It was another slow and quiet day around the Lulamoon household. Everyone had come downstairs for a hearty breakfast cooked up by Selena with Sunset assisting. She provided further assistance by cleaning up the dishes and helping to weed the garden.
It was noon when Sunset finished washing up and laid down on her bed. Spot climbed onto her stomach and laid down, panting as the summer sun warmed Sunset’s room. She picked up her headphones, preparing to kill a few hours with music when her door burst open.
“Trixie demands your presence at once!” Trixie stood in the doorway, an unseen wind tousling her hair.
Sunset raised her head and looked over. “Why and for what?”
Trixie marched into the room and loomed over Sunset. “Whenever we’re not training, you’ve been moping around. Trixie is sick of it. You’re becoming too much like Shimmer. So, Trixie has decided to give you the honor of accompanying her to the county fair today! You can thank Trixie later.”
“None of your friends wanted to go, did they?”
“Shut up; Trixie is trying to be nice!”
Sunset looked up at the ceiling. She was trying to take Rarity’s advice and give Twilight her space, a feat that proved easier said than done. After Twilight had missed the revival two days ago, Sunset had wanted to do something together today to make up for it.
But, again, Twilight was busy. She had at least sounded genuinely apologetic when she had turned Sunset down earlier that morning. It still sent Sunset’s spirits to rock bottom, and an outing with Trixie didn’t sound like the kind of morale booster she needed right now.
“Sorry, Trix. Maybe later.”
“Trixie wasn’t asking,” she said, hands on her hips and exuding an aura reminiscent of Selena’s. “You’re coming with me. So put on a smile and some sunscreen, and meet Trixie downstairs in ten minutes. Or Trixie will drag you out with magic.”
Sunset was going to challenge her to try it, but Trixie had already stomped out of the room and shut the door. The rebellious spirit in Sunset was tempted to stay put and see if Trixie would make good on her threat, but her stuffy room manifested a trickle of sweat down her forehead.
She groaned petulantly. “Fine, I’ll spend time with Trixie. But you’re coming too,” she said to Spot.
He woofed once and wagged his tail.
Sunset slipped on her boots and vest, leashed up Spot, and headed downstairs. Trixie waited in the living room, car keys floating over her palm.
“You made the correct choice,” she said, smirking.
Sunset didn’t engage her. The two girls and Spot headed out the door and piled into Trixie’s smiling blue buggy. Trixie checked herself in the mirror and turned the radio on before pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. Sunset let Spot stick his head out the window. It was a rare treat for him, and his tail wagged so hard, Sunset thought it might fall off.
“Sooo, we have a county fair?” Sunset asked as they exited onto the highway.
“Of course we do!” Trixie said with a snort. “It’s only one of the biggest events of the summer! Have you been hiding under a rock your entire time in this world?”
“No, I was hiding in a factory,” Sunset snarked. She was sure she vaguely remembered talk of a county fair in the lead-up to summer breaks in the past. But a ‘county’ fair brought to mind haybales, cheap rides, and sad clowns. Sunset had immediately discarded the idea of ever attending. Even now, it sounded like today would be a drawn-out experience.
Of course, she had had similar misgivings about the street fair she had attended last fall. She had been correct, but granted, she had been dragged there against her will, and she hadn’t exactly been in a great state of mind.
Déja vu. Okay, try to be positive. Be open-minded; try to enjoy a new experience. And have fun… with Trixie. Harder, but possible.
The highway took them west, past the junkyard and beyond the city limits. Short hills rolled around them, their grass yellow from the summer heat. Trixie blasted the AC, negated by Spot’s open window, though she nor Sunset had the heart to pull him away.
The hills leveled out and the fairgrounds came into view. There was a smattering of colorful tents and small buildings with a Ferris wheel, a tilt-a-whirl, and a roller coaster looming in the background. It was more impressive than what Sunset had pictured in her head, but it didn’t shake the idea of cheap entertainment and cheap food.
They found a spot to park in the dirt parking lot and stepped out into the hot summer air. Sunset wrinkled her nose at the smell of fried meat while Spot eagerly pulled on his leash, his tail a blur.
Trixie stretched her arms over her head. “Ahh, a perfect day for the fair! Trixie hopes there’s a street magician today so she can show up to prove their inferiority.”
“I’m surprised you or your dad didn’t volunteer to perform here,” Sunset said, pulling Spot away from a melting ice cream cone.
