//------------------------------// // Catalyst // Story: Aces High // by Lupin //------------------------------// Chapter 1: Catalyst When Sunset Shimmer, former student of Princess Celestia and former unicorn wizard of Equestria, met her friends in the Canterlot High Library that morning, her thoughts had been occupied by one thing: The strange girl who had been lurking around the portal that led to Sunset's birthplace. The others, however, had their minds on something else: The Friendship Games. “Really, darling,” said Rarity, flicking back a lock of her curly purple hair. “I'm shocked you aren't aware of Crystal Prep's behavior by now. Weren't you here the last time the games were held?” “Yeah.” Despite the name, Canterlot High School was a combined school, containing classes for what were traditionally middle school levels, sixth through eighth grade, as well as the usual high school grades of ninth through twelfth. Sunset, who had arrived in this world in an eleven-year-old's body thanks to the portal's magic, had waited a full year before entering CHS for the seventh grade, when the last games had taken place. “But only ninth grade and above can participate, so I pretty much ignored the whole thing.” She'd had more important things to do, anyway, like learning about this dimension and acquiring money to survive. Apparently, she'd missed some deep and bitter school rivalry. Which was ironic, since in her dark days as queen bee of the school, she could have used that information to her advantage. The redhead shrugged. “Seems kinda silly to me.” “Silly?!” protested the others. Rainbow crossed her arms over her chest. “So, I guess you think the Friendship Games are silly, too?” “Well, it's not like we'll be fighting the powers of evil magic,” she retorted calmly, thinking back to the incident with the Dazzlings, the trio of sirens banished to this dimension from Equestria who fed on negative emotions and had tried to take over the world with their hypnotic music. That had been interesting, in hindsight, now that she was past all the emotional turmoil. It reminded her of the days in Equestria when she'd faced down manticores and dragons as part of her studies. A school rivalry, by contrast, seemed far too...tame. “No,” interjected Fluttershy in the softest, gentlest way possible. “We'll be fighting against a school full of meanies. Not everything has to be magical to be important.” Sunset opened her mouth to reply, and immediately closed it. None of them had done what she'd done, and within the world of high school, this sort of thing did matter. “You're right. I'm sorry,” she apologized. “I know it's a big deal.” Rarity scoffed. “That's putting it mildly, darling. They're still revamping the playing field in preparation.” Sunset frowned as a new thought occurred to her. “Why is there such a big rivalry, anyway? Aren't the Friendship Games about our two schools getting along?” “Well, it's kinda hard to get along with someone who beats you at everything,” answered Applejack flatly. “Not anymore!” declared Rainbow fiercely. “This time, things are gonna be different.” She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” The athlete grinned like a cat that had eaten a canary. “Oh, you'll see. I have an ace up my sleeve.” ”I'm playing poker, and I had an ace up my sleeve!” The room was spinning. Or was it her brain? The thought, was it a thought, pushed its way through her mind. Behind it followed images, rushing at her like an army charging through a sudden gap. A magical portal. A sorceress in golden armor. Knights hidden among the trees. A monster bound in silver with horns and skin of blue and a face like Hell itself. Who was speaking? It wasn't her voice, but it sounded so... “Are you alright, darling?” Sunset blinked, and the world reoriented itself, details merging back into focus. The decaying priory that had danced before her eyes dispelled, so that only the Canterlot High Library remained. “Yeah, I...guess I got distracted, that's all.” “Are you sure?” asked Rarity, frowning. “You seemed a tad ill for a moment.” “Come on!” complained Rainbow Dash. “You can’t be getting sick right before the games!” A butter yellow hand found its way to Sunset’s forehead. “You don't seem to have a fever,” said Fluttershy with relief. “Oh, no!” gasped Pinkie. “What if she has some magical pony plague and it infects the entire school?!” She frantically grabbed Applejack by the shirt. “She could turn into a rainbow cookie zombie, or maybe a tree!” “Okay, Pinkie, one, there is no such thing as a cookie zombie, rainbow or otherwise,” answered Sunset, counting off points on her