• Published 11th Jul 2015
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Return to Equestria: The Rise of Roam - Daniel-Gleebits



Sunset Shimmer and Sonata Dusk live happily together, bonded by experience and united in love. But an unexpected visit from the Equestrian Discord, and a mysterious journal entry from Twilight Sparkle send them on a journey back to Equestria

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The Curious Town of Gauzeville

Return to Equestria: The Rise of Roam

Sunset Shimmer


Whilst in the human world, several of her friends had casually remarked from time-to-time that Sunset shared certain traits with Twilight Sparkle. One of these, which had been pointed out by Fluttershy, was her ability – almost neurotic need – to see the bright side of a situation.

Most people and ponies might have been well and truly sunk in a situation where their marefriend was wandering off to a nearby thicket to cry herself into calmness, but Sunset managed to find a pale beam of sunlight poking through the dark grey clouds of this ominous situation. And with a frightening eagerness worthy of Twilight Sparkle handing in an assignment late, she swooped to seize hold of the opportunity.

Ow!” Script cried as Sunset punched him hard in the nose. “I was joking when I said that I liked being hit, okay!”

Sunset ignored him. She shot a look at Loyal Stride, who merely looked coldly back. She wasn’t entirely sure if he was to blame for what had happened, but to be honest she wasn’t going to push the issue with him. He had a sword to hoof nearby, and seemed calm enough now to have the brains to remember it.

“Well done,” she said to the both of them. “I gather from how the two of you are acting that you have some bad history. Well, get over it. If you want to come with us to meet Princess Luna,” she said to Script, “and you want to repay your life debt, or whatever,” she turned to Loyal Stride, “then you’re going to have to get along.”

Script and Loyal Stride side-glanced to each other, their faces dark and heavy with mutual distrust. Sunset sighed as they both turned to look away from each other, Script nursing his nose with as much dignity as he seemed able to muster.

“Fine,” Sunset said impatiently. “Whatever. Just don’t try to kill each other, and keep your bickering to a minimum. Frankly I don’t care if you throw each other into the river, but Sonata seems to actually give a damn for some reason, so knock it off.”

Loyal Stride regarded her with an expression of magisterial disdain. Standing leisurely, he walked sedately over to Sunset, his eyes never leaving hers. She stood her ground as best she could, but as he neared, towering over her, his toned, muscular form casting a palpable shadow over her, she had to admit to herself that she felt a little – just a little – intimidated.

“Do not overstep yourself, Equestrian,” he breathed. “I will follow you because I must satisfy my honour, and I will keep my personal issues to myself for her sake alone.” He nodded towards the patch of trees where Sonata was standing. “But if you ever give me orders again, I’ll snap your neck so fast you’ll think you’re walking backwards.”

He didn’t pause to see whether she understood him, but turned away instantly, back towards the shrine, and where his armour lay shining in the morning light.

Sunset gulped as discreetly as she could, but then noticed Script looking at her over his bloody hoof. She cleared her dry throat with some difficulty, and turned back to where Sonata was sitting.

“You doing okay?” she asked, sidling up to Sonata.

Sonata took a sharp intake of breath and lifted her head as though to look at the sky. “Yeah, I... I got it out.” She blushed when Sunset gave her an arch look. “Out of my system, I mean.”

“Ahh,” Sunset said knowingly. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Sonata asked, looking puzzled.

“When you told me why you feel bad for Script, I didn’t know you still felt that way. About how you used to be, I mean.”

Sunset didn’t feel herself upon entirely sure footing here. It was a subject that honestly hadn’t come up very much ever since Sonata had first moved in with her, and Sunset had never seen much reason to ask too deeply into it before. Sonata’s centuries with her sisters seemed – to Sunset at least – like something that Sonata herself didn’t want to talk about much. But now that she herself considered the matter, she realised how insensitive, even negligent it was, not to have inquired into Sonata’s life before Sunset had known her. Or to tell her anything of her own life... Sure, odd snippets had been brought up, but they’d never had a real discussion about their pasts with each other. Sunset felt uneasy.

