In the days and weeks after meeting, Sunset texted Cadenza whenever she had a question, getting valuable insight and advice on adapting to the human world - how to use her phone was a pretty urgent one in terms of smoother communication, but also how the education system worked, the ways social groups formed, and other useful information. Cadenza always had something useful to say, and absorbing her input gave Sunset confidence in navigating the new environment.
Their conversations didn’t always dwell on the practical - topics expanding as they got more comfortable with each other, meeting up after shared school events just to chat about whatever went down and how their lives were going. Sunset found herself looking forward to this enough to suggest meeting up just for the sake of it, after a time, and Cadenza proved receptive.
One afternoon, they met up to catch a movie even Sunset had picked up on the hype for - some manner of modern fantasy based on a popular book series that Cadenza estimated everyone into popular culture at either of their highschools would be familiar with. Enjoyable and useful for them both, ideally.
“So frustratingly simplistic,” Cadenza commented afterwards, to Sunset’s amused surprise. “The church did far too good a job at crushing the life out of fairy stories, I think. Making them into the sort of just-so drivel where you can throw them in as a saccharine benefactor or monstrous warning fable to control your children and less convenient populace. I’d almost respect it, but so much of the nuance got pushed out, attempting to add any moral complications back in comes across so - laughably edgy. They’d do better to go back to the old myths.”
“You’d think you took it personally,” Sunset remarked amusedly.
“Hmmph. Maybe I do.”
It was a strange tune Cadenza was humming, just before Sunset caught up with her. Beautiful in an old way, like a baroque composer, but eerie in melody.
Also, she’d not yet heard a human hum a chord.
Sunset wondered if names had their own magic here; if Cadance was as much a special talent as a means of referring to a person.
Then there was the time she caught Cadenza almost getting into an argument with the Shadowbolts. One of the boys - Shining Armor - was protesting some call Sunset understood very little about, and Cadenza seemed to be losing patience with him - until she schooled her features, looked him in the eye and smiled softly.
“I understand you aren’t feeling the best,” Cadenza changed tack after her observations, speaking gently, and Shining Armor groaned in confirmation.
“Got a headache that’s been acting up,” he admitted, to Cadenza’s wince.
“Oh dear,” Cadenza murmured. “Let me try to help you with the tension..”
Sunset felt a twist in her gut as Mi Amore Cadenza moved to massage Shining Armor’s temples; a tight, hot ball of fire simmering angrily just under her diaphragm. She pulled back to take another route rather than interrupt the pair - but not before she caught a glimpse of a pale green glow from Cadenza’s eyes.
The strange pang of jealousy was meaningless - what did she care if Cadenza wanted to give massages to her team when they needed them - but other clues were adding up to be rather meaningful indeed. Mi Amore Cadenza had magic of some form. She was out of the ordinary for this place, with at least subtly inhuman abilities, possessed of knowledge and insight that had already brought Sunset so far - perhaps even farther if she could simply get in on the girl’s secret.
Sunset’s curiosity burned. She didn’t text Cadenza to meet up after the Friendship events - instead mentioning some job duty invented out of whole cloth. Instead, she lingered out of sight of where Cadenza parted from her team, and trailed her at a distance.
When Cadenza turns into a shadowy, secluded alley, Sunset hurried to peek from the corner, and watched entranced.
The pale pink of Cadenza’s skin dripped away as her limbs lengthened to spindly proportions and her fingers stretched into claws, nail-caps spread and hardening into properly solid keratin. Beneath was a skeletally slender creature of midnight-blue darkness and shifting shadows. Pastel curls lost their bounce, flattening into a deep teal mane streaked with the startling glow of electric cyan, jagged-edged and frayed with split ends and inconsistent volume. Violet eyes shifted to green, even the whites of them taking on a reflective glow of pale mint.
She stretched her - wings. Some of the strangest Sunset had ever seen, and yet captivating. In structure they reminded her of a bat’s; but the leathery membrane between the fingerbones was an ethereal, translucent aquamarine, gleaming like the gem’s subtle lustre and as ragged with holes as sheer lace.