fingers. “Two, turning into a tree is swamp fever, and I haven't been near a swamp since I was ten, so if I'd caught it, I'd definitely have taken root by now, and three, I'm pretty sure most pony diseases wouldn't be able to survive in a human body.” “Are you sure you're okay, though?” asked Fluttershy. “I'm fine,” Sunset assured her. She turned her attention back to Rainbow. “What does that mean?” “What?” “What you said. The thing about having a...” for some reason, she found it hard to remember. “Aw, shoot,” laughed Applejack. “That's just an old poker sayin' for when you've got a trick or two in store. You've really never heard that before now?” added the farmer with disbelief. Sunset shook her head. “Nope. Must have missed it somehow.” She'd missed the Crystal Prep rivalry, and she knew she wasn't up to date on her cultural references, so a piece of slang wasn't that odd. What had she been thinking about, though? She tried to recall, but whatever it was, it had slipped away like a sandcastle in the waves. “Course, I'm still wonderin' about what you're plannin', Rainbow,”. Applejack narrowed her eyes at the athlete. “You're not thinkin’ of cheatin’, are you?” “What? No,” assured Rainbow, in a manner that was in no way reassuring. Before Sunset or any of them could press her any further, the school bell rang. “You'll find out at the assembly!” was Rainbow's only answer before she went racing off into the river of students. “She's up to somethin',” said Applejack. “We'll find out eventually,” agreed Sunset. “Come on, we have to get to class.” As they all walked out of the library, Sunset passed by the main desk, and spied one of the books piled for return. Le Morte d'Armor by Sir Tinny Mallard. A tiny part of her couldn't help but think that the book got it wrong. Rainbow Dash’s secret weapon ended up being school spirit. Kind of disappointing, in Sunset’s opinion, considering how much Rainbow had been bragging, but the athlete always could come up with a great song, so she supposed it all balanced out. If only she hadn’t ponied up on stage. Without playing her guitar. It was one thing to be thrust into an adventure, but it was another thing entirely to have the rules you thought you knew slip out from under you at the same time. That was...less fun. Especially when it was your responsibility to figure it out. The games proceeded on schedule, and Sunset's suspicions about the girl, who had turned out to be the human doppelganger of Princess Twilight, were, sadly, not unfounded. Amidst the whirlwind of events, magical chaos, and the stress of trying to understand and contain the ever-changing magic she’d brought into this dimension, the strange thoughts from the library fell to the wayside. Except during the early parts of the Academic Decathlon. As she’d switched on the burner for the chemistry portion of the challenge, it was like something had switched on inside her as well. A sort of boundless enthusiasm overtook her, something she hadn’t experienced since she was a filly on the first day of alchemy lessons, only far stronger, enough to make her wonder if this was what it was like to be Pinkie Pie. Her eyes had rushed over the chemical containers. She’d always been excellent in chemistry here, and in alchemy back home, a prodigy, according to her instructors. But in that moment, it was like the feeling that blazed inside her had somehow magnified her skills. Her brain worked through problems and experiments with an ease that was hard to describe, and harder for the others to keep pace with. In the end, it was her team, mostly her, that brought home the victory with a score that dwarfed every team from Crystal Prep by, as Applejack put it, “a country mile”. It wasn’t a complete victory, there was still the rest of the decathlon to go, but for the students of Canterlot High, who had never beaten Crystal Prep at anything, it was sweet, nonetheless. Naturally, Rainbow took credit for inspiring them all. As she accepted the win with a smile that could have outshone the sun, a single thought passed through her mind: She wished she could have gone for a more energetic reaction. The games had ended with the two schools calling a tie. Not precisely the win either side had originally hoped for, but after the chaos that had unfolded with the second event, nobody was complaining. Besides, it felt in the spirit of the games. Sunset strode across the sports field, searching for one person in particular...and there she was. The human Twilight Sparkle, seated on one of the hay bales for the archery portion of the Tricross Relay. Sunset made her way over. “So, this is where you slipped off