Was that wrong? Was talking about your past something people in love were supposed to do? Sunset didn’t know, but she had a creeping suspicion that whatever she had decided must have been the wrong decision. Somehow, some way, fate would conspire to make it so, she was sure of it.

“Damn you, cruel destiny,” she muttered, clenching an imaginary fist.

“To be honest,” Sonata sighed, interrupting Sunset’s increasingly hysterical internal dialogue. “I... well I...” She rubbed the back of her neck as though she was embarrassed.

“What?” Sunset prompted.

“I... don’t remember much of my life from back then.”

Sunset’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

“I mean,” Sonata went on hastily, as though to cover herself. “We lived in the human world for a long time. Ages and ages went by with us just drifting across the world, trying to find some way of getting our true power back, or doing something at least. There’s nothing worse than having so much time that there’s literally nothing left to do. It was all such a waste in the end.”

“Don’t say that,” Sunset said coaxingly. “You must have done some pretty awesome things in all that time.”

“A few things maybe,” Sonata conceded, smiling a little. “There was that one time in China. The guys there had to have their hair in a certain way or they’d get executed, see? And this guy talked some smack to Adagio, and she made us follow him around for, like, an entire month, threatening to cut his hair off!” She laughed, but upon catching Sunset not laughing with her, her laughter wound down. “You kind of had to be there,” she said, clearing her throat. “Most people don’t remember every day of their entire life. They have gaps in their memories when things just weren’t worth remembering. I just happen to have much bigger gaps than most.”

“And...” Sunset said awkwardly. “Do you still feel that way? About how you used to live?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to know about all that stuff,” Sonata said, smiling as though amused by Sunset’s interest.

“I want to know about you,” Sunset said.

Sonata snorted into laughter. “That is so cheesy!”

“Oh, come on,” Sunset mumbled, not looking at Sonata. “I’m trying to cheer you up here.”

“I know you are,” Sonata said earnestly. “I know. And I appreciate it, really. I know that you don’t like Script, but to be honest, my old self would have envied him.”

“Envied him?” Sunset blurted, taken entirely by surprise by this comment. “Why?”

“He might be lonely,” Sonata said quietly, “but at least he has a goal.”

“You had a goal too. World domination’s a pretty ambitious idea.”

“It wasn’t my goal,” Sonata corrected her. “It was just what Adagio wanted to do, and what I thought Aria wanted too. All I wanted was to not be alone.” Sunset’s mouth screwed up involuntarily, and her eyes widened so much that Sonata leaned back. “Uh... Sunset? Please don’t start crying.”

“But you can’t say something like that and not expect me to!” Sunset complained, turning away and blinking hard.

“Sunset, please,” Sonata interrupted carelessly, putting a gentle hoof to Sunset’s mouth. “When I pout, it’s cute. When you do it... eh.”

Sunset spluttered for a moment, pushing Sonata’s hoof down. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Then she noticed Sonata trying not to laugh. “Oh...! Oh, good grief...”

“Shimmy is so silly,” Sonata trilled, booping Sunset on the nose. “Who’s easy to tease? Shimmy is. Shimmy is.”

“Okay, okay, don’t push it,” Sunset grumbled, half-smiling as she booped Sonata back. “You got me. I wonder why I put up with you sometimes.”

“Sexy fun time,” Sonata reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” Sunset agreed, trying and failing to snap her non-existent fingers. “I still owe you bedtime, don’t I?”

“Don’t think I’ll forget it, either,” Sonata grinned. Then her grin sobered a little. “Thanks for asking though. It’s not like I don’t want to talk about it. It just never really came up before.”

An awkward sort of pause followed this statement where neither of them seemed to want to say anything. Apparently with the aim of popping the bubble of discomfort, Sonata turned her suddenly ponderous gaze on Script and Loyal Stride, the latter of whom was slipping his shining armour back onto himself with a perfunctoriness that suggested much practise.

“I really don’t think I want him owing me his life,” she said uncomfortably.

“How exactly did we manage to pick up a mad scientist and a bodyguard, is what I’d like to know?” Sunset shook her head, internally cursing their misfortune.

