• Published 1st Nov 2014
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A New Sun Rises - CommissarAJ



Sunset Shimmer has never needed anyone or anything - she had her magic, she had her ambition, and she had intellect. Others just stood in her way or held her down. So what do you do when your plans for world domination fall through?

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Act IV-IV

Hard as it may be for some to believe, there was a time when I was not some power-hungry misanthrope, or a manipulative schemer. There was a time when the sweet and innocent person that others saw was not a carefully constructed facade. I used to look back on those years and scoff at my childish naivety and complacency, but in retrospect I think I only convinced myself of that so I wouldn’t realize what a mistake it was to leave Equestria. I was young, vibrant, and so full of curiosity. There were no aspirations of being the best, no vendettas against my superior, or rampant paranoia; just a filly who leapt out of bed every morning at the prospect of learning magic from the greatest pony in the whole kingdom.

And like every child, I loved my birthdays. My parents weren’t the most affectionate of ponies, but hosting a birthday party once a year allowed them to give the impression that they cared. It may have not been a suitable replacement, but when you’re a child it’s hard not to love a room filled with balloons, cake, and all of your friends. It’s also a good way to develop a childhood fear of clowns, but that’s another story altogether.

While I could be justified in citing my parents as the root cause of a number of my personal failings, my guilt over birthdays was a demon of my own creation. It all began with my first birthday while under Princess Celestia’s tutelage, which was roughly six months into my studies. Most fillies would have been ecstatic at the idea, but I felt differently that morning.

“Good heavens, Miss Shimmer, are you still in bed?”

Kibitz was Princess Celestia’s Royal Schedule Advisor, which typically didn’t involve me except when my tardiness interfered with Her Majesty’s schedule. I answered with but a quiet murmur, followed by pulling all of the blankets over my head in order to cocoon myself in my bed. Unfortunately for me, a stubborn and petulant child was, by far, the least troubling obstacle that Kibitz has had to endure in his duties. The seasoned unicorn simply trotted over to the window and drew open the curtains, bathing my bedroom in the near-blinding daylight.

“Come on, the day doesn’t last forever and Her Majesty is expecting you for your mid-morning lessons,” Kibitz announced. “And you’ll be happy to hear that I’ve managed to re-organize the afternoon schedule and got you an extra twelve minutes and forty-five seconds for your lessons.”

“Okay Mr. Kibitz,” I groaned back. As I wormed my way across the bed, my progress was impeded as Kibitz’s magic grasped at my blanket cocoon.

“Sunset, is there something troubling you?” he asked, now sounding less like the stuffy time-keeper that he often was. “Normally you’re bursting out of bed at daybreak, and your reaction to the news of additional time was tepid, at best.”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine, really.”

“Don’t try to obfuscate the truth from me, miss, I can sniff them out from a hundred yards,” Kibitz warned me. He proceeded to unravel me from my blankets and then set me down on the floor. “Now Princess Celestia would be dismayed to see her prized student arriving in such a dismal mood, especially on a splendid day like today. I think both you and I would hate to disappoint the Princess, so why don’t you explain to me what seems to be the trouble, and we can see if there’s something we can do to nip it in the bud, eh?”

Even though it had only been a year, my time spent at the Royal Palace felt like my greatest dreams coming true. As such, I felt very shy about saying anything negative about my experiences, out of respect for my hosts and fear that I would be seen as ungrateful. However, I was equally afraid of disappointing my mentor, so after some nervous shuffling and staring a hole through the floor, I gave him my answer.

“Well, Mr. Kibitz, it’s, um… you see, it’s my birthday today.”

“Then it does me great honour to be the first to wish you a happy birthday, Sunset. However, that still does not explain why you are so sullen this morning? Are you not happy for your birthday?”

“Except I don’t really have any friends here to celebrate it with,” I explained. “All my friends are back home.”

“I see, now it all makes sense,” Kibitz replied as he stroked at his beard. “A birthday is hardly a festive occasion if nopony is there to celebrate it with you. Have you spoken to Princess Celestia about this?”

I shook my head, feeling sheepish and embarrassed. “I didn’t want to bother her with it.”

She was the Princess, after all, responsible for looking after an entire kingdom. I was still young and impressionable so I had this foolish notion that my purpose at the castle was to study and nothing more. To distract the Princess with trivialities such as birthdays was tantamount of blasphemy. Why, she might have even banished me to the moon for such a selfish request. I was too young to even risk going to the moon.

