, no, sorry if I woke you, babe. You can go back to sleep.”

That was that. Or so she assumed. 

Instead, a pair of pajamaed arms wrapped around her unarmoured middle. The warmth of a sleepy girlfriend in a thin sleeptop pressed against her back. “Mmph, up so early.”

Sunset leaned back into her, appreciating the heat. “It’s a beautiful sunrise,” she said, which wasn’t a lie. The sky dealt in cherry pinks, oranges, and purples. A hell of an afterglow. “Now this beats Le Grand’s.”

There was a bit of humour in Twilight’s voice. “Better than a janitor’s closet, for sure, but you’re not usually up before you’ve slammed the snooze button six or seven⁠ times. Oh! By the way!” She perked up like she’d caught a whiff of the coffee brewing at the small café next to the dry cleaner’s across the street. “I totally forgot to mention! I fixed your alarm clock for you.” 

Maybe Sunset was sleepier than she’d thought. She blinked. “This… this morning?”

“Oh, pfft no. I can’t do science in my sleep. I’m not that good.” Twilight, concerningly, muttered the word yet. “I finished a few days ago. Timber said you hurled it across the room in a fit of sleepy rage?” 

Sunset squinted. “Oh yeah…”

In true nerd fashion, Twilight readjusted her glasses. “He snuck it out when I asked if I could tinker with it. Nothing too crazy, I promise.” She crossed her heart and stuck a cupcake in her eye, the way Pinkie Pie intended. “I just replaced the duct-tape with reinforced titanium alloy, rubber exterior, and an automatic, time-sensitive snooze crescendo functionality. I call it Sunset-proof!”

“Tcht, you didn’t have to do that,” she said, but a note of appreciation betrayed her.

“Happy to. Possibly even a little too happy...” Twilight tittered, twirling a curl around her finger. “I was so worried about you, I just needed to do something! And I knew you’d say it’s ‘not your job to fix up my apartment, Twilight, we talked about this’ and it’s not like it would solve what was really going on with you but⁠—” 

Sunset kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Sparky.”

Eyes half-lidded, Sunset dearly enjoyed watching her girlfriend get all flustered. Twilight raised a hand, fingers brushing where Sunset’s lips had just been. “Oh, heh. Wow… I missed that,” she burbled. Then she worked to get her wits about her again, and covered Sunset’s hand with her own. “You won’t need an alarm clock if you can’t sleep. Are you okay?”

Sunset’s brows drew together, looking for language. She faced Twilight more directly. The sunrise light halved their faces. “I’m not sure, honestly. We’re safe, nothing woke me up, but...” Sunset sighed, shutting her eyes. Still felt weird to say, but she had to try. “On a scale of yes to no, I guess I’m a little not okay.”

Cracking her eyes open, she found Twilight’s tender smile wasn’t anxious or pitying. “Oh good,” she said, shoulders relaxing. Only for her eyes to flare. “Oh that sounds wrong. Not that I’m happy you’re going through something, I’m so sorry, it’s just… thanks for telling me. I don’t know, it’s really nice to see you in touch with your feelings.”

Sunset’s cheeks heated up like the atmosphere preparing for the day. She rubbed her neck. “New look for me, huh?”

Twilight laughed. Although Sunset got the sense it wasn’t at her. After ensuring it could hold her, she took a careful seat on a rung of the angled ladder leading up to the platform above. “Not to me.” 

With her hair done up in a messy bun like that, she looked an awful lot like she did right after the Friendship Games. Back when the Rainbooms all went out for milkshakes with the girls from Crystal Prep, the winners circle. Twilight had nearly collapsed from exhaustion on the spot, but she wouldn’t let Sunset take her home. She said she had to see what more there was. 

So, Sunset slung Twilight’s arm around her shoulders to carry her weight. And she promised to show her.

That day felt so long ago now. 

There was a faraway fondness on her girlfriend’s face. “I was in awe of you. Charismatic, down to earth, a good listener,” she told Sunset, who’d taken a seat on the window pane to listen attentively. “When I first transferred to CHS, I was so overwhelmed. There was so much to learn about friendship, and so many people I really didn’t want to mess things up with. Most of the time, I was sure I would. 

“But then, I had you. You stuck by me and stuck up for me. I don’t know if you could tell, but hearing that you’d been a demon once too meant the world to me.”

All those talks under the bleachers, whispered in the library, over steaming mugs⁠...

Twilight raised her chin. “You gave me hope and I know for a fact I wasn’t alone. One could say I’m biased⁠—you saved me.” Her smile twisted up. “I’ll never forget that beautiful angel reaching out her hand. But I’m not the only one. Those lucky enough to know you feel the same way, and those that aren’t?” She rose from her seat.

Twilight Sparkle gestured toward Canterlot City rising, as it always had and always would do, to meet a strange new dawn. “Everyone’s going to see what I’ve seen in you all along.”

Heartbeat biting her chest, Sunset’s voice came out softer. “What?”

“Confidence,” Twilight promised, and took one of Sunset’s hands in hers, just like Sunset had once done for her. “I love that about you. Most of the time it takes so much for you to share your past with other people, but when someone’s struggling⁠, without even thinking—” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that! You open up your heart to make someone else feel a little less alone. It’s amazing!”

As her girlfriend helped her to her feet, Sunset had to give it to her: that was a compliment she had to take. Feeling all warm inside, she couldn’t come up with a single objection. She squeezed both of Twilight’s hands. “Thank you.”

The way Twilight lit up when Sunset just out and out accepted a damn compliment made her want to sweep her off her feet and climb back up to bed for round 3. “I’ve always admired that about you,” Twilight told her, sunup casting soft pinks across her cheeks. “Quite frankly, I find confidence very sexy.”

Synapses connected via electrical current firing off in a full blown brain blast. Sunset barked a laugh. “That’s what Timber and I have in common? Ohhhhh, I’ve been wondering what drove you wild about both of us!”

Twilight squawked, “You’ve⁠⁠—what?” 

“No, it all makes sense now.” Sunset grinned as it all came together. “My bad girl flair doesn’t exactly check the same boxes as his whole woodsy nerdlinger schtick. We’ve got different body types, too, so I knew it couldn’t be my sweet six pack.” She patted the softness pushing into her flannel waistband. Last night had proven Twilight could thoroughly appreciate a woman’s curves, if there was ever any doubt. Flicking up an eyebrow, Sunset smirked while appraising her. “Confidence, huh?”

The sunrise spread across Twilight’s cheeks to pinken the tips of her ears. “O-oh, um, aheh, yeah. I don’t know! I’m not used to having much of it myself⁠—well, outside of a laboratory or a classroom. I liked seeing Timber own what a goofball he is, even when it made me want to sock him one. And I also love how dauntless you are⁠.” As she spoke, Sunset’s eyes dropped to their hands fondly. “You’re so casual about it⁠—you make it look easy. It’s probably why all of that self-loathing took me by surprise.”

Their eyes met. The dawning light had softened their features. 

Twilight sighed, “Sunny, I’m so sorry I missed how much you were struggling. My law of trouble magnetism theory didn’t help, did it? I should’ve known you were hurting and done something sooner.”

“You’re not the mind-reader here. I didn’t tell you. Besides, you still caught on and called me on my bullshit.” Fire crackled in her cheeks. I thought about marrying you when you threw me an intervention. She elected not to go there (yet). 

Instead, Sunset pushed back her hair. “Point is I seriously like that in a girl. That, and confidence now that you mention it. That’s why I fell so hard for you after the Friendship Games. You had to accept yourself and fight your demons in front of the whole world. That kind of brave? Goddess level hot.”

“Then it’s decided,” Twilight murmured, clearly trying very hard to not stumble over her words or succumb to the Look that Sunset was giving her. “Self-love is sexy.”

“Oh, the sexiest.”

“Total turn on.”

The two of them shared the goofiest, most rebellious giggles. 





Last night all their fumbling, stupid, wonderful lack of grace, the clear and loving communication they’d developed together really came in handy. Reading each other, knowing how to speak up about what to try and what to not and, somehow, even discovering these adventurous new sides to each other still felt like them. Their friendship, their love. Nothing changed, in the best way.

And holy hellhounds was Twilight handsy. Also super horny all the time? That had been a nice surprise. Sunset had always thought she’d be the frisky one⁠ (it would be fair to say Sunset was just as incorrigible, with her roaming, rough kisses). Damn, okay, she thought. Good to know...

Sunset would be a hot-faced liar if she tried to pretend flashes of the last night weren’t on her mind (and on her lips, on her skin, on her… elsewhere). She was savouring it, really. Especially in the presence of this brave, intelligent girl she felt lucky to call her girlfriend. Twilight had this twinkle in her eyes, considering her. “Well, let the record show, you were an excellent first. I couldn’t imagine anyone in your place.”

“Likewise, princess,” she said, winking. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you with all that Leader of the Rainbooms noise, but I did, I shouldn’t have. That was so unfair.”

“Apology accepted,” Twilight said. “I like the nickname, it’s still so sweet. The pressure? Not so much. Besides, personally speaking, I’d rather follow the real leader of the Rainbooms.”

Sunset laughed, mostly at herself. “Your funeral.” 

She meant it as a joke, but saying it out loud sent her heart plummeting toward the pavement. Sunset grimaced. “You wouldn’t be the first…”

Twilight’s eyebrows settled over her eyes. She held onto her torso tighter.

Fidgeting with her hands over the edge of the railing, Sunset let the early morning quiet reign. “So I’m the leader. Maybe I can be a good one most of the time, but when it counts, I don’t know if I can trust myself. To make choices.” She raised her head to see the human world stretching out before her. The sparkling cityscape. “This no destiny thing is so damn new to me. I like it, but I don’t know if I’m good at it.”

For a little bit, Twilight took that in, just holding onto her. “Do you have to be?”

“What do you mean?”

Twilight rubbed her back where her wings had been three days prior when everything happened at Canterlot High. “No one needs you to be perfect, Sunset. Not even you’re an angel all the time. You turned it down, didn’t you? When you… you know…”

Sunset suppressed the rebuttal bubbling in her throat by accepting her girlfriend’s embrace. The hug they shared felt almost as overdue as their time together last night. There’d been lots of those already, of course. The thank god you’re not dead⁠—anymore kiss. All they’d done the night after the demon battles was be with each other. Be alive. Half the time Sunset couldn’t say what she was crying over, but it felt so good to do it together. This, too.

Foreheads touching, Twilight let out a breath between a laugh and a scoff. “I’m sorry. I guess I can’t say I’m not afraid of losing you anymore…” Before Sunset could comfort her, she parted to hold her girlfriend’s face in both hands, a thumb stroking her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

She was afraid she wouldn’t have a coherent answer for her⁠. How could she? 