“I kinda always thought I’d be insane,” Sonata commented thoughtfully.

“Why’s that?” Sunset asked, suppressing a snort.

Sonata shrugged. “I don’t know really,” she said, rubbing her chin. “I just always had a feeling. Like, once, Dagi, Aria, and me all went into this 8-track shop trying to find some new style Adagio thought might amplify our powers a little, when I found myself wanting to sit on the counter and tell the owner my life story. Which would have taken a while now that I think about it.”

Sunset considered this. “That does sound a little creepy to be honest, Sonata,” she said, inclining her head. “But, insane?”

“You know, like I was in a therapist’s office,” Sonata prompted.

“Oh!” Sunset said, cottoning on. “I get it. Like ‘how does that make you feel’ sort of thing.”

“Exactly!” Sonata said eagerly. “With one of those ridiculous chairs like the one Rarity faints on.”

“A chaise lounge?” Sunset suggested.

“Is that what it’s called?” Sonata flapped her lips. “I’ll never remember that.”

“Well, did you do it?” Sunset asked.

“What?”

“Tell the owner your life story.”

“No,” Sonata sighed. “I sat on the desk and leaned over, and was about to ask if she had a moment, but then Adagio told me not to bother her.”

“Are we setting out yet?” Script yelled over.

“Yeah,” Sunset shouted back. “Whenever you two have made up your lover’s quarrel!”

Urgh!” Script exclaimed back. “All of my hate!”


It transpired – as Script condescended to inform them – that Sonata had overshot the town that they had been heading to in her haste to get away.

“So now we have to walk there,” Script said smiling grimly at Sonata. “Unless anypony wants to take another ride on the oesophagus express?”

“No offense, but you guys made me queasy,” Sonata groaned, looking as though the very thought of it was turning her green.

“Well good. Because that was gross.” He coughed a little when Sunset gave him a sharp look. “I mean helpful,” he amended, turning his head so that his nose was out of Sunset’s range. “Because it was helpful. I meant to say ‘helpful’, of course.” He grinned unconvincingly as Sunset continued to glare at him.

“We’re not going to Last Light,” Loyal Stride said firmly, out of the blue.

“Oh, not that again,” Sunset muttered. “We’re going to Last Light, wherever that is, and that’s that.”

He definitely isn’t going,” Loyal Stride grunted, his steely eyes on Script. “What you two do in your own country isn’t my concern, but I’ll not have him giving away anything that could compromise the Republic.”

“I’m not going to give away sensitive information!” Script exclaimed exasperatedly. “For goodness sake, I deserted to save my country, not to sell secrets to the Equestrians. Like they could hurt Roam anyway with that patchwork assortment of soldiers they’re pleased to call an army.”

“Equestria doesn’t have a formal army,” Sunset frowned. “Nothing outside of the Royal Guard.”

“As a matter of fact, it’s had a standing military for some sixty years now. Including an army, and an air force to counter the ventnavis fleets,” Script explained. Then he snorted. “Well, that’s what it’s supposed to do, pfft!”

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Loyal Stride sighed whole-heartedly. “He can’t even help himself. Ask you a question, you have to answer, don’t you.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Script admitted.

“That was rhetorical.”

“Okay, I agree he has a mouth that seems to confirm the theory of perpetual motion,” Sunset relented. “And to be honest, just looking at him makes me want to punch him repeatedly.”

“Walking right beside you here,” Script pointed out. “Within earshot, and everything.”

“And every time he says anything insensitive, I picture him in my mind being devoured by Sonata’s serpent form.”

Sonata made a queasy, retching sound as the colour in her face leaned decidedly towards the greener end of the colour spectrum.

“But I did make a promise, and I intend to keep it,” Sunset finished, looking Loyal Stride dead in the eye.

Loyal Stride looked mildly impressed. “Commendable,” he admitted, lifting a single haughty eyebrow.

“So what’s it going to take to get you to agree to him coming along?” Sunset asked him bluntly.

