With a gasp, Aria opened her eyes. They darted about wildly, but her breathing slowed as she recognized where she was.
Having lived as long as she had, there were many, many memories that had faded over the years, and even ones that had disappeared entirely – hundreds of thousands of meals she didn’t remember eating, steps she didn’t remember taking, and clothes she would never recall she’d worn. But there were some things that she would never, ever forget, even if she lived to the end of the earth itself – the feeling of teeth sinking into her flesh, the terrible strength that whipped her about like a ragdoll, and the way a knife felt when plunged into living tissue again and again. Most of all, she would never forget how the cold air burned her lungs while she ran.
She looked down at her arm. Time heals all wounds, and a thousand years was a long time for healing. The scars had long faded into nothing, but the flesh couldn’t forget any more than the mind could; sometimes, when it was very cold, it ached in remembrance. Shivering, she pulled the blanket around herself as tightly as she could. It was a bit of an odd thing to do, she realized, as she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep with a blanket over her.
Sonata, she thought, allowing herself a small, fond smile.
Despite the hangover, waking up had been easy enough. Standing up, Aria found, was another matter entirely. She’d spent the entire night crumpled against the banister, and the moment she tried to do anything more demanding than turn her head, her back protested violently. The bruising around her ribs did not help the situation in any way. She briefly contemplated just going back to sleep and dealing with this later, but then considered what might happen if Adagio woke up and found her still lying here. Slowly and with much groaning, grunting, and the popping and cracking of joints, she worked herself into an upright position, using the wall for support. Then she noticed something sufficiently interesting to make her admit to herself that she was just being lazy and melodramatic. Cracking her neck and shrugging off the stiffness in her back, she took a second look and confirmed that the door to Adagio’s room was, in fact, slightly ajar. Cautiously, she shuffled over and peered through the crack. The eldest siren was nowhere to be seen, nor was the bathroom across the hall occupied.
Even back in better times, the idea of Adagio being up this early was unheard of. Since the Canterlot High debacle, she was rarely vertical before noon, if she was going to be at all, which often wasn’t the case. Ever so cautiously, Aria pushed the door open, fully expecting to find a poofy mass of orange hair passed out in a corner or behind the bed…but she didn’t. When she realized that Adagio really wasn’t there, she felt a twinge of what she knew to be the very dangerous sensation of curiosity picking at the back of her mind. There was indeed a laptop on the desk that stood against the far wall, but it was shut off and closed. However, that wasn’t what interested her. Next to it were two items – one was a heavily-bound book, its cover adorned in gold leafing and a language that she didn’t recognize. The other was a photograph, whose subject she was very familiar with; the image of those red and gold locks – wreathed by triumphant light – was another thing that would forever be etched into her psyche. As much as she wanted to poke around a little more, she had no idea how to operate a computer and decided not to press her luck.
When Aria made her way down the stairs the ground floor was deserted as well. The new day had just begun to dawn, and it appeared that even Sonata was still asleep. Blearily, she staggered into the kitchen, her brain crying out for coffee, only to find a pot of it already sitting on the counter. There were dishes in the sink as well, the aftermath of what looked to be fairly Spartan breakfast preparations.
Adagio had actually gotten up and gone somewhere, and it wasn’t the liquor store.
Aria poured herself a cup of coffee and took a small sip, rolling it across her palette, both to determine if it had been brewed properly and to screen for any detectable poisons. The flavor was decent, and if it was laced with any lethal substances, they were tasteless and odorless. All in all, it was a surprisingly competent affair, something she’d nearly forgotten Adagio was capable of in recent months. Satisfied, she retrieved her jacket and stepped out onto the back porch.
Today was the second day in at least as many years she’d watched the sunrise. Yesterday, she’d been a bit too preoccupied to pay it much mind. Now, while there were certainly a few things bothering her – the most notable being how disappointed Sonata would be in her failure to have so much as a civil conversation with their “sister” – she couldn’t help but lose herself in the striking halo of red and gold that now crested horizon. It reminded her of something that made her feel a twinge of anxiety, but it was too early, and her mind was far too foggy to think of what. Whatever it was, it lit a fire in her chest, and she knew exactly what she was going to do today. Her fingers had not touched a keyboard in far too long, and they ached with the same restless imperative as her heart:
I’ve got the music in me.
-----
“Stop,” Aria said sharply, holding up a hand. The guitar strings rang to a halt as she penned a last set of notes.
The morning hadn’t worn on long before she’d crossed paths with Sonata, and after a simple breakfast, they’d finally resumed the composition that the past few days’ tumult had caused them to abandon. And now it was done...or nearly so. Flipping back to the first page, Aria began to scan it line by line with practiced ease, the notes ringing in her head as fast as she could manage them without sacrificing precision and clarity. She made a few corrections and then went over it again, and then again. When at last she was able to run through the song without having to change anything, she knew it was finished. Satisfied, she picked up another music book and began scribbling down a second copy of the piece, taking enough care to ensure that Sonata would find it legible.
“Alright,” she said when she was done, handing the book to her sister siren, “let’s run through this.”
“Um, Ari…” Sonata interjected awkwardly.
“What?”
“I have no idea how to read this.”
Aria paused. One of her eyes began to twitch.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded, “I know you can read music! How else did you recognize that song on my wall?”