Kibitz would have none of my shenanigans, however. “I promise you, it shan’t be any bother to her,” he insisted as his magic began gathering up all of my books and scrolls. “To be honest, I’m surprised that you’ve been here for almost half-a-year now and have yet to make any real friends.”

“I don’t need anypony to be my friend,” I admitted, trying to sound more proud than upset by the fact. I probably would’ve had better luck convincing Kibitz that I was a reborn Princess Luna. When he gave me a demanding and skeptical glare, I soon folded. “They laughed at me; they said my mane looked dumb,” I whimpered.

In retrospect, personal grooming was not high on the list of priorities for a bookworm filly who considered debating the merits of Winkel-Tripel versus Hobo-Dyer to be an excellent use of an afternoon. Kibitz just looked at the flat, bowl-cut mess that was my mane, hefting the ponytail portion at the back while examining it with his detail-minded gaze.

“Perhaps we should schedule you some time with the royal mane stylist the next time the Princess has an appointment,” he suggested.

“Well, I don’t know,” I replied with a hint of reluctance and skepticism. “I kind of like the way my mane is now. It’s practical; keeps it from getting in the way of my view.” In retrospect, I was more adverse to the change rather than any actual attachment to my current style. At the same time, though, I was being given an opportunity to partake in something that few ponies could: getting my mane done by the same pony that did the Princess’. There were probably a million and one fillies who’d trample me underhoof for such a chance. “I suppose I could give it a try, though.”

“That’s the spirit!” Kibitz congratulated me with a playful punch on the shoulder. He then set my loaded saddlebags upon my back and ushered me along. “Now let us be on our way; we can’t keep the Princess waiting forever.”

As I was still feeling melancholy over my birthday situation, I spent most of our walk through the castle hallways reminding myself that learning about magic was my mission here and that I shouldn’t be slighting my gracious hosts with complaints about little things like birthdays. In hindsight, that line of thought was definitely my father’s influence. I became so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice that Kibitz wasn’t leading me to the study hall where my lessons were usually held. In fact, it wasn’t until Kibitz swung open the grand hall’s doors that I realized something was amiss.

The sight I was greeted to left me speechless, staring in awe-struck wonder with my jaw hanging open like a newborn filly’s first birthday party. Before that day, I thought I had been to a birthday party, or at least had known what one looked like, but what I saw before me sure blew all of those preconceptions out of the water: the entire hall was adorned in bright balloons and colourful banners from one end to the other; there were petting zoos and games and ponies doing balloon animals and face-painting; and smack in the center of the hall was the biggest cake I had ever laid eyes upon.

My brain didn’t overcome the initial shock until Kibitz reached over and closed my mouth for me.

“I… what?” I stammered in disbelief. I turned to the aged stallion, grinning as the realization dawned upon me. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”

“I would be a poor excuse of a Royal Schedule Advisor if I missed an important date like today, now wouldn’t I?” he replied. He lifted off my saddlebags and gave me a gentle nudge forward. “Princess Celestia will be along shortly to join in the celebrations. Why don’t you run off and have yourself some fun, hm? And not to sound like the Princess, but do try to make some friends.”

“Thanks! And I will!” I exclaimed as I galloped off, fueled by juvenile exuberance.

Like any child, I rushed ahead with reckless abandon, soon finding myself surrounded by ponies I didn’t recognize. I didn’t care, though, and raced over to the closest snack table that I could find. How often did a filly get to eat cupcakes and cookies for breakfast, after all? When I got to the table, though, I discovered that the sweet treats were, in fact, sandwiches and crackers adorned with fancy spreads and smelly cheeses. Not a serious issue, in retrospect, but for a young filly it was a bit of a disappointment. Those ‘grown-up foods’ just made me wrinkle my nose as the pungent odours overwhelmed me.

“Excuse me, miss,” a stuffy-shirt voice spoke up behind me. I looked behind me and saw a primped-up unicorn not much older than myself. His excessively-groomed decorum looked familiar—one of Celestia’s distant relatives if memory served. “You’re blocking the way to the hors d’oeuvres.”

“Sorry!” Given that he looked important, or at least self-assured enough, I stepped aside in a prompt fashion. “Um, are there any other snacks?” I asked.

It took the other pony a moment to realize that I was addressing him, and after it became apparent, he regarded me with a stare that felt like it was sucking all the self-esteem out of me. He even decided that finishing the cheese cracker he stuffed into his mouth was more important than answering one simple question.

“Other snacks?”