Loyal Stride’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. Sunset marvelled at just how statuesque his face was; it was as though it didn’t actually move, but simply attained the impression of change via the different shadows playing about it. She rather wondered whether years of military discipline had solidified his facial muscles into a perpetual look of severity. Whilst she gave herself over briefly to these idly speculations, he seemed to consider the question.

“If I hold on to something valuable to him,” Loyal Stride said thoughtfully. “Something I can keep as insurance.”

Sunset frowned at Script. “I don’t think he actually has anything.” She squinted at the cloth around his neck and chest. “Except his scarf.”

“What’s a scarf?” Loyal Stride asked, bemused.

Script gave Loyal Stride a very curious look. It looked to Sunset a little like disappointment, as though Loyal Stride had fallen short of his expectations.

“Well, that’s not exactly true,” he said heavily.

They all stopped when he ceased walking, and watched with some curiosity as he raised his horn. A sharp glow blazed at the tip, and in a flash of bright blue light, a book fell out of the air. They all stared at it, all but Loyal Stride appearing to be surprised by the tome’s sudden arrival.

“Was that a partial vanishment spell?” Sunset asked, impressed.

“Yep,” Script said, his chest inflating a little. “Not easy to do.”

“Too right it’s not,” Sunset said, half laughing, flipping the book open and skimming a few pages. “A History of the Crystal Empire. And not a single page missing as far as I can tell. That’s really advanced magic.”

“What’s that?” Script asked no pony in particular, flicking his ears. “Is that... approval? Strange.”

“If only your personality was as impressive,” Sunset added in a deadpan voice.

“Ahh, there it is. Beautiful, familiar derision,” Script sighed dreamily.

“So this book is precious to you?” Loyal Stride asked, pretending to be observing the book as well, although his sharp eyes were fixed covertly upon Script’s face.

“Oh yes,” Script said succinctly. “Central to the research I was performing. Can’t perform it without this book.”

“Hand over the rest of them,” Loyal Stride said with a snap in his voice like a whip. The sharpness of the command seemed to take Script a little by surprise. He hesitated.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, we were friends for a long time, and I know you. You’d no sooner have a single book as the centre of your research than I’d... I’d...” He seemed to cast around for some comparison to make. Sunset thought the retort had been going so well, too.

“Than you’d leave a barracks inspection half finished?” Script suggested helpfully. “Or only run half a lap? Or polish only some of your armour? Or—“

“Precisely!” Loyal Stride said loudly over him. “So hand over the rest of them. Only when I have the key to your research in hoof will I allow you to go to the Nightlands.”

Script glared at him, palpable fury burning in his bright green eyes. Sunset looked uneasily between the two, half expecting them to start fighting again. She thought she saw in the depths of green a sparkle of magic, like an uncast spell seething inside his brain. In contrast, Loyal Stride’s steely blue eyes were hard as stone; unyielding and icy.

“It’s like the unstoppable force meets the immovable object, isn’t it?” Sonata whispered next to her.

“How did you—“

“—know you were thinking that?” Sonata finished for her. She gave Sunset a wry smile. “Easy. I know you.”

Before this touching moment could become much more, it was swiftly cut off by Script sighing loudly, and shouting “FINE!” Before Sunset, Sonata, or Loyal Stride could do anything more than gasp, cry out, or frown as their characters dictated, Script gave his horn a violent swish. In a flood of paraphernalia and blue light, the countryside around them was suddenly flooded with a miscellany of seemingly random objects, most of them books.

Sunset shook away a complete set of The Nature of Thaumaturgy: Volumes I – XII whilst Sonata popped her head out from under a large map of the continent.

“There!” Script bawled. “Happy now? No, of-bleedin-course you’re not. You’re never happy!”

“Stop acting like a foal,” Loyal Stride chided, stepping with surprising dexterity over a box of round bottles. “Just give me whichever of these are the most important.”

“They’re all important,” Script sneered stubbornly. “So I guess you’ll just have to carry it all.”

“Either that or I drag you back to base right now,” Loyal Stride retorted, evidently losing patience.

“Okay, just stop!” Sunset interjected, scowling at both of them. “This has got to stop. We’re not going to get anywhere if you two can’t stop bickering over every tiny little thing!”