“We were a little too busy globe-trotting for an ancient family heirloom to sign up,” Trixie said with no small hint of pride.
Thankfully, the line for tickets had an awning to provide shade. Sunset had built up sweat on her forehead just from the walk over. Unfortunately, the fairground itself was covered in black pavement that absorbed and radiated the sun’s heat.
I have fire powers. Shouldn’t I be immune to heat? Sunset complained to herself.
“So, where should we start?” Trixie asked, looking at the map she had been provided. “Trixie thinks we should eat first, then walk around, and save the rides for last.”
“Sure, it’s your call,” Sunset said lazily.
Trixie folded the map up and shoved it into her pocket. “Could you at least pretend you’re trying to have fun?”
“Gosh and golly, Trix! I’m just like so totes excited to be at the fair!” Sunset said, using her best valley girl imitation and skipping in place.
Trixie leaned back. “Please never do that again.”
“It’s one or the other, Trixie. Pick one,” Sunset said, listless again.
“Ugh!” Trixie rolled her eyes and walked off.
Sunset allowed herself a small, amused smile and followed after Trixie, pulling Spot along.
*******
Rarity heard the bell over the shop door ring and leaped out of her chair. She ran out of the back room and found Coco standing in the middle of the lobby with a paper bag in hand.
“Coco, darling!” Rarity wrapped her in a tight hug. “Allow me to congratulate you again!”
Coco leaned into the hug. “Thank you, Miss Rarity. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”
Rarity pulled away but kept her hands on Coco’s shoulders. “So, has there been any word yet? Tell me everything!”
“Nothing’s official yet,” Coco said, “but the response from the community has been overwhelmingly positive. Everyone is saying it was the best revival they had ever seen! And not just Coloratura’s performance; the entire show! But ‘Rara’ is trending on social media now. Everyone wants to see more of her acoustic performances.”
Rarity clapped her hands and bounced up and down. “Oh, I know! Applejack called me and told me the good news earlier! I’m so glad everything was a hit success!”
“Me too. I really couldn’t have done my part without you, so thank you, thank you, Miss Rarity!” Coco gushed, bowing her head.
“Stop thanking me, darling. They were your designs. And speaking of, I saw a few more in there that I would love to help bring to life.”
Coco clasped her hands together, stars in her eyes. “I would love that, Miss Rarity!”
“Excellent. And then, we can go over some of the finer details on how to run the store. I’ll make sure you have everything you need to take care of Carousel Boutique when I depart.” Rarity turned for the back room, but Coco cleared her throat and held out the paper bag she had brought.
“Umm, I want you to have this, Miss Rarity. I know you said stop thanking you, but, let me say thank you one more time.”
Rarity gave her a guilty smile. “Sweetness, the reason I had to do what I did was to make up for what I didn’t do.”
“Well…” Coco gave her a devious smile. “If you did do what you were supposed to do in the first place, I would still be thanking you for helping me do it. So, here.”
Rarity gave an overdramatic sigh. “Very well, if you insist.” She took the bag, reached inside, and pulled out a vaguely familiar red beret. It was hand-sewn from incredibly soft wool and had a cursive R stitched on the side.
“I based it off my Yarn-Off design, but I thought red would be a better color for you. And I know it gets colder up north, so—”
Rarity flung her arms around Coco. “I love it. And I will cherish it always.”
When they pulled apart, both girls had to wipe tears from their eyes. Rarity’s heart felt fit to burst, a feeling usually reserved for when she was sharing a moment with her friends. She held the beret up to admire it further, and under the fluorescent store lights, thought she saw the entire thing glimmer in a rainbow hue.
No… that hadn’t been an illusion. Rarity saw that! The image replayed in her mind: six vibrant colors that flowed over the beret before vanishing.
She looked at the ceiling and then to the window. There was nothing here that could have caused that illusion, and unless Coco was secretly magic, Rarity doubted it was her doing.
“What’s wrong, Miss Rarity?” Coco asked.
“Um, nothing,” Rarity said, still appraising the beret. “I’m just touched you would make this nice a gift for me.”
“It’s the least I could do after the generosity you’ve shown me.”
Rarity smiled absently. Generosity? Only after I took advantage of her. But I suppose it was a lesson learned. Eyes still on her new hat, she turned for the back room again. “Come now, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Coco gave an eager squee and followed after her, skipping toward the sewing machine.
Rarity took a seat at her desk. She gave the hat one more squint, then set it on her head. Nothing happened. Had she really just imagined it? She hadn’t imagined the deep warmth that had accompanied it.