“Yeah, like maybe something sweet.” I tried to hide my growing nervousness behind a polite smile, but that just made him roll his eyes.

“There’s the cake in the center,” he finally answered.

“What about something smaller? Maybe some cupcakes?” Not that the giant cake didn’t look tempting, but the birthday cake was always reserved for the climax of the party, not the start, so I didn’t want to go straight for it.

“Cupcakes?” he scoffed back. “This is the Royal Palace. Just what sort of party do you think this is?”

“O-oh, I—um, I just thought—”

He didn’t wait for me to finish and instead turned his attention back to gathering more snacks for himself. “Why don’t you go find one of the entertainers and play with the other fillies?” he suggested before trotting off.

“O-okay,” I quickly nodded. I felt foolish enough so I decided not to draw more attention to my apparent social faux pas by disagreeing. “Th-thanks. Um, my name is Sunset Shimmer, by the way.”

There was no answer, however, as he had already walked several feet away, which may as well have been the far side of Equestria for all it mattered to him. Despite this little hiccup, I reminded myself that stuck-up ponies were a bit a dozen in Canterlot, and I shouldn’t let one pony ruin the mood. Besides, my naive mind rationalized that perhaps parties in Canterlot were just done differently than they had been back home. Kibitz did fuss about excessive sweets, after all, so perhaps it was a regional thing.

I decided to grab one of the hors d’oeuvre just to get a taste of how Canterlot ponies did parties.

It was the first of many decisions I would come to regret in life.

After depositing what remained of my snack into the nearest potted plant, I decided to investigate what else the party had to offer. I wandered around the perimeter to start with, seeing what some of the other ponies were doing for fun. A lot of the grown-ups appeared to be more interesting in just talking amongst one another, something the adults in Canterlot seemed to love more than their own reflection.

The few colts and fillies my age were congregated around the various entertainers. That was when I saw one pony who was making balloon animals for some of the kids. Balloon animals! One of those would be guaranteed to bring a smile back to my face. As I raced towards him, all the possibilities began to rush through my mind—perhaps I would ask for a balloon-poodle. Or maybe a balloon-tiger. No, wait! A balloon-dragon! Nothing in all the realms of Equestria was better than an expertly-crafted dragon, brought to life by the finest balloon-magic in the kingdom.

Excitement continued to grow as I drew closer, compelling me into a near full-blown sprint. But that excitement soon turned into dismay when the balloon-wielding pony turned to face me. That’s when I sat it: the white face paint, the oversized shoes, the giant bulging eyes, the bright red rubber nose.

“C-c-c-clown!” I blurted out, skidding it a halt just feet away from him.

Clowns—why did it have to be a clown? What sort of syphilitic mind could invent such a terrifying abomination of an equine? I stood in the grand hall, frozen in fear as my gaze fixated on his horrid, bulbous visage. He flashed a cheerful grin at me, but a grinning dragon would have had better luck in availing my anxieties.

Naturally, I did what any child would do when confronted by one of their greatest fears: I turned and ran, screaming at the top of my lungs.

It was a good thing that nobody at Canterlot High ever discovered my childhood fear; otherwise, my reign of terror would’ve been very short-lived.

I sought refuge beneath one of the dining tables, using the silken tablecloth for concealment while I waited for the clown to move on to another filly. In retrospect, he probably forgot about me the moment I was out of sight, but at the time I was convinced clowns were the natural predator of innocent little fillies, thus necessitating a cautious approach.

Unfortunately, before I could venture out, one of the clowns started doing a bunch of party tricks right next to the table. The phobia left me paralyzed under the table, unable to even dare to move lest I be spotted by the red-nosed menace. This left me trapped under the relative safety of the table for Celestia-knows how many minutes. I lost track of time as I was more fixated on the horrible fates that could befall me if I were to be discovered.

What I would’ve given for Celestia to swoop in and save me right then and there.

Salvation did come, eventually, but in an unexpected way. A young unicorn poked her head in under the table cloth and gave me a quizzical stare. “What are you doing under here?” she asked, sounding almost amused by my hiding spot.

“What? Oh! I’m, um… n-nothing!” I stammered back, once again feeling sheepish and anxious as I fumbled my answer.

“Well if you keep hiding under here, you’re going to miss out on the cake,” the filly informed before disappearing behind the tablecloth again.

“Cake!” I yelped as I sprang to my hooves. The fear of losing out on cake was far more motivating than any fear of clowns. However, as I raced out from under the table, my horn snagged on the tablecloth. I pulled the entirety of the table’s contents with me, creating a huge, clattering disaster behind me. As a growing number of disapproving eyes were levied against me, I could only manage an embarrassed grin and a half-hearted, “Oopsies.”