Script told Loyal Stride to go do something that Sunset knew wouldn’t get into a 15-rated movie. “If he wants to impede my work and doom Roam to a magical apocalypse, then he’s carrying the full weight of it on his shoulders like I’ve been doing. And he can deal with all the censure and ridicule that comes along with it!”

“Shut up!” Sunset snapped before Loyal Stride could get started. “Just give him whatever books are most important. I’m sure he’ll still let you use them when you need to. Right?” She directed this last part to Loyal Stride. After a short pause, he gave a single, curt nod. Script took another short moment to seethe a little more, and then let out a loud, long ululation of annoyance. Everything began vanishing, one-by-one. Then Sunset saw it.

“Wait!” she cried. Casting a desperate, last-minute levitation, she hauled the tome out of the spell’s radius, and it zoomed into her hooves.

“Oh!” Sonata piped up cheerfully. “Your magic journal.”

“Princess Celestia’s. The one mine is linked to.” Sunset ran her hoof over its embossed exterior, feeling a certain sadness at the sun symbol at its centre. Meanwhile, all but four or five books of varying size remained from all the magical junk. Loyal Stride inspected each of them carefully before looking up.

“Does any pony have a bag that I may borrow?” he asked.

Script snorted.

“Here, you can borrow mine,” Sunset said quickly. She emptied her bag of its few items; the torn page with Twilight’s message, several biros, a notepad, and a water bottle. Passing the empty bag to Loyal Stride, she considered just how temporary she’d thought the trip was going to be, only to bring these bag-stuffers with her.

“I’m pretty sure that I can fit those in here as well,” Loyal Stride said politely after he’d packed the books. Sunset gave him the meagre items back, and her mentor’s magical journal.

“Don’t you want to see what’s inside?” Sonata asked curiously.

“Maybe later,” Sunset replied. We need to get moving.”

“The town isn’t far,” Loyal Stride stated. “We could see it from the air.”

“But won’t the other Roamans be looking for us there?” Sonata asked.

Loyal Stride raised one thick, black eyebrow to show her that he thought her comment was utterly nonsensical. “The patrol fleet is of the opinion that you drowned in a raging river, and that the rest of us were devoured by a giant sea monster.” He gazed for a moment into space. “Possibly they think that you were devoured by the sea monster too.”

“They wouldn’t know it was me,” Sonata surmised.

“Unless you began eating your own TAIL!” Script said dramatically. “You know,” he continued after a short silence. “Like the ouroboros. A great beast devouring itself?”

“So basically, we can relax a little,” Sonata said cheerfully, blithely ignoring Script like everypony else. “We can stop in town and look around, get something to eat, or—“

“That seems most inefficient,” Loyal Stride muttered to himself, his lip curling a little.

“Oh,” Sonata said sheepishly. “Um... well, what should we do?” She looked at Sunset.

“Get our bearings I think. So much has changed, I’d like a more comprehensive look of how matters stand at the moment. Like on a map or something.” She looked at Script. “I think I saw a map somewhere in that pile.”

“Look, if you don’t mind, I have some high-quality sulking to do back here. So if you could save all of your questions until we get to town, I’d really appreciate it.”

And with that, Sunset was suffered to be content. Seeking that one silver lining, she took solace in the fact that, as they walked along, Script’s voice did not intrude upon her conversation with Sonata once. Beside them, Loyal Stride strode along like a mute sentinel, his shaggy ears flicking occasionally through the slots for them in his steel helmet. Sunset was so engrossed in her conversation with Sonata, revelling in the lightness of their situation for the first time in what seemed like forever, that she didn’t notice the look of quiet victory on Script’s face as he lagged behind.


Their destination, which according to a colourful wooden sign was called Gauzeville, was a scenic little town set in between a cluster of green hills. When Sunset first set eyes upon it she had to stop and blink hard. The memory of Ponyville blasted to ruins and Twilight’s cracked and broken castle had put in her mind an idea reflected across all of Equestria. It honestly buoyed her spirits to see that the rest of her homeland wasn’t equally touched by war and desolation.

