Before Moonstone arrived, Sunset thought she liked books.
Now, she saw she had in them only a passing interest. Sunset read perhaps a book at most per week. Gloom, on the other hoof, seemed as though she had a different title in her hooves each time they met.
Whether it be a work of fiction or non-fiction, history or fantasy, thriller, mystery, biography, it didn't matter. She ate from their words and drank from their pages. And to that extent, not one children's book lay in sight.
It gladdened Sunset to find a fellow book-loving soul. She always thought she'd been a strange filly to enjoy reading collegiate-level textbooks, the kind which discussed high-level application and theory of various magical and scientific disciplines.
Not physics, though. She hated math, and always would.
It reasoned she was still a weird filly regardless, but at least now she had a friend with whom to share their mutual oddities. Often their academic conversations took them into the wee hours of the morning. Whenever that happened they'd go to school bedraggled and drained of all energy, but they kept doing it anyway, despite knowing full well the ill effects.
The selection of texts from the orphanage did leave something to be desired. Most choices offered were of a pointedly lower grade level than what interested them most. Yet to their great joy and fortune, school boasted a far more rigorous array of pages to bury themselves into. But even that did not satisfy their full hunger, as they found greater enjoyment from reading together than alone.
Where they discovered the truest gold mine lie in Canterlot's public library - one among many. Perusing through books on Equestria and Canterlot's history, they discovered how long ago, in the days of absolute monarchy, Princess Celestia had established a strong educational institution. She believed the better fortified the minds of her ponies, the stronger the walls and will of her nation.
For that reason, she funded the construction of libraries all across Equestria, and the same went doubly so for Canterlot.
On one Friday evening, the hour grew late. Outside, beyond the enchantment-tempered windows of the building, the Moon rose, and stars glittered like a million fireflies. Yet no matter the time of day, these libraries would never shut their doors.
And so on nights like tonight, with no school on the 'morrow, she and Moonstone would never stop reading.
Flipping to a new section of her book, Sunset read aloud, "Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns." Her voice betrayed no more than a whisper. Few and fewer ponies came to read at this dread hour, but she knew from experience if she spoke any louder the librarian would crawl from the woodwork to shush her up.
Eschewing the text in her lap, Moonstone leant over. "What's that?"
"I'm not sure. I think I've heard of it before but I don't remember."
"Well then read it already, I wanna know!"
Sunset nodded, and continued. "Founded by Her Majesty Princess Celestia in the year 531 A.U, this home of learning has represented in Canterlot and Equestria abroad the pinnacle of magical achievement. While many magical academies existed in private form prior to its establishment, none were as successful nor as highly acclaimed as this has come to be in current year of writing. Being as it is designed to teach ponies the study and application of magic, only unicorns are permitted through its golden, ivy-laden gates."
Moonstone's chest fur bristled. "Only unicorns? Laaaame."
Sunset blew a - quiet - raspberry. "Duh! It's called Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, not Celestia's School for Gifted Ponies." Gently, she clunked the side of Gloom's skull. "Besides, how can non-unicorns even learn magic? It's not like I could get into the Wonderbolt Academy or anything."
Moonstone huffed, but otherwise said nothing.
Sunset went on. "The standards for entering said gates are the highest among the nation. Divided into three wings, the school allows for the acceptance of foals, teenagers, and adults alike. To qualify for attendance, any applicants must pass one among a secretive selection of magical exams. In order to ensure results are based purely on raw magical talent, few materials exist outside the school's walls which divulge the examinations' contents. Often, it has been rumored each test is chosen specifically for the individual applicant. Otherwise and in modern times, former students and failed examinees alike have provided testimony to their own testing experiences. See page 297 for additional details."
Moonstone elbowed Sunset's ribs. "Hey, what if you applied? I bet you could totally get in."
To herself, Sunset read the introduction page further, chewing her bottom lip. "I dunno, Gloomy." She tapped her hoof to a lower down paragraph. "It says here only five percent of applicants get accepted. And here." She tapped again. "Only twenty percent of students actually graduate."
