Chapter 3: Vision of Fire
Over the last few days, Rarity had proven surprisingly hard to corner. School had been far too busy to draw the other girl into a private conversation, and Rarity’s after school time as of late had been consumed by personal projects or long work shifts.
But tonight, hopefully, Sunset would get her opportunity. Tonight, Rarity was hosting their regular sleepover. So, with a sense of determination, Sunset had packed her overnight bag, donned her helmet, hopped onto her bike, and sped off to 3491 Carousel Road.
She slid almost noiselessly into Rarity’s curiously empty driveway. Her parents were usually at home by now, and their cars would normally be sitting in front of the little double garage. But then, they could have just decided to park inside today, or maybe they’d stepped out. Either way, it didn’t matter. What mattered was talking to Rarity.
With a deep breath, Sunset crossed the yard, made her way up the front steps, and knocked.
“Just a moment!”
Sunset shifted her weight between her feet, eyes roaming for some kind of distraction. She examined the quaint little porch with the pots of flowers, and the cleanly painted walls. Walls which were an unfortunately familiar shade of purple, and which brought just the tiniest hint of warmth to her cheeks.
So much for distraction.
Mercifully, the front door swung open, revealing a slightly frazzled Rarity. “Oh, Sunset! What a pleasant surprise.” She checked her watch. “You’re a bit early, aren’t you, darling?” The pale-skinned girl shook her head. “No matter, I could use your help. Come in, come in!” She grabbed at Sunset’s arm, pulling her past the threshold and into the living room.
Rarity gestured to a large reddish sofa. “If you could help me move this further away from the wall?” she asked.
Sunset raised an eyebrow, but shrugged, grabbing the other end of the sofa. Between the two of them, they managed to heave the rather heavy piece of furniture over about a foot.
“Why,” Sunset heaved, catching her breath, “did you need to do that?”
“Because we’ll be sleeping here, darling,” Rarity explained breathlessly as she brushed back a lock of hair that had slid out of place. “Mother and Father left to visit my aunt.”
That explained the empty driveway. “Anything serious?”
“Oh, no,” Rarity assured. “She just twisted her ankle. In any case, they’ll be away the next two nights, and with Sweetie Belle off to spend time with her friends at their clubhouse, we’ll have the house all to ourselves, so I thought it would be good to sleep out here instead.”
Sunset nodded in approval. “More room, and we get the TV. Good plan.”
“Thank you, darling.” Together they moved back to the central hall and down to the back of the house, where Cookie Crumbles, Rarity’s mother, kept her immaculate kitchen. Sunset picked an apple out of the fridge, gnawing at it as Rarity poured both of them a glass of water.
As they both sat down at the little island, Rarity eyed the cat-clock mounted to the wall. “Not that I don’t appreciate your timing, Sunset, but why did you arrive so early?”
“I…uh…” Sunset took a quick gulp of water. “I kind of wanted your advice on something…personal.”
Rarity leaned in, resting her chin on her hand, a curious, almost cat-like gleam in her eye. “I’m all ears.”
“I think…” Sunset breathed deep. “I think I might have a crush on Twilight. The human Twilight.”
Rarity gasped; a sound so loud Sunset swore she heard a dog howl in the distance. “You have a crush?!”
Seeing Sunset wince at her ear-splitting volume, Rarity coughed politely and tried again. “I’m sorry, darling, but this comes as quite a surprise. I haven’t heard you so much as mention romance since we became friends.”
“Because I’ve never had any romance.”
Rarity looked at her in surprise. “Really? But what about—”
“I told you, I only dated Flash for the popularity,” Sunset answered. “I never really loved him, and now…I don’t even know if what I’m feeling is love. I figured you’d have a better idea, since you’ve been on more dates than me. Real ones, anyway.”
The fashionista tapped a well-manicured nail against her chin. “I have had quite a few dates, that’s true, but I sadly have to admit I’ve never really felt true love.” Sunset’s face fell, and Rarity added quickly. “However, I am quite the connoisseur of romance novels.”
Sunset held her head in her hands. Romance novels. Rarity’s biggest understanding came from fiction. This was such a bad idea. She should have asked someone else. Applejack, maybe. Would she even have time to swing by the farm? Already her brain was starting to do the math.
“Now, darling, don’t be like that,” chided Rarity. “Even if my romantic experience isn’t quite as broad as either of us would like it to be, I am still perfectly capable of giving you advice as a friend.” Pale fingers pried Sunset’s fingers from her cheeks. “So, why don’t you give me a try?”