The only change, and it was a minor one she thought, was the daylight. Sunset had noticed that as the morning had pressed on, the daylight had not followed suit. It grew out of the long shadows and duskiness of sunrise to a perpetual state of high twilight. Up above the town hung the moon, floating eerily like a ghostly version of the sun, her pockmarked face radiating a light downwards that was literally a pale reflection of the sun’s more robust and colourful aura. Looking around at her surroundings more closely, she noticed for the first time that everything was tinged with a golden radiance that sent oranges, purples, and fiery reds across every surface. The trees glittered gold, the ponds and other water sources sparkling as though full of white diamonds.

“It’s beautiful,” Sonata said, also looking around.

“True beauty is a value, and there’s only value in rarity,” Script said pedantically.

“Do you have to put a kibosh on everything?” Sunset remonstrated, throwing Script a disapproving look.

“If I don’t say these things, you’ll all go on thinking stupid things,” Script said simply. “Anyway, lets get down there, meet with some of my contacts. I’ll have us rooms and food in no time. And at knock-down prices too!”

“Oh,” Sunset said, a thought striking her. “We’ll need money.”

“Yes,” Script responded thoughtfully. “Not to worry; I have a few bits still. I should have enough to get us through a week I think.”

“Just how far is it to Last Light from here?” Sunset inquired.

“About a two week walk I should think,” Script replied as they descended a quaint country footpath between two fields of spring corn.

“What about the train?” Sunset asked. She espied tracks running through the little town, leading from between two hills to the north east and snaking behind a lake to the west.

“We could take the train part the way there,” Loyal Stride interjected. “But I’d not recommend the whole way.”

“I agree,” Script said solemnly. “Since we’re meant to be dead, I’d rather minimise the chances that somepony will see us. Strider and I in particular stick out a little.”

“Don’t call me that,” Loyal Stride said warningly.

“Can I call you it?” Sonata asked smilingly.

“No.”

Sunset consoled Sonata all the way into the town.

“It’s not your fault he doesn’t want to be friends,” Sunset assured her as Script haggled with an inn keeper for rooms. “With any luck, he’ll work off whatever debt he thinks he owes you and just leave.”

“I don’t think I like Roam much,” Sonata said dispiritedly. “Everypony from there seems like they’re just wired to be mean and serious.”

“Tell me about it,” Sunset muttered out of the corner of her mouth as Script smirked at the owner of the inn.

“Two rooms. The rest are full apparently.”

“Really?” Sunset asked in surprise. The town didn’t seem to be a trading hub or anything where ponies would frequent.

“Yep, one for you two,” he tossed her the key. “And one for us.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Sunset asked him, looking beadily between Script and Loyal Stride whilst the owner gazed nervously over his counter.

“I shall resist the urge to crush his head like a rotten apple,” Loyal Stride said. Sunset considered that to be an oddly specific promise to make, but she could tell it was probably the best she was going to get.

“And I promise to keep my rapier sharp wit and propensity for pointing out uncomfortable truths ponies don’t want to hear to a minimum,” Script added, shouldering Loyal Stride playfully. Loyal Stride turned his head to glare at him like a dragon that’s just discovered diamond dogs looting its hoard.

“Just try not to kill each other,” Sunset said with a groan. “That’s all I ask.”

“Excuse me, miss,” the owner of the inn whispered. “Might I ask... I don’t want to be rude, but—“

“Wondering why we’re travelling with a pair of Roamans?” Sunset guessed. “To be honest, I’m not sure myself.”

“They won’t cause trouble, will they?” he asked anxiously. “Just, a few of the town’s inhabitants can be a little... temperamental themselves. I really don’t want any trouble here.”

“I’ll try to make sure they behave,” Sunset said seriously, noticing for the first time just how nervous the owner was actually looking. “We should be gone by tomorrow.”

The owner hesitated, and Sunset thought that she saw a look of concern pass across his features. But then it was gone, and he turned to serve somepony else at the bar. Sunset was just about to ask Sonata if she wanted to go up to their room, when a voice behind her made her turn around.