Then Sunset was saved by the bell: her stomach grumbled loudly. Ah. That one, I know. “Breakfast. I’m feeling breakfast,” Sunset said, gratefully. “I picked up some tofu bacon the other day, I can cook us up some of that with hash browns, fruit salad, waffles—the works. Lucky for you, you’ve stumbled across the best hotplate kitchen in town.”

As she raised up the window for them again, she heard Twilight’s little impressed noise. Sunset liked to think it was just because she was checking out her ass (it apparently wouldn’t be the first time). She gestured inside. “Let me cook us up some grub. Big day and all.” But then, she lost some of her steam, realizing. “Hey, are you going to be okay going to this thing?”

“‘This thing’…?” It seemed to actually take a second for the words to activate her sleepy genius brain, like feeling around in the dark for the On switch on an espresso machine. “Oh right, the coronation! Wow. Would you believe I hadn’t thought about it? Not even one obsessive anxiety spiral? I think that’s a new record for me.” Soft pink light fell over her cheeks. “Although, I should say I’ve been a little distracted, thanks to someone.”

“Happy to be of service,” Sunset said, hands behind her back like a waiter in a little coat, maybe a little too proud of herself which earned herself a light shove. “And, now that you’ve thought about it? Are you gonna be okay?”

“Maybe… maybe not. I guess we’ll see,” she sounded overwhelmed, but ready. “You?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Both of them giggled. Sunset sighed, arms crossed as she leaned back against the brick. “Okay, definitely not, but… in a good way, if that makes sense. Sorry to break it to you, babe.” Sunset Shimmer winked, leading the way back into her apartment in an after you fashion. “Your girlfriend’s gone totally soft on you.”





Ridiculous was a good word, Sunset had come to find. She used to think it could only possibly be an insult. And yet, not terribly long after Twilight had left Sunset’s to do the practical work of getting herself ready for the coronation, who should roll up in a rental Land Rover but Timber Brambleton Spruce with two garment bags hooked over his shoulder, and, of course, two ice creams. 

He could’ve gotten himself all Spruced up at the Gala Galleria, or in Rarity’s mcmansion. Could’ve. 

Just how he’d convinced Gloriosa to break his Camp Everfree lockdown-grounding for a day of interdimensional partying with no cell reception, Sunset couldn’t fathom. Well, not until Timber explained that the combined power of his and Flash’s doe-eyes was a force unto itself. That, she believed.

“Oh hey, our ride’s on its way!” Timber’s voice came through the bathroom door. “You okay in there?”

	“On it!” She gave one final spray of the rich perfume she’d gotten from a Canterlot boutique once. The one that reminded her of her mom’s scent, if she was honest with herself, with notes of clove and something like cake frosting. 
	
When Sunset got word three days ago that the coronation would be postponed to today due to what the princess called “National Emergency Recovery Efforts,” was she shocked? Not whatsoever even in the slightest. If she’d been surprised, she wouldn’t have been paying very close attention to… any of Princess Twilight’s life, really. 

All the same, there had been a part of her at the time that almost suspected foul play of the most thoughtful degree. Her mom always had an eerie way of just Knowing what Sunset had gotten up to⁠—it was hard to shake that paranoia (especially after her mom plucked her immortal soul from the eternal queue for a little ghostly stargazing session). 

Regardless, even if the princesses hadn’t guessed that Sunset and her friends would need a few days to just not be in disaster-mode (and sleep for, on average, a solid fifteen hours apiece⁠), the timing worked out. But if she was honest with herself, which she was now in the business of being, disaster-mode was a hard devil to shake.

Sunset did her damndest to steer her eyes away from the mirror where she kept expecting demon eyes to stare back at her, checking only one last time, before leaving the privacy of the bathroom.

Up on her bedroom platform, she saw her best friend snuggling her purring cat in his arms. Timber beamed upon seeing her before letting Scruffers down and taking on a debutante’s air. 

Sunset was left with no choice other than to wolf-whistle.

Suited in a decidedly upward direction, Timber descended the staircase like a prom queen ready for an embarrassingly long parental photo session. And, of course, he posed glamorously with his thumb and index finger in a V-shape at his chin, gesturing to his fancy crooked neck-ware. “Am I straight?” 





Sunset snorted and with a little “c’mere, dummy,” fiddled with the bowtie he was referring to which, as it happened, was most definitely anything but. Her smirk fixed him in place.

“Does the hair work? Too much gel?” He pushed a hand over the styled back curls. “I kinda feel like Rarity pulled it off better.” 

Re-tying the bowtie for him, Sunset raised an eyebrow. “No one pulls off you better than you. It’s a little much in a good way, if you ask me. You’d blend right in on a Manehattan street corner.” She finished up the bowtie and aimed a pair of finger guns his way. “Hella sophisticated, dude.” 

Sunset hadn’t quite expected the crushing hug that walloped an oof out of her. After a second, Timber seemed to realize he’d committed a terrible sin by lifting a short girl off the ground (thereby calling attention to her height deficit) and blushed. “Oh, uh, sorry, I⁠—”

Sunset hugged his tall ass back to shut him up. It worked. 

“...You can let go now, Sunset,” he muttered (only after getting his fill).

She obliged. For now. 

Getting a good look at her, Timber got this hyper-serious consternation about him. “Uhhhh, excusez-moi? Were you just not gonna tell me you were going for red-carpet gorgeous? Seriously! Now I’ve gotta replan my whole day! You know, so I can walk like ten feet ahead of you at all times just to warn everybody about the bombshell coming their way.” 

She would’ve hit him if he wasn’t right. 

“Especially Twilight, geez. I’m... probably going to look away when she does, just, you know, for my own sake, but your girlfriend’s gonna go full on Heart Eyes over you. We should bring a napkin. She drools sometimes.”

Rarity deserved most of the credit, even if Sunset was the one rocking the look lethally hard. She made a note to buy the girl a sundae: double-fudge, triple toppings (referred to as the Rarity Special down at Sugarcube Corner). The one-shoulder dress Rarity had Sunset in had an asymmetrical edge to it and gold accents shimmering almost as resplendently as the Holy Sledgehammer. The latest addition to her Daydream collection. 

“Maybe,” Sunset said, her tone suggesting definitely. She elbowed Timber’s side. “Watch Flash have a stutter-fest when he catches you in that, though. I’ll be the one videoing him. For non-blackmail purposes.”

The two of them cast bold shadows in the light of the apartment’s bay windows, especially as Timber did his best to look suave. “Yep. Those two don’t stand a chance.”

“Not a one,” Sunset agreed. She collected her keys into a matching clutch Rarity sent over that Sunset seriously hoped would translate to a small saddlebag. The portal hadn’t eaten any of her possessions as of yet. Still, a primal paranoia in the back of her brain whispered that she’d lock herself out of her apartment because her keys either A) disappeared from existence or B) turned into a puddle of rainbows.

The conversation with her landlady would suck. But that’s what the backup key hidden under a rock was for, Sunset supposed. 

Collecting things into her purse, Sunset’s hand reached for a travel coffee mug off the side table that she’d been lugging around everywhere with her the last few days. She grimaced.

Timber hesitated by the door. “I think they’ll have plenty of refreshments at this thing. Unless, you know, you didn’t tell me it was BYOC.”

Holding it in both her hands, Sunset felt stupid for stroking a thumb on the side. “No, you’re right. There’s probably no use in bringing it to Equestria.” She’d filled it this morning on instinct during breakfast with Twilight, hadn’t even thought. She dumped the coffee down the drain of her old, stainless steel sink, the dark liquid circling the drain. 

She didn’t realize she’d been watching it go down until Timber squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll make more coffee tomorrow, okay?” 

“I know. Hell, if he was Solstice right now, he’d want us to have fun.” Then, in her best approximation of his stuffy, cultured baritone, she poked an awkward finger into her air. “‘Self-care! Work-life balance! Nurture your self-love!’”

	Both of them broke into dumb giggles and the uneasy air eased off. Timber did an even better impression since he was working with a deeper vocal range. “Nurture it, damn you! Or so help me, I’ll make you a soothing tea!”

	Sunset tossed her head back. They quickly had each other crying. Sunset was careful not to smear her makeup as she wiped under her eyes. “Dammit. I miss him so much.”

Careful not to smear his makeup that Sunset had done for him, Timber palmed both his eyes, letting out a strained sigh. “I know. And, just⁠—after all these years being forgotten about after spending just two months with campers⁠—I thought no one could possibly miss me. We didn’t even know Solstice for a full month and I feel like I lost my oddball, Griffish uncle.”

“Let alone your counsellor,” Sunset agreed.

“About that.” Timber rubbed his collared neck. “I’ve got a regular counsellor back in the Everfree region.”

Those words whacked into Sunset like walking full-speed into a street sign. “You what? But dude, all this time you were on my dumbass side not wanting to go to counselling. Why didn’t you tell me I was being a featherhead sooner?”

Timber grinned like he found something about her funny and shrugged. “Hey, there’s other ways to cope with life besides counselling. I wasn’t going to push it on anyone⁠.” She suspected he’d had other reasons at the time, but she didn’t feel like razzing him for avoiding feelings. 

Mostly because she’d have absolutely none of her two legs or four hooves to stand on.

Timber reached into his suit jacket for his duct-tape craft-camp wallet. “For real, though. We’re still looking for Solstice, and hopefully, we find him soon, but who knows how long it’ll take?” He didn’t see her wince at that, filing through his cards. “Kind of seems like you could use somebody to talk to in the meanwhile. And, well, if you’re looking, my counsellor’s really great.”

He held out a card for her to take. Sunset froze.

Timber hesitated when she did. “I promise she won’t⁠—uh. You know. Go demon on you…”

Snorting, Sunset took the card in her hand. 

Heart’s Brew Psychiatry. 
Find your grief’s remedy. 

Huh. That rhymes, she thought, turning it over. Along with a phone number and office location, she saw Timber’s counsellor’s name: Zecora, M.D.

Sunset could feel her chest constricting, like her dress had suddenly shrunk down a size. The idea of seeing anyone besides Solstice hit harder than she’d expected. All the same, she gave Timber a halfhearted smile. “Uh, thanks. I’ll think about it.”

Winking, Timber pocketed one of his hands in his pocket and stuck the other beneath one of the suspenders under his suit jacket. “Now, I do believe we have a princess to upstage?”

Sunset snorted, slipping the card into her purse and ripping open a grin. “Let’s not be too cruel. It’s her big day, after all.” She offered out her elbow for Timber to take, who did so happily. She grabbed her leather jacket to wear over her dress and shut the light off in her apartment on their way out. “Even if we will be the best looking best friends in the room.”

Before the door could swing all the way shut, Timber caught it. “Oh! Wait!”

“What?”

“My ear-flappy Northway hat,” he said, taking a few steps in the dark room to go search for it. “I left that by the couch when I was watching sitcoms with you. I should grab that, shouldn’t I?”