“Well, yeah, I can a little,” Sonata shrugged, “but it was mostly because you had the words written under the notes.”
“I need a drink,” Aria said in a high-pitched voice, standing abruptly. She lowered the cover over her keys and made a beeline for the kitchen.
“Ari, c’mon…It’s not even noon, don’t…why are you so upset?”
“Upset?” Aria shrilled, “I’m not upset, I’m confused. What was the point of us writing a song together if you can’t even read what we’ve written?”
“I do want to learn,” Sonata said, shifting in her seat, “but for now, can’t you just tell me which parts we play when? I know how they all go, I’m just not sure how you put them together…”
“I did tell you,” Aria moaned, smacking her forehead, “I wrote it all down right there.” She jabbed her finger toward the freshly-scrawled sheet music. “That’s how music works, Sonata.”
“But what about all those songs that you, me, and Adagio sang?” Sonata countered, hand tightening around the neck of her guitar, “there weren’t any notes or papers, we just did it.”
“Don’t be intentionally dense!” Aria snapped, “that was magic, Sonata. That was something much greater and more powerful than any of us can be on our own.”
“But isn’t this kind of the same thing?” the blue girl wondered. “I mean, we don’t need notes on a page to play together…we already know that.”
“Well then why the hell did I go to all the trouble of writing them?” Aria shouted. She had a few more choice words to say, but instead turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen, attempting to end the conversation before she said something she’d regret.
If there was one thing that was difficult to keep in the sirens’ household, it was liquor. Adagio seemed to have some kind of homing device built into her skull that told her precisely where any beverage containing any amount of alcohol was hiding. Aria had tried keeping her stash in her own room for a time, but that had resulted in too many days where she’d never made it out of bed. Eventually, she’d resorted to taping a bottle of whiskey to the underside of the kitchen sink, which she was relieved to discover had remained unmolested.
“Ari, wait,” Sonata said, having followed her from the living room.
“Sonata,” Aria hissed through gritted teeth, hands planted firmly on the counter, “I am trying very, very hard to not completely lose it right now, so you need to give me a minute.” Already she could feel the whiskey dulling the edges of her ire. After the previous evening’s abuse, her stomach did not exactly welcome it, but this was the only surefire way she knew of calming her nerves. A little nausea was an acceptable price to pay for not chewing out her only friend. Her body jerked involuntarily when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“How about,” Sonata began gently, “instead of getting mad or getting drunk, you talk to me.”
“And what’s supposed to happen then?” the elder siren snapped, “are you going to understand me? Am I going to ‘let it all go’ and have a good cry? Do we spend the rest of the day in our pajamas eating ice cream and making trite conjectures about the meaning of life, or watching romantic comedies?”
“Ari,” the blue girl said, brow creased with confusion, “how would any of that be bad?”
“Because that’s not how life works,” Aria replied sharply. “That kind of stuff happens in books and movies.”
“You mean…being happy?”
“Yes.”
“Look,” Sonata said, attempting a different angle, “just tell me what I said that made you mad so I don’t do it again. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
Aria eyed her skeptically, remaining still for a few moments. After a minute, she took another drink and sat down at the small table where they usually dined.
“I guess you just hit a nerve,” she sighed, burying her face in her hands.
“What do you mean?”
“Sonata, I’ve been writing music for so long, I can’t remember doing anything else. I can’t remember liking anything else, and I don’t think I ever did. But you’re right – at the end of the day, it’s all just notes on a page, and who needs that? What purpose does it serve?”
“I thought you said you’ve had stuff in movies and TV though, right?” Sonata offered.
“Yeah,” Aria laughed bitterly, “and it’s good money…we’re both lucky for that, but nobody knows who I am. I don’t get to see people’s reactions to it. I don’t even know if they liked it. All I am to them is a credit or a footnote. I hate this – I hate it so much – but I want to know. I want to know that they liked it, because that’s what makes it worth something.” She felt like she was about to burst with frustration, but she couldn’t stop talking; just the act of speaking seemed to be quieting the restlessness that had been squirming in her chest for far too long. “I’ve always wanted to be known; it’s what brought me into this horrible mess in the first place. I keep telling myself that art should be for art’s sake, but it’s a lie. I’ve watched more generations than I can count pass by, and their lives are so short, but with each one, there are great musicians, ones who shine. They break out and write their own names in the history books, but I never do. It’s a foolish, shallow, trivial thing to want, but I still want it.”
“Wanting to be liked isn’t shallow, Ari,” Sonata said earnestly, taking a seat across from her friend, “it’s what I want, too. Maybe I don’t want it for the same reasons you do, but I still know what you mean.”
We will be adored
Tell us that you want us
Aria exhaled slowly, mopping at the corners of her eyes with a napkin. Despite dredging up all the pesky emotions that had been chewing on the back of her mind for many years now, she didn’t feel as awful as she thought she would. In fact, she felt better. They hadn’t gone away, but it almost felt as though the burden weighed less heavily on her because someone else was helping her carry it now. From an objective standpoint, that notion seemed very wrong to her.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she said tiredly, “none of this is your problem, and you shouldn’t have to feel bad about it. I’m just complaining about my dumb angst.”