to.” “Oh!” Twilight jolted, and would have fallen off the edge of the bale, were it not for Sunset hoisting her back by the arm. “I didn’t mean for you to take it literally,” joked Sunset. “S-Sorry!” blurted the other girl, purple cheeks tinged with red. “I didn’t mean to worry...Spike isn’t searching for me, is he?” “Nah,” replied Sunset with a shake of her head. “He’s pretty distracted with Fluttershy. Honestly, I’m not sure anyone’s else has really noticed you’re gone, yet.” Carefully, she sat down beside the girl, breathing in the familiar, and still delicious smell of hay, and wishing she could eat it, rather than simply sit on it. It really wasn’t fair. Despite the omnivorous nature of humans, they couldn’t digest the stuff. Sunset would have happily taken up one of the staples of the equine diet. But, no, as she’d discovered, not only would it draw strange looks (not that her love of ketchup-smothered carrot dogs didn’t draw those looks anyway), the one time she’d tried to eat hay, her digestive tract had severely punished her for it. “Why are you out here?” she asked, getting back on topic. Now was not the time to focus on her stomach. “Kinda thought you wouldn’t want to be alone.” “I don’t...sort of,” Twilight fumbled. “I’m just...nervous.” “About transferring?” Twilight nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not that I’m having doubts!” she said quickly, and then added, “I just wonder what my family will think.” A finger twirled around a lock of hair that had slipped from her bun. “My brother’s always been proud to have gone to Crystal Prep, and my parents, and my grandparents. I know Cadance will support me, but...” “It’s a big change?” Twilight nodded again. Sunset leaned back, taking in another breath of hay-scented air. “Well, I can’t say I know what to do about your family. Never really had one.” She watched as Twilight’s eyes widened in sympathy. “But if they love you, I think they’ll be okay with it. And besides,” she added with a snort. “After the way Principal Cinch treated you, your parents should be overjoyed at a transfer.” That got a chuckle out of Twilight. “I suppose that’s true. My brother will probably go ballistic.” She paused, her eyes moving across the field, and landing on the crater left behind when Rainbow had air-tackled one of the giant plants. “You’ve all been really nice to me.” Sunset shrugged. “Like I told you, I’ve been where you are. Believe it or not, I used to be a bully.” Twilight’s head whirled around to face her, open-mouthed. “You?!” “Yup. Worst one in the school,” she admitted with no small amount of shame. “But with help, I got better. Turned my life around.” She paused, remembering something else that had been weighing on her mind. “Look, I want to apologize for tearing into you during the games.” “I deserved it,” Twilight replied softly. “You were completely justified.” “Doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.” The redhead sighed. “I’ve got kind of a hot temper. Always have. And despite it all, you didn’t deserve to get hit with it.” Twilight smiled, just a little. “I’m finding it very hard to imagine you were ever a bully.” “Are you calling me a liar?” Sunset answered in mock offense. “Data points don’t lie, and so far my dataset suggests it’s impossible,” was the authoritative reply. Both of them burst out laughing. “Honestly, I’m also still trying to wrap my head around all of this,” admitted Twilight. “Magic. Portals to a different dimension. Spike being able to talk. You all seem to be taking it in stride. You most especially.” Sunset shrugged again. “Magic’s been a fact of life for me, though I will admit that even I don’t totally get how it’s working these days. At least around here.” “And it’s really magic?” asked Twilight in disbelief. “I mean, not some form of technology or energy or...?” Just like that, her thoughts were swirling again. No, not swirling...swimming. Images rising up from below the surface. A vast lake. A tunnel, dark and damp, ribbed like the insides of some enormous aquatic beast. Organic. Alive. A giant fish face with steel teeth guarding a passage. A voice rang in her ears. “What’s Clarke’s Law?” “Sunset?” “Hmm?” Sunset snapped back to reality to find Twilight waving a purple hand in front of her face. “What?” “You zoned out,” answered Twilight with worry. “And anyway, you got it backwards.” “Excuse me?” “Lark’s Law,” Twilight supplied. “It’s ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic,’ not ‘any sufficiently advanced form of magic is indistinguishable from technology.’” Sunset tilted her head. Had she said that just now? She didn’t remember even