Despite her reservations, Sunset smiled. “Thanks.”
“Think nothing of it. I must admit, though, and,” Rarity cleared her throat awkwardly, “forgive me if this is rather…uncomfortable, but I’m curious, are you not attracted to boys at all?”
“I am,” Sunset answered. “Even back in Equestria, I could tell that I was attracted to both mares and stallions. Tartarus, if I was just lesbian, I wouldn’t have gone out with Flash at all. Popularity or no, I wouldn’t have been able to tolerate it. I just…” she flushed, “I’ve just never felt any romantic attraction to anypony before.”
Rarity didn’t comment on her grammatical slip. “And what exactly are you feeling?”
“It’s like…when we touch, I feel this sort of jolt. I get warm and flustered and I almost never get flustered. Nobody’s ever gotten that kind of reaction out of me, and when Twilight hugged me a few nights ago—” She froze, mentally cursing herself at letting that slip out.
“A few nights ago?” Rarity inquired eagerly. “And what, pray tell, were you two doing a few nights ago?”
Seeing no way around it, Sunset gave her a summarized version of the meteor shower, carefully omitting the whole “we broke into the school” and the “not-invisible-but-it-might-as-well-be clock tower.” A girl was entitled to a few secrets, after all. Diaries wouldn’t be a thing otherwise.
By the end of it, Rarity’s blue eyes were glittering like a pair of finely cut diamonds. “A night under the stars! A symbolic constellation! Oh, darling, it’s all too perfect!” she swooned. “For someone who’s never had any romantic interest before, you certainly know how to pull off a magnificent first date.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Sunset protested. “I wasn’t trying to be romantic. I was just trying to help Twilight out. But she’s cute and she’s passionate and intelligent, and…” She shook her head, trying to clear away the fog of emotions that surrounded the purple bookworm. “I have no idea if what I’m feeling is just physical attraction or…” She shook her head again. “I just don’t know.”
“There, there, darling. I know love can be quite confusing,” said Rarity, patting her back. “Although it seems to me like you’ve definitely got the beginning of a crush.”
“So, what do I do about it?” asked Sunset. “Twilight’s just gotten friends. I don’t want to ruin that with some botched romance.” School had been torturous the last couple days, trying not to let her confusion show, even when every bit of physical contact sent her heart racing. But the idea of hurting Twilight’s chances at making friends was an even worse prospect by far.
“If you’re really that worried,” offered Rarity. “Then just try being her friend for now. See where it goes. Who knows? It’s possible she might feel the same way.”
“Maybe.” Twilight had blushed when they’d met for the meteor shower, but then again, you could just as well chalk that up to her generally awkward nature. “Thanks, Rarity.”
“My pleasure, darling,” the fashionista smiled. “And perhaps, since you’ve seen fit to take my romantic advice, you’ll finally take my other advice and let me work with that gorgeous hair of yours.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. They’d had this argument many times before. “Rarity, no.”
“But darling, you know how skilled I am.” She tossed her own perfectly coiffed hair for effect. “And I can see some dreadful split ends already. If you would just let me—”
“Rarity,” Sunset interrupted flatly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re my friend, but I’m not letting you near my hair, especially with anything sharp.”
It wasn’t so much that she doubted Rarity’s skills. That was a concern, of course. But her friend could get swept away in bursts of creative inspiration, and where Sunset’s treasured mane was involved, that was a risk she’d rather not take. It was her best feature and she was going to keep it that way, thank you.
The pale girl huffed. “Oh, if you insist. Though I suppose I can’t blame you, darling. I’m as protective of my own hair. Still, I am confident that one of these days, you’ll agree.”
Sunset smirked. “Come to me with an actual beautician’s license, and we’ll talk.”
Whatever Rarity had to say in response was lost when something forced its way up to the surface.
Another kitchen table flashed before her eyes, just as warm, but infinitely far away and long ago.
Bristles swam through a river of glossy black. Two figures, both female. One, a girl under ten, seated before the other, a teenager wielding a brush and comb with all the concentration of a surgeon performing open heart.
“I really thought I had it this time,” she grumbled apologetically from her nearby seat, her voice young and still so strange. What was it about the sound? “I was doing what she told me to do…”
“What you had was an ungainly mess,” said the older girl with a roll of her eyes. There was no true anger in her voice. She was used to their combined antics by now. “I think it’s safe to say that you should get a lot more practice before trying to braid anyone else’s hair.”
“Sorry,” she muttered.