Unfortunately, the adults around me were not content to just let this issue slide. As I untangled myself from the tablecloth, one pompous-looking mare approached me.

“Excuse me, but where do you think you’re heading off to?” she asked, though even the young me could recognize that her tone meant she wasn’t actually interested in my answer. It was the typical parental ‘I don’t like what I’ve caught you doing’ tone.

Even though I didn’t know who this pony was, she was intimidating nonetheless with a scornful gaze and enough jewelry to make anyone think she’s somebody important.

“I-I was just going to get some cake,” I explained.

“After leaving behind that disaster?” she answered, pointing at all of the spilled appetizers and glasses that my haphazard exit left behind. “Now I don’t know what kind of household you’ve lived in, but one does not just make such a mess and do nothing about it! It’s incredibly disrespectful to the other guests and especially to our most gracious hostess.”

Whoever this mare was, she knew how to layer on the guilt like peanut butter. She prattled on for a few minutes, explaining the depravity of my inconsiderate behaviour and how it was ruining the enjoyment for those around me, and how selfish it was for me to think that I could cause such trouble without taking any responsibility. She wasn’t wrong with what she said, but she wasn’t pulling any punches despite dealing with but a child. I tried not to let her words affect me too much, but it was hard for a child not to feel disheartened when somebody was scolding you as though you were the worst pony in the whole world.

“—I should drag your parents over here and explain to them what an inconsiderate filly they’ve been raising and—”

“No! Please don’t!” I pleaded with the mare. Though my parents were miles away in another city, I feared that this incident would be brought to Princess Celestia’s attention, and I didn’t want to offend my mentor with a display of inconsiderate behavior, especially during a party that Celestia organized for me. “I-I’ll clean it up, I promise!”

“Hmph, now that’s more like it,” the mare replied, smirking in triumph before heading on her way.

As I couldn’t see any waste bins nearby, I spread the tablecloth out like a tarp and began piling up all the spilt food, plates, and glassware into a pile in the center. On the bright side, it made for a good opportunity to practise my magical dexterity, grabbing individual pieces of broken glass rather than scooping it all up with one magical shovel. It made for a bit more work, but I relished any opportunity to use my magic, even for mundane tasks.

Once I had finished cleaning up and soothed my guilty conscience, I was once more gripped with renewed excitement. It was time for cake; it was my birthday party and I had just finished cleaning a big mess, so I deserved a reward. There would be cake, and no clown or uptight mare was going to stand in my way! I was ready to fight through Nightmare Moon herself if that was what it took.

With all that enthusiasm in mind, you can imagine how devastated I felt when I reached the table where the cake had been and discovered nothing but a silver platter with a sprinkling of crumbs and icing upon it. I was too stunned for words. How could this have happened? The cake was there just a few minutes ago. It wasn’t as though it just grew legs and walked out the door.

Well, that’s technically possible if one cast a self-locomotion spell on the cake, but who would do that?

A quick glance about the room, however, and I soon realized that the cake didn’t need to grow legs to walk away, it just hitched a ride with things that already had legs. Almost everyone at the party was strolling about with a slice of cake on their plate, happily munching away at pieces of my birthday cake.

This was an absolute injustice! A crime against all equine kind!

“Wh-what happened to the cake?” I asked to the nearest pony enjoying ill-gotten goods. “How is it all gone?”

“Hrm?” Once again, the guests of the party seemed to be taken by surprise to be approached by a little filly. “Oh, yes, I suppose it is all gone. I guess they didn’t make the cake large enough for the crowd.”

“N-nopony saved me a piece?” I whimpered in disbelief. “But… but that was my cake!”

“Your cake? My my, somebody has a sense of entitlement,” the pony scoffed before trotting away.

I allowed him to leave without further harassment, as I was still too stunned to respond. It was like seeing a fully-grown stallion suddenly jump out in a wig and dress; your brain needs to take a few moments just to make sure it’s not suffering from a stroke or a hallucinogenic drug.

“But it’s my birthday,” I murmured to myself.

Oh well, who needed cake anyways? It’s not like it’s one of the best parts of a birthday party anyways. Cake is overrated anyways: just loads of sugar and fat. It’s not healthy for a growing filly to gorge themselves on so many empty calories. Besides, I lived at the Royal Palace, so it wasn’t as though I couldn’t ask for some pastries or cake to be sent to my room at any hour of the day, not that I abused such a privilege since I was still wary of asking too much of my hosts.