opening her mouth. Shaking her head, she decided she must have been worn down from the day’s events, and instead turned her attention to the statement in question. “Wouldn’t it work both ways, though?” Magic in Equestria was studied and refined rather like science and technology, even if the methods and rules weren’t quite the same. In fact, the very word “science” was just another, lesser used and frankly uncommon word for discussing the study of magic. “I...suppose,” replied Twilight, the “I just swallowed a lemon whole” expression on her face indicating just how uncomfortably the idea sat with her. “But you’ve really known about it your whole—” “YO! There you two are!” They both turned to see Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Applejack approaching the field. “Looks like they finally noticed,” quipped Sunset. “We were wonderin’ where you two moseyed off,” called Applejack. Beside her, Rainbow grinned. “Trying to find some alone time?” “Rainbow Dash!” admonished Rarity. “What a crude thing to say!” Sunset’s cheeks blazed as red as her hair. “I was just looking for Twilight!” she protested. “I-I’m sorry,” apologized Twilight, her own cheeks very much aflame. “I had some things to think about and I...um...” “Chillax,” said Rainbow, waving a dismissive hand. “I was just teasing.” “Anywho,” said Applejack, giving the athlete an annoyed eye roll. “Pinkie Pie’s makin’ some snacks with the rest of the home ec students to celebrate the tie. Figured we’d better find you two before Pinkie noticed and went nuts.” “Good idea,” agreed Sunset. A frantic Pinkie often led to trouble. Plus, she didn’t want to miss out on the food. As someone who had partaken of the best that royal chefs could produce, she’d put Pinkie in one of the top tiers of desert creation. “Come on,” she said to Twilight. “You’ll love Pinkie’s cooking.” “Alright.” Together, they walked back to the main school building. As they went, Twilight turned her attention back to Sunset. “Thank you...for everything.” “Anytime.” Twilight’s expression suddenly turned puzzled. “How exactly did your team manage to create a copy of the Mona Lisa inside a layer cake, anyway? Was that more magic?” Sunset laughed. “Nah. I think that was just Pinkie Pie, and she’s something nobody could ever understand.” Twilight huffed, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I find that highly improbable.” “Trust me,” replied Sunset, “spend enough time around her, and you’ll see what I mean.” A few days later, they’d all gotten together after the games to have a picnic after class, including the human Twilight, still dressed in her Crystal Prep uniform, the same one she’d be ditching by next week when her transfer went through. Even Princess Twilight made a surprise appearance, albeit far too late to be of any help. Something about time travel, she'd said. Sunset felt strangely nostalgic at the mention, though it was hard to figure out why. Had she ever studied Starswirl's time spells? She didn't think so. There had been so many other subjects to keep her busy. Sunset closed her eyes, leaning back against the sun-warmed stone that framed the portal, trying to remember, trying to place the feeling that itched at the back of her skull. Basking in the sun felt so good, like one of those lazy, hot summer days in Equestria where she’d drift off for a nice mid-afternoon nap after staying up the night before. Her mind turned slowly, even as consciousness sank, turning on the question. Time spells. Time. Time travel. “I just hope this whole thing doesn't expose magic or the portal to the rest of the world,” fretted Princess Twilight, or at least she thought it was Princess Twilight. It sounded louder, and the princess had been closer to her ear. When Sunset opened her eyes again, she found everyone else's trained on her in formidably awkward silence. “...What?” She looked around. “What happened?” “Wow, Sunset,” said Spike the dog. “I'm not even human and I found that harsh.” “Not to mention a bit smug,” added Applejack. The former unicorn frowned. “Did I...say something just now?” “You don’t remember?” asked an incredulous Rarity. Sunset shook her head. “You said,” answered Princess Twilight, “'your species has an amazing capacity for self-deception matched only by its ingenuity when trying to destroy itself.'” Her eyebrows drew together in concern as she regarded her. “I know you've spent more time among humans than I have, but it can't be that bad.” “There have been a couple world wars,” offered the human Twilight, though she didn't look happy to admit it. Her head tilted, sending her glasses sliding down her nose. “Wait, are