Rarity furrowed her brow as something tickled the back of her neck. Magic was afoot. It wasn’t sinister; she was certain of that. She wished she could ask Sunset or Twilight for their opinion, though they could have easily dismissed it as a trick of the light.
Just as Rarity was about to put the whole thing out of her head, something Twilight said pushed to the front of her thoughts; something about pure hearts understanding the virtues of the world.
Pinkie got her key after helping Sonata truly reform; by being a genuine friend to her. She gave Pinkie her wristband. What if…
Rarity took the beret off her head and peered at it again. Was she being presumptuous? She had sacrificed her dream and helped make Coco’s come true. In turn, she had been gifted a beautiful beret that she swore shone in a rainbow hue.
Was she holding a key to the Rainbow of Light?
She jumped out of her seat. Was that the secret of their keys; helping others and discovering something about their harmonic alignment? If that was the case, she needed to get this to the chest! She needed to tell her friends!
“Oh, Miss Rarity, while you’re up, could you get me the roll of periwinkle, please?”
Rarity’s adrenaline slowed. She looked at Coco, measuring a roll of fabric with a smile. How many times had Rarity run out on Coco for some magic-related shenanigan?
Too many, she thought. Rarity tucked the beret onto her head and walked to the fabric closet. “Of course, Coco, one second.”
The secrets of magic could wait a little while longer. Rarity had more important things to do.
*******
Sunset didn’t hate fried food. French fries were delicious, and there were too many nights to count when she missed deep-fried hay from her Canterlot. But, watching food stall operators smother everything from hot dogs to ice cream in thick batter and drown it in bubbling oil made her sick.
She could barely hide her disgust as she watched Trixie bite into a square of deep-fried butter. “Why?” was all Sunset could ask.
“To your unrefined palate, it may look disgusting, but it tastes like French toast.”
“I’m just gonna take your word for it.”
Spot made a whine of desire, but if a dog from Equestria couldn’t eat deep-fried butter, she wasn’t about to find out if an Earth dog could.
The main concourse of the fair had food stalls aplenty. Mixed in with the cacophony of the crowd were the snaps and crackles of fryers and popcorn machines. Kids walked by them with bundles of cotton candy and fried foods similar to Trixie’s, usually on a stick.
Just beyond the food were rows of game booths that instantly reminded Sunset of the street fair from last year. Tests of strength, ring toss, knock the bottles down, water guns, and a dozen more, only of higher quality and with better prizes.
Trixie finished her snack and tossed the trash into the nearest waste bin before rubbing her hands together. “Now, which game should Trixie conquer first?”
Sunset gave a noncommittal shrug.
“Ugh, you’re boring,” Trixie bemoaned. “Trixie almost wishes you would go back to pretending you were having fun.”
“Wow, Trix! All these games just look uber fun! I totes can’t decide which to play first!” Sunset pressed her hands against her cheeks. “Oooh, the balloon-popping game has a stuffed bear for a prize! But, gasp, the ring toss has a giant parrot! It’s just so hard to decide with how fantastical everything is!”
“Alright, alright!” Trixie stuck her tongue out. “That’s enough.”
“Good, ‘cause I don’t have the energy to keep that up.”
“Then the least you can do is cheer Trixie on while she wins some prizes.” Trixie strutted to the balloon-popping game and handed the stall owner a ticket. He handed her three darts in return.
“Prepare to be amazed!” Trixie said, cocking her arm back. She flung her first dart and succeeded in landing in the mesh right between two balloons.
“Yeah, I’m certainly amazed,” Sunset said with snidely. She had stooped down to give Spot water and ear scritches.
Trixie growled. “Trixie was just warming up.” She picked up the dart and took aim, pressing her tongue between her lips. She flicked her wrist forward and the dart sailed and popped a yellow balloon. Spot barked at the sudden sound.
“Haha! In your face!” Trixie cheered, pointing a finger down dangerously close to Sunset’s nose.
Sunset pushed her hand away. “It’s one dart. Calm down.”
Trixie scrunched her nose and turned to finish her game, popping the last balloon. Her prize was a fidget spinner. She spun it on her thumb, then when no one was looking, floated it over her palm.
Sunset arched an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you use magic to win the game?”
Trixie scoffed. “And ruin the challenge? Hardly sportsmanlike.”
“Since when did you care about being sportsmanlike?”