“I’m sorry?” she said politely, turning around to find a pale red mare with a straw-coloured mane sitting next to her on a barstool.

“Might I buy you two a drink?” the mare repeated, smiling between them. “Oh, you two do make the cutest couple,” she added fondly.

Sunset was slightly taken aback, both by the offer, and by the comment. “Oh, we... err...” she faltered.

“Oh it’s no trouble,” the mare said quickly, pre-empting Sunset’s declining the offer. “Please, consider it a welcome to town drink.”

“Well that’s very friendly of you,” Sunset said, seating herself. “I’m Sunset, by the way. Sunset Shimmer. And this is Sonata Dusk.”

“Charmed,” the mare said in a fluttery voice. “You can call me Flitter Rose.”

“So, you live here?” Sunset asked, trying to start conversation as Flitter Rose beamed at them.

“Oh yes,” she answered, still in the same half-laughing voice. “All my life.”

“So what do you do?”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” she said dismissively. “But enough about me. Tell me, how did you two meet?” she asked, leaning on the bar and staring at Sunset and Sonata in fascination.

Sunset found this a little rude if she was honest with herself. “Um... If it’s all the same to you—“ she began.

“Oh not a problem, not a problem,” Flitter Rose hastened to say. “Rude of me to ask. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Sunset assured her. “But if you don’t mind me asking—“

“Why do you think that we’re together?” Sonata asked suddenly, cutting across Sunset. Her tone was unexpectedly rancorous, and Sunset couldn’t help looking around at her a little reproachfully for speaking so rudely.

“Oh,” Flitter Rose said blinking. “I... well, you just compliment each other so well,” she tittered, her light tone returning as quickly as it had slipped.

The owner of the inn set down their three drinks. Flitter Rose took up hers immediately, and used the opportunity to avoid Sonata’s suspicious glare. Sunset meanwhile frowned at Sonata.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered to her marefriend. “It’s not like you to snap at ponies.”

“Something’s wrong,” Sonata said tensely, her eyes still on Flitter Rose’s profile. “It’s as though I should be able to see...” her voice trailed off.

Sunset didn’t know what to make of this. She looked behind her at the inn at large, and felt an eerie sensation run down her spine. She hadn’t seen it exactly, and when she looked around she saw no evidence whatsoever that any of the other patrons had deviated from their conversation and activities, but Sunset was suddenly overcome with the idea that a few of them had been staring in their direction. The notion was so strong that it made Sunset gaze around several times, as though she instinctively believed that she could catch one of them doing it.

After a few rounds of this however, her sense of paranoia began to taper off, and a sense of perspective pierced her fear. “Sonata, don’t scare me like that. We’re in a new place; it’s bound to feel a little weird at first.”

Sonata didn’t reply, but frowned at the bar top, absently tugging at her drink as though trying to listlessly pick it up. This effectively stuck a pin in Sunset’s logic balloon, and the fear began to close in around her again. Her eye darted to a stallion seated at a booth opposite a chatting friend. She distinctly saw him look quickly back to his friend, pretending not to have been watching her.

With an abrupt movement that made Sunset jump, Sonata stood up. “Come on,” Sonata said sharply. “I need some air.”

So saying, she took Sunset firmly by the upper foreleg and tugged her off her chair. “But, our drinks.”

“Oh, are you leaving?” Flitter Rose asked hastily. “But don’t you want your—“


“Sonata,” Sunset began as soon as they were outside. “What are you doing? That wasn’t very polite.”

“What?” Sonata asked absently.

Sunset frowned. Pulling Sonata to the side, around the inn and into the shadows so that they were out of sight of the street, she leaned around Sonata, trying to get a look at her face. “Sonata, what’s the matter? Can you hear me?” she asked when Sonata didn’t answer immediately.

“I... Yes I...” Sonata muttered, her eyes wondering.

“What’s wrong?” Sunset asked, pulling her around. “You said something was wrong; what is it?” Her eyes dropped down instinctively to the pendant. It wasn’t glowing, not even a little bit. But as Sunset frowned down at it, she thought that it... moved; pulsing slightly, as though it had become a small, stone heart. “Can you see negative energy? Is the pendant trying to draw it in?”