This time, it was Moonstone's turn to blow a raspberry.
"Shhhh!"
The librarian seemed to materialize from nowhere. Glowering behind thin, silver-framed glasses, she placed a platinum wingtip to her mouth.
"Sorry," Moonstone whispered. When the librarian turned away, she glanced back to Sunset as a fang-prominent smirk crept across her muzzle. "Are you really gonna tell me you're scared of a litttle number?"
"Five percent is not just a little number. And only twenty percent of that is like, one percent total!"
"Shhhh!"
Sunset huffed.
Gloom narrowed her slitted gaze. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Sunset?"
That earned a roll of Sunset's eyes. "Do I really have to explain statistics to you again? I'm just being realistic."
"And I'm just saying you're acting like a total scaredy cat." Heightening her voice by a hair, so it sounded like she mimicked a cheering crowd, she chanted, "Doooo it, doooo it, doooo it, doooo it!"
Thinking, Sunset rubbed at her fetlock. It was true - the chances of her getting in, let alone graduating were exceptionally low. But when had low chances ever stopped her before?
That thought was all she needed, planting an idea firmly in her brain that nothing short of unquestionable triumph could dislodge. The pieces clicked into place. Celestia banish the stupid numbers. Moonstone was right - she could do this.
Because she was Sunset.
Because she was smart.
Because she was better.
Grinning, Sunset tackled her friend. The filly squeaked, and both laughed as Sunset gave her a rough noogie.
From the shadows, the librarian with her pinched, elderly face rose into view.
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Moonstone and Sunset both turned to look at the librarian.
And blew a double raspberry.
"And stay out! I'll be sending your Head Matron a very stern letter!"
With a startling clamor, the double oaken doors of the library slammed shut. Its sound echoed, bounced and travelled down the craggy, aged stones of the walled-in streets.
Sunset kicked her hoof against the step. It caught on a loose, faded stone brick, and sent it clattering to the path below.
"Stupid librarian. There were only three other ponies there and they weren't even close to us!"
"Do you think we're banned from the library forever?"
Moonstone's voice carried a tone of genuine distress. Sunset smiled, bumping her snout to the filly's cheek for reassurance.
"Nah. You gotta do way worse stuff than that to get banned."
Moonstone's brows furrowed. "How do you know that?"
"Reasons."
Moonstone blew another raspberry, then yawned. Whatever. I guess it's for the best anyway. I'm sleepy."
"Sleepy? How? You're a thestral. Night time is like, your whole thing!" She gestured to the darkened streets and night sky. Lit only by the occasional oil lamp or lantern, much of the streets were obscured by an eerie, low-hanging fog. Any young filly in her right mind would find the prospect of roaming around Old Canterlot at this time petrifying, but none of those fillies were Sunset - or had a thestral for a friend.
"Just 'cause I like the night doesn't mean I don't need sleep, y'know. Besides, you regular ponies wake up in the morning to leave for school, so I have to too."
Sunset harumphed. "Fair."
After that, they started off, back towards the orphanage. With Gloom by her side, lending aid in the form of perfect night vision, and with Sunset's knowledge of the area, no amount of spooky darkness or swirling gray mist could stall their advance.
The lights to the building were dark when they returned. Knocking on the door, Sunset hoped a Matron other than Swan would be up at this time to let them in. Based upon previous experience, however, she knew this would not be the case.
Some moments later, the door's lock unlatched, clicked. The door swung open, revealing a baggy-eyed and frustrated Head Matron Swan.
"Good evening," she droned. The lack of enthusiasm dripped off her every word. "If you two keep staying up this late at the library, I'll be revoking your outside privileges."
Sunset pouted. "But it's a Friday! We don't have any school tomorrow."
Swan sighed, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. "That's not the issue, Sunset. I'm your caretaker and you are both my responsibility. If I can't trust you to return on time, how will I know if something has or has not happened to you? You know Old Canterlot isn't safe at night. Honestly, the only reason I let you two out is because I believe you're capable of defending yourselves."