you two not human?” “Yes and no,” answered Sunset quickly, more focused on the words that had apparently slipped out of her mouth, and the spark of offense they generated inside her. “And I don't think people are that bad. It must have just been something I heard somewhere.” Her face scrunched up in concentration. “Can't remember where.” She shrugged it off. “Anyway, people can be pretty in denial sometimes, and with how prevalent photo and video editing software is, any footage of what happened is more likely to be brushed off then treated as fact, especially if it comes from teenagers. So, we probably don't need to worry just yet.” The concern didn't leave the princess's face. “Sunset, are you sure you’re feeling okay? You seemed really out of it.” “Just like a few days ago in the library!” chirped Pinkie Pie. Princess Twilight turned to glance at the energetic girl. “The library?” “Yeah!” bubbled Pinkie. “We were talking about how the Friendship Games were coming up, and Rainbow Dash was saying how she was sure we'd win this time and Sunset got this funny look on her face.” “You did zone out a bit yesterday, too,” added the human Twilight. “I'm fine,” replied the redhead. “I’m probably just still recovering from directing all that magical energy. That’s bound to take it out of you.” She grinned as something, or rather, someone, moved in the corner of her vision. “Besides, I think you’re about to have other things to focus on...like Flash Sentry.” Princess Twilight gave a very undignified squeak, whirling around to see Flash approaching their little picnic. For the rest of the day, they all talked and laughed, Sunset giving the human Twilight a rough breakdown of where she was from. It was perfect, to say the least. A perfect end to a thrilling adventure, every odd word and passing image totally forgotten. The world was made of ice and steel. Before her stretched what looked vaguely like a 1950s-style diner, blue-green walls painted to give the appearance of frost. She stood there, young and in a waitress uniform, staring out a glass screen in the ceiling beyond, toward stars that appeared strange and out of alignment. She didn’t know much about astronomy. But that didn’t make sense because she did. She knew all Earth’s constellations as well as Terra’s. Try as she might, she couldn’t find Polaris or Orion’s belt, or even the Alicorn and the Minotaur. Instead, she found herself tracing out different ones, the Old Man, the Great Lever, the Waterfall, forms that did not exist, and yet, stared back at her now across the inky black sky, and had done so for months. “Get a move on, girl! I don’t pay you to laze about!” shouted a...man? Or was he a stallion? His image flickered from behind the bar like a broken TV, shifting back and forth between species. She grumbled something that was as unintelligible as it was profane, and picked up her serving tray to walk toward a table. There were new customers there, male and female. The woman...mare? No one or nopony stayed stable here. The female had red hair in wild curls and a bright pink shirt. But it was the man that drew her eye. He sat there, small and unassuming with his hat and scarf, gently tapping the handle of an umbrella. A handle shaped like a question mark. His eyes, blue...gray...no, something in between, moved to her, and she froze. She didn’t know him. But she did, somehow. The intensity of his gaze was so familiar. His name was on the tip of her tongue. It was...it was... Sunset Shimmer’s eyelids opened blearily. Outside, the moon was still early into its descent back under the horizon. She wasn’t really sure what woke her, but awake, she was. She rolled over, turning the switch on the lamp that sat on the nightstand beside her bed. Its glow sparkled across both her phone screen, and the medal she’d won at the Friendship Games. The former proclaimed the time to be 3:32 A.M. “Did I have a nightmare?” she grumbled, running a hand through her tangled wavy hair. She couldn’t recall one. She couldn’t recall a dream, either. Everything was blank, there one moment, and gone the next. “Maybe I was worn out from all that magical energy,” she decided. Throwing off her blankets, she made her way down the stairs from her bedroom and down toward the kitchenette, passing her guitars along the way. She got herself a small glass of water, took a quick trip to the bathroom, and returned to her bed, burying herself beneath the covers. Luck, or exhaustion, was with her, because in a matter of minutes, Sunset returned to the land of slumber. Somewhere, hidden deep in the recesses of her mind, something long buried was beginning to stir.