From her seat, the girl, dark-skinned and dark-eyed like the teen behind her, smiled gently. Her face alternated between a mouth and muzzle, but the expression never lost any of its comfort. “It’s alright,…” There was a word there that failed to reach her ear, like it was buried in static. “I know you’ll get it eventually.” The girl winced as a particularly bad snarl pulled at her scalp.
“You’re lucky I can unknot it,” said the teen. “If Ammi came back and saw this, she’d have a fit.”
“You could try teaching me,” she argued. “You have more experience at this than…” there was another word lost in the static, a vital word.
The teen undid one last knot, transforming the mess back into the pristine, nearly waist-length mane it was supposed to be, and smirked at her. “Let’s see if you can sit still long enough to learn.” She laughed. “Though I doubt it.”
She crossed the room, and the brush that had tamed her friend’s hair sunk deep into her own. “To do a braid, first, part it like this…”
“Sunset?”
The former unicorn shook her head. “Huh? Oh, sorry.” She rubbed a hand against one of her eyes. “I’ve not exactly been getting the best sleep lately.” That was yet another problem she was going to tackle, but the issue with Twilight seemed easier to deal with first.
“Well, in that case, please, relax on the sofa. I only have a few things left to do, and you seem like you need your rest.”
For the rest of the afternoon until the sleepover, Sunset sat on the living room couch browsing on her phone while Rarity shuffled a few more things around, and did a little sewing on a new outfit. While she was vegging out, she sent a quick text to Rainbow to bring her game system, since they had the TV free.
Finally, everyone started to arrive. Sunset was the one to get the door at the very first knock, and opened it to find the girl of her affection staring back at her.
“H-Hi,” said Twilight. “Am I late?”
“Nah, I’m early,” Sunset replied, taking in a breath and getting another whiff of Twilight's lavender shampoo.
Rarity’s advice rang in her ear. Be her friend first. So, drawing on her reserves of strength, she pushed down any awkward infatuation. “How was the data from the meteor shower?”
“Good!” said Twilight excitedly as they walked into the living room. “I mean, I haven’t gotten a chance to go over it all, but so far it looks amazing. I can’t wait to show my dad.” She paused. “On the other hand, if he sees the footage, he might ask questions about where I took it.”
“Probably best not to mention we broke into the school,” Sunset whispered.
“Yeah.” She looked around at the modest house. “This place doesn’t seem much like Rarity.”
“Let’s just say Rarity and her parents have very different tastes,” Sunset commented.
Twilight’s gaze slid down to her shoes. “Can I tell you something?” She fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “This is actually my first sleepover ever.”
There was a horrified gasp beside them as Pinkie Pie bounded up. Sunset hadn’t even seen her arrive. “This is your first sleepover?!” She ran toward the kitchen where Rarity was preparing a few snacks. “Rarity! First sleepover alert!”
Sunset watched as Twilight squirmed. “Don’t worry about Pinkie. She gets like that,” she reassured the other girl. “You’ll have fun. Trust me. Besides, if you want to know, my first sleepover wasn’t until last year, so you don’t need to feel weird.”
Twilight looked at her with those big purple eyes, bigger still behind the lenses of her glasses, and seemed to visibly relax. “You know, I actually checked out a book just for this. It’s called Slumber 101: All You Ever Wanted to Know About Slumber Parties but Were Afraid to Ask.”
Sunset’s eyebrow shot up to her hairline. “There’s seriously a book for that?”
Twilight nodded eagerly, pulling the volume from her bag. “See, right here is the section on ghost stories! Of course, ghosts aren’t real, but I always found the idea of them fun, even if I never had anyone to tell them to…”
For the rest of the time between then and when everyone else arrived, Twilight shared her bizarrely informative and comprehensive guide to slumber parties. Despite the fact that it was probably written for younger ages (or the socially isolated), Twilight put a passion into discussing it that made it seem equal to some lost manuscript from the library of Nyalexandria.
Sweet Celestia, she was impossibly adorable.
That train of thought probably should have sent her into a flustered tizzy, but somehow, Twilight’s intellectual energy kept that from happening, completely engaging Sunset’s brain. Perhaps waiting out this whole crush would be easier than she’d thought.
Once everyone arrived, the sleepover kicked into full swing. They’d started with a few party games, one of which Rarity called “Spin the Nail Polish”, where they’d each pick a bottle of nail polish, spin it, and whoever the bottle pointed at would get one nail painted that color.
By the time they were out of nails, both her and Twilight’s hands were an alternating blue and white, something that had Rarity politely hiding a smile, and Sunset wondering if perhaps there was some kind of matchmaking deity that had it in for her.