Moonstone's head drooped. Sunset's face remained unchanged. Nevertheless, they each apologized. "Sorry, Matron Swan."
"Now get in you two. You'll be the trotting dead by dawnbreak. And since you came home late, you two will be helping the other Matrons and I put up Hearth's Warming decorations tomorrow."
"But," Sunset began.
"No wriggling your way out of this! You'll have plenty of time to work on any school assignments you have on Sunday."
"Yes, Matron."
Pushing the door wider, Swan stepped inside. Sunset and Moonstone followed, before leaving to their own rooms.
"Talk to you tomorrow?" whispered Sunset.
Gloom nodded. She turned, then stopped to get Sunset's attention. "Hey, maybe the decorating will be fun. I always used to put up decorations with mom and dad."
Sunset smiled. "I guess. It'll be more fun with you, at least."
Gloom giggled, and the two said their goodbyes.
Sunset went upstairs. Her room lay on the right side of the orphanage and its second floor. Moonstone, after being relocated, had hers on the opposite, and the highest floor there was - the fourth.
Once or twice, Sunset considered petitioning Swan to move Moonstone in with her. The debate raged on like wildfire in her mind for days at a time, before settling down again, until would inevitably resurface.
Ultimately, Sunset decided not to go through with it each time. She liked having a friend around, but she liked her personal space more. It let her have her secrets and special hidden things.
Quiet as a cat, she slipped past her bedroom door, then into bed. The large, wide-mouthed yawn snuck up on her as she crawled beneath the sheets, not realizing how tired she'd truly been. She closed her eyes, and bare breaths later she'd fallen asleep.
On the following morning - closer to afternoon by the time she woke up - Swan had been proven correct. She felt like a zombie.
Opening her eyes took effort. Each blink brought her further awake, but each time she closed her eyes the temptation grew to keep them shut. Finally, after a long while of thinking about returning to sleep and failing, she resolved to get up. She did have work to do after all.
Walking down the stairs, through the carpeted halls and against grayish brown, creaky wooden floorboards, Sunset found Matron Swan in the main room. From end to end, the space had been built large enough to host a small army - small in the most literal case, being for foals. Along the walls and in the corners various mares, fillies, and colts had set to decoration. The same, she knew, went for many other areas throughout the expansive orphanage.
Moonstone, already awake, pinned up strings of garland and cheery holiday lights. When she noticed Sunset she turned and dropped the green wire in her mouth.
"Now where do you think you're going, Missy?" Swan started, but smiled when she noticed Sunset as well. "Ah, there you are."
Grinning, Moonstone flapped over and nipped Sunset on the nose. She squealed, and stumbled back before shoving Gloom, making her tumble onto her back.
Matron Swan, observing this, chuckled. Early on in Sunset's friendship with Moonstone, Swan had many times walked in on such interactions and scolded them for fighting. But as they explained themselves, it became more and more apparent with each event it was simply their way of having fun.
With a hop and a flap, Moonstone flew upwards, then dove in and tackled Sunset to the floor. "Hiiii, Sunset!" she cheered. "You're up late."
"Yeah," Sunset said, grinning, though more groggy and croaky than her friend. "I'm still-" She yawned. "Still kinda tired."
Swan walked over, abandoning the lights and shaking her head. "I did tell you this would happen. You'll wake up soon, though. Moonstone here was just as sleepy when she got up."
"Yeah, but Moon's a bat! She's better at the whole sleeping thing."
"Now Sunset, it's not nice to stereotype."
Moonstone rolled off Sunset's prone body, helping her up with a hoof. "She's right though. Thestrals have shorter but more restful sleep cycles than normal ponies."
"Regardless," said Swan, and brushed fallen strands from the filly's face. "It's not polite to assume, even if that assumption is proven correct. And for that matter, you're just as normal a pony as anyone else. But, now that you're both up, this should all go much quicker. Sunset here has that fancy schmancy unicorn magic of hers." She looked towards Sunset and winked.