Eyes hooded, Sunset smiled. “Leave it. You can get it next time.”

Timber paused. As the light of the hall hit his face, his surprise collapsed into a warm, disbelieving smile. “Okay,” he said, before closing the door on their sit-com soundstage. “Next time.”





Between the go-kart rumble and gas station congestion inside the Rainbooms Tour Bus, Sunset usually didn’t like to read on board. Best not to push her luck. But she couldn’t take her eyes off Zecora’s card. Reading it over and again, she thumbed the thick cardstock. 

Her heels sunk into the plush cherry carpet below the seat as the bus crested a speed bump like a speed-boat taking a wave. If Solstice was Solstice, she thought, would he feel like I’m giving up on him? 

	Sunset couldn’t fathom a Solstice in his right mind wanting anything for her but better coping skills—but he wasn’t in his right mind. 

	As the non-demon here, I know what’s good for him better than he does. I have to overrule what he would want⁠… don’t I? He still needs me, she thought, finally freeing her eyes from being chained to the card to look out the tinted, tempered window to the marine vision of Canterlot City parallax scrolling by. Assuming he’s out there somewhere...

She shoved that possibility out of her mind. He had to be. 

While the bus rumbled at a stoplight, her eyes snagged on a graveyard⁠, Golden Oaks Memorial Cemetery and Mortuary. The various heights of headstones peaked out from half-melted snow. The shadows they cast on someone’s behalf. Tartarus, he would be skulking around a place like that. Her heart’s metronome ticked up, scanning the headstones. Probably reciting sad poetry aloud about how evil he is...

	“Glad we didn’t find you there, huh?”

That gave Sunset a start. Sitting in her rainbow-pin-striped tux, Rainbow Dash had rested an elbow on the seat in front of her and a gentle smirk pocketing one side of her face.

In fact, all of her finely dressed friends were either listening or looking over their shoulders.

Sunset grimaced. “Oh, yeah… me too. Sorry about the whole dying on you thing. None of that was planned⁠.”

 Rainbow’s dark blue eyebrows soared skyward, even with the still-pink scar slicing through the left eye and brow. “Wha⁠—? Dude, no. I meant that’s one of the places the Home Team checked for the other SunShim.” She jacked a thumb toward the graveyard as the bus pulled away from it. 

Then what Sunset said caught up to the speedster. “Whoa... yeah. Seriously, seriously glad we didn’t find you there the… you know, the other way, ‘cause that...” Something darkened, shadows clouded over her expression as the square daylight angled away onto the tear in the seat’s fabric next to her instead. Stuffing poked out. She met Sunset’s eyes. “You good?”

“Oh, it’s okay if you’re not,” Fluttershy piped up, turned back towards them with Pinkie, in her pastel floral dress a seat up and over on the left. “Um, good.”

Rarity reached out from across the aisle where she’d stolen Timber away to give him tips on styling his hair and squeezed Sunset’s hand. 

Sunset smiled downward. “I know. Thanks. Same to you, by the way. I know watching me die must’ve been⁠—” Her eyes sized up. “Holy Tartarus, what did you see when I died? Uh, not to bring up bad memories for you or anything.”

The girls and Timber exchanged a series of looks, but it was Applejack up at the driver’s seat who had the guts to say anything. “There was this big bug zapper kinda flash,” AJ said, engine rumbling. “Got too bright to look directly at⁠—you know like when we watched the solar eclipse together last summer?” Sunset caught AJ’s green eyes peering at her through the rearview. “Then, after that… you were gone.”

Timber shivered in his suit. “The worst part was I knew I didn’t teleport you anywhere. It wasn’t like there was a body leftover, either, you were just incinerated.”

Before Sunset’s mouth could fully form the words I’m sorry, Pinkie Pie popped up out of her window seat beside Fluttershy, leaning over the back of the seat. “Doooon’t you do it! Ub-bub-bup! What did we say about apologizing for dying and coming back to life?”

“Not to,” Sunset droned.

“If it makes you feel any better, hon, I wasn’t kiddin’ about the brightness n’all,’' Applejack said, turning a corner with the big, thin steering wheel. “We couldn’t watch you burn even if we tried, so we didn’t see nothin’ gruesome.”

“Thankfully, yes, even if I… must admit to being a tad paranoid now from time to time about your well-being,” Rarity spoke, and some of the others nodded, or gave a little yup. 

Sunset snickered. All the love in the r-booms group chat had been her first hint. “Yeah, I kind of caught on. My phone’s been blowing up nonstop. Plus Pinkie’s Insert Excuse-Occasion-to-Come-See-Me Here cupcakes. I have about three dozen now.” She brightened. “I liked the buttercream fires on the chocolate ones, by the way.”

Pinkie gasped. “Aww, the Hooray for New Wings cupcakes! You noticed?”

“I devoured them.” And okay, part of that might’ve been needing to carbo-load and comfort food her way through the day after the demon battles (featuring Scruffles Cuddles), but Sunset had also appreciated opening the door to Pinkie hugs and cupcakes each time.

“Screw the groupchat,” Rainbow rasped, laughing, “We’re getting all the hangout time! Obviously, we’re still totally going to hype up Princess Twilight⁠—like dude, I’ve gotta tell her how awesome she is and catch up! It’s been too long! But also, man, I’m so beyond ready for us to hit up this rager!”

Cheers erupted from her friends, full of scattered phrases like “Party therapy!!! My favourite kind!” from Pinkie. Sunset cheered along and, heart overflowing as she babbled on with her friends, felt well and truly alive. If there were any doubts, her love for her best friends cleared it right up.

She resisted the temptation to keep looking through the windows at any empty, unremarkable shadows in the street. 

To the end that she hadn’t noticed they’d pulled up by the Sentry family’s ranch-style house with the flagpole and the ancient oak tree out front. Underneath, Flash and Twilight talked the time away by the curb. While Sunset stretched to see if she could catch a glimpse, Timber bolted up, shuffled past Rarity, and patted the top of Sunset’s seat twice. “You stay.”

Grinning like a doof, Timber picked up speed down the aisle to whistles and cheers. He clambered down and met up with not just Flash, but Detective Magnus, who clearly wanted to take his son’s picture with his date despite Flash’s red face. Sunset snickered, noticing Timber calling out to his boyfriend’s dad in an approximation of Rarity’s accent. 

Moments later, Twilight walked onto the bus. 

For her part, Twi’s eyes climbed over the seats before she saw Sunset and she stopped, jaw decidedly dropped. 

Pulse pounding, Sunset’s eyebrows raised up. Holy shit… 

Sparks revived Sunset’s ashes. Head to toe. Like stoking a locomotive engine, steam pluming, the coal and cockles of her heart crackled. Their eyes met somewhere in between. Curiosity found understanding. 

Thought and intellect sparkled in the depths of Twilight’s purple eyes. Spirit and heart, typically tempered by worry for everyone else around her, finally lifted her braces-straight smile for herself. As she did her best not to take a tumble in her heels, the incandescent bulbs lining the roof catalyzed the glitter on her dress, a universe of curves. 

The woman Sunset loved didn’t need magic to glow. 

Somewhere outside, the sounds of Timber making a scene for his boyfriend leaked through the bus windows. He whistled. Sunset snickered as Twilight rolled her eyes. 

Sunset rose out of her seat to offer the window seat to the girl she couldn’t keep her smiling eyes off of. “Hey there, Sparks.”

“Um, wow,” Twilight burbled in response as she felt Sunset up with her eyes, her face more magenta than the streak in her hair. “Hey there yourself.”

On principle, the two of them avoided excessive PDA. Not because they were prudes, in fact, the opposite. In Sunset’s estimation, that stance evolved out of the dirty fun of their brief secret love affair that they… maybe hadn’t told their friends about the exact minute it started? (Partially because they hadn’t out and out defined what was going on between them until weeks had gone by). Better to play it coy. Hotter and considerate, a winning combination. 

But, well. Exceptions could be made. Right now? Sunset didn’t give a damn who knew she had feelings. Sunset Shimmer kissed her girlfriend in a dip, hearing the bus erupt whoops around them. 

Stealing this moment felt too good. Close enough to feel their breath mingle, to catch her girlfriend’s real scent below the sweet power of her lilac perfume. Just long enough to tease each other. A reminder that they both knew full well the depth of kisses they’d had last night. A ghost of their first time. A promise of their second. 

Times like this gave her a distraction she sorely, sorely needed.

Parting before grand could spill over into raunchy (despite what some parts of Sunset had to say about it), there was something so endearing about the slant of Twilight’s glasses, but Sunset fixed them just the same. And when Twilight could properly see, she giggled. “Eheheh, I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re happy to see me…”

It took a second for Sunset to notice her wings had not only materialized, but caught on fire. Again. “Oh! Tartarus!”

Last night, that had been far more startling, given the blankets and flammable materials around them at the time, but Sunset really hoped she wouldn’t turn into a fire hazard every time.

“N’aww. Come on you two. Don’t get all hot and bothered!” Pinkie pounded out a rim-shot on the back of her seat and made a cymbal noise with her mouth. Rainbow Dash cracked a grin, Fluttershy hid her smile with a hand, and Applejack sighed deeply at the front of the bus. 

Somewhere outside, Timber barked a “Ha!”

“Indeed.” Rarity clacked open a hand-fan that matched her dress with the words Born this Fabulous on it and began blowing air towards herself. “I’m so beyond thrilled you’re happy and you both look simply divine⁠—but I beg of you,” she choked out. “If the weeks of work I’ve done on our ensembles is ruined by running makeup it would be a Drakespearean tragedy!”

“Whaaat? But, Rarity, I thought you said gals like you couldn’t sweat,” Applejack called back from the front. “Whyever might your makeup run?”

For a solid moment, Rarity only glared, fanning harder. “Ladies glow, Applejack.” 

Sunset patted down the flames to douse them out. Her own fire only felt like sticking her hand in a hot-tub. Her dress smelled a little smoky afterwards, but otherwise none too worse for the wear. 

She couldn’t yet explain why it didn’t seem to burn through her clothes—she expected Twilight would want to experiment in depth to find out⁠—but for now, she was mostly just grateful. Definitely a unique kind of burn. If not phoenix feather flames, or a lumination spell, she would’ve assumed it was hellfire. That theory hadn’t been entirely disproven. 

“—and it fits you so well!” Outside, now that Detective Magnus had left them be, she could hear the sound of Timber’s voice echoing down the block. “Seriously, I’ve gotta know: Is heaven missing an angel?”





	Scaffolding boxed in the exposed openings and broken windows of Canterlot High. The back-up beeps of a front-end loader telegraphed a steady warning as the operator scooped bricks and mortar like raisin bran. A large orange and black crane lowered a new wall down as a site super waved it into place.