“No,” Sonata smiled, shaking her head, “it’s not complaining, it’s sharing.”
“Oh god,” Aria cringed, rolling her eyes, “please stop. You’re gonna make me hurl.”
“Just seeing how far I could take it,” Sonata snickered.
“Yeah? Well that’s far enough.”
-----
“I’ve got an idea,” Sonata said, breaking the silence.
Well, it wasn’t quite silence. The two girls sat on the couch that Adagio normally occupied, and the living room was filled with smacking and crunching as Aria vigorously jammed potato chips into her face. Sonata had convinced her to put the bottle away – at least until evening rolled around – and in her current state of unrest, she’d needed something else comforting to ingest.
“Mmm?” she prompted, stuffing another I-don’t-give-a-fuck-sized handful into her mouth.
“We should perform,” Sonata said simply.
Aria had begun to notice that her friend had a habit of saying the most ridiculous things when she was right in the middle of a large mouthful of something, and so was necessarily becoming increasingly adept at chewing and swallowing very quickly.
“What?” she coughed, slightly out of breath.
“You heard me,” Sonata yawned, leaning back over the arm of the couch and stretching, “we should perform music…you know, for people.”
“Why in the blackest hells of Tartarus would I want to do that?” Aria demanded.
“Didn’t you used to?”
“What are you on about?”
“You know,” the blue girl said, cracking her neck, “when you were young, back in Equestria.”
“How…how do you know about that?” Aria countered incredulously.
“I guess you don’t remember that, huh?” Sonata said thoughtfully. “Back when we first moved into this house, there was this one night where you and Adagio had way too much wine. You guys went upstairs, and then you came back down by yourself looking really angry, but you ended up talking to me for like, a while.”
Aria stared at some point roughly a thousand yards behind Sonata’s head. She was completely still, but her mind was a warzone as she desperately fought to expunge the memories that had suddenly been dragged into it.
“What is your point?” she growled finally, shaking off her thoughts.
“My point is that you’ve got all this music, so you should play it for people,” the younger siren concluded.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because…Sonata…no!”
“Ari,” Sonata half-whispered, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “why not?”
“Because!” Aria agonized, pulling at her own hair and squirming with anxiety, “I just don’t want to.”
“Can’t you try it once?” Sonata wondered. “You spend so much time alone, Ari. You say you want people to like your music, but how will that ever happen if you don’t share it with them? Why do you even care what they think if you can’t stand to be around them?”
“Don’t you dare!” the elder siren fumed with sudden ire, jabbing a finger into her companion’s chest, “don’t you dare twist my words around on me! I will not do it, and that is the end of this discussion!”
“Okay, okay,” Sonata relented, holding up her hands as a gesture of surrender, “I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.” Her tone wasn’t hurt, it was decidedly disappointed.
This only sent Aria’s anger from a simmer to a full on, frothing boil.
“Oh, I intend to,” she said icily, grabbing her chips, making a short detour to the kitchen for her liquor, and heading straight to her room.
“Get fucked, Sonata!” she shouted down the hall before slamming her door.
-----
“You were a pony?” Sonata mused incredulously, stunned by the revelation.
“Indeed,” Aria confirmed, taking another large draught of wine in a desperate bid to forget recent events. She wanted to drink until she forgot Adagio existed at all.
“What kind?” the blue girl asked, her curiosity palpable enough to chew on. “I’m betting you were a unicorn.”
“No,” Aria frowned, shaking her head, “earth pony.”
“Really?” Sonata said with honest surprise, “I never met an earth pony who played music.”
“Yeah,” Aria laughed mirthlessly, “there’s a reason for that.”
“Wasn’t it really hard?” the younger siren asked. It was a dumb question, but it was asked candidly and with rapt attention.
“Yes,” Aria growled, taking another drink. She hated the world even more than usual, as she felt discomfort on every level of her being. Tonight had been a small celebration of sorts. The sirens’ stay at their previous residence had recently become untenable for a variety of reasons, prompting them to flee the city and seek out a new place to live. Just under a month on the road had seen them to this little town, and it had only taken a few days to charm the house’s previous owner out of all his earthly possessions and send him on his way. The prospect of a hearth to sit by and soft beds to sleep in had seemed worthy of a toast, and when Adagio had discovered a rather impressive wine collection in the pantry, all pretenses had been cast into the aether and the girls – with the exception of Sonata – had resolved to get roaring drunk. Unfortunately, their inhibitions had been obliterated a bit too thoroughly.
And so Aria felt uncomfortable in almost every way. She was embarrassed, and hoped that the flush in her cheeks could be passed off as the doing of wine. She was far, far too intoxicated – the world was beginning to dip and spin, and she knew from a great deal of experience that tomorrow would be a very unpleasant affair. She was disoriented – this place that was supposedly now her home was alien, and without her wits about her, she could make no attempt to center herself and adjust. Most of all, she was just irritated. She’d made the drunken mistake of talking to Sonata, and now she was inundated by a barrage of questions.
“What was your family like?” Sonata wondered, interrupting her sister siren’s thoughts.
“Be quiet,” Aria snapped. Undesirable memories were attempting to force themselves into her psyche, so she doused them with more wine.
“Ari,” Sonata whined, an almost desperate edge in her voice, “why can’t you tell me? We’ve been friends for such a long time, but…I hardly know anything about you. What’s the harm in it?”