“It’s a silly game.” Trixie spun the toy faster. “Trixie isn’t going to waste magic on it.”
“Whatever.” Sunset heard Trixie’s exasperated sigh and gave a guilty puff of her own. She knew she was being crotchety, but she wasn’t in the mood to play and socialize. Her thoughts were still on Twilight. While she appreciated Trixie’s gesture, Sunset would have rathered Twilight’s company.
Her hand reflexively went to her pocket and pulled out her phone. No new messages.
Trixie led them to the next game: knock down the bottles. As she was handed a baseball, Sunset remembered her outing to the street fair again, and how she had won that stuffed unicorn sitting at home. It hadn’t talked to her in a while. Hopefully, a good sign for her psyche.
With her first throw, Trixie could only knock the top bottle down. In her defense, Sunset thought the bottles looked far sturdier than the ones at the street booth. Trying again, Trixie managed to get the remaining two.
“Haha! Another prize for Trixie!” She selected a metal slinky, then held the last ball out to Sunset. “Come on, it won’t kill you.”
Sunset huffed and took it, for nostalgia’s sake more than anything. She took a quick aim and threw with all her might, surprising herself when she knocked two bottles down.
“Congratulations, miss,” the booth owner said. “You can pick any prize from the second shelf.”
Sunset looked over at the prize selection. Spider rings, stickers, figurines, and small stuffed animals. She pointed to a spotted yellow gecko. “I’ll take that one I guess.”
He scooped it up and handed it over. The gecko fit squarely in Sunset’s palm and had an easy-going smile. It was actually cute if Sunset was honest.
“What do you think?” Sunset asked. Trixie opened her mouth to respond, but Sunset knelt and held the gecko out to Spot. He sniffed it and gave an affirming tail wag.
“Guess he can stay then,” Sunset said, amused by Trixie’s indignant cheek puffing. She gave it a little pet on the head. She would have to come up with a name for him later. “But if you start talking, we’re gonna have problems.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Sunset said as she pocketed her stuffed gecko.
They continued down the rows of games, Trixie expanding her prize collection with each victory. She offered Sunset several more opportunities to take a turn, but Sunset turned her down. None of the other fair prizes looked good, and she was fine with just her new gecko.
As they walked, Sunset swore she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but every time she looked, her notifications were empty. Sunset growled to herself and wiped away a layer of sweat off her forehead. If she was going to be miserable about Twilight, she’d have preferred to do it in a place with air conditioning.
“Put your phone away and watch Trixie,” Trixie said as she was handed a mallet. They had reached the test of strength game, the last challenge for Trixie to conquer. Sunset couldn’t understand how she exerted so much energy in this heat.
Trixie lifted the mallet over her head and slammed it down on the see-saw. The bar flew halfway up the poll before dropping like a stone.
“See?” Trixie panted. “Great and powerful!” She picked an inflatable toy mallet for her prize and waved it in front of Sunset’s face.
Sunset slapped it away, but Trixie followed up with the real one. “Your turn.”
“Trixie I don’t want to—”
“Just try it,” Trixie snapped, shoving the hammer into Sunset’s hands and taking Spot’s leash.
She scowled but accepted it and stepped up to the see-saw. Channeling her frustrations, she heaved the surprisingly heavy mallet up and brought it down with all the force she could muster. The bar flew up and hit the bell with a soft ding!
“Winner!” the stand operator cried. From a bin behind the strength test, he pulled out a painted, wooden replica of Thor’s hammer.
“Lucky,” Trixie said enviously.
“Here, take it,” Sunset said, passing it off. While it was cool, she didn’t trust herself not to abuse a giant wooden mallet.
Trixie took it but clicked her tongue. “How is this not exciting to you?”
Sunset took Spot back and walked away, looking for an unoccupied table under one of the awnings scattered about. “Because it’s just a toy.”
“No, I mean with all of this?” Trixie asked, stomping after her. “You’ve been anti-fun since we got here.”
Sunset turned around. “Yeah, because it’s hot, it smells terrible, and I’m bored.”
Trixie waved Thor’s hammer. “Trixie has been trying to get you to play some games!”
“I don’t want to play any of these games!” Sunset shouted, shoulders tensing. “They’re cheap entertainment with cheap prizes!”
“Uughh! If you’re going to be this much of a grouch, maybe we should just go home!”
“Fine, sounds good!” Sunset threw her arms up. “I don’t even know why you dragged me out here!”