Sunset Shimmer’s lower back was delighted she wouldn’t be handed a trowel this time. 

Sneaking into the staff parking lot had been a breeze on a Saturday. Although... not easy on all counts. The city still hadn’t impounded Solstice’s car, despite the tickets starting to pile on the windshield that Sunset knocked off like cobwebs off a tombstone. Her friends pulled her away after she checked to see if he was somehow secretly living somewhere in there.

Wouldn’t be any weirder than any of the other spots they’d looked.

The only folks they found onsite were filming⁠—which actually hadn’t been too unusual in the days afterwards. Their newsfeeds became odd mirrors, static shots of their school and battlefield turned into reporter b-roll. But instead of a professional camera crew, Juniper and Wallflower were hanging around to grab some bonus footage. Sunset told them to keep up the good work. She was sure this whole thing would need a good team behind it to tell the story right. 

Coming around to the front of what was now an active construction zone, the lot of them babbling excitedly, Twilight hummed while watching a few of the workers letting their legs dangle off the rafters, taking an early lunch. “Wow, what a head rush,” she muttered, before smirking at the others. “I was about to strategize a plan for how we’re going to get through the portal without anyone noticing. Force of habit, I suppose.”

Flash’s face lit up like a Hearth’s Warming tree as they came up around the sidewalk. “Oh hey, yeah! No more hiding our paradoxes!”

Holding his boyfriend’s hand in his, Timber hummed. “Paradoxi?”

“That’s a load off, but you know, it wasn’t like we did that good of a job of bein’ inconspicuous-like to begin with,” Applejack chuckled, slowing so she wouldn’t outpace Rarity in her heels. “I’d bet ya Granny’s prize hog the mayor’s drowned up to her neck in paperwork and phone calls right about now.”

Fluttershy pursed her lips. “We’ll… have to send her a thank you basket. Or maybe several.”

Rainbow Dash just about bounced on every step. “Who cares about fruit baskets? If we’re giving her a thank you, she can have our buffet leftovers from Equestria!”

Sunset snickered. She enjoyed the simple pleasure of having Twilight on her arm and her friends by her side on a  leisurely walk across CHS campus again⁠—without having to fear for their lives. “Not a bad idea. But, just gonna warn you now: she’s probably not going to get her snack on the same way that ponies do. Human digestive systems are more robust, but I don’t think we can handle a good hayburger.” 

Not that she would know. Sunset would never binge eat hay once in a bout of intense homesickness. She would also never spend the following day regretting all of her life choices. Nope. 

Glad that none of them seemed to notice the heat on her cheeks, Sunset cleared her throat. “We’ll, uh, go with a flower arrangement.”

In between catching snippets of Fluttershy and Flash talking music theory, or Rainbow, Pinkie, and Timber planning their sneaky assault on the chocolate fountain (because of course Princess Twilight would have one; in fact, they resolved to give her one if she didn’t have one, because what kind of no chocolate fountain Princess did she think she was?? It simply wouldn’t do, and the conversation shifted to where and how they’d find a chocolate fountain in Equestria), another sound came to her. The sound of heels clacking down the sidewalk from the front of the school. 

Flash turned and his eyes bulged. “Principal Celestia?”

As Applejack whistled, Rainbow Dash picked her jaw off the floor. “Dang, PC!”

Heels leagues fancier than anything Sunset had ever seen their high school principal dare to wear matched the white and gold lounge dress that cascaded down the full length of her body. Principal Celestia smiled cordially. “I hope it’s not too odd to see the Principal outside of school hours.”

“That’s not the weird part,” Twilight promised, chuckling, neglecting to add the unspoken anymore. “You... want to go to the coronation with us? Do you think we need a chaperone?”

Principal Celestia shook her head (and despite how nice it was to see her, Sunset swore she heard a sigh of relief from somewhere among the unchaperoned teens). “Oh no, I should think you can handle yourselves. I just came by to check in on the construction crew, and noticed you all leaving. I hope you all have a lovely time,” she said. “Vice Principal Luna has decided on taking me out on the town. I hear Le Grand’s has an excellent waitstaff. I didn’t feel right using the play tickets Solstice gifted me while he’s… not himself. So my sister insisted we spend some time away from the couch before she’ll let me order more cake.”

Rarity nodded sagely. “A fair deal.”

Sunset was happy for her. She thought their principal deserved time out to relax, be a person. But even still, some anxious part of her wanted to rush past the small talk to get to the important stuff. 

Perhaps Principal Celestia could see it in her face, because her countenance shifted the same way Princess Celestia’s did when the two of them used to exchange battle strategy.  “Still no sign of him yet.”

Sunset nodded, albeit sinking a bit into her folded arms. “Yeah… same here…” She sighed as Principal Celestia hid her disappointment behind concern. “Should I stay behind to keep looking? Maybe we can expand our search downtown. I don’t want to leave you without backup if he returns—let me protect you.”

Celestia got this look in her eyes that Sunset used to hate. The you’re too young to be talking like that look. She laid a hand on Sunset’s shoulder. “Burnout’s a dangerous thing, dear. Have a great night. Solstice would want you to enjoy your time.”

Sunset rubbed her neck. “Yeah… I know he would⁠—and I’m going to counselling again when all this is over,” she said, realizing she meant it. The pride on her friends faces when she said that all but confirmed her decision. It would be really good for me. And I don’t know if I can help Solstice anyway...I failed him. She bit her lip. “But...”

“If he comes back, well, you aren’t the only ones with magical powers anymore. Or other means of defense.” As Sunset’s mind raced to envision tanks rolling down the downtown plaza, Principal Celestia winked. “I have a coffee maker.”

Sunset chuckled along with the group, feeling the tension retreat from her shoulders, for now. “Oh, good. Sounds like you’re well-armed. I guess we’ll be seeing you then.”

“As soon as school reopens, that is,” Fluttershy added, watching the workers wheel out their old, charred band equipment. 

“Monday morning always comes too soon,” Principal Celestia agreed, “I hope to see you all for a few afterschool catch-up exam prep sessions next week. Don’t think I’ll let your studies slide.”

Before Rainbow could offer up an excuse to get them out of it, Twilight’s eyes glittered as she raised a hand to her forehead in salute. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

Rainbow Dash sighed, slumping. “Yeaaaah, I guess we wouldn’t…”

Sunset got a hug from the school principal. She was vaguely aware high school social rules would dictate that there should be almost nothing weirder or more embarrassing, but at the moment, she’d go out of her way for one if she had to. All of CHS and Crystal Prep could’ve seen for all she cared. 

As she and her friends waved goodbye to the rebuilding ruins of CHS and their all too fabulous high school principal, giving and receiving well wishes for the fun nights ahead, it occurred to Sunset. That was probably the first time she hadn’t even thought to compare her to Princess Celestia.

New dawn, new day. 





The funhouse space between dimensions smelled like the atmosphere after a lightning strike and, in Sunset’s opinion, tapioca pudding. Hard for a girl to keep her head together through there. 

Even still, she angled herself for impact in the last second before exiting the rainbow candy swirl as it finished atomizing and restructuring her physical body. Sunset slid across the waxed crystal floor of Princess Twilight’s library into Equestria on her hooves like a snowboarder shredding powder to slow themselves to a stop. For a second, she blinked, waiting to see how she’d smash her face into the floor this time. When it didn’t happen she exploded up in joy. “YES!”

The rest of her friends weren’t nearly as practiced. 

All of them fell victim to the journey through space-time and vertigo, the disorientation of their ex-human bodies being stretched and taffyfied. The rest of the Rainbooms lay in groaning heaps across the library floor. Poor Applejack looked a little green as Rainbow Dash rubbed her back. Rarity just seemed actively relieved to see everyone was still dressed and the portal hadn’t eaten all her hard work. Flash held his head. “Bluugh… wow… does that ever get any easier?”

“Yes and no,” Sunset said, holding back a laugh. She helped him to his hooves. “I’m a lot more experienced and even I still feel a little unsteady at first. It helps to close your eyes until the last second so you can aim.”

Flash blinked. “Wait, you still haven’t taught us how to aim!” 

Sunset shrugged, helping her girlfriend straighten her crooked glasses. “I never said I was a good leader.”

“Goodness… I still can’t believe Princess Twilight lives here,” Fluttershy marveled, looking up to the vaulted crystal ceilings, and then over to the multi-floor bookshelves walling the room on nearly all sides. “Well, actually maybe it’s not that unbelievable.”

Surveying the heap, Sunset frowned mildly. “Oh hey, where’s Timber?”

Flash’s ballooning eyes and Twilight’s dropping jaw directed her across the room.

Sunset followed their eyes and boggled. “What.”

A slender-hooved creature stood across the room where he’d slid ragdoll style. Timber Spruce’s dizzied green eyes now peered out of a fluffy, elegant white-tailed deer. Wearing a full suit and tie no less. The gasp currently coming out of him as he twisted and turned in circles examining his new deer body was impressively long. 

Sunset noticed the others, all of them ponies and decidedly not deer, goggling at him and as shocked as she was, she tried to comfort him. “Hey, dude, don’t feel weird or any⁠—”

“I’m a friggin’ deer!!!” Timber shrieked in delight. He clopped one of his tiny hooves against the crystalline floor, brightened further at the sound, and jumped on all four in a spread-eagle stance. He then proceeded to prance and bounce about the library in clumsy, four-legged hops. “Look at me! Flash! Look at me! I’m graceful!”

With a nudge from Twilight, Flash managed to blink himself out of his stupor as he and the others watched him loop around the room. “I see you, hon! Uh, way to go!” 

He giggled maniacally as Pinkie called out, “Ooo! I wanna try!” and sproinged after him in a way that was a little too bouncy for a pony. But not for a Pinkie.

“Ohhhhhhh,” Sunset let out, as it finally hit her. “So that’s why I’ve never seen the other Timber before!” When she got a raised eyebrow or intrigued look from Applejack, Twilight, and Fluttershy, she went on. “The deer in Equestria are a pretty respected, closed off society in the Everfree Forest! We try to let them do their own thing, they kind of have a city-state called Thicket? They’re very in touch with nature in a way even ponies aren’t and that’s how they maintain their culture, I guess.”

Timber stopped mid-prance with Pinkie to gasp again. “There are other deer like me? I have a people?!”

Rarity caught a glance at the clock over the heavy doors to the library’s entrance. “Good heavens! Timber, dear⁠—” Rainbow Dash barked a HA! Rarity rolled her eyes. “Darlings,” she said, “I’m thrilled you’re having fun but we have a train to catch, do we not?”

All the years that Sunset Shimmer had pictured her own coronation, and all the more that she’d spent plotting revenge against Princess Twilight for hers, she’d never thought about the kingdom of it all. 