Suffice to say, the party was doing little to instill anything that resembled joy into my life, unless joy normally tasted like tail sweat. There was still one last thing I could do that could make this party worth all the effort put into it, and that was to make some friends. A good friend could make even a colonoscopy better, which coincidentally enough was what my time at the party had felt like thus far.

I eventually managed to find a group of colts and fillies about my age that looked the most likely to give me a chance. Most of them were playing around with their balloon animals, though a few of the colts had balloon swords and were in the midst of an epic duel. As I drew closer, my nervousness and anxiety began to scream from the back of my mind to just turn and walk away, to spare myself what would surely be yet another embarrassing disaster.

Maybe life would have gone differently for me if I had listened to that voice.

A more astute pony might’ve realized that something was amiss when, one-by-one, all of the colts and fillies’ heads turned in my direction. Some of them looked on with curious gazes, others with awe and wonder. Now I wasn’t so self-absorbed at that age to believe that my mere presence warranted such response, but they were nonetheless all looking in my direction so I knew I had to say something.

“H-hello everypony, my name is Sunset—”

“Oh my gosh, it’s Princess Celestia!” one of the fillies shouted.

I didn’t even have time to say ‘what?’ before the rush of ponies charging past left me sprawled across the floor in a dazed mess. Once the room stopped spinning, I was able to see the source of all the commotion. Sure enough, it was Princess Celestia’s arrival that garnered everyone’s attention.

And why wouldn’t she? She was the Princess, after all; the most admired and beloved pony in the entire kingdom. Ponies would trample each other underhoof, as nearly demonstrated just a few moments ago, just for a chance to be within hoof’s reach of her. Before becoming her pupil, I would have happily shoved my grandmother down the stairs and ridden upon her back like a toboggan if it meant getting close to the Princess.

It was then I finally realized that the ponies here might’ve been attending a birthday party, but that was not why they were here.

*******************

“Sunset, are you in here?”

Not many ponies can say that they’ve ignored Princess Celestia, especially when she’s calling your name, but I was in little mood to talk. In fact, the only thing I wanted at that moment was an invisibility cloak so I could disappear from the world altogether. Instead, however, I had to settle with just hiding under my bedsheets again, which is about as conspicuous as wings on a pig.

The fact that my tail was dangling out from under the bedsheets didn’t help me either.

Nonetheless, I remained steadfast in my silence. If Celestia wanted conversation, she would have to drag it out of me, which in retrospect is hardly an obstacle for one as powerful as she. But the Princess was a patient pony, not one to force conversation when it wasn’t necessary. Instead, she set herself down on the bed next to me, trying once more to coax me out.

“I couldn’t find you at your party,” she continued. “You haven’t been hiding up here the whole time have you?”

“Why not?” I murmured in response, though still hidden beneath the quilts. “It wasn’t my party, anyways, it was your party. That’s why everypony was there; why all the grown-ups were having their stupid grown-up conversations, and eating their stupid, icky grown-up foods.” I allowed myself a quiet, heartbroken whimper. I didn’t want to come across as some whimpering cry baby, but it was hard to keep my emotions contained. “Nopony knew who I was; they didn’t even care.”

In response, all I heard was a faint muttering of ‘oh dear,’ followed by a prolonged silence. Had I made similar remarks in front of my family, my father would’ve rebuked me to the point where I would’ve felt like I had single-handedly ruined the party. As a result, I was a very confused filly when met with this reaction. Curiosity eventually overpowered my bout of self-pity and I soon poked my head out from under the blankets. What I saw left me in disbelief: Celestia looked absolutely crestfallen.

“Princess Celestia, what’s wrong?” I asked, now more concerned about her than anything that I had been feeling.

“I wanted to make this day special for you,” Celestia explained. “Watching you spend the past few months here without making any friends, it was heart-wrenching for me. It felt like I was failing you. No filly should be spending their childhood alone, least of all one as special as you.” Then Princess Celestia did something I did not expect. “I am so very sorry, Sunset.”

A Princess apologizing? But that would’ve required her to admit to fault or error. I was a filly that saw Celestia as this grand, infallible being; how could she be wrong about anything?

“I-it’s not your fault,” I hastily replied. “It’s just a party. It’s not a big deal—really.”