At once, Sunset's thoughts returned to the previous night. The name seemed to renew itself in her mind, brighter and bolder than before.
'Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns'.
"Before we continue, I'm sure you're starving, or at least hungry. Let's get some food and drink in you shall we? And since you're lending a helping hoof, you get as many refills of hot chocolate as you'd like."
Sunset's eyes sparkled. "Really? Spiced, too?"
"Of course, just how you like it."
"And marshmellows?"
"And marshmellows."
Gloom giggled. "Is it even hot chocolate if it doesn't have marshmellows?"
"I suppose that depends on your personal preference," Swan said. "Now come on. Moonstone, while I'm with Sunset, why don't you help out Matron Willowbush over there?" She pointed towards the mare, an earth pony colored like springtime fields and flowers. Without magic, and with only one colt to assist her - similarly an earth pony - they struggled to get their wreaths hung up on the ceiling.
"Yes ma'am!" Gloom saluted, and soared over.
Swan led her back into the kitchen, where a massive cauldron sat over a gentle, rolling flame. To most ponies the fire appeared utterly ordinary, but things were different for any pony who knew better, or any unicorn whatsoever. Sunset noticed the shimmering hints of bluish-purple between the blazing fingers, quickly denoting it as enchanted fire similar to the kind she'd conjured when rescuing Moonstone from her bullies. Any enchanted object possessed such a shimmer, colored with the hue of whatever unicorn's aura had cast it.
The Matron pulled a mug from the cabinets, then ladled into it a spoonful of steaming cocoa. After she grabbed various spices from the spice rack - cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, cayenne, and black pepper - which she proceeded to mix into the drink. Last but not least she dumped a packet of mini marshmellows inside, and hoofed it to Sunset.
She sipped, and groaned with pleasure. The silky smoothness of the chocolate, combined with the warm hug and tongue-tingling heat of pepper, made for a near perfect combination. Capped off by the teeny sugary bites of marshmellow and it truly became the perfect winter beverage. If helping out to decorate meant infinite refills of this, she'd start participating every Hearth's Warming there was.
Afterwards she ate breakfast, which Matron Swan had to whip up fresh. It was a comparatively simple affair - a cheesy bell pepper omelette with two nearly burnt strips of haybacon - disgusting to others, but exactly as she wanted it. It filled her up nevertheless, and was not so terrible besides. If she were cooking it though, she might have added more salt.
She, Swan, and Moonstone spent the rest of the day decorating. Ribbons were strewn about, mistletoe hung, wreaths and lights, garland and little Hearth's Warming trees, all found a place somewhere in the Royal Canterlot Orphanage.
You couldn't walk a hoof without bumping into some kind of decor. Truly, Sunset felt bad for whoever hated the holidays.
The holidays were fast approaching, too. Next week signalled the start of Hearth's Warming break, which Sunset welcomed with open hooves. The less easy, boring homework she had to do the better.
Some days later, Sunset's cheer extinguished as reality caught up with her. She knew she was in trouble when Swan called both her and Moonstone into her office.
Thankfully the scolding was a short one. Swan told them to be quiet at the library and behave, to which they agreed. Sunset though received a harsher punishment, this having been far from her first run-in with trouble.
She wound up grounded for the last weekend of school, not too bad all things considered. But Swan wasn't the type to rely on stick-based approaches alone.
"if you behave for the next two weeks," she explained. ""And that means no fights, no arguments, stealing, running, generally causing your typical brand of chaos - and yes, that includes blowing raspberries when you've been told twice to be quiet - you'll get an extra special gift for Hearth's Warming. Or after, but you'll receive it no later than January. Does that sound fair?"
While having many times been named such monikers as 'fireball' or 'she-devil', Sunset was as much a child as anypony else. So obviously, at the prospect of receiving her very own super special holiday gift just for her, she grew unreasonably excited, and agreed immediately.
For the next two weeks, she behaved perfectly, as she'd done earlier in the year before pulling her prank on Tinsel. Not being in school and worrying about annoying hoity toity know-it-all teachers and big stupid bullies made the effort much simpler.