She’d thought about the crown, the fineries, the ceremony, command of the Royal Guard, even every word of her Oath of Office. The pretense of humility she’d put on in her acceptance speech. The looks of pride or horror on Princess Celestia’s face when she’d either earn the crown rightfully, or take it for her own. 

So, so much thought about that. 

And, yeah, on some level, she’d thought she thought about the kingdom. The cheers of thousands, or their eternal obedience to her every whim… 

She currently thought the old her could go suck a lemon.

What Sunset Shimmer had never considered once before she died, and what she was in total awe of now that she’d come back from the dead, was how excited she was to go be a part of the crowd. Watching it happen to somepony else.

The steam whistle echoed down around the curves of the mountains for miles.

The half hour train ride from Ponyville up to the mountaintop city of Canterlot filled Sunset with cresting waves of nostalgia she hadn’t felt in years. Last time she took this trip, an anxious knot twisted in her stomach thinking about what Princess Celestia might say to her when she saw her again for the first time since she ran away. 

Now their train charged up to higher and higher altitudes toward the snow-softened peaks. The little sparkling ponds she’d played in as a foal or the rush of passing by waterfalls the size of her highschool. Sparkles on the water seemed to chase their train as they dodged in and out of mountain tunnels darker than the longest night. She could hardly contain her heart spilling over. Home. 

She regaled the friends she called her family with stories from when she was young taking diplomatic trips across the country they could now see rolling out on all sides. 

They rolled up to the nation’s capital in style. So, too, had many of the patrons of the Friendship Express who flooded forth on the platform before the train let out a dutiful sigh and chugged away to its next destination. 

For her part, Sunset eyed the boxcars. “Huh, they must’ve renamed that line for Princess Twilight. That train used to be called the Celestial Central Railway when I was a filly; I took it all the time when I couldn’t be bothered to long distance teleport.”

“I’m learning so much,” Twilight squealed, in true tourist fashion. “I wish I could take notes!”

Sunset snorted as she watched Rainbow Dash try to glide alongside them to wobbly results. “There’s not going to be a test or anything.” It occurred to her who she was talking to and Sunset lowered her voice. “You... know that, right?”

Rolling her eyes, Sunset’s marefriend shoved her shoulder with her own. “I wish there was! Equestrian culture and history are so interesting, but especially because it’s your culture and history! You don’t talk about it a lot.” 

Sunset’s brow lifted. 

Twilight shuffled out of the way of a griffon along the cobblestone path bursting with life. She grinned at Sunset. “I love hearing stories from when you lived here! All the little pieces of what made you who you are⁠—big and small, good or bad. It’s all so fascinating! And it’s so rare I get to see you light up like this! I’d take a whole class on that.”

The others babbled their bits of agreement. That surprised her (and not just because she last heard Flash and Rarity gabbing about style tips for different body types, or Fluttershy schooling Timber on all the deer-related factoids she knew). More of her friends had been listening to her stories than she’d even realized, rapt to hear the parts of herself she hadn’t realized she’d stopped sharing. 

Needless to say, Sunset’s heart toasted in her chest like the marshmallows they’d skewered on the beach last summer. 

Hooves clip-clopping, Pinkie pounced down the cobblestone street with all the same energy she’d bring to bouncing down the halls of their high school way too early in the morning. “And c’mon, why would you ever wanna not be talking about this!?”

She gestured toward the market square ahead. 

The streets of the capital on the mountaintop were as brilliant as postcards. Skies as open as a deep intake of mountain air. The proud blue of the Equestrian flag waved on zig-zagging banners strung above the clamour of a country raising their heads to the same sky all at once⁠. Creatures great and small carted their way past the minstrel band singing folk songs of the Heroes Six (RD slipped them a twenty when they got to a verse about Rainbow the Loyal and the bard seemed baffled by the strange paper currency). 

Between the spellfire lamp-posts and turret-like shops⁠, the wafts of freshly-baked honey oat bread danced with the rich, fiery smell from the kiln from the freshly made Princess Twilight tchotchkes. Sunset noticed her friends gaping around and smirked. “And you people wonder why I wanted to rule this place.”

While she really wished they could stay longer to take in the scenery of her hometown, they were already running late as it was. They could spend all day getting sidetracked down side streets or backtracking down back alleys, replaying Sunset’s foalhood in real-time, but they had a coronation to catch. 

The beauty of living in a castle town: Sunset always knew how to find her way home. Once upon a time, it used to feel like the entire world revolved around Canterlot Castle. The place loomed larger than the mountain peaks it overtook. Finding herself shuffling down its vast drawbridge, shooting a salute to the guards in the gatehouse, was better than any driveway.

Of course, the Royal Guards gave them a thorough pat-down, but the real arbiter of fun stopped every guest at the gate. Sunset swore in human. 

Perceptive as ever, Flash frowned. “What’s wrong? You didn’t forget the invite, did you?”

At that suggestion, Rarity’s glare looked ready to push Sunset into the moat. Applejack held her back.

“Nah, got that.” Sunset pulled the half-charred purple envelope out of her saddlebag before she found herself supersoaked. “Just wasn’t expecting to see an old friend.” 

Whilst under Princess Celestia’s watch, the only pony Sunset could ever find that had a straighter edged pole stuck up their flank than the princess had been the royal scheduling advisor Kibitz. Even all these years later, Sunset found herself resisting the urge to fix her posture as she sauntered over. “Hey there, teach. Long time no browbeat.”

Standing behind a podium, Canterlot Castle’s majordomo brayed, gobsmacked. “My, my, great merciful Celestia!” His bushy moustache flounced, his monocle nearly popped out. “I saw your name on the guestlist but I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe… young madam Sunset, as I live and breathe! And terribly late as ever!”

There it is. Sunset rolled her eyes. “Of course that’s the first thing you say to me. Hey look, I’ve got a personal invitation from the Princess herself, signed and everything, so you can’t kick us out.”

Kibitz inspected her invitation as if checking for signs of fraud. “Yes, yes. I would hardly believe it were you if you were on time. Slept in ridiculously late, I suspect,” he tutted, but there was almost something warm to the way he shook his head. “Oh, the castle has been so terribly quiet without the pitter patter of little hoodlum hooves sneaking out…” 

Sunset faltered when she saw him getting nostalgic for the first time in… ever. “Careful, Kibz, you almost sounded happy to see me.”

The chief chaperone’s moustache masked his mouth but his eyes misted and shimmered. He swelled up straight and eventually said, “Quite. Welcome home.”

The sound of not too distant horns blasting in the court made Kibitz bluster, harrumphing huffily. “It’s starting!” he squawked, alarming the others. “Blast! How many times must I remind you fashionably late is a myth?!” 

In the mad dash to their seats, Rarity called back, “When we’re late, I beg to differ!”

Laughing and whooping like idiots, the lot of them hoofed it through the open-air corridor, hooves thundering. Despite their fancy dress wear, the adrenaline had Sunset feeling like normal stupid kids for the first time in far too long. They still had to get through the gardens, but they could see the balcony overlooking the courtyard ahead. Their hollering hushed down the closer they got, to minimize disruption as much as equinely possible. 

Thankfully, Princess Twilight had that covered for them.

As Sunset and company snuck into her coronation, Princess Twilight fumbled her new crown as if given a football after never playing a sport in her life, eliciting a gasp from the attendees that easily masked their hoofsteps. 

The Twilight from Canterlot High sunk as she trotted after Sunset, muttering, “That… looks about right, actually. All this time I assumed the princess me must be graceful.”

Timber bounced gracefully alongside her. “I told you: bumbling and blundering. A Sentry and Sparkle specialty.”

Twilight stuck her tongue out at him and Flash snickered along with Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash, who all got shushed by Applejack. They were now close enough that they’d be heard if they were too loud, especially with the hush that had fallen over the crowd. Up above on the balcony, Princess Twilight cleared her throat. 

“I guess it wouldn’t be my coronation if something didn’t go awry,” she groused with an amplification spell cast on her voice, but it got a laugh from the gathered audience. 

Sunset found a shortcut through the topiary and waved her friends over. 

“My fellow Equestrians, creatures great and small. I so solemnly vow to live up to the spirit of our loving nation, the sparkle in the eyes of every creature. Just as Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Cadance have done before me.” Sunset didn’t need to look to know Princess Twilight looked back at the princesses behind her⁠—which was good, because she was too busy hopping a fence. 

“But even as I stand with you here today⁠—” Sunset’s hooves thwomped the ground in a row of priceless chrysanthemums. “—I’m reminded of the creatures we united together against; those who, once upon a time, I’d hoped might be here to celebrate our victories with us, and perhaps, their own in kind.”

Right up ahead, she could see their open table through the brush. As her friends flopped over the fence, Sunset lingered at the ugliest garden statute she’d ever seen. Three creatures: a small filly, a lanky changeling, and a bulky centaur. Terrified, confused, and enraged.

“For the safety and betterment of us all, they’ve been sealed away in stone; now reduced from the hope of who they could have been, or the reality of who they were, to examples of what never to become.” Sunset’s heart wrung itself in her chest. She reached out a hoof to the marble, but faltered. “Chance after chance, they chose to revel in the dark of their hearts.”

Timber poked his little deer head back in the garden for her and Sunset bit her lip following after him. 

“Others, who I love and admire, have made better choices,” she said as Sunset entered the grand courtyard. “Faced with the night in their hearts, they saw the error of their ways. They could finally see the hurt that they’d caused to those who would be their friends, and, the direction of their lonely path.” 

At first, Sunset couldn’t help but wonder when the princess was going to namedrop her explicitly. It felt obvious who she was talking about. But, she realized, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

As Sunset took her assigned seat, she could look out among the gathered crowd of misfits lucky enough to get a front row seat to the event of the century. Starlight Glimmer and this world’s Trixie, a unicorn with a broken horn, a grumpy looking griffin, a draconequus with a knowing smile⁠—as far as Sunset knew, the last of his kind. So many of them captivated (or outright attacked) by what the princess had to say.

How many other times has she changed someone’s life? The thought boggled Sunset’s mind, and as in character as it was for the Princess, the sheer amount of friends she’d made out of enemies was staggering. But she supposed Princess Twilight didn’t deserve all the credit.

“And so, instead, they chose to change!” Sunset held her marefriend’s hoof, and winked at Timber. “Day by day, they charted themselves a better course, courses toward the love and friendship they had always deserved.”

Up above, Princess Twilight held her heart. “I count myself lucky to have watched these journeys unfold. Just as my own friends feel about me! Your Princess of Friendship was quite the recluse for most of her life. I didn’t know there was a better way. I’ve been there, too.” Sunset’s eyes dropped. “So now, I’m forever left asking. When can I expect others to know how to choose the goodness in themselves?”

Sunset’s brow drew together, and she raised her eyes to the balcony above. 