Trixie dropped the hammer and shouted, “Because Trixie wanted to have fun with her sister!”
Sunset’s shoulders relaxed and she dropped her arms. She stared at Trixie who looked just as shocked as Sunset felt. “Your… what?”
“You heard me!” Trixie blurted again, then turned away from Sunset, cheeks pink. “You’re the annoying sister Trixie…I never had. I hated you at first. But then I got used to you living with us. And it actually became fun. And… you helped save my dad. And with summer coming to an end, I realized I’m going to miss you. So, excuse me for trying to spend a little time with you before I leave. I was hoping this would cheer you up and make some fun and happy memories while we still have the chance.”
Sunset reached up and touched the necklace Trixie had gotten her for Christmas last year. It was patterned like her cutie mark and gleamed in the sunlight. It was one of the nicest gifts anyone had ever gotten her. And here Trixie was, trying to be nice again while Sunset was acting… like her old self.
“I’m sorry, Trix,” Sunset said, stepping closer. “I’m just worried about Twilight and irritated that I haven’t spent any time with her, I kinda forgot about spending time with anyone else. And, I never knew that’s how you felt about me.”
“It’s a surprise to me too,” Trixie said, still giving Sunset the cold shoulder, “that I would get attached to you of all people. But you clearly don’t feel the same.”
Sunset rested a hand on Trixie’s shoulder. “That’s not true! I honestly just never thought about it. I’d always had a strained relationship with my family. My parents worked so hard, I barely got to spend any time with them. And the pony who I would consider a second mother, I stabbed in the back. I’m not good at this family thing—I just figured out friendship.”
She moved her hand back to her necklace. “But, I’m touched if you really think of me as a sister.”
Trixie looked over her shoulder, though her bangs covered most of her face. “Moondancer and I used to be close. She would come over all the time. When her mom passed away, she slowly faded from our lives. I missed having someone else like that around. Even if you’re far more annoying than Moondancer was.”
“Hey, I’m not an egotistical diva! No offense.” Sunset paused. “Actually, never mind, offense meant.”
Trixie held a hand to her mouth and snickered. “I shouldn’t be laughing. I do miss her a lot. But… I’ve grown annoyingly fond of you, too.”
Sunset smiled softly. “Sorry I’ve been a pain today. But, hey, that’s what sisters do sometimes, right?”
Turning to face Sunset, Trixie rolled her eyes but smiled back. “Just don’t make a habit of it.” Her smile wilted and she looked at the ground. “We can go home if you want though.”
Taking a deep breath, Sunset shook her head. “No, you brought me out here to have fun. I haven’t exactly been trying, so let’s enjoy the rest of the day.”
Trixie brightened. “Good. Because Trixie is determined to ride every ride here!” She picked up Thor’s hammer and pointed toward the roller coaster. “Let us be off!”
“You got it, Sis.”
“You can just keep referring to Trixie as Trixie.”
*******
Fluttershy bent her knees and set the large bag of dog food down in front of the next row of kennels. She took a shovel, scooped a large helping of kibbles, and poured it into the first bowl before moving on to the next. All the animals were out in the yard, leaving the inner enclosure quiet, so Fluttershy hummed a light tune to herself.
She was going to miss this; being around animals so often, playing, feeding, even cleaning up after them. She knew Ms. Tenderheart and the other volunteers would be fine, but Fluttershy, being the mother hen she was couldn’t help but worry. She would need to leave a detailed list of every animal's specific needs and habits she had picked up on. But what about any new animals that came in? Ms. Tenderheart was good, but she was so often busy with paperwork and medicine. Fluttershy wished she had a professional assistant like Rarity did.
Ding!
Fluttershy paused her food refilling and jumped to her feet. Someone was at the front counter! “I’ll get it!” she called out to no one in particular. She jogged out to the lobby, her heart somersaulting entering.
Moondancer stood at the front counter wearing a knee-length purple day dress and black stockings. She shuffled in place and looked at the ground when Fluttershy walked in. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat. “G-good day, Fluttershy.”
“Um, hi,” Fluttershy squeaked. “H-how are you doing?”
“I’m… you know…”
Fluttershy honestly had no idea, but just nodded politely. “That’s… good. Wh-what brings you here? Um, sorry! I-I mean, welcome to the Canterlot Animal Shelter and Rescue Center! How can I help you today?”
Moondancer looked up and smiled. Her cheek was red. “I, um, I just came here to make sure that you received the charity auction check.”