“We are not friends,” Aria snarled, “and don’t ever call me that.”
Sonata didn’t speak, her shoulders slumping visibly. There was a long silence between them, punctuated only by the ticking of a clock that came from somewhere in the vicinity behind the chair where Aria sat. It grated on her consciousness, and she resolved that when she was sober, she’d find it and break it.
“I didn’t have much of a family,” she blurted, simply to drown out the infernal ticking. “My parents died when I was a filly, and my sister had to find work, so she couldn’t stick around.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sonata said with such sincerity that it was all Aria could do not to squirm.
“My auntie and uncle took me in,” she continued; “they were good people, but they had their own kids to raise, so I couldn’t expect much from them. It was fine, though…it’s not like I ever went hungry. What about you?” The question escaped her lips before she realized what she was doing, and she cursed internally.
“I didn’t have it nearly as bad as you did,” Sonata admitted, “but my family wasn’t very happy either.”
“Why’s that?” Aria asked, once again unconsciously and to her great frustration.
“My parents were unicorns,” the blue girl explained, “and, well…I wasn’t. I was an earth pony like you.”
“That’s unusual,” Aria commented.
“Yeah,” Sonata agreed with a forlorn smile. “They didn’t treat me badly or anything like that, they were really, really nice, and they loved me…but I always knew they were disappointed. My mother, she was an enchanter. She would cast spells on gems and other things to create talismans and charms, and that’s what her father had done, and his father before him, going back for generations. I was her only daughter, so I couldn’t continue the family business because I was born the wrong type of pony.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Aria snapped, her restless mood suddenly feeling as though it could blossom into full-on rage.
“It was nobody…er, nopony’s fault,” Sonata reasoned with a small shrug, “it was just sad that it had to be that way. Still, I learned to sing, and I was pretty good at it. I wanted to show them that I could still do something worthwhile…that’s why…well, you know the rest.”
“Yeah,” Aria croaked bitterly. She’d really thought that there was no way she could hate Adagio more than she had a few moments ago, but as another wave of realization dawned on her hazy mind, she realized she’d been wrong. Adagio was – in every sense – a predator. She hadn’t just picked them because they might be useful, she picked them because they were easy – two neglected, disheartened souls who’d been almost effortlessly lured by promises of love and attention. Aria suddenly felt a strange sense of kinship with Sonata – they’d both fallen into the exact same trap, and had paid the exact same price.
“I miss them,” the youngest siren said regretfully, “I never really said goodbye.”
“Neither did I,” Aria sighed, a profound sense of loss suddenly threatening to overwhelm her. She’d said it herself: her aunt and uncle couldn’t give her everything she’d wanted – they had mouths to feed, and she was lucky they’d been able to take her in at all – but they were good people – or ponies, rather – and she’d left them without so much as a note. She forcibly shut the thought in the stone box in the back of her mind where she kept all emotions except anger and contempt. The stone rattled, but didn’t crack, and when she took another drink, it quieted.
“I guess we both traded our weird families for a new one,” Sonata chuckled.
A bark of laughter, harsh and shrill, involuntarily escaped Aria’s throat.
“This is not a family, Sonata,” she hissed, gesturing around herself, “this is an arrangement if I’m feeling charitable, and if I’m not, I usually go with something more along the lines of hell. The only reason I’m not a thousand miles away from her is this.” She clutched the blood-red gem that hung around her neck for emphasis.
“You know what they say,” Sonata smiled, undaunted; “you can’t choose your family.”
“But Adagio did choose us,” Aria countered, “very deliberately. We were foolish enough to accept her offer. We’re not a family; we’re a bad idea carried to its worst logical conclusion.”
“But,” Sonata began serenely, holding up a finger, “that all changed when we got banished to this place, don’t you think? We’re the only Equestrians here, so we have to stick together, right? We aren’t blood, but we’re more related to each other than we are to any of these people,” she waved her hand to indicate the general populace of their current dimension of residence, “so, to me, it’s almost like we’re sisters.”
“Yeah?” Aria scoffed – she did not want to think of herself as related to Adagio for a plethora of reasons that started a few hours prior, and stretched a thousand years into the past – “then this really is hell.”
Without another word, she rose from her seat, staggering with as much dignity as she could manage toward the room she’d claimed as her own, leaving Sonata alone once more.
-----
There are relatively few souls privy to the special kind of sick, hellish confusion one feels when waking up drunk – not with a hangover, but still very much drunk. The small bout of amnesia one experiences when roused from slumber is multiplied to the point that remembering who, where, and even when one is can become a vain effort.
She was Aria; she knew that much…but which Aria? There had been many. She had to do something; she knew that too…but what was it, and why was it so terrifyingly urgent? She didn’t have much time to consider it, as her stomach began to heave and her mouth watered. She rolled off the frameless mattress and fought to stand, stumbling out the door of her room. Her shoulder crashed painfully against the wall as she battled her uncooperative body over the short distance to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Reaching her destination just in time, she retched, exorcising what little poison hadn’t already made its way into her bloodstream. A short, ragged breath was all she had time for before she heaved again, expelling the last of her stomach contents and sending her into a violent coughing fit.