Queen Twilight offered a smile to her kingdom. “I implore you good creatures to always ask that kind question, as too shall I. I’m honoured to lead that great adventure and I strive to live up to this, the promise of Equestria. Today, we celebrate a new era of Friendship, curiosity, and learning the ways of the heart!” 

Applause detonoted all around, but none cheered louder for their new queen than the pony who would never be a Princess of Equestria. 





All of Equestria would be celebrating tonight, but only a lucky few were invited to the VIP afterparty. Princess Twilight had so, so, so many friends, allies, and acquaintances. How exactly the guest list was even narrowed down from the population of the whole country, Sunset had no clue. Only by the magic of Pinkie Pie, probably. 

But she did know that the private grand ballroom had historically been host to the world’s most influential dinners. Discussions of war, business dealings, alliances between nations. And she knew because she’d been bored out of her skull at most of them. 

Unsurprisingly, Princess Twilight had a better way in mind.

The Grand Ballroom was now filled with creatures from all over. Misfits all excited to find their table-clothed seats and enjoy the music courtesy of Vinyl Scratch and Octavia, a truly weird but delightful duet. The intricate gold paneling of the windows encased a gorgeous night full of fireworks as their backdrop. Better yet, the dance floor already had a few takers, even as the guests arrived on the scene. 

Sunset even spotted a familiar face or two⁠—Starlight was too distracted with this world’s Trixie, trying to prevent her from setting off fireworks indoors. She hadn’t expected those two to be so close. She’d absolutely have to razz Starlight about that later.

The Rainbooms whistled and giggled at the ballroom ahead of them. Flash looked in total awe. “So much better than streamers in the gym.”

“It’s everything I ever could have dreamed,” Pinkie Pie sniffled, tearing up. “The perfect party. It’s the Shangri-La of shindigs! Looklooklook they’ve got a starry ice sculpture! And a chocolate fountain!”

“And a bar!!!” The word ripped out of Rainbow Dash’s mouth as soon as she spotted the bartender polishing glasses opposite the DJ booth. Of course, the Rainbooms bombarded the bar at once.

While her friends raced over, Applejack moseyed with a raised eyebrow. “Y’all know we don’t have ID here, right?”

“And we’re underage,” Twilight protested, although her eyes were definitely lingering on the shiny bottles stacked on the wall behind the bartender. 

“Maybe back home.” Sunset smirked. “The Equestrian drinking age is a little lower than what we’re used to. We’re all over sixteen, right?”

Timber wiped his forehead. “Phew, just made it.”

As what she said dawned on them, their teenage revving at the start line with the possibilities laid before them. Sunset leaned a hoof on the bar. “Hey, barkeep. What’s your name?”

“Berry Punch,” said the boysenberry-coloured mare in a suit and bow-tie, polishing a glass.

“We’re going to be excellent friends, Berry. I’m Sunset. So, what does a mare from another dimension have to do to get a drink around here?”

Berry’s eyes lit up. “You’re Sunset Shimmer! Princess Twilight warned me about you!”

Sunset’s face dropped, eyes widening. “She⁠—she did?”

“Mm-hm!” Berry ducked below the bar and for a second Sunset’s heart ducked down with her. Then, the barkeep brought out a small scroll. “‘Sunset Shimmer most likely does not have an Equestrian ID due to her extensive foreign dignitary work in the faraway land of North Amareica. I, the Queen of Friendship, hereby grant her and her friends temporary license. Have fun!’”

Rainbow Dash chortled, shivering with excitement. “Princess Twilight is so cool.”

“No arguments here,” Sunset said, a touch of relief in her voice, because wow, it would’ve been such a bummer to promise her friends drinks only to be sent to the kiddie table. Still, she noticed Fluttershy lagging behind and softened. “Hey, so, ground rules: Anypony who isn’t comfortable drinking, I can hook you up with a killer fruit punch. Right, Berry?”

“Right, Miss Shimmer.”

Sunset hummed. “Ooo, I like the sound of that…”

Fluttershy bit her lip. “Oh, I hope I wouldn’t be spoiling our fun though…”

Applejack clapped Fluttershy on the shoulder with almost too much strength. “Are you kiddin’, girl? The DD is the most fun!”

Meanwhile, Flash’s eyes seemed to glaze over looking at a drinks menu that he perused with the others saddled up next to him. “Oh wow, there’s so much… where, uh, where do we start?”

Sunset threw a look over the menu and nodded to herself. She’d, in truth, only gotten to sneak so much booze under Princess Celestia’s watchful eye over the years, but she remembered where the bad hangovers were on that list. “I’d say… Nectar of the Gods,” she said. “Eight glasses, please.”

“Coming up!”

Twilight’s eyes filled out her glasses. “What percentage of alcohol content are we dealing with here?”

“Dunno. I’ll make sure we don’t drink ourselves stupid, if that’s what you’re asking. Or, too stupid, at least. I have family here.” Sunset put a hoof on her marefriend’s back and winked. “I’ve got you tonight, babe.”

That seemed to relax Twilight’s shoulders a bit. 

So, of course, Sunset had to add, “Hey Berry, a little extra for the girlfriend!”

Twilight shoved her, giggle-snorting all the while. 

The golden bubbly liquid filled eight glasses in a neat row across the bar. It reminded Dash to say, “Oh my god, dude, we totally have to do shots later! Shots! Shots! Shots!” The group of them chanting shots seemed to get a subtle smile out of Berry. If most of her patrons weren’t bubbling over with excitement, Sunset thought she was serving boring crowds. She served up Fluttershy’s fruit punch, too.

All of them took a glass⁠—some quite delicately in their new hooves⁠—and Sunset raised hers in her magic. Felt good to be flexing that old muscle again. “Finally, I get to drink with you dorks! Now the party can really start! What do you want to toast to on the first drink?”

The others considered it, and Timber raised his glass. “To Solstice.”

Sunset’s heart burned in her chest as she nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “To Solstice.”

Their glasses clinked. 

After a single sip, Timber beamed to his best friends. “Oh wow! So this is what being drunk feels like!”

“Dude, yes! We’re getting so wasted!” Dash gushed, looking like she’d downed a full energy drink all in one go.

In Sunset’s estimation, they wouldn’t really know what wasted felt like until a number of glasses later (if at all). She tried not to laugh at them. As best she could, at least. 

That worked fairly well, all things considered, until Sunset heard Flash behind her saying, “I’ll take a changeling whiskey, on the rocks.”

Sunset snorted. “Whoa, dude, easy there, you wanna finish your first drink⁠ first⁠—”

She nearly spilt her drink when she saw Flash Sentry in reflective golden armour, his short-cropped mane rocking a bit of helmet hair as he rested his golden helm and spear at the foot of the bar. Sunset rubbernecked the other direction to see her Flash Sentry gaping at his interdimensional counterpart with a rosey blush that definitely hadn’t come from the barest sip he’d taken of his drink. 

Timber bit his lip, eyes plinking between the two Flashes. “Two angels,” he said, looking down accusingly at his drink. “I must be in heaven, huh?”

Flash ignored him for once, stumbling forward as if in a Siren-sung-stupor. “Uhhhh… you’re… uh…” Flash breathed, “hi.”

The Royal Guard appraised the threat that had approached. He had something of a guarded look. “Do I… know you from somewhere? Are you a soldier?”

“Oh no, nonono, uh, well, my dad is, was. Now he’s a force detective, but...” Flash shook his head, remembering himself. “Sorry, this is weird. It’s gotta be even weirder for you, but I’m⁠—uhhhhhh?” He couldn’t help but notice his other self staring at him intensely.

The Royal Guard got his drink but didn’t seem to notice. “It’s the strangest thing,” he muttered. “You look like my father who I haven’t seen in a millennia.”

Flash’s brow drew together. 

“I was a resident of the Crystal Empire before it… disappeared for a thousand years thanks to the tyrant King Sombra.” He spat out the words and Sunset saw Twilight take a long gulp of her drink out of the corner of her eye. This Flash didn’t seem to have a sense of humour, really. Sunset much preferred theirs. The Guard shook his head. “Ponies these days tell legends of the great Flash Magnus.”

“That must be hard to live up to,” Flash said. “At least you’re in pretty good shape.” When he got a raised eyebrow from a confused guards-stallion, Flash looked equally as baffled. “You’re a royal guard for a princess, right?”

The Guard nodded. “That’s nothing compared to my father.”

Flash clapped his interdimensional counterpart on his clinky armoured back. “Hey, man. Don’t sell yourself short. I think you deserve a little body positivity…”

Sunset would’ve liked to hear that conversation. Really, she would. But all of her attention was stolen away the minute she saw the next patrons of the bar stopping dead before them: Princess Twilight’s five best friends in all Equestria stood before the Rainbooms. Their exact mirrors. “Well, well, well…” the Equestrian Rainbow Dash said, flying above her four other friends. “‘Sup, newbies?”

For a stunned second, it seemed like no one could move, their expressions nigh mirrored back at them. To the point that the Pinkies decided to actively try to mirror each other’s crazy movements and faces by dancing in place, waving, making faces at each other, until they each booped the other on the nose and giggle-snorted. “Whee! This is fun!”

“Oh great,” Sunset’s Rainbow said, her snout wrinkling. “Surround-sound.”

“Oh goodness,” Equestrian Fluttershy uttered, finding herself staring back at her. “Twilight said you’d look exactly like us but I didn’t think she meant this exactly like us…”

Fluttershy murmured, looking into her non-alcoholic fruit punch. “You’re telling me…”

The Equestrian Rarity took the opportunity to offer out a hoof to her (for some reason) younger self. “Rarity? I’m er, well, I’m Rarity. Charmed. Might I say, what a fabulous ensemble! Set of ensembles! I presume you designed these all yourself?”

Rarity shook her own hoof, “You presume correctly! And I presume the simply gorgeous formal wear you and your friends are wearing are also a Rarity original?”

“Right again, darling! Quite the clever one!” They both laughed at their own joke.

Sunset’s Applejack stared at them. “Oh lord…”

“You must allow me to pick your brain on that cross-stitching! And is that a satin croup stitch I see?”

“Oh you’re one to talk, darling, I must know how on earth you designed around the proportions of a pony…” The two of them wandered off to gab each other’s ears off.

Equestrian Applejack sighed in unison with the highschool senior AJ. Both of them said at once: “I need a drink.”

“I’m buyin,” AJ told her, her cup somehow already empty. 

“Boy howdy. Remember when we were farmers?” Equestrian AJ asked as she took a seat at the bar. “These days I hardly have the time! Between teachin’ classes and savin’ the world, I’m tellin’ ya. Remember when the biggest thing we had to worry about was fertilizing the back forty before dark instead of lassoing in all our friends’ and their feather-headed tomfoolery?”

She and Canterlot High AJ smiled, staring off into the far distance. 

“Yeah.” CHS AJ matched her counterpart’s knowing smile. “The good ol’ days sure were boring, huh?”