Her wing suddenly swooped around me, drawing me in closer until I was nestled alongside her. “Your compassion is touching, Sunset, but it is equally important to be honest and open about how you feel. You cannot expect ponies to be honest with you if you do not learn to be honest with yourself and with others. So please, speak from your heart.”

“Okay then,” I nodded slowly, “in that case, I thought there were too many grown-ups there. The things grown-ups do for fun is boring, and they just make everything around them boring. And the food was gross. Why weren’t there any cupcakes? Or fritters? Or ice cream?” Honesty had a rather therapeutic effect, and it didn’t take long before I was spouting every grievance I had been holding in. “I mean, who serves cheese at a birthday party? Especially the stinky blue kind! I mean, it’s just all ‘bleck!’ you know? Plus they ate all the cake before I ever even got close to it. I’m beginning to think everyone just came in order to take a slice because they devoured it faster than a flock of parasprites! Then there were the clowns. Why did there have to be clowns?”

“Do you not like clowns?”

“Clowns are filly-abducting demons wrapped in red rubber and face paint! They are not ponies but an amalgamation of lies and horror, made manifest by the will of a demented mind!”

After such a thorough venting, I had to take a moment to catch my breath and let all the emotion wash over me. Celestia, for her part, found a small source of amusement in my sudden outburst, which was quite a departure from the soft-spoken nature she must’ve grown used to.

“Do you feel a bit better now?” she asked.

“A little,” I nodded.

“It’s funny; you would think with all the parties and galas and festivities that I’ve hosted over the years, I would know what to do to celebrate one filly’s birthday,” Celestia remarked, a wistful sigh following afterwards. “I’m so very sorry for what happened today. I had wanted to give you something special for today, and instead I only made you feel worse. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course! I could never be mad with you,” I insisted, oblivious to how quickly that sentiment would change in the future. I tried to offer what comfort I could by giving the Princess a hug, even though my tiny hooves could barely reach around her figure. “It’s just a silly party, anyways. To be honest, I’d really like if I could just spend my birthday with you.”

“Then allow me the chance to correct this injustice,” Celestia suddenly announced. She had a playful smirk on her face, one that filled me with joyful anticipation. Her magic hoisted me off the bed as she got back to her hooves and she set me down upon her back.

“What are we going to do?” I asked as I grasped my hooves around the base of her neck. I was already giddy with excitement just at the idea of getting to ride around on the Princess, so one could imagine what I felt wondering what else she had in store.

“First off, we are going to go down to the kitchen, and we are going to get you another cake—a proper one this time, made however you want!”

“Really? Any kind of cake I want?”

“To your heart’s content.”

“Then I want a chocolate cake. No, wait! A vanilla cake—wait, I got it! A chocolate and vanilla cake! With lots of strawberries and rainbow sprinkles!”

Celestia laughed as she trotted off towards the kitchen. “Now that sounds like a cake worth celebrating with,” she replied. On our way out, we passed by her Royal Schedule Advisor. “Mr. Kibitz, clear the rest of my schedule for today; I shall be spending it with my pupil.”

The rest of the day was spent with Celestia and I enjoying cake by the fireplace in her quarters. We talked about life, the places we’ve been, our dreams for the future, and every other subject an inquisitive filly could conceive of. By the time we had finished the cake, including sharing slices with patrolling guards and some of the cleaning staff, I had long since fallen asleep alongside the Princess. It was by far the best birthday I had ever had.

Princess Celestia must’ve really enjoyed the evening, too, as it became a yearly tradition for us. Whenever my birthday came around, we didn’t bother with any kind of fancy parties or social gatherings; just us and a cake by the fireplace.

In retrospect, perhaps if we hadn’t committed to our new tradition, I might’ve had a more successful birthday party later and formed meaningful relationships with other ponies. And that by focusing so much more on my relation with my mentor, I ignored learning lessons about friendship. Instead of exposing me to others, I became insulated from them. None of that is to imply Celestia made a mistake or should burden any of the blame for my eventual failings in life; after all, it was only one day out of the year, and I chose to let the ruins of my first birthday keep me from even considering approaching any of the other fillies in school. I had the Princess and my magic, and that was all I decided I needed.

Of course, like many of the good things in my life, I eventually took this tradition for granted and decided that it was secondary to my pursuit of magic and knowledge. Apart from my later expulsion, my last birthday under Princess Celestia’s tutelage was the biggest mistake of my life.