Sunset wondered how flight even worked with such a structure - then realized that however it worked, she needed to act before it did. She rushed forward to step into - Cadenza’s? - path.
“You aren’t Cadance.” It’s a strange thing to say, given she’s been addressing the other as Cadenza the whole time - but she’s certain this figure isn’t, can’t, be a counterpart to the pink alicorn.
Hasn’t been from the start.
She’s not particularly worried about her own friend. This explains too much.
“I am not,” the winged woman agrees calmly, unperturbed by Sunset’s sudden presence. “Do you think the human world would accept this form, unperturbed and incurious, treating it as a normal member of society? Cadenza is a necessary mask, to blend in and pursue my aims without … complications. I am sure you are familiar with such necessities.”
The ‘unicorn’ goes unspoken. Unknown, even. Sunset has given her enough clues, asked for enough aid for a fellow infiltrator to discern how out of place she is - but not the specifics.
“So who are you?” Sunset asked. The other smiles a sharp smile, stepping closer to circle her, considering and deliberate in her answer.
“You may call me Chrysalis,” is the start of it, but not the whole, “Fey queen of the damned, the destitute, the hopeless … and the alone. Your heart called out to me, Sunset Shimmer. From the start I knew you to be mine.”
Sunset’s breath quickened, reflexive anger and intrigue at the presumption warring in the heat of her blood. Her own role, though, almost paled in contrast to the tantalizing puzzle Chrysalis presented. She had thought this world near without magic, shallow and dominated by the human civilization with its mundane tools.
Yet here was Chrysalis. In the shadows of secrecy of this world, the supernatural stirred, cloaked and hidden. Masters of magic Sunset may have never seen before, in either realm. She licked her lips, too aware of the part of her that salivated over the possibilities.
Chrysalis had a knowing smile. If the fey woman knew her heart …
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sunset challenged, pulse pounding in her ears. She heard her own barbed tone and reconsidered, repeating a softer form of the question. “I mean - what are you, really? I’ve never met anyone like you even back -”
It hits her that she hasn’t exactly told Chrysalis what she is, either.
“- home.”
Chrysalis studies her contemplatively. “And your home is an interesting place, by implication … of course, words like fey, fairy, changeling, they could mean anything to you with how broad a brush the humans paint their myths.” Chrysalis shakes her head dismissively. “No, what is interesting to you is … specifics.” That smile again - her canines are longer, sharper, Sunset is sure - and a step closer.
“I am the shepherd of the lost, young traveler,” Chrysalis purrs, a hypnotic melody weaving through her words, harmonized by the wind through her wings. “Savior of the dying, protector of the damned.”
“When all hope is lost,
Your last chance spent
Your heart cries out because you’re all alone
Your every breath is ragged, you might not draw the next
Our shadows on the west wind fly to bring you home.
My flock lurks in the shadows, my kingdom destitute,
No riches nor regards the humans spare
When they do nothing for you we’ll be there…
Through the workings of desire, I weave myself a mask
To infiltrate the humans and pursue my secret task
Every soul who comes to my embrace - each shares a different story,
And each lost soul who gains their wings whispers of my glory.
You, dear Sunset, called to me
A kindred spirit, wild and free
In the shadows our fates entwine -
Together, we might fate redefine.”
Sunset’s hands are in Chrysalis’s by the end of the song; the fey woman’s green eyes gaze into hers, lingering in a way that makes her pulse quicken and her mind race - what kind of alliance was being offered here? Secrecy was one thing, but Chrysalis’s disguise seemed to add another layer of deceit to what she spoke of as a noble mission … Sunset had her doubts that the humans would be purely grateful if the girl were exposed for what she was.
But two considerations weighed on her thoughts, outweighing all due caution and suspicion in their simplicity.
Chrysalis had magic.
And wings.
Wings lost souls could gain.