Because, at the end of the day, she knew how to behave. She knew it was better for her if she behaved, but she struggled to. Why should 'authority figures' go unchallenged, even when they were being mean or wrong? Why wasn't it fair to fight back somepony who was fighting her in the first place?
Stupid. It was stupid, and also dumb.
At least she hadn't gotten in trouble for the whole 'ring of fire' thing, though not for lack of trying on Tinsel's part. She lied and lied and lied to every adult who would listen to her, but she nor her cohorts were the only witness. Sunset never directly saw any pony who was at the schoolyard testify to the truth, but she assumed they must have done so in private to prevent any evidential tempering.
In the end, what might otherwise have turned into an endless cycle of 'he said, she said' became an overwhelming tide of testimony in Sunset's favor. She still received a slap on the fetlock - which was dumb - but so did Tinsel and her friends. A much more substantial one at that: detention, and for a solid week straight.
This of course did not endear Sunset any further to those three, but who gave a dragonpucky what they thought? All she had to do was teleport away when they came around, since stupid Tinsel was too weak to teleport like her.
Meanwhile, in the days up to Hearth's Warming, Sunset and Moonstone continued their evening escapades. They did genuinely try not to come home late, but it got so hard when a book really sucked them in. And so, Matron Swan assigned them a Matron to see them in and out of the library safely and on time.
Many books held their attention, as was so often the case. One alone wasn't nearly enough to quell their hungering minds. But one more than any other captured Sunset's imagination: a book which focused solely upon Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.
History, politics, courses, students, inner workings, and prominent figures associated or graduated from the school, it left nothing out. Many of Equestria's most powerful magi, spellweavers, and arcanists hailed from that campus' vaunted halls.
Sunset could picture it. Closing her eyes, she saw herself clad in the gilded robes of the Equestrian Magic Society, wielding fire with the same ease she had taking breath. To study old tomes in the search of forgotten knowledge, to research entirely new and unbefore thought of magics, to defend the weak and protect Equestria her home from threats both foreign and domestic, she wanted it all.
And she knew she could have it.
However, fantasizing about her future career as one of the nation's most powerful unicorns - no, the most powerful unicorn - soon gave way to fantasies of a different kind. Hearth's Warming grew closer and closer with each passing day, and she couldn't stand the wait. Her mind ran wild imagining what gift Matron Swan was going to get her.
Sure, it might come in January, but whatever. Hearth's Warming was exciting enough on its own.
Days prior to the big day, she with the other orphans and Matrons set up the tree, a towering thing of dark green pines that made a mare like Swan look small, let alone a filly like her.
Each pony got to pick their own ornament to go on the tree. Moonstone chose a crescent Moon that glittered silver and Sunset a matching Sun that glimmered gold. They made sure to place them right next to each other.
In the nights after, the presents trickled in. One by one, two by two they came. Each night that passed would in the morning bring with it a dazzling new array of boxes, wrapped in patterned paper, topped with bows, wound by ribbons. To each was attached a tag, written on it the name of the intended recipient in permanent marker.
Excitement buzzed in the air, running through the halls like electric currents. However much a foal might dislike the holidays, no pony in their right mind could deny the allure of Hearth's Warming presents.
Hearth's Warming Eve arrived, and the excitement reached a fever pitch. The orphans - including Sunset and Gloom - blabbed about what they'd get this year.
Being in Old Canterlot, and knowing they didn't receive a lot of funding, the gifts were never that spectacular. Yet, every year, they positively rattled with nervous tension to learn what theirs would be.
If Sunset wanted to, she could find out right away. One of the spells she'd taught herself from the library books lent her the ability to see through objects, but she stayed her horn. She'd concluded waiting was more fun than spoiling the surprise early, and having nothing to get excited about on Hearth's Warming Morning.
Waiting for night, though, was miserable. Each hour, each minute, each second to midnight felt like pulling teeth.
Luckily, as with each Hearth's Warming Eve, the Matrons had things for them to do. They made cards, listened to holiday music and audio plays on the record player, or sat around at story time.