Fluttershy almost skipped in place. “Yes, we did! Thank you so much, Moondancer! We had a leak in the back that we were so worried about paying for! But now, we can cover that and afford more medicine for our sicker animals.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear!” Moondancer clapped her hands. “I’m glad I could help out.”
Her shoulders dropped and her happy smile turned wistful. “I actually made a difference… that’s nice,” she said softly.
Fluttershy walked around the counter, heart beating faster as she got closer. “Of course you did. I can’t thank you enough.”
“It was my pleasure,” Moondancer said, some of her vigor returning. “I do love animals, and I have nothing but admiration for you taking care of the ones that were lost or abandoned.”
Fluttershy sighed, exhaling some of her vigor. “I wish it didn’t happen, but I’m glad I can be here to help. It’s going to be hard to move on at the end of the month.”
Moondancer looked around and tilted her ear toward the door to the back. “You’re not the only person who volunteers, right?”
“No, of course not!” Fluttershy pulled on her fingers. “I mean, sometimes. I’m the most consistent volunteer. But, during the summer, plenty of people come by to help! It’s just… during the fall when school starts, people get busy… and we don’t have enough money to pay people for very long…”
“I see.” Moondancer pursed her lips in thought, then pulled her phone out and began tapping away. “Well, what if I set up a stipend for the shelter to be allocated for labor costs? That way, your employer can afford full-time workers. If that’s alright with you, of course.”
Fluttershy stared, open-mouthed until her lungs reminded her she needed to breathe. “Y-you would do that?”
“Of course.” Moondancer looked up from her phone. “Only with permission. And there would be no strings attached. Just keep doing—oof!”
Fluttershy tackled Moondancer in a hug, squeezing her as tight as possible. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for us! And that’s after you already donated! Thank you, Moondancer!”
“You’re welcome,” Moondancer said in a higher-pitched voice.
Strands of Moondancer’s hair tickled Fluttershy’s nose. She smelled of hibiscus and roses. With a small yelp, Fluttershy realized what she was doing and jumped back, face burning. “Sorry!”
Moondancer smoothed out her dress, her face red as well. “That’s quite alright. Um, if that is settled, I should be going. I didn’t mean to stay as long as I have.”
“Oh no, you’re not overstaying your welcome at all! Please, stay as long as you like! I love the company!” The words were a waterfall out of Fluttershy’s mouth. She had to clap a hand over it to keep herself from babbling more.
Moondancer made a soft, throaty giggle. “I’m afraid I have other business to attend to. And I’m sure you have duties as well.” She crossed one hand over her heart and bowed. “It was lovely to see you, Fluttershy. I will have someone contact you when the annuity fund is finalized.”
She turned to go, triggering the rush of remaining words building up behind Fluttershy’s hand. Feeling the surge of bravery she had experienced at the gala, Fluttershy moved her hand and blurted, “Would you like to get some tea with me?”
The silence couldn’t have lasted more than three seconds, but it dragged on for an eternity. Moondancer turned around, her fully visible eye wide. “Um…” She cleared her throat, but when she spoke again, her voice was still shaky.
“That’s very kind of you, Fluttershy. Unfortunately, I will be busy for the foreseeable future.” Before Fluttershy’s spirits could crash, Moondancer met her eyes. “But… perhaps… before you head off for college I could squeeze in a tea date with you.”
Fluttershy’s heart crawled up to her throat. “That would be nice,” she said in her mousiest voice by far.
“Then it’s a date.” Moondancer smiled and twiddled her finders before exiting the shelter.
It was only after the door closed did Fluttershy remember to breathe again. She couldn’t believe it. She had asked a girl out! She had asked Moondancer out! And she had said yes!
Fluttershy gave a high-pitched, nervous laugh. She could not tell Rainbow. Or Sunset.
*******
Sunset wobbled out of the Gravitron spinning ride, her body readjusting to the lack of centripetal force pressing on it.
Twilight would have loved this ride. She could calculate how fast my head is spinning.
She shook her head and grounded herself in the moment. No more thinking about Twilight until she got home. She was having fun with Trixie. The magician girl stumbled out of the ride and clutched Sunset’s shoulder to keep steady.
“Why is the world still spinning?”
Sunset smirked as she untied Spot’s leash from the guard rail and scooped him up, almost sending Trixie toppling over. “The world is usually spinning.”
“You know what Trixie means!” She righted herself, then grabbed their bag of prizes. “Was that the last one?”