“No,” Sonata said with some difficulty. “It’s like... something else. It’s not around us, it’s... it’s from inside of us.”

“What’s from inside of us?” Sunset asked, confused.

“I don’t know. But the pendant... it knows something’s wrong. It’s trying to warn me.”

“Warn you how?” Sunset asked, feeling trepidation. “Doesn’t it try to, like, mesmerise you when it senses negative energy around you?”

“When I resist, yes,” Sonata said. She gave her head an experimental shake, like someone trying to get water out of their ears. “It’s like a humming in my head. Like someone holding a long note until I start listening.”

“And that’s going on now?” Sunset asked, looking with concern into Sonata’s slightly pained expression.

“No,” Sonata groaned. “No, it’s like... buzzing now. It just... I’m not even sure it’s there, but it’s driving me—” She cut herself off, rubbing her temple.

“So if there’s negative energy nearby, you hear singing,” Sunset summarised. “And if there’s something else, you hear buzzing?” She thought for a moment. “Is it trying to make you do something?”

“Leave,” Sonata breathed.

“What?” Sunset asked, feeling suddenly cold.

“It... it makes me want to leave. But it... it’s not so bad now, it was just...” She drew in a sharp breath, seemingly trying to pull herself together. “It was just bad at the bar.”

Sunset discreetly breathed a sigh of relief. “So you think there’s something in the bar?” Sunset inquired, giving the wall next to them a narrow look. “There were certainly some strange ponies in there. Did you think they kept looking at us too?”

“Looking?” Sonata asked, still a little dazedly. “No, I... I didn’t see anypony looking.”

“Oh,” Sunset said shortly. Maybe she had just imagined it. There was, after all, nothing inherently weird about somepony looking at one in bar. Especially if you’re a newcomer. “Well, what would you like to do? Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Sonata said, composing herself with long, deep breaths. “I think if I just walk around a little I’ll be fine.”

“You want some company?” Sunset asked, glad of an excuse to walk about and perhaps have a private moment with her marefriend without Script or Loyal Stride around.

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” Sonata said. “I just need a bit of thinking time.”

“Oh, okay,” Sunset said, a little crestfallen. “Well, if it gets worse come straight back okay? I think I’m going to go to the market and have a look around.”


As it turned out, Script had also had the idea of going to the market. Sunset found him there, apparently arguing with a purveyor of herbs and spices.

“Well do you at least have ground ginger?” Script demanded. “You have to have ground ginger. People cook with that!”

“I’m sorry,” the sales-pony said ruefully. “The entire town has had trouble getting stock recently. I think we’ll have deliveries in a few days though.”

“A few days!?” Script exploded. “How can you run a town like this? Do you run out of food as well?”

“Not usually,” the vendor said, blushing. “We have plenty of farms around.”

“But not enough for some ginger root.” Script scoffed loudly. He turned around abruptly and stormed off, muttering.

“Excuse me,” the vendor said rather suddenly to Sunset. “But are you two a couple?”

Sunset frowned, confused, until the vendor looked between her and Script’s retreating backside. Sunset would have snorted with derisive laughter, but instead she gave the vendor a narrow look. That was the second time somepony had asked her that question. Script meanwhile could be heard grumbling several stalls away.

“No, we’re not,” Sunset said. “We actually kind of hate each other.”

“Oh,” the vendor said, looking confused. “Well, can I get you anything?”

“Didn’t you say that you were out of stock?”

“Not everything,” the vendor said, evasively.

Sunset caught up with Script three stalls down, once again arguing with another salespony. Does he do nothing but argue?

“Script, there’s no point arguing if they don’t have what you need.”

“I’m frankly surprised that you feel that way,” Script began grumpily. “Considering I’m trying to make more medicine. You know, like the sort I gave to your marefriend out of the goodness of my shrivelled little black heart.”

“Ahh,” the vendor said with interest. “You have a marefriend?”

“Yes,” Sunset said perfunctorily to the salespony. “Script,” she began irritably. “Why do you have to act