*******************

“Sunset Shimmer? Are you in here?” Celestia called out, which broke the tranquility of the castle library. Though I didn’t answer back immediately, the Princess was able to follow the sound of my twinkling magic to eventually find me behind a fortress of tomes and texts, otherwise known as my second bedroom at the castle. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Oh! Sorry, Princess Celestia. I’ve been busy studying,” I replied, not that the answer wasn’t obvious at first glance.

“I suppose I should’ve expected this,” she remarked as she shifted some of the books aside to afford a better view of me. “I was hoping that we might be able to spend some time together.”

“Will this be a lesson? Should I bring my notebooks?”

“No, this isn’t any kind of lesson.”

“Oh. Um, in that case, could we maybe do that tomorrow? I was hoping to be able to finish this book tonight.”

Were my muzzle not buried in the aforementioned books, I might’ve noticed how disappointed my mentor looked. “Do you know what day it is?” she asked, not trying to sound incessant but clearly attempting to nudge the conversation in a particular direction.

Again, though, I was so busy reading that Nightmare Moon could’ve dropped into the chair next to me and I wouldn’t have noticed until the eternal night ruined my lighting.

“Of course,” I answered, “it’s three weeks from my next exam. That’s why I need to make sure I know these books cover to cover in preparation.”

“Sunset Shimmer, you don’t need to spend every waking hour studying. You can take a night off from studying and still be more than capable of passing all of your exams with flying colours.”

“Well, I know that, too, but it’s why I’m here after all,” I replied with an amused chuckle. “I’m here to study and learn magic, so it’s kind of wasting my potential to bother with anything else.”

“Do you really consider spending time talking with me to be wasting your potential?”

“W-what? N-no! I didn’t mean it like that all your highness,” I quickly stammered in a verbal retreat. “It’s just… I know you’re busy and all, so I don’t want to take away from your important duties of running the kingdom. And these studies are very important to me, so I would really like to get them finished.”

Celestia eventually let out a quiet, defeated sigh. “Very well then, I shall leave you to your books.”

“Unless you want to talk about, say, magic mirrors.”

“Good night, Sunset Shimmer.”

The Princess then left, leaving me to spend the rest of the night pouring over my textbooks and wondering why so many of the night guards were eating cake.

*******************

“It never once dawned on me that perhaps Princess Celestia looked forward to those nights even more than I had. My expulsion was difficult, but I brought that upon myself by ignoring the real lessons she was trying to teach me. But what I did to her, taking something that was so important to her and throwing it aside like it meant nothing—I deserve far worse for that.”

Once I had finished my story, I felt a strange sense of emotional fatigue about me, as though my heart had decided to run its own marathon. When I finally glanced up after having spent most of the story staring shamefully into my clasped hands, I saw two faces looking quite surprised, and one on the verge of tears.

“Um, Pinkie Pie, are you oka—”

“That was so sad!” Pinkie suddenly exclaimed, lunging forward and throwing her arms around me. She squeezed tight, burying her face into my shoulder as she continued to sob and blubber uncontrollably.

“Pinkie, you’re… hugging me.” I was so taken by surprise that my brain had trouble formulating a response beyond stating the obvious. “Could you stop that? Please?”

But she didn’t. She just kept on crying.

“Please stop crying,” I continued pleading with her. I looked to the others for help. “I don’t—what do I do? Oh god, please stop crying already.”

Fortunately for me, Luna decided to intervene and she gently eased my friend away. “Okay, give her some space,” she suggested. “I know it’s sad and all, but crying isn’t very productive.”

“O-okay.” Pinkie nodded between sniffles.

I wasn’t sure what Luna was planning, but I could tell she was up to something when she motioned for me to shift my seat so that Pinkie and I were facing one another. Luna herself sat just off to the side, almost like an intermediary.

“Now I first want to say that I am still trying to wrap my head around Sunset’s story,” Luna began. “Suffice to say, it’s hard for me to picture something involving my sister, yet also not my sister because she is a giant magic horse.”

“Pony,” Pinkie corrected.

“Well, Princess Celestia is pretty tall. Horse wouldn’t be an inaccurate term, at least from this world’s perspective,” I replied.

“Do you even have horses in Equestria?” Rainbow Dash inquired.

“From a scientific standpoint, we often used the term horse to distinguish the modern pony species from some of its distant ancestors,” I explained. “It was also once used to refer to inhabitants from Saddle Arabia, as they’re much, much larger, but that has its roots as a derogatory term so it’s sorta frowned upon these days.”

“Girls!” Luna called for our attention once more with a firm tone. “I think we’re getting a little distracted. What the two of you need right now is an honest and serious conversation about this whole birthday business, with emphasis on the honest and serious part. So that means no jokes from you, Pinkie, and no more obfuscation from you, Sunset.”