Before dinner, the Matrons brought everypony into the dining hall. Across the long table was set out a paper covering, and mountains of sweets.
Sunset, along with Moonstone and all the other foals, gasped. One colt ran over and went to eat some of the gumdrops, but succeeded in only eating one before Matron Piper stopped him.
"Now now, this isn't for you to eat."
The collective 'Awww' could be heard all the way down into Canter Valley.
"Not yet at least!" Swan, smiling, stepped up. "We've gotten a little more funding this year, and we wanted to introduce something new for you all this Hearth's Warming. Has anypony hear heard of gingerbread houses?"
Immediately, an even louder cheer rang from the crowd. Sunset led the charge to the table, but Swan and the other pegasi Matrons blocked them with their wings.
"Hold your griffons, children. I'd like to keep this as orderly as possible. You will be assigned in teams of three - one unicorn, one pegasus, and one earth pony, to keep things fair. Or, if you wish, you may work on your own. Who your partner is is up to you. Everpony will be given two hours to complete their house, When the hour is up, I and the Matrons will look at each one and pick the top three best houses. Whoever wins gets a special prize, but you get to eat your house regardless of whether or not you win."
The cheer rose again, and rapid talking rapidly filled the dining hall space. Ponies paired off with one another or broke away to work on their own. Sunset and Moonstone, already beside each other, teamed up. They found a colt willing to join their team, and raced towards the seats.
"What do you think we should make?" the colt asked.
Older than either of them, with an unassuming orange-tan coat and dull emerald mane, he'd never especially caught Sunset's attention. He had a sister named Daisy something. Or something Daisy. Sunset didn't remember or care.
"Whatever makes us win. I wanna get the top spot!"
Gloom pondered. "We should do something really big, then. What about... Canterlot Castle?"
"Perfect!" She turned to the colt. "Is that okay with you, Pines?"
"Timber. And that's cool, I guess."
"Awesome."
"But wait," Moonstone said. "I don't remember what it looks like."
"Hold on," Sunset said. "Matron Swan!" she shouted. "Can we use a reference to make our gingerbread house?"
"Yes, Sunset, you may."
Sunset grinned. "Okay, get as much stuff for building as you can. I'll be back in a flash."
And in a flash she disappeared, a moment later appearing in her room. She hoofed through her shelf of leased library books, and found her one on the history of Canterlot. She grabbed it, and teleported back to the table.
In order to win, Sunset explained, they had to go big, and put in lots of detail. Fortunately for them, they had her, and also photographs.
Wall by gingerbread wall, line by line of frosting mortar, they constructed the foundation of the palace. Sunset said it had to be big, so they measured it six hooves across. That gave each of them two hooves' worth of space to work with, although Sunset shuffled them around based on what needed working on by whom the most.
After the foundations, they worked on the towers. Roofs followed those, then the various gates and side entrances, including the front mote.
Last came the details. They added icing where felt most appropriate, but otherwise used the various candies and colored frosting. They weren't gonna win with just gingerbread and white icing, Sunset told them. It needed color, contrast, and pop.
"Don't you think we might run out of time?" asked Timber.
"Yeah. I think it'll be fine if we just do it up like a regular gingerbread house."
Sunset shook her head. "No no no, that's too simple! We won't ever win with something like that."
Moonstone and Timber glanced at one another. Sunset bowled past them, and returned to working on the castle.
She began by adding faint smears of green frosting for the grass, dusted with green sugar and sprinkles. Following her example, her teammates joined in. They included blue icing for the mote waters, gumdrops for any roof ridges, snapped and sharpened candy canes for any spikes or portcullises, and everything else under Celestia's Sun. Timber and Moonstone gave suggestions, but Sunset disregarded most of them unless they were actually good.
If they wanted to win, they had to do things her way.
Throughout construction, Sunset glanced at the other teams - her competition. A few looked rather nice, but nothing even approached the skill and grandiosity of their house.
The teams didn't worry her. The clock did.