The cool tile floor was welcoming when she slumped down upon it. The cold soothed her throbbing skull and the burning in her cheeks. She clutched her stomach, which now felt very empty – not in the sense that she was hungry, it was just a cavernous space in her gut. Besides a little injury to her pride, she had no qualms about spending the rest of the day here, and closed her eyes.
Sonata
Aria’s eyes snapped open, their nebulous focus sharpening. The last time she’d lost her temper like that, Sonata had nearly left. It was true they’d come to a bit more of an understanding over the past few days, but what if it wasn’t enough? For all Aria knew, she might already be gone.
When Aria stood – with much difficulty – her eyes rolled into the back of her head, desperately trying to escape the light and the nauseating dizziness. As she staggered down the hall, she realized that the dull light of an overcast sky was still streaming through the windows; it couldn’t’ve been later than three or four in the afternoon, which made her realize just how squarely in the middle of that stage of drunkenness that one normally slept off she was.
Squinting, she panned her gaze around the living room, and what she could see of the kitchen, but even in the blinding daylight she could tell there was nobody there; the entire ground floor was silent and deserted. This left only two possibilities: either Sonata was upstairs in her room, or she’d gone out, possibly permanently. If the latter was true, there was nothing Aria could do. By the time she sobered up enough to pursue, her friend would be long gone, and – barring a note or fortuitous clue – she would have no idea where. In her current state, she could only operate on the assumption that Sonata was upstairs, in which case her most logical course of action would be to go back to sleep until such a time as she was fit to traverse said stairs.
The only problem was, she couldn’t seem to do that…or at least she didn’t want to. When Aria attempted to shift her mental gears and focus on returning to her room, she felt an ache. She felt bad, and in a way that was far and away much more unsettling than the obvious physical anguish that she was currently experiencing. She recognized it, because she’d felt it the previous morning on the porch. She’d snapped at Sonata and felt this feeling. Now it was a thousand times more intense.
Aria looked toward the staircase, wincing and leaning against the wall as the act of turning her head brought on a fresh wave of illness and made the world jerk and spin. This was not going to be pleasant. The rational part of her mind reasoned that the only way she was going to make it up there unbruised would be to crawl, but the much larger, louder part of her mind that housed her pride asserted that that was simply not an option.
Steeling herself, she shuffled toward the stairs, nearly falling forward but catching the railing at the last moment and remaining upright. Her head swam with vertigo as she took the first step, the fact that her stomach had already been emptied being the only assurance that she wouldn’t vomit. With as much caution as she could manage through the murky visual blur and slight euphoria, she attempted to establish a rhythm, putting one foot in front of the other and slowly ascending. It worked five times – nearly enough to bring her to the landing – before she stumbled. Her left hand clamped on the railing while the other attempted to break her fall, but she still slammed heavily into the unforgiving hardwood edges. Her feet completely abandoned her, turning skyward, and her forehead and chest took the brunt of the impact. She slid back down a few steps before she twisted her body and caught herself, settling into a seated position on the stairs and clutching at her hurts.
Aria had experienced many worse pains, but their memories didn’t dull the ones she was currently feeling. Her head felt rattled and her breast ached, and as pathetic as it was, she felt like crying; her mind was muddled and her thoughts chaotic, her body was achy and uncooperative, but worst of all she felt that sensation of bad, and it made all the other hurts so much worse. She folded in on herself, resting her head on her knees and wrapping her arms around them. She knew she should get up and try again – she had to know if Sonata had left her or not, and if she made it up the stairs she would at least know, regardless of whether she liked the answer or not.
But she was tired, and she wanted to go to sleep. She wanted to escape. Over the past few days, she’d felt more new emotions than she had in as many centuries, and in her weakened state, it was suddenly overwhelming. She just wanted it all to go away, and she slumped against the wall, eyes closing. This, she decided, was a beautifully and suitably anticlimactic reason for Aria Blaze to finally give up – not a phenomenally powerful unicorn wizard, not a freezing new world, and not a hungry killer, but a one-story staircase and too much whiskey. It was perfect, and she managed a small smile in spite of the tears that were now rolling down her cheeks.
“Ari?” a concerned voice called from above her. She looked up to see Sonata peering down over the banister.
Aria said nothing, keeping her gaze cast down so that the other girl would not see her eyes.
“Did you fall down the stairs?” Sonata asked anxiously, leaning so far over the railing that her long ponytail dangled just a few feet above Aria’s head.
“Yeah,” Aria croaked without any sarcasm. She felt profoundly stupid as she sniffled and tried to dry her eyes with the collar of her shirt.
“Are you okay?” Sonata fretted, rushing down to comfort her.
“No,” she choked, not daring to shake her pounding head even slightly.
“Are you hurt?” the blue girl asked, sitting down next to her.
Aria nodded gently, knowing that if she spoke any more she would slur like an idiot, cry, or more likely both. She felt Sonata’s arms wrap around her and give her a gentle squeeze.
“What were you even trying to get up there for?” Sonata asked with an edge of sternness to her voice which made it plain she could smell the reek of booze that permeated her friend.
Aria attempted to explain herself, but the words kept dying on her lips.
I was afraid you were going to leave.