As the night went on, and after they’d fueled up on pizza, Rainbow Dash had broken out her gaming system and connected it to the TV. Elite Fighter 5, Sunset noticed—not a bad choice. What had followed was the usual contest between her and AJ, which Rainbow had won, and which had the athlete crowing in her usual fashion.
Then Sunset had taken hold of the controller, and Rainbow Dash was left eating crow instead.
“Aww, man!” groaned Rainbow as her character lay flat on her back. “How do you always beat me?”
The redhead smirked, blowing on her hands to dissipate invisible smoke. “What can I say? You’re going to have to practice more if you want to beat a pro like me.”
“You’re a professional?” asked Twilight from behind.
Sunset turned around. While she’d been giving Rainbow yet another electronic beatdown, Rarity had convinced Twilight to let her work her magic on her hair. Her bun had been replaced by a long, sleek ponytail, with only a single free lock on either side of her face. It was simple, suited Twilight extremely well, and somehow made her seem cuter than she was already.
“Uh…” Sunset forced her brain back on track. “Yeah. I’ve got my own game channel. Did a whole playthrough of Palace of the Minotaur last month.” Video games had been a shocking discovery, but incredibly fun. Plus, she’d been able to monetize the channel. It wasn’t exactly much, but every little stream of revenue was nice. “It’s Sun—”
“SunWizard86?” Twilight finished. “The channel with the blazing wand inside the alchemical sun symbol for a logo, right?”
Sunset blinked, not expecting to be recognized so quickly. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“I saw kids at Crystal Prep talking about your run of Palace of the Minotaur,” Twilight explained. “I watched it, too. I can see why your channel is so popular. Your run was almost perfect, except for that one optional level. You really should have gone through the south entrance. It would have been much easier and you would have been in better shape for the final boss.”
“Really?” Sunset replied. She’d have to remember that in the event she played the game on a higher difficulty. “Are you a gamer?”
“I dabble,” answered Twilight, a flush spreading across her cheeks. “Actually, I built my own custom gaming computer back in ninth grade, since the ones I saw in the store didn’t seem to be adequate for the performance I wanted.” She laughed in that awkward, melodic way that Sunset was coming to love. “My brother ended up borrowing it indefinitely, but I’ve built better ones since then.”
Sunset couldn’t help but grin. “Sounds awesome. You’re going to have to show me sometime.” She froze. Had that come off as flirting? No, wait, friends could make that kind of request. Horseapples, this was messing with her head.
“I still can’t believe it’s you, though,” added Twilight, thankfully unfazed by Sunset’s possibly flirtatious request. “Indigo Zap kept hoping you’d show your face.”
“Sorry to disappoint her, but I’d rather stay invisible.” Besides the usual concerns about internet privacy, Sunset had worried that word of her gaming channel could reach her human doppelganger. Not that she’d ever found her human doppelganger, but better safe than sorry.
Twilight nodded. “I totally get it.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a great gamer,” griped Rainbow. “One of these days I’ll beat you.”
Sunset merely smirked, adding a sarcastic “Right.” A yawn rose up from her throat. “Anybody else getting tired?” she asked.
“Oh, my, I hadn’t realized how late it was getting,” said Rarity, looking at the wall clock, which indicated it was well past midnight.
“Reckon it’s about time to hit the hay,” added Applejack.
“Yeah,” agreed Sunset, releasing another yawn. Her eyelids were starting to feel like lead. “Maybe I’ll actually get a good night’s sleep this time,” she muttered.
“You not gettin’ enough shut eye, sugarcube?” asked Applejack with concern.
From her position nearest the kitchen (the best place to sneak away for snacks), Pinkie Pie gave a little bounce. “Ooh, you should try counting alligators.” Pulling out Gummy from some unknown space, she hugged the plush toy close to her chest. “That’s what I do when I can’t sleep.”
“I’m not having trouble falling asleep,” Sunset clarified. “I’ve just been waking up in the middle of the night sometimes. Or I just feel a little tired when I wake up.”
Twilight hummed in thought. “It could be bad sleep hygiene. Are you avoiding stimulating activities before you go to bed?”
“…Maybe.” An embarrassed hand slipped behind her head. “Honestly, I hadn’t done much research yet.”
“I could help you, if you want,” offered Twilight quickly. “Research is basically my middle name.”
“Really?” asked Pinkie. “Wow, you’re so lucky! Mine is Diane and that’s super weird.”
“I think she was using a figure of speech, darling,” said Rarity.