“Unless you want to go on the merry-go-round.” Sunset jabbed a thumb at the carousel of brightly colored horses.
“Trixie thinks that would be an anti-climactic end to our adventure.”
“Agreed.” The two shared a giggle and moved toward the vendor stalls. The last two hours had been spent riding almost every ride at the fair. They got some relief from the heat at the log flume ride and were both nearly sick from the tilt-a-whirl. Halfway through, they took a break at the doggy corner to feed Spot and give him a chance to run off-leash.
When she had stopped sulking and opened herself up to the experience, Sunset found the fair enjoyable. She talked and joked with Trixie while they waited in line, and while most of the rides couldn’t compare to the thrill of flying on her own wings, they were still fun, especially the plunges some of the roller coasters made.
It had all served as a nice distraction from Twilight. Sunset had managed to go the entire time without checking her phone. Still, as she and Trixie approached the first tent of trinkets, Sunset pulled her phone out and her heart sank at the empty inbox.
“Blegh.” Trixie stuck her tongue out. “It’s times like this Trixie is glad she’s single.”
“Is that by choice?” Sunset asked with a smirk and a raised brow.
“Trixie will hex you.”
“I’m joking,” Sunset said dryly. “I’m sure someone will find you irresistible someday.”
Trixie flipped her hair. “Of course they will. Trixie is not only great and powerful, she is also charming and beautiful.”
“And so humble.”
“Trixie is glad you see her finer qualities.” She stooped over a display case and looked at the glittering jewelry inside. “Now, either tell Trixie what’s wrong or stop looking at your phone like a lost puppy.”
Sunset looked down at Spot, who looked up at her with big brown eyes asking for pets. She put her phone away and obliged.
“After what happened with Adagio, I feel like Twilight has been growing distant. Both from the group and… from me. And Rarity says I should give her space to let her find her self-worth again with this internship, but that’s all she’s been doing! I just want to spend some time with her before she goes away.”
“Oh my gosh,” Trixie groaned. She straightened up and whirled to face Sunset. “Then just tell her you want to spend time with her and go do it. Even if she acts ungrateful at first, eventually, she’ll realize what you’re trying to do and appreciate it.”
Sunset scratched the back of her head, cheeks red. “Heh, again, sorry.”
Trixie waved a dismissive hand. “Apology accepted. But, see? It worked in the end. Trixie can’t believe you’ve been moping about that this entire time.”
“I just don’t want to make anything worse.”
“You’re her girlfriend. She’s in love with you,” Trixie deadpanned. “Go remind her of that. I seriously doubt you can make things worse with that.”
To Sunset’s surprise, Trixie had a point. It had worked once on the Ferris wheel. However, the fact that Sunset had to go do it again proved it hadn’t been that effective. Still, if it got Sunset one more date and instilled some reassurance into Twilight, she’d do it. Honestly, Sunset felt silly that she had let this sit for so long. Yes, Rarity was right and Twilight needed the space to find her path, but Sunset needed Twilight.
Wow, you sap. Our days of being a cold loner are so over.
“Thanks, Trix,” Sunset said, standing up again. “You give surprisingly good advice.”
Trixie gave her a full smile that reminded Sunset of Artemis. “Another one of Trixie’s stellar traits, yes. But also, your problem isn’t that difficult.” She moved over to the other side of the tent, freeing up space in front of the jewelry section.
Sunset browsed the silver trinkets, many of them glittering with fake gemstones. One did catch her eye, however. She waved the vendor over and pointed to it. “Could I have that one please?”
She made her purchase while Trixie was distracted by wooden carvings. Apart from the box, Sunset didn’t ask for any packaging. She walked over to Trixie and held the box out.
Trixie put down the mask she was examining and took the box. “What’s this?”
“A gift,” Sunset said. “For my sister.”
Trixie’s cheeks turned scarlet. “Oh… you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Then give it back if you don’t want it; that cost a pretty penny.”
Trixie clutched the box to her chest and blew a raspberry at Sunset’s outstretched hand. When Sunset retracted her hand and laughed, Trixie finally opened it. Resting on the white cushion was a silver crescent moon. Trixie pulled the necklace up, eyes alight with amazement.
“Sunset, it’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. I thought it could match mine.” She tapped her sun necklace.
Stowing the box in her pocket, Trixie slipped the chain around her neck and let the moon fall on top of her breastbone. “How do I look?”
Sunset gave her an appreciative smile. “Great and powerful as always.”