Her addled mind was able to put the sentence together, but every time she tried to actually say it, she stammered and slurred. That one normally authoritative corner of her psyche tried to get angry about it, but she was numb, and the effort was met by complete and utter apathy from both her body and mind.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally, voice cracking with the effort.
“It’s okay,” Sonata replied, squeezing her shoulders again, “let’s just get you back to bed.”
“I can’t move,” Aria groaned, fighting with her own tongue to form each syllable. She felt two arms hook under her own and slowly raise her to her feet. The world swam and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. One arm found the wall and she steadied herself; the other wrapped over her sister siren’s shoulders.
“Just lean on me,” Sonata said simply. “I won’t let you fall.”
-----
Sunset Shimmer lived alone. During her tenure at Canterlot High, she’d done her best to conceal this fact; it was a bit suspicious for an ostensibly teenaged girl, and she had no interest in anyone but her closest friends suspecting what she actually was. Then again, turning into a flaming succubus and attempting to mentally enslave the entire student body may have compromised her secret somewhat.
Creating an identity for herself in this world had been no easy task, and it was only through some very well-thought-out trickery in the form correspondence and document forging that she’d been able to acquire a social security number. Compared to all that, her current living situation had been an easy thing to arrange.
On her first trip through the Mirror, she’d stuffed her saddlebags with as many bits and gems as she could fit, hoping they’d have some value in this world – she’d reasoned that at the very least the raw materials might net her some capital. What she hadn’t anticipated was just how right she’d been.
Gold and jewels were ubiquitous in Equestria to the point that they formed the basis of the kingdom’s currency. This world was an entirely different story. Suffice it to say she’d had no difficulty in purchasing her home outright, with enough left over that she wouldn’t have to worry about money for a very long time, if ever. So Sunset lived alone in a lovely but rather empty house that sat on the very outskirts of town.
But she was never lonely.
“Watcha makin’? Is it cake?” Pinkie asked, jumping up and down excitedly. The entire image shook and then tumbled, giving Sunset a view of a floor of low-pile carpet that was a decidedly ugly shade of green.
“Pinkie, cut it out!” a raspy voice – distant and tinny – shouted. Sunset paused in her work and watched with amusement and a slight sense of vertigo as the view on her screen whipped wildly about and righted itself, pointing directly into a set of very tired-looking magenta eyes, framed by disheveled rainbow locks.
“Hey, Dash,” she chuckled, turning the stove down and stirring the contents of the pan that sat atop it, “good to see you. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Rainbow Dash apologized with a grimace, “things have been crazy around here, as in literally, completely f– Pinkie stop jumping! If we get another noise complaint, they’re gonna toss us out on the street!”
“I can’t help it!” Pinkie shouted gleefully in the background, “I’m caffeinated!”
“She took all the quarters we had for laundry this month and emptied the vending machine,” Dash moaned, eyes bulging as she stared into the camera. “You gotta help me, Sunset,” she breathed desperately, “I can’t take another seven months of this. This place is like a tin can, we’re packed in like sardines, and instead of olive oil it’s full of crazy!”
“I’d rather be packed in a tin can with you guys than cooking breakfast by myself on a Friday night,” Sunset smiled, reaching for a pair of tongs and lifting a few pieces of freshly-crisped bacon from the skillet that sizzled on the backburner.
“B-Breakfast?” Dash stammered forlornly.
“Yeah,” Sunset said, scratching her chin, “I got up really late today, so I thought, hey – how about breakfast for dinner.”
“What are you h-having?”
“Just bacon, eggs, and maybe some waffles if I’m not too lazy.”
When she looked back at the screen, Dash actually looked like she was going to cry.
“Can I just drop out and come live with you?” Rainbow begged, “I can’t even remember the last time I ate something that didn’t come from a can.”
“What about the donuts?” Pinkie prompted, popping into the top of the frame without warning and disappearing just as quickly.
“Oh, right,” Dash rolled her eyes, “there’s donuts. We’re not even allowed to have a toaster because it’s a ‘fire hazard,’ but somehow Pinkie got a deep fryer in here.”
“Dash, I don’t think your parents would see breakfast as a legitimate reason for giving up your scholarship. Just stick it out for a few more weeks,” Sunset encouraged. “When you guys come home for break, you can all stay the night, and I’ll make you whatever you want.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Dash said severely, her brow furrowing as she jabbed a finger toward the camera. “Anyway,” she continued, her mood lifted considerably, “have you heard from Rarity lately? I’ve been texting her, but every time I try to actually talk to her, we end up playing telephone tag.”
“I caught her for like, five minutes on Wednesday,” Sunset said, shaking her head, “she’s crazy busy, but she said she’d have some free time this weekend, and I know Fluttershy’s gonna be free as well. I was thinking we could all get on a call.”
“Sounds good,” Rainbow nodded, “I’ll try to get all this stupid homework done ASAP. I’ve got soccer tryouts tomorrow, but on Sunday we can all hang out. I’ve got a wicked new idea for a song, and I need my rhythm guitarist and pianist to give me some advice on it.”
“What about your bassist?”
“What kind of amateur do you think I am?” Dash demanded, “me and AJ already have that all worked out.”
“Just checking,” Sunset grinned.
“So,” Rainbow began after a short pause, “heard anything from the Princess?”