Sunset laughed. “I’d like that, thanks.” She turned her attention back to the others. “Anyway, if I end up getting a glass of water tonight, warning in advance.”
With a round of “goodnights”, everyone snuggled into their sleeping bags. Sunset closed her eyes, breathed deep, slipped off into her dreams.
Fire.
Her vision was filled with fire. Heat and smoke adding to the already hot August night. An inferno born from hate, ignorance, and tiny, shriveled hearts.
Her ears echoed with screams. Her screams, the screams of others. Between the heat and the noise, everything was pure chaos. Firefighters swarmed in front of her, their bodies shifting between human and equine as they raced to put out a house set ablaze on a formerly quiet street.
Two of them held her back. She kicked them in the legs, but they still resisted, still barred her from the house. Didn’t they understand? Her best friend was in there! She needed a way through! Why wouldn’t they let her through?!
She could get her out. She could get them all out, if they’d just let her try. She could stop it with her magic, part of her screamed. She reached inside, calling to the vast well of the power that had set her apart from her peers, but it didn’t come. Her magic wouldn’t work here. It wouldn’t work. She couldn’t stop the fire, couldn’t rescue her best friend.
Her best friend…
Her brain stalled. Which friend? Rainbow? Rarity? Twilight? Pinkie Pie? No, none of them. The names, so familiar to her, and yet strangely unfamiliar at the same time, even as she thought of them, did not belong in this place. They did not belong to the one inside. Another friend. But that couldn’t be. She had no other friends. But she knew she did. She had…has…a best friend. Someone…somepony…else.
As the fire hoses struggled to contain the blaze, a useless effort because she knew somehow that it was a chemical fire, she tried to remember the name. She tried and tried, but it remained lost on her tongue. She tried to scream it, to force it out with pure rage, but it still didn’t come.
Why couldn’t she remember? She had to know it. Her best friend was in there, burning and dying. How could she stand here, powerless, and not remember her name?
The fire stretched higher into the sky, and in its savage glow, time warped, and images of the future passed before her. A rescue too late. Blistered skin. Gentle eyes full of hate. Hospital. Burn unit. Gone…gone…gone…
And then, it came. It came like a geyser erupting from a place far below. A word, a name, full of love and joy and pain, so much pain. An old name seared onto her very heart and soul. The fire raged before her, the house consumed, and she screamed the name over and over, struggling with all her might against the adults that held her back.
“…Yo!…unset! Wake…up!”
In the distance, she could hear voices, muffled and broken like they were coming from behind a wall. But they couldn’t reach her. Nothing could reach her. Her own voice drowned everything out, drowned it out with the name. The name she’d forgotten. The name of her best friend.
“Wait…don’t…could be a night…error…”
Manisha…
“Pink…Twi…said…!”
Manisha…
“She’s…ot waking…”
Manisha…
“…Dash, what are…?”
“MANISHA!”
The shock of cold water against her face hurled Sunset back into sputtering consciousness. Sitting bolt upright, the first thing she saw, once she cleared the droplets from her eyes, was Rainbow Dash, a dripping, but empty glass pitcher held firmly in her hand.
Anger shot through her. “What,” she coughed, forcing back the water that threatened to go down her windpipe. “What the hay, Rainbow?!”
Rainbow said nothing. Instead, she just stared at her, wide-eyed and wary. That was when Sunset realized that everyone was staring at her like that.
“Tarnation, girl,” Applejack swore under her breath. “You said you weren’t sleepin’ well, but you didn’t say nothin’ about havin’ nightmares.”
Sunset blinked. “What?” With wakefulness settling in, she suddenly became aware of the way her heart was hammering against her breastbone, and, despite the now sodden state of her pajama top, she could identify the cold sheen of sweat on her skin. Telltale evidence of a powerful nightmare.
“Darling, you were practically screaming in your sleep,” said Rarity.
Now that Rarity mentioned it, her throat did feel just the tiniest bit sore. Sweet Celestia, she must have really scared them. A lock of hair fell forward and plastered itself to her skin, and whatever guilt she felt was suddenly mixed in with lingering annoyance, because, terror or not, it didn’t excuse her very rude and soggy awakening.
She glared at Rainbow. “For Celestia’s sake, if I was having a nightmare, you didn’t have to drown me! Why didn’t you just shake me or something?!”
“Twilight said not to,” answered Fluttershy. “She said it could be a night terror and that shaking you could send you into anaphylactic shock.”