For as much help as being a talented unicorn was, it wasn't enough. Too late Sunset realized she'd gone too big, but they couldn't start over now.
The two hour marker arrived. They stopped, and Sunset looked over her work. She'd gotten so close, but not quite close enough.
Still, she assured her teammates they'd totally win first place. Yeah, maybe a fourth of the castle was completely barren of anything except frosting, but pish posh. Theirs was still the best.
"Alright everypony!" Swan announced. "The Matrons and I have looked over all the houses you have to offer, and might I say it's a mighty impressive lot! But as you know, only three teams will get their special prizes. So for the first winners of the night, third place goes to..."
The hall fell deathly silent.
Swan went to a group at the table's bottom end. They'd made a typical gingerbread house, albeit well executed. "Snowflake, Banjo, and Riverdance, for simplicity done sublimely." The team cheered, high-hoofing each other. "Second place goes to..."
She walked further up. This team had built a small recreation of the orphanage. "Cherry, Plum, and Fairy. What a beautiful choice. The Matrons and I appreciate the gesture immensely. Now." Sunset held her breath. "First place goes to..."
She rounded the table's corner, making it over to Sunset's side. She, Timber, and Moonstone shared fertive glancees as her heart thumped against her chest.
Before Swan could reach them, she stopped. "Herbal, Blossom, and Comet, for their stunning crystal tower. What an ingenious way to use rock candy. Absolutely stunning, and you certainly deserve the top billing."
Sunset's heart fell, so hard it nearly crashed through the floor. Dimly, she heard Swan say something about 'honorable mentions', but she didn't care.
Tears welled in her vision. Before anypony could see her cry, she pushed away from the table and ran.
Moonstone tried to reach out to her, but she slapped the hoof away.
Heat and salt burned at her eyes. Blindly she raced through the halls, wondering where she should go.
Her room wasn't an option. Swan or Moonstone would expect her to be there.
Chest pounding, her hooves thumped against the carpet, and carried her up the stairwell. She turned, ran some more, to the second level, the third, only stopping at the fourth.
This floor was off limits, meant for the Matrons. She didn't care, though. Screw their stupid rules.
Rounding a corner, at the end of the hallway, she found a large room. A round rug had been placed at its center, atop that a long table and chairs of an older era's design. She guessed it must have been a meeting and rec room.
At the opposite wall - the largest length-wise - simmerd a glowing fireplace. Sunset felt magnetized by its warmth, and drew close. Before she did though, she shut the door and locked it with her magic.
Sniffling, she sat down. She curled up, wrapping her tail around herself and placing her snout between her hooves.
Stupid Matron Swan. It wasn't fair. Hers was the best. Hers. Just 'cause she didn't finish it didn't make it not the best.
For a long time, she sat there, wallowing. Wetness rolled down her cheeks in gentle beads, but she kept quiet. She wanted to be alone.
Eventually, when crying tired her out, her eyelids drooped. She closed them, registering but not really internalizing the heaviness in her limbs.
Rather than continue to think about the unfairness of it all, she chose to just not think. It was easier, and soon, she fell asleep.
Knock knock knock.
With a jolt, Sunset jerked to awakeness. Her ears perked, swiveling towards the sound. It took a second to process what it had been, but when she understood, she ignored it.
Knock knock knock.
'Go away', Sunset thought.
"Sunset, is that you in there?"
She said nothing.
"Please, open the door, sweetling."
"No."
Outside the door, Swan sighed. "Sunset, I know you're upset, but Moonstone is worried about you, and for that matter you're not supposed to be up here."
Who cares?"
"I would like to think you might. She's your friend, Sunset-"
"I meant being up here! You didn't pick me even though mine was the best, so why should I not come up here even though you've told us not to?"
"You know exactly why. Don't be foalish."
"I am a foal."
The knob rattled. "Sunset, I'm serious. Open the door, or you're grounded for a week. We can talk about this."
Sunset huffed. Lighting her horn, she unlocked the door.
"Thank you."