“Oh man,” Sunset snickered, “you won’t believe wh–”
She was interrupted by a rapid, forceful rapping coming from the front of the house.
“One sec,” she said, turning off the stove, “someone’s at the door.”
When Sunset drifted back into view, there was an unexpected and troubling hardness in her features.
“Dash, I have to go,” she said curtly, “I’ll call you back.”
She didn’t give Rainbow a chance to protest, shutting off the webcam and closing her laptop. Her eyes scanned the room until she found it – the black leather jacket that was draped over the back of a chair. Donning it with no small amount of ceremony, Sunset returned to the front door, peering through the peephole one more time to confirm what she’d seen. Taking a deep breath, she opened it.
“Hi,” Adagio said with a melodious voice and a saccharine smile, her head tilted with exaggerated geniality and her hands clasped by her chest, “how are you?”
Sunset simply raised an eyebrow.
“Oh come now,” Adagio intoned with plastic dejection, placing one hand on her waist and waving the other with lazy panache, “don’t you remember me, Sunset Shimmer?”
“You know I do,” Sunset retorted icily.
“Could’ve fooled me,” the siren pouted, “you don’t look happy to see me.”
“I’m not.”
“Well, you don’t even look surprised…”
“I’m not. The only thing that surprises me is that you didn’t show up sooner.”
“Well,” Adagio grinned, clapping her hands together, “I’ll admit I’ve been a bit…indisposed for the past few months, but now that I have, why don’t we catch up a bit?” With flamboyant authority, she strode into the house, giving its owner a pat on the shoulder that contained the barest hint of a shove. “Oh my,” she said sweetly, “whatever you’re making just smells delicious; it’s like you knew I was coming to see you!”
“Why are you here?” Sunset growled, feeling no small amount of irritation at this flippant violation of her personal sanctum.
“Whatever do you mean, my child?” Adagio queried innocently, “I only wanted to see how the lovely young lady who ruined my life was doing for herself. Is that unreasonable?”
“I’m not about to believe it took you half a year to decide you wanted to barge into my home and take passive-aggressive jabs at me,” Sunset said, crossing her arms, “so just tell me what the deal is.”
“I’m so sorry it took me this long to pay you a visit,” the siren apologized, “but as I said, I’ve been a bit down of late…that is until I had a thought the other night.”
“You see,” Adagio began, stepping behind the kitchen counter and nonchalantly snapping up the bottle of red wine that sat at its edge, “I got to thinking about you, and I wondered: why would that smart, ambitious girl Sunset Shimmer try and kick off her plot for revenge in this silly little town? I mean, I’ve been around this world more than once, and if I were trying to raise an army to march on Equestria…well, I can’t exactly say I’d choose this place as my starting point.” She rummaged through the cupboards while she spoke, eventually finding a suitable glass and filling it nearly to the brim. “Then I thought about something else,” the orange-haired girl continued, twirling one of her ample locks as she took a sip, “specifically your friend, Twilight Sparkle. I’ve been around here for quite a while, Sunset, and I’ve never seen hide nor hair of her. I’ve never even heard of her. I mean, how could such a spirited, charismatic and – dare I say – powerful person just materialize out of thin air like that?”
“Get to the point,” Sunset commanded.
“It’s here, isn’t it?” Adagio snarled, dropping her wineglass and all pretenses, the question punctuated by the sound of lead crystal shattering on tile, “the gateway back home.” Her gloved hands gripped the edges of the counter and her eyes narrowed. “All this time it’s been right under my nose, and you know where it is, don’t you?”
“Even if I did, why would I tell you anything about it?” Celestia’s former student wondered casually, examining her fingernails.
“I don’t know,” the siren admitted, stalking around the countertop to face her adversary unobstructed, “I really don’t know. But I do know some things,” she continued thoughtfully, “things about your friends; specifically, I know that most of them are just a few days’ trip from here. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, Sunset Shimmer, then one of them w–”
Adagio Dazzle, the world’s oldest being, was suddenly silenced. All the air was stolen from her lungs as she was lifted by the collar of her shirt and slammed into the nearby wall. A pair of pale, bluish-green eyes stared defiantly into her own.
“You’d better remember who you’re talking to,” Sunset hissed, holding the siren a good few inches off the ground. “I’ve changed, but I have not forgotten. If you threaten my friends, you’ll see just how fast I can go back to being exactly like you.”
“Now, now,” Adagio tutted, regaining her composure and shoving the other girl off of her, “violence is not our way, is it?”
“Speak for yourself,” Sunset countered. “Ever wonder why that front entrance at CHS looks so new?”
“I actually heard about that little stunt,” Adagio grinned, tucking a few upset curls behind her ear, “quite the intimidation tactic…I wish I’d been there to see them cower.”
“Listen,” Sunset began, her tone softening, “you need to stop this, now. I know what you’re going to try to do, and it’s not going to work out for you. It never works out for anyone.”
“You really must stop projecting your own inadequacies onto others,” Adagio admonished lazily; “your failure does not guarantee mine.”
“True,” Sunset conceded with a nod, “but yours does. You already took on Twilight Sparkle with ancient magic on your own turf, and you got rainbow-nuked just as hard as I did. What do you think’s gonna happen if you try to bring the fight to her with nothing but your own two hooves?”