“But I’d already done it,” said Pinkie with uncharacteristic quietness. “You didn’t stop.” Her big blue eyes slid to the floor. “So we all tried, and when you still wouldn’t wake up, Dashie decided to dump water on you.”
“It was the only thing I could think of,” defended Rainbow Dash.
Had she really been that deep asleep? She sighed, leaning back against the sofa, and pushed the offending lock of hair from her face. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Sunset,” Rarity began, “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re getting worried about you. You said you hadn’t been sleeping well, but that was the most dreadful nightmare I’ve ever seen anyone have.” She shuddered in her chiffon nightgown. “For a moment I thought we were in some kind of horror film.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Fluttershy.
Talk about it? She couldn’t even remember it. Even now, the emotional echo of whatever had tormented her sleep was fading away like a dying wave, leaving only a placid lake behind. “I—”
“Who’s Manisha?”
The question was spoken as lightly as a feather, without malice or judgment. A plain and simple inquiry. But it backhanded Sunset across the face. She turned stiffly to Twilight, her throat suddenly constricted. “W-What?”
“Who’s Manisha?” repeated Twilight, and it was like a Manticore’s stinger had been driven into Sunset’s chest. “You kept saying that name in your sleep, so I was wondering…” She paused, seeming to notice Sunset’s expression. “If you want to share, that is. It’s clearly personal.”
“I’ve certainly never heard the name,” said Rarity, seeming almost glad for the diversion in topic. “Manisha,” she hummed. “It sounds rather exotic.” Sunset, meanwhile, felt her chest squeeze.
“I ain’t heard of no ‘Manisha’ either,” said Applejack, as the pressure inside her tripled. Sweet Celestia, it was getting hard just to breathe. “Pinkie, you heard of anyone by that name?”
“Nope, and I know everybody!” replied Pinkie. “And I really think I’d know a girl named Manisha, because it’s a super odd-sounding name. Of course, I knew a Matilda once, but never a Manisha, and I—”
“STOP!” Sunset exploded. Her legs curled up to her chest, pressing against her soaked shirt, trying to smother the white hot agony lancing through her heart. “Stop saying that name,” she begged. “It hurts.”
“Sunset,” whispered Fluttershy in disbelief, “you’re crying.”
Sunset’s hand shot up, pressing her fingers to her face. They came away with hot, salty tears. In the very back of her mind, a tiny thought echoed in protest that it wasn’t true. It was just the water Rainbow had splashed on her.
But she was. Her reflection in the pitcher betrayed the truth, revealing the rivers running down her cheeks. She was bawling in a way she hadn’t done since the Fall Formal. Since Anon-a-Miss. And no matter what she did, she couldn’t make it stop.
Fluttershy’s arms wound their way around her, drawing her into an embrace. “There, there,” she whispered, rubbing her back. “It’s okay.”
“Alright, sugarcube,” AJ said gently. “Want to tell us who she is?”
“I don’t know,” Sunset sobbed. For Celestia’s sake, why wouldn’t it stop? Why did it hurt so much? How could a collection of random syllables hurt so much?
The farm girl raised an eyebrow. “You mean to tell us you’re cryin’ over somebody you don’t know?”
Sunset couldn’t bring herself to respond. There were so many things she didn’t know lately. She’d thought it was lack of sleep, or distraction, but this…this pain…pain over a name she didn’t recognize.
Could it be?
There was only one answer she could think of.
Her lost memories.
“Ugh,” she groaned, tossing over onto her other side. “This isn’t working.”
It was the morning after the sleepover, and Sunset had returned to her apartment in an attempt to get some rest. However, despite her interrupted sleep cycle, her circadian rhythms refused to allow her to fall unconscious. Sitting up in bed, Sunset snatched her journal from the nearby bookshelf before fishing in her nightstand drawer for a pen.
“If I can’t sleep, I might as well message Princess Twilight,” she grumbled.
Dear Princess Twilight,
I know this is going to be a terrible way to start, but you were right to be worried about me.
I guess I’d better start at the beginning. The real beginning. I don’t know how much Princess Celestia might have told you about how I became her personal student. I know a lot of ponies would probably assume it was because I’d done something to impress her.
Some ponies might even think it happened at the CSGU entrance exams. For all I know, maybe you’re one of those ponies, and I wouldn’t blame you for it. After all, you said that’s the way the princess discovered you.
But that’s not how it went. With me, “discovered” was way more literal.
Years ago, Princess Celestia was at this party at the Blueblood estate in Canterlot. She was trotting through the back gardens when she found me hidden in the bushes. I was about seven, give or take, but I’ll get to that. I collapsed in front of her, and she rushed me to Canterlot Royal Hospital.
If you’re wondering what I was doing there, or how I’d even gotten onto the estate, I can’t tell you. When the doctors examined me, they found I had amnesia. A really bad case of it. Everything was a complete blank. Tartarus, Twi, I don’t even know my real birthday. The one I’ve got is just the anniversary of when the princess found me.
While I was in the hospital, the princess realized how insanely strong my magic was, and took me on as her pupil so I could get a handle on it. I wish my story was more impressive than that, but no. I didn’t pass any tests or perform any feats. I was just a random, unknown filly who was far too dangerous for my own good.
My memory never returned. Celestia searched for my family, sent agents all over Equestria, but they all came back empty-hooved. No parents, no aunt or uncle or distant cousins, not even a family friend.
It used to bother me, not knowing. I used to wonder if my family was alive, or even if they loved me. If they were alive and loved me, they’d have to be looking for me, right? In my second month at the palace, there was an entire week where I slept in Princess Celestia’s bed because I didn’t want to be alone.
But after a while, I just kind of…accepted it. I realized it was really hard to mourn a complete blank, and everything that upset me was just potential. In my imagination. So my lack of a past just became a fact of life. Most days, I didn’t even think about it.
Lately, though…remember how I zoned out? I’ve been doing that more. At first, I thought maybe I was distracted, or I needed more sleep.
My sleep has been getting interrupted lately. I’d just been waking up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. Usually I’d get a glass of water and go right back to sleep. It was annoying, and not exactly great for the REM cycle thing, but not the worst thing, either, so I didn’t consider it a serious problem.
But at the sleepover last night, I didn’t just wake up. I had a nightmare. A really, really bad nightmare. The girls had to dump water on my face to wake me up, that’s how bad it was. I was screaming in my sleep, or so they told me. Honestly, I don’t remember a thing. If it weren’t for them, I’m not sure I’d even have known I’d had a nightmare at all.
The reason I think it’s related to my memories is that there was a name I kept saying. Ma
Sunset paused, rubbing her arm against her eyes to fight the sting rising up inside them.
Manisha. Twilight, before last night, I would have sworn to you in every court in Equestria that I’d never heard that name before in my life. But hearing it, even writing it…it hurts. It feels like that time my stun spell backfired on me, and I don’t know why.
I feel like a bad friend, or relative, or whatever I am to…her. I forgot her, and I tossed her aside. I stopped thinking about her, about my past, or whoever else I might have known. Am I a bad pony for doing that?
I’m back at my place now, resting. Didn’t sleep very much after last night, as you can imagine. Still not resting much, either. The girls and I are going to meet up later today. We’re going to do a little digging and see if this parallel universe might be able to help figure out my past. I hope so.
Really wish you were here in person, though I know you’re busy.
Sunset Shimmer.
A loud rumbling reverberated in the air as the former unicorn closed the book. It was close to lunch time, and clearly, her stomach was set on reminding her of that fact.
All hopes of sleep were foregone as Sunset made her way down to the kitchenette. She scanned her fridge, eying the plastic wrapped salads, boxes of microwave veggie tacos, and other herbivore-friendly meals, before deciding that after the night she’d had, she deserved her favorite snack. She reached over into a drawer, and pulled out the old microwavable hot dog steamer.
A little while later, Sunset headed for the living room area, a plate of four freshly microwaved carrot dogs in her hands, and a large bottle of ketchup tucked under one arm. Carrot dogs were more or less what they sounded like, carrots treated with a special blend of spices placed in a long bun, just like the hot dogs over here.
They were one of Equestira’s quintessential fast food items, second only to hayburgers and fries, although why they never caught on with the vegetarians over here, she had no idea, and she had tried. Post-reform, she’d made an effort to introduce them to the eco-kids at CHS, but none of them had seen the appeal.
Well, it was their loss.
Sunset plopped herself down on the couch. As she did, the wide screen TV switched itself on. Shifting the plate to one hand, she reached down and pulled the remote from its frequent hiding place between the cushions.
“Burrowing down again, huh?” she joked at the little plastic rectangle.
Deciding to give the often-neglected realm of television a bit of attention over the wonders of the internet, Sunset lay her body across the sofa, placed the still warm plate in her lap, and flipped through the channels.
Nothing good caught her eye, but she found herself pausing on one of the local channels, where a multi-colored, maternal-looking monster puppet was teaching several small monster puppets, as well as the children in the audience, about various letters and words. She hung there for a while, letting it play while she munched wordlessly on her food, and her thoughts were once again pulled into her distant past.
She had been rather understated when she’d told Princess Twilight her amnesia was bad. The fact of the matter was that it had been the worst case of retrograde amnesia the doctors of the CRH had ever seen. It had been so bad that she’d been unable to read, write, or even talk.
She supposed, in some bizarre and ironic way, it just further cemented that Sunset had been an exceptional unicorn, even in the injury department. Of course, how exactly she’d come by such catastrophic memory loss was anypony’s guess, though the best theories at the time involved getting caught in some kind of spell-related accident.
In hindsight, it could have been rather embarrassing. Her, Sunset Shimmer, personal pupil to the princess of the sun and ahead of all her peers in school, being illiterate at the age of seven. But she’d learned quickly enough, and it wasn’t exactly her fault. Probably.
She watched the puppet on the TV continue to patiently teach her little charges, who struggled with each letter and word, and remembered how Princess Celestia had done the very same thing with her. A rueful smile graced her lips. “Hope those guys appreciate it.”
A fresh wave of guilt washed over her. The princess had given her everything, a home, food, an education, even taught her the fundamentals of all education, taught her how to speak, and how had she repaid her? By turning into an arrogant monster.
From up in her bed, Sunset heard the low buzz of a cross-dimensional message. She switched off the TV, set aside her now empty, ketchup-stained plate, and returned downstairs, journal in hand, before opening up to the new entry.
Dear Sunset,
I had no idea that happened to you, and you’re right, looking back, I guess I did sort of presume you must have become Celestia’s pupil in a similar way to me. I never really thought about asking. I hope you can forgive me for that.
I don’t think you’re a terrible pony. While I can’t say I’ve ever lost my memories to any extent (although I suppose I might not know, would I?), I can’t imagine it’s easy when you lose everything. You were coping the best way you could, and you do raise something of a point. It would be rather difficult to miss something unknown and abstract.
The nightmares are definitely more concerning. Thank goodness you had the girls! I can’t say I’ve ever heard of anypony by that name, but this is good. It’s a clue you didn’t have before.
I wish I could be there with you. Digging for information sounds like a wonderful way to spend the day, especially when it’s helping a friend. But my schedule’s too busy lately to take the time away from Equestria.
Still, I’m going to keep the journal with me for the next few days. That way, if you need help, or if you just want to talk, I’ll be able to answer right away.
Good luck, Sunset. I hope you find what you’re looking for.
Your friend,
Princess Twilight Sparkle
P. S.: Even if I can’t get away from Equestria, I’d be more than happy to do a little research on my end. Just let me know!
The redhead smiled. “Thanks, Twilight.”
She checked her phone. It was getting close to when she was supposed to meet her friends. She’d better get ready. Sunset retreated into the bathroom, rinsing the food from her mouth and giving herself a good once over. Her hair was a complete mess.
Grabbing her brush, she began to carefully work out the tangles, smoothing her wavy tresses back into place. After that, she scrubbed at her face, luxuriating in the feel of the warm water against her skin.
Smiling, she gave herself another examination. She still looked a bit tired, but at least she didn’t look like she’d just rolled out of bed, even if she sort of had, and…
Steam billowed out from the shower stall, turning the room into a miniature sauna as she stepped out onto the carpeted floor. She wasn’t normally one for intensely hot showers, but after the cold temperatures she’d been enduring for months, even in her room in the staff quarters, it seemed called for.
Besides, she had her own bathroom now, so why not take advantage?
She smiled brightly, knowing that finally, she was free. Not stuck, not trapped or stranded, but free, and off to see the universe with that strange little man. Free to wander the stars. Free to be, well, whatever she wanted, she supposed.
The mirror had been completely fogged by her blazing shower, and she grabbed one of the bar towels she’d taken with her from the diner. Her fingers ran over the light blue lettering as the condensation cleared away, and her face became visible in the glass, “Welcome to Ice…”
Ice…
Her face…
Sunset snapped back to attention, holding her head as a dull ache throbbed in the back of her skull. “Not again,” she groaned.
She looked back into the mirror, clean and shining in the electric lights. Her frowning face stared back at her, dazed by whatever had passed through her head. “This has got to stop,” she said to her mirror self. Her reflection offered no comment, but as Sunset stared at her for another minute, she got the strangest sense that there was something wrong.
But that was stupid. There was nothing wrong with her reflection. This was the way she always was as a human.
Grunting in annoyance, she headed out, grabbing her jacket and slipping it over her shoulders. It was time to find answers.