“Eeyup.” She knocked one frothing, alcoholic cider tankard against the other.

CHS Fluttershy seemed a bit timid in approaching the other, but the older Flutters offered a kind smile. “This must be quite odd for you to see. Are you alright?”

“Oh, um, it’s not your fault I’m a little shaken,” she told herself, resting a hoof over her no doubt pounding heart. “I get shaken very easily...”

Fluttershy nodded, her smile lighting up. “Oh, I do, too. I feel the same way!”

CHS Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“Well, it’s the way I am, and I guess it’s the way you are, too!” She held up a matching glass of fruit punch. “Over time I’ve learned that that’s a fine way to be. Maybe there are some ponies who think being easily scared or introverted are bad things, but that doesn’t mean I have to think that way. It works for me and I wouldn’t want to be anypony else.”

CHS Fluttershy looked in awe of her other self. “I suppose you’re right. Being someone else is exhausting. You shouldn’t have to change yourself.” She bit her lip, clearly deciding if she should take a risk here. “Have you ever heard of a band called Skullcruncher?”

Meanwhile, the Rainbow Dashs had other ideas. 

Equestrian Rainbow Dash flew around the other in circles, like a general assessing a new recruit; and the recruit, for her part, seemed to look over the other just as skeptically. “So,” Equestrian RD said, a hoof to her chin. “You’re your world’s Rainbow Dash, huh?”

“Yup! The one and only best Rainbow Dash!”

The Wonderbolt’s eyebrows raised. “Whoa, wait, what?” She seemed to stare off into the distance, muttering, “Is that what I sounded like?” before setting her jaw to the side. “So what? You think you’re hot shit?”

“Hard not to think what I know,” she quipped. 

The Wonderbolt landed directly in front of her. “Hang on, newbie, there’s no way you’re the best Rainbow Dash. What are you, like, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen and a half. I’m in my prime!” she said, puffing out her chest. “What are you, forty???”

The Wonderbolt snorted. “Twenty seven, and wouldn’t matter if I was! Try experienced. That’s way more awesome than some dumb punk kid! I’m a Wonderbolt!”

RD crossed her hooves. “Yeah? Well, I’m the Wondercolt captain of all the sports teams in school.”

“Yeah?! Well, I’m the youngest ever to make the most elite flight group in Equestria! How well can you even fly over there in monkey land, anyway? How many Rainbooms have you done? What are your stats, huh? What’s your highest divebomb?”

CHS RD paled at that last part. “Uh⁠—what do stats matter next to actual ass-kicking? See this scar?” She gestured to the newly formed scar cutting through her left eye. “Got that defending my friends from an evil demon lord. Beat that.”

“Yeah? Well, I got this one fighting the lord of chaos himself! He’s kind of our friend now or whatever⁠—but that’s beside the point!”

“You wanna go? You wanna go?!” The highschooler seemed intent on goading the one pushing thirty into a fight and it looked like she wouldn’t get it.

Not until the Wonderbolt reared back around on her. “Push-up contest! Go!”

Both of them got down in their dress and tuxedo respectively and started doing pushups on the ballroom floor. They counted out each rep as they went. Sunset was tired just looking at them. 

Then again, she was also tired looking at the Pinkies trying to crack each other up and being successful at it. They’d sat themselves at a nearby table that the human Pinkie was pounding a hoof on. Equestrian Pinkie giggle-snorted. “Wow, talk about laughing at your own jokes!”

“Ha! Aww, you’re so funny, Pinkie! We should hang out in your party cave again sometime!”

“Thanks, Pinkie! You too! Or us two, as the case may be! Wheee!” The two of them burst into another round of giggles. 

“This is terrifying,” Sunset mumbled below her breath to Twilight, who nodded with fear. 

“I’m not certain the multiverse won’t implode from their interactions alone,” Twilight said, watching one Pinkie pull a water-squirting flower on the other, only for that Pinkie to meet it with a hoof-buzzer from apparently nowhere. 

Timber hummed, lip poking out. “Not with a bang but with a⁠—”

A whoopie cushion made the sound of a particularly wet fart. 

Timber beamed at Twilight’s staple-shaped frown. He ribbed her. “Not a bad way to go! Beats heat death!”

“I’m not too sure it does,” she groused, but then took a breath. She watched Timber taking interest in another deer, comparing the little wiggle of his triangle tail. “Regardless, I’m glad it’s so easy for everyone else to meet their counterpart. It can be a lot.” 

“Yeah, and not having a counterpart is no walk in the park either,” Sunset said, staring into the bottom of her glass. When she noticed Twilight and Timber looking at her, she continued, “It’s kinda nice, but in a weird way it’s a lot of pressure. Nopony else is responsible for my choices, or can tell me what to do. All of it’s up to me, you know? What happens when I choose wrong?”

Before either could answer, a voice across the ballroom rang from the double-doors. Spike, here a dragon in a tuxedo instead of a Pomeranian, called out to the gathered guests. “Fillies, gentlecolts, and, uh, well, everybody else! We’re so glad you could make it, thanks for coming out!” He got a cheer from an oddly coloured changeling. “All rise for the new Queen of Equestria: Princess Twilight Sparkle!”

A pair of royal trumpeters played a riff before giving the cheering crowd what they wanted: the dork they all came here to see. Princess Twilight had, at some point in the day, changed out of her fancy coronation dress, because of course she had. Sunset just knew if it was her, she’d be wearing the tiara and dress for weeks on end afterwards just to lord it over everyone. Ponies would’ve had to claw them away from her cold dead hooves. 

Her undead hooves applauded with the others, watching Princess Twilight make the rounds to say hi to all her guests. 

While the others were occupied with their other selves, Sunset thought to go give her congratulations. She hadn’t planned on Twilight and the boys tagging along with her⁠—she didn’t want to put pressure on her Twilight to talk to Princess Twilight when she wasn’t up for it⁠—but she soon found Twilight, Flash, and Timber outpacing her on a warpath to Princess Twilight, who turned around from grabbing some hayfries at the buffet. 

Before Sunset herself had the chance to get a word in edgewise, Twilight stalked up to her counterpart and narrowed her eyes. “You.”

“Oh, Twilight! It’s been so long⁠—”

“You killed Sunset Shimmer?!” Twilight asked, probably a little louder than she meant to, but she didn’t back down. She stood almost protectively in between the princess and her marefriend. “You obliterated her instead of coming to earth to have a conversation like a normal person?!”

Princess Twilight tittered. “O-oh, well, uh, yes technically she may have been deceased for a little bit but⁠—” 

“A little deceased?” Flash asked, standing just as protectively in front of Sunset now who knew to let these dorks get this out of their systems. “That’s our best friend!”

“Well, of course, but⁠—” 

“You don’t think she’s been through enough?” Timber erupted forth, to the point that Sunset was surprised there weren’t flames shooting out of his chest. “Ugh. Classic Twilight!” The human world’s Twilight nodded angrily beside him.

Princess Twilight made a face. “Er, who are you?”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “And it didn’t occur to you to at least give us a little warning?” She folded her arms, looking dead-eyed with how snarky she was at the moment. “Or would communication have been too much trouble for the Princess of Friendship?”

Princess Twilight flailed into her shoulders. “That’s how it happened to me! I thought that’s just how ascending to alicornhood worked.”

“And another thing!” Flash took a long drought of his drink, summoning the courage to politely utter, “Interdimensional princess or not, I would have appreciated a conversation to at least close the loop between us.”

The pink on Princess Twilight’s cheeks blossomed. “Oh, um, gosh. I’m so sorry, you’re right. That was unfair to you.”

Flash nodded and relaxed into a smile. “Thanks. Congrats, by the way. And in the spirit of closing the loop: meet my boyfriend, Timber Spruce.”

Eyes wide from watching his friends lean into her, Timber the coltfriend gave a little wave. “Heya. I’m the new boytoy. Or stagtoy?”

Princess Twilight’s nerves melted into a smile. “Timber Spruce? Sunset’s mentioned you before. Aww, that’s⁠—wow, really? That’s great! I’m so happy for you two.”

Twilight also took the moment to offer out her hoof. “And I’m really happy for you. This is huge. Queen of an entire nation? How did that happen?”

Princess Twilight giggled, gratefully shaking what was technically her own hoof. “My friends somehow kept me sane.” She brightened, a sly smile overcoming her features. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Sunset Shimmer in the past few months. Almost nonstop.” 

Before Twilight could stammer out some blushed remark, Princess Twilight’s eyes sparkled. “Not the least of which being magical and human world technological integration?! That sounds incredible! I could never think of something like that in a million years!” She muttered something about not having the chance now that tugged a bit at Sunset’s heart, but she let it slide. 

Mostly because it gave Twilight the opportunity to blush furiously. “You… want to know about my research?”

“Absolutely! It sounds remarkable! We should really catch up sometime⁠—er, when I’m not burning your marefriend alive.” She offered a shaky smile, definitely getting the message that she wasn’t completely off the hook for that yet. “The amount of research that goes into a project like that, and all the time you get to spend just observing your friends and their magic… your life sounds like a dream. I almost wish we could trade places! It feels like it’s been moons since I just got to sit down and read a book.” It was at that moment that Princess Twilight most resembled a wartime wife out on the widow’s balcony, wistfully waiting for the day when her lover would return. “I miss books.”

Timber raised an eyebrow, poking his nose in. “Trade places, you say?”

Sunset bapped him. 

Twilight hummed. “It is a dream. You should try it sometime. From one Twilight to another, I totally recommend it. But it’s not like you’re not living one yourself. I really hope you enjoy it.”

Princess Twilight thanked her other self who left with the boys to hit up the bartender for a refill, but that left Sunset to catch the little catch in the princess’s breath. 

Left to reveal herself from the crowd, Sunset Shimmer gave Princess Twilight a smirk. “Congratulations, princess.” 

“Sunset!” The ruler of the free world pounced on her, wrapping her hooves around her back. “You made it! You’re okay! And wow, oh my gosh, I honestly wasn’t expecting you to still have your wings! I didn’t know that was possible.”

Sunset glanced down at them, trying not to flex. She shrugged. “Yeah, me neither. That’s kind of my thing. Kind of seems like it’s your thing too now, Miss First Queen in Equestrian History.” With one hoof still slung around her, Sunset lightly socked her one. 

Princess Twilight sunk into her shoulders. “I don’t think I’ll ever live that coronation down. It would’ve been so much easier with you there to talk some sense into me.”

“Hey. You’re going to do great without me.”

Something seemed to swell behind her eyes, but whatever it was, Princess Twilight just nodded gratefully. 

Just then Princess Cadence’s voice sounded out across to them. “Twilight! Sunset! We saved your seats!”