“It all makes sense now,” the siren sneered, a derisive smirk twisting her elegant features. “You didn’t have a ‘change of heart’, did you Sunset Shimmer? You just realized you couldn’t win and you took the easy way out. ‘If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,’ as the old adage goes.”
“No, I never had a change of heart,” Sunset admitted, her confrontational posture folding ever-so-slightly, “because I never believed what I was doing was right in the first place.” She looked back up, peering into the other girl’s eyes with a searching gaze. “I don’t think you do either.”
“Oh, look at that,” Adagio tittered, patting her on the shoulder, “it’s so cute how you think you know something about me. Well, you don’t,” she spat suddenly, prodding Sunset in the chest with a finger, which was smacked away quickly. “Look,” the siren laughed, “all this petty bickering is getting us nowhere, so let me tell you exactly why I came here.” She sat down on the nearby couch, crossing her legs primly. Sunset cautiously took the chair across from her. “You know where the gateway is,” Adagio stated as though it were an obvious and absolute fact, “and – more importantly – you know how to open it…or at least you have the ability to contact someone who does.”
“You’re assuming a lot, don’t you think?” Sunset countered.
“No, I don’t,” the siren replied. “Now, one way or another, I am going to find out where it is, and I am going to find out how it works; these are givens. So, I have a proposition for you: tell me what you know, help me get back home, and in return, I will help you get your revenge on Twilight Sparkle.”
“W-What?” Sunset laughed. Adagio frowned and crossed her arms. “That’s your offer?” she continued with genuine amusement, “well, I’m gonna go with no. I don’t want revenge on Twilight Sparkle; she’s one of my best friends.”
“Drop the act,” Adagio shouted, slamming her hands onto the coffee table that stood between them. “Why do you pretend when I – more than any other creature on this wretched planet – know exactly how you feel? She took everything from you, and then you turned around and helped her do it to me! What is your angle here? What is your plan?”
“I don’t have one,” Sunset shrugged.
“Lies!” the siren shrieked, pointing a damning finger. “You were robbed of everything you loved, just like I was. You were humiliated, just like I was. I know how it feels, and that feeling does not just evaporate; it builds, and it grows, and it tortures you, but it makes you strong. It makes you do things you never thought you could do. It becomes you. You cannot just walk away from it.”
“I used to think that, too,” Sunset Shimmer said, her brow creasing as she stared into the other girl’s eyes, “but I found something better, and I let it go. Please, just stop this. I promise, when you stop living for your own bitterness, the whole world suddenly opens up, and it’s so much better than revenge or power could ever be. Just give it a chance, and I can help you. I can show you.”
“They truly did break you, then,” Adagio breathed, a hint of both awe and fear in her voice. “Is this really how it ends for the great Sunset Shimmer? Beaten into submission, a willing and grateful slave to those who struck her down? I truly pity you.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” Sunset retorted with a sigh. “Now,” she continued, her face hardening as she stood, “I think it’s time for you to get the hell out of my house.”
-----
“How ya doin’?” Sonata asked gently.
Aria groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the mattress.
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a train,” she mumbled, head throbbing with every syllable, “sans the privilege of being dead.” A few hours of unconsciousness had restored her to coherence, but it came at the price of a miserable hangover, with the added bonus of being able to fully feel the bruising on her chest and ribs, as well as the lump that had formed on her forehead.
“Well, I brought you an ice pack and some tea,” Sonata said cheerily.
“What?” Aria barked, whipping her head up to glare at her friend. A moment later she regretted it, feeling dizzy and nauseous.
“Just kidding,” the blue girl snickered, “it’s coffee.”
Aria flopped back down on the mattress, something which she also quickly regretted doing.
“I’ll just take some cyanide and a shotgun blast to the face, if you don’t mind,” she moaned.
“What were you even doing earlier?” Sonata queried, sitting down on the bed, “you, alcohol, and stairs don’t mix; we’ve learned that at pretty much every hotel we’ve ever stayed in.”
“What am I supposed to do, take the elevator?” Aria demanded. “I don’t trust those things. And anyway, just forget about it, I was being stupid.”
“Why were you crying?” the younger siren wondered.
“Because I fell over and it fucking hurt!” Aria snapped.
“Ari, c’mon,” Sonata said in a sing-song voice, “don’t bottle it up.” She prodded her friend in the shoulder a few times.
“So, what, I don’t get to have private emotions now?” the elder siren growled.
“Nope,” Sonata beamed, shaking her head.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Aria lamented, thumping her fist on the mattress.
“What?” the blue girl asked, “caring about you?”
“Yes,” Aria grimaced, “please stop.”
“I already know you don’t mean that,” Sonata countered with a knowing smile.
“Look,” Aria sighed, “I was afraid I hurt your feelings again and you’d bailed on me.”
“Maybe a little,” Sonata admitted, “but I’m not gonna ditch you over something dumb like that.”
“I thought about something,” Aria said, taking a sip of her coffee and steering the conversation away from impending sentimentality, “what you said…you know, about performing.”
“Yeah?” Sonata grinned, clasping her hands anxiously.
Aria paused for a moment and took another sip, her exhausted mind attempting to consider the ramifications of her next words. That didn’t work particularly well, so she decided to let the chips fall where they may, and spoke:
“I’m in.”