“What’s obfuscation mean?” Rainbow asked, raising her hand up.

“It means she wants me to be completely honest,” I answered. “And I suppose that is something I still need to get in the habit of.”

“And why do you believe that’s the case?” Luna was beginning to sound less like a vice principal and my daily tormentor, and more like her sister.

At first I just shrugged my shoulders and gave the sort of ‘I dunno’ that one would expect from most teenagers. She wanted honesty, though, so I decided to say the first thing that came to mind.

“I guess I’m just always worried that the more people find out about me, the less they’ll like me. It didn’t take much for the school to universally revile me, and they haven’t even seen the real nitty, gritty details of the kind of person I was.” Once I put the first few thoughts to word, though, the rest began to flow quite readily. I was still nervous, though, fidgeting in my seat like a prisoner under interrogation, but I willed myself forward anyways. “So I’ve always got to watch my step and what I say because I know I’m still treading on thin ice with everyone.”

“But we’re your friends,” Pinkie replied. “I mean, you already tried to take over the school, how bad do you think you’ll overstep if you just stay honest? It’s not like you’re going to wake up one morning and decide to start being evil again.”

“Things don’t fall apart all at once, Pinkie. I didn’t lose my standing with Princess Celestia in one fell swoop—it was little by little. So who knows where that line will be when you decide that I don’t deserve something even as simple as a birthday party.”

I must’ve struck a nerve with Pinkie because she suddenly shot up from the seat like her rear-end had caught fire. “Don’t you dare say that about yourself!” she bellowed.

Though I was taken aback by the sudden intensity, I realized soon that it wasn’t anger or malice that fueled her, but a passion of a different variety.

“You are not some horrible monster that needs to be locked away or never allowed to have any good things in their life! You are Sunset Shimmer, and you deserve to be just as happy and to have lots of friends and wonderful memories just like everybody else! Even if we stop being friends, you would still deserve to have all of those things because everybody deserves those things, no matter what. You might think you don’t deserve a party, but I think you deserve one even more because you should never think so little of yourself. You’re smart and confident and driven and I’m always super jealous of your hair. You’re wonderful, and you’ve got to believe that with all your heart!”

When Pinkie Pie first said that she was willing to be my friend, many weeks ago, I was skeptical of what I could possibly learn from her. Applejack helped me to understand the importance of honesty. Fluttershy showed me that kindness was not just a net balance of gains and losses. What could Pinkie have shown me with her constant need to make people laugh or throw parties? What did the Element of Laughter really mean?

“I know it might just seem like a party to you,” Pinkie continued with barely even a pause for breathing, “but I want to throw you a party because you’re my friend. Parties make me feel great, but more importantly it helps make my friends feel great. It brings all the important people in your life together and you get to make all kinds of wonderful memories that you get to carry through your whole life! Even if we’re not always friends later on, I still want you to be able to look back on these years and still feel happy about them, and maybe even help to keep reminding you about how great a friend you’ll always be to me and to others.”

That’s when I realized how blind I was being to something that had been staring me in the face. Laughter wasn’t just about making a person feel good in the moment, it was hope; it was joy; it was optimism. It was the rosy tint in your eyes that could let you wake up in the morning, look out the window, see nothing but gray clouds and rain, and still say to yourself ‘today is going to be a great day!’ Pinkie had always been trying to do more than just make me smile and giggle, she wanted me to feel good about my life—past, present, and future. She wanted me to believe in myself that I can always build a better day.

She had always been trying to inspire me, even if she didn’t necessarily realize it herself.

“Oh wow, feeling… kinda dizzy now…” Pinkie began to waver, murmuring inaudibly before eventually falling back into her seat in a tired heap. Perhaps the next time she went on a rant, she’d remember to breathe.

As for myself, I was still staring with my mouth hanging open like an idiot.

“I… I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about it,” I eventually stammered out. “I always thought you just wanted to throw a party because that’s what you like to do. I never even really stopped to consider that it was for my sake, or that maybe I could use some cheering up in my life. I guess guilt has a way of making somebody get a little fixated on trying to right all the wrongs, even when it’s self-destructive.” I gave her a weak smile and then reached over to grab her still tired hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you or your party seriously.”

“Does this mean… that we can have a—?”

“Yes, Pinkie, you can throw me a birthday party.”

Despite her fatigue, my friend managed to throw up one arm in celebration. “Go Pinkie.”