Looking surprisingly bashful, Trixie turned away. “Come on. Let’s go home. That’s enough sappy feelings for one day.”
Sunset agreed silently. And riding so many rides had left her surprisingly tired. The three maneuvered their way out of the fairgrounds, the sun finally setting and bringing the heat down with it. As they made their way to the car, Sunset looked down at her own necklace.
Mom, Dad… I hope you guys are doing well. And I hope I’ll see you again someday. But in the meantime, I’m doing pretty good.
*******
Twilight looked up at the whiteboard wheeled next to Starlight’s desk. Yesterday, after Twilight had told Starlight everything she had learned from Stygian’s journal, Starlight had filled the board with copious notes. Coming in today, Twilight found the board overflowing with Post-it notes, pictures, and red string. It looked more like a conspiracy board.
Starlight poked her head out from behind the whiteboard. “Hello, Twilight, welcome in! Would you like some coffee? We have a busy day today!”
“Hello, Miss Starlight,” Twilight said stiffly. “No thank you. I’m not allowed to have caffeine.”
Despite sharing what she knew about magic, Twilight couldn’t shake her newfound unease of being around Starlight. There were also lingering traces of resentment for being lied to, or as Starlight would say to soften it, ‘misdirected.’
Though Twilight was reassured the chances were slim, the possibility that Tirek or Tempest could pop in at any moment never left her peripheral thoughts. And, of course, there was the underlying guilt stemming from keeping her friends and Sunset in the dark about what she was doing. Her last date with Sunset felt like a lifetime ago.
But she squared her shoulders and gritted her teeth. She was too far in to back out now. If a little discomfort and heartache meant saving her friends and the world, then so be it.
Starlight stepped around the whiteboard, a mug of coffee in hand. “That’s a shame.” She took a long sip. “So, I went over our notes from yesterday—”
“I noticed.”
“—and added a few of my own, as well as initial ideas on how we might correct Merlin’s little mistake.” She tapped one of the notes. “All we have to do is open up a portal to that pocket dimension. I know it sounds difficult, but, we already know it’s been done before!”
“But we don’t know how,” Twilight argued. “And nothing in Stygian’s notes mentions how Merlin did either.”
“I’m sure a lab full of top-notch scientists can figure it out,” Starlight said chipperly. “I have Night Glider bringing down our particle accelerator as a starting point.”
Twilight gave an uncertain shrug. “I guess particle physics is one place to start. But, unless we can build a hadron collider, I don’t think we’ll find much progress.”
Starlight took a contemplative sip of her coffee. “Building a collider isn’t impossible, just time-consuming. And expensive. And Moondancer’s already nagging that we’ve gone over budget this month. But we need to do something.”
Twilight made short paces in front of Starlight’s desk. “If we at least had a reference to pull from. All of your technology was based on magic we’ve previously seen.”
Starlight nodded. “And we haven’t seen anyone hop dimensions.”
Twilight stopped pacing and gasped in realization, then quickly recoiled.
“You thought of something?” Starlight asked, an eager light in her eyes.
“Um, yes… maybe? I… I don’t know.” Twilight bit her lip. Despite all the information she had spilled, she had never mentioned Sunset hailing from a different world. Magic was one thing, extra-dimensional aliens were another.
Before Twilight could come up with a lie, Starlight gasped with an epiphany. “Sunset’s from another dimension!”
Twilight’s heart froze. “You know about that?”
“Moondancer mentioned it,” Starlight said airily. “I didn’t believe her until I met the other Sunset from this world. If we can find what the foreign Sunset used to travel to our dimension, perhaps we can use that as our reference!”
Twilight inwardly cursed. She couldn’t lead Starlight to the portal statue, could she? And as far as Sunset had told her, the portal only led to Equestria. So, how much help could it be?
Starlight laid a hand on Twilight’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m not going to harm Sunset or her home dimension in any way, Twilight. I just want to know how she got here. It could be the key to bringing magic back to this world.”
That was true. It was the reason Twilight chose to stay. Still, she bit her lip. This felt like some violation of trust, even with Starlight’s promise.
But if the technology we make is based on the Equestrian portal, not only could we potentially bring magic back, we could open our own portal to Equestria!
It would be the greatest gift Twilight could ever give Sunset. And that was assuming this line of research even yielded results. With the portal dormant, Twilight had her doubts. So, what was the harm?
“Okay,” Twilight said, swallowing the shakiness in her voice, “I’ll show you.”