Right next to the bar and the multiples of their friends, the head table sat with the most influential mares in the universe, and two open seats. Princess Luna made faces at a young foal Shining Armour seemed to be trying to get to sleep. Princess Celestia took a sip of her sparkling cider. Princess Cadance waved them over.

Princess Twilight brightened and started over as Sunset stopped in her tracks. “I’m… sitting with you?”

Princess Twilight turned back. “Oh, well, technically you have two seats. I figured you’d want to sit with your friends tonight⁠—plus I think Starlight wanted to see you⁠—and we won’t keep you for long! But yes.” She smiled lightly. “We wanted you to know you’ve always got a seat at the table with us.”

Sunset smiled, following after her through the jungle of party patrons migrating towards the dance floor. 

Her heart beat harder than the speakers blasting out a dance jam. She took her seat next to Princess Twilight and felt the welcoming swoon of a table of eyes all glued to her and her new wings. Princess Cadence brightened “So the legends were true,” she said, eyebrow angled. “There’s a new alicorn in Equestria after all.”

“Only for a few drinks,” Sunset said, raising her chalice. 

Cadence levitated a sippy cup of fresh Sweet Apple Acres apple juice to her daughter. “I heard! I can’t believe you said no.”

“I can’t believe you got to call Princess Celestia mom!” Twilight squawked, definitely not reddening. 

“Yes, it was all quite a shock,” Princess Celestia agreed. Sunset found her eyes for the first time since tossing the word out so casually. In front of her sister and her pupil no less. “But a welcome one. Luna thinks motherhood suits me.” 

The distant pop of fireworks punctuated the feeling in Sunset’s chest as her mom smiled at her.

Princess Luna seemed to be biting back some retort about Celestia’s age, so she and her new niece shared a snicker across the dinner table. Sunset liked her new aunt already. 

“I must admit,” Princess Celestia said, pointedly ignoring her sister and daughter. “It’s been a dream of mine for quite some time. For longer than you’ll ever know.” There was something far away in her eyes, as if looking back into the vast expanses of space as galaxies spun. “I suppose I had ulterior motives in becoming your mentor.”

Princess Twilight absolutely definitely wasn’t as red as an unripe plum.

Since it was her coronation day, Sunset took mercy on her. Leaning a cheek into her hoof, she avoided laughing. “Yeah, you did. Maybe that’s why I learned better under Princess Twilight. No real authority to rebel against.” She winked.

Princess Twilight looked genuinely miffed at the suggestion. “Authority? Why would there be? Just because I’m the Princess of Friendship doesn’t mean I’m not still learning, too. You’ve always been just as capable of being an expert in friendship as I am! You’ve mastered lessons I’m still just grasping now!”

Sunset gestured towards her. “Exhibit A.”

Princess Twilight blinked. “Oh, I see your point. Well, I’m glad my teaching style worked for you, although…”

“Although?”





Princess Twilight’s eyes darted to Princess Celestia’s, who nodded in kind. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far. It’s just bittersweet to see my time as your teacher come to an end. You didn’t even accept my graduation present.”

Sunset faltered. Somehow, despite her graduation ceremony in the stars, she hadn’t really thought about how things would change. No more writing her lessons to Princess Twilight in the journal. No more one-on-one talks when Sunset had struggles, or magic ran amok. While she could (and planned on) keeping in contact with Princess Twilight, for all intents and purposes, she was on her own.

What else was new?

It only occurred to her now that she hadn’t once asked for Princess Twilight’s help this entire time. Their correspondence in the journal had been a bit short, with how busy they both were. But she knew it wasn’t the first time she’d wound up dealing with magic and demons without the princess there to guide her.

She just hadn’t expected the last time to be the last.

Sunset took the hug she could see Princess Twilight wanted to give her. “... Thank you, Twi.”

“I knew you could do it,” Princess Twilight told her in answer, wiping fresh tears away from her eyes. “I always did.”

Sunset smirked sympathetically, completing her sentence for her, “But you didn’t expect the no.”

Princess Twilight shook her head. “No… no, I didn’t. I should’ve, I know your friends mean more to you than a crown, but I was hoping…” She didn’t need to finish. It wasn’t like Sunset hadn’t thought about it since declining; that Twilight wanted a sister in immortality. A Luna to her Celestia, even. 

Parting from the hug, Sunset had to be honest with the royalty around the table. “It’s for the best. I’m needed in my world, that’s where my home is, and honestly… I don’t know if I can make choices that have that much impact. The King Sombra of our world needed me, and long story short, I don’t think I made the right call. Or, maybe I did because I saved the most people I could, but... I lost him.”

Every other time Sunset had recounted that story so far, it had been to her friends, or herself. People who had been there. There was a part of her that⁠—that guilty-hearted devil⁠—that expected or even wanted them to turn on her. But she was only met with looks she used to misinterpret as pity: heavy, aching understanding. 

And how many of them could say they’d always made the right calls? Even when they claimed to?

She almost expected Princess Celestia to launch into some lecture on the responsibility it takes to be a princess of Equestria, the strength of character. Instead, her mom softened, “I can’t tell you how many choices I wish I could take back. Some of which impacted ponies in this very room.”

Luna seemed taken aback. “Sister…”

“I’ve never been perfect,” Princess Twilight added. “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve failed.”

Princess Cadance smiled at her husband and babbling baby daughter. “Life’s always much messier than we anticipated.”

“To messy lives!” All of Sunset’s friends, who were still in earshot apparently, toasted to her as they got another round at the bar with, what appeared to be, themselves. Timber knocked glasses with Twilight.

Princess Celestia still seemed possessed by the spirit of something on her mind. “King Sombra has always been a very… unique case,” she admitted, almost not noticing Sunset’s friends gathering to pull Sunset away to the bar the first chance they got. 

There was this intensity to Princess Celestia’s gaze that the poets of this world often compared to the blaze of the summer sun. “The Sombra of this world was always known to be cruel. The Sombra I knew in another world was kinder than he ever knew himself to be, and… I loved him dearly. This was a time before you were born, so I cannot expect anypony here to know what we lost. No Equestrian history book will tell that side of his heart, but his darkness didn’t define him. I’m not surprised you came into conflict. You have a lot in common.”

At exactly that moment, one of the Pinkie Pies gasped so loudly that she almost seemed to float off the ground. “Ohhhhh. My. Gosh!” 

Sunset didn’t appreciate it interrupting Celestia in the middle of an important conversation, but she supposed there was no accounting for a sugared-up Pinkie at a party. She’d known what she was getting into. She must have gotten distracted.

Even her Equestrian counterpart seemed a bit confuzzled, scratching her pink swirly mane. “Ooo! Are you thinking what I’m thinking and it’s time to bring out the cake!? I knew I liked you.”

Giggling, the Equestrian Pinkie bounced away with the one from Canterlot High, despite her protests, which, it seemed, would soon be forgotten with cake anyway.

Sunset shook her head, wondering if she’d seen free churros at the buffet or something. Princess Twilight giggled along with her. “Pinkie Pie is a universal constant.”

“Yup, no matter what dimension, she’s still Pinkie,” Sunset chuckled.

Princess Celestia’s eyes were still wide from the interruption, looking a bit shaken. Sunset would’ve thought she’d be used to Pinkie’s Pinkieness by now (but she understood it took time to adjust). Her eyes snapped on her daughter. “Sunset, I won’t keep you from the party for long, but may I steal you away for a mother-daughter talk?”





Exiting the party into the dark of the hall, Sunset followed after Princess Celestia like she had so many times as a foal. The sound of their hoofsteps was crisp compared to the muffled beat and commotion of the party, along with the crackle of fire in wall sconce torches. Her mom used to guide her back to bed when a ball went past her bedtime, much to her protests. But she could tell there was something more troubling on her mother’s mind as she unlocked a room Sunset had never been inside across from the ballroom.

Watching the complex lock spell, Sunset’s brow lifted. “What did you want to talk about? Don’t go all mystic mentor on me.”

The door pushed open, the dim hall light casting a door-shaped ray into the dust. Princess Celestia entered dauntlessly, walking past shelves of baubles and artefacts the world over could only tell legends of. “There’s so much I haven’t told you…”

Sunset’s eyes wandered over the darkened room⁠—a sailing map denoting a secret entrance to the Underworld under the pyramids of Geesa. A star map to the moon. A chest wrapped in chains and runes so ancient even Sunset didn’t recognize them. “What is all this?”

Princess Celestia didn’t answer. She came to the most mundane item in the room, and with her magic, unveiled a white sheet off of an empty, ovular frame on a set of two steps. “You deserve to know the truth.”

Sunset slowed her steps, coming up beside her. “The truth?”

“I wish I could have told you so much sooner. All these years⁠—if only I had known…”  The princess shut her eyes, sighing. She brought a hoof to Sunset’s cheek, now treasuring the sight of her. “But we finally have the relationship I always wanted for us. You can’t know how precious that is to me, little sun.”

Sunset’s heart picked up in her chest. “Same here, Mom. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

Princess Celestia’s eyes lingered on her a moment, then something settled in her expression. She nodded. “...Neither would I,” she decided. She left Sunset’s side to touch the empty frame. “I’ve told you of the King Sombra I loved, the remarkable good in the heart of a stallion lost to dark magic. This was once the only gateway I had to his world.”

Her heart dropped in her chest as Sunset whispered the words, “This was a mirror?”

“Once,” she said, caressing the side. “The balance of our worlds sat on a precarious scale. My time with him upset the harmony of the multiverse and the only way to save us all was to shatter our connection. And, any hope that I might see him again.”

The empty space in the frame was violently haunting. All Sunset could think back to was the sledgehammer she’d almost used at the Fall Formal. And Solstice, who just like every other Sombra before him, might now be just as lost. 

Out of all the relics in the fortified vault, Princess Celestia’s golden magic picked up a jagged, shiny item from the dust of the shelf. She held it up in front of Sunset, who could see her own reflection staring back. “This is the only piece of his world I have left. The magic may be gone from this mirror forever. If anypony can find a way to reach him,” she said smiling, “I suspect it might be you.”

Sunset took the mirror shard in her own magic, her brow drawn together like curtains. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Keep it anyway.” Princess Celestia guided her out of the vault back into the hall. “You may yet surprise yourself.”

Sunset saw a piece of herself staring back at her. And she smiled at her reflection. The sounds of the party drew her eye, and through the columns, she could see her best friends, her family all laughing together. Human and Equestrian together, laughing, drinking, and Timber Spruce’s terrible, terrible dancing. 

The clinks and clamour of the ballroom warmed her heart, where her family gathered all together, for the first time in her life. “Well, you’re right about that.” She tucked the mirror shard into her leather jacket’s inner-pocket, a chill next to her heart, as she stood in the doorway caught half in shadow, half in the warmth of golden light. She smirked at her mom before joining Princess Twilight’s celebration. Sunset Shimmer popped her own collar. “I live to surprise.”