Swan came over, and sat down with Sunset. Noticing the wet stains on her cheeks, her frown deepend as she brushed them aside. "Have you been crying?"
"No."
"I'm sorry that you lost. For what it's worth I thought what you and your friends made was gorgeous."
"But."
"But," she sighed. "It wasn't finished."
"Still the best one, though," Sunset mumbled. Muzzle buried in her hooves, she stared at the rolling flame, avoiding Swan's gaze.
"Your team did win the honorable mention."
"Useless. Who cares. Not like I get a prize. And now that I acted up I won't even get the special gift you told me about."
Sunset's voice broke. At that realization, she struggled not to cry all over again.
Swan leant over, wrapping her up in her wings. "Oh, honey. I think I can make an exception."
Sunset kept quiet, listening to the beat of her heart and the crackle of burning wood. Swan said nothing as well, stroking her downy feathers along Sunset's back.
Eventually, Sunset couldn't bear the silence. She hated when quiet went on for too long, especially with another pony around.
"How long did I sleep for?"
Swan stopped her brushing. "A few hours. Everypony is asleep now. We looked in your room first, then every room after that but couldn't find you. We worried you might have run away, but the front doors were locked and Matron Mayflower said you hadn't left behind any traces of teleportation magic. I opted to look up here, and figured you were inside given the locked door, which Mayflower confirmed. I... figured you could use the alone time, however."
"Thanks," Sunset whispered.
"Of course."
Swan resumed her stroking, and Sunset continued to stay quiet.
"It's almost midnight," Swan said. "Perhaps you should get going to bed now, don't you think?"
Sunset looked up. "I wanna apply for Celestia's School."
Swan, briefly pausing her wing, cocked her head. "Celestia's school?"
"Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. I read about it in a book, and I wanna apply."
"Do you really think this is the time for this conversation?"
Sunset stood, moving away from the Matron. "I wanna go."
"Sunset-"
"I wanna go!" Sunset, glaring, stamped her hoof. "Enrollment is free anyway! Why do you care?"
"Because it's not easy to qualify, Sunset! And after this little outburst of yours because you lost some gingerbread house-building contest, how am I supposed to know you'll take it well if you don't get in? Nineteen of twenty unicorns who apply-"
"Don't get in, I know! I read the book! I'm not stupid!"
"I'm not saying your stupid, I'm saying you're sensitive, and for that matter you're incredibly undisciplined. You're bright, you're talented, you're one of the most powerful unicorns I've seen at the orphanage, but that does not a passing exam make. You need to prove to me you can focus properly rather than doing whatever you'd like, and that you can handle the sort of pressure that school will provide. Do you think it's all peaches and cream once you get in? No. Once you step into those halls, your free time all but disappears."
"I don't care."
"Well you should. Especially if you care anything for me, or Moonstone. I-" Swan gave a long and deep exhale, rubbing at her temples. "Look. All I'm saying is they're going to expect a lot from you, and what happens if you don't get in?"
"I'll try again."
"And if you fail."
"I'll do it again. And again and again and again until I qualify. They allow everypony from fillies to mares. I don't care how long it takes. I wanna go."
Matron Swan shook her head. In her blueberry eyes, turned purple by the red and yellow flames, Sunset saw in them a familiar sorrow. "You're really set on this, aren't you?"
Sunset nodded. "You can make it my gift, to enroll me."
"I've already bought your gift."
"Then give it to Moonstone."
Tears, faint but unmistakeable, formed at the edge of Swan's eyes.
Sunset had never seen her cry, but before she had the chance to process it Swan swooped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Okay. I'll enroll you.
"Thank you, Matron Swan."
Against her, Sunset felt Swan's chest lurch. "I love you, sweetling. Above anything else, I want you to understand that. I know I'm not your mother. I know I can never be your mother. But I love you."
Sunset, startled, muttered out a small but genuine, "I... I love you, too."
It was long moments before Swan released. She pulled back, got to her hooves, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Nevertheless, she smiled, or at least tried to.
"Come now, Sunshine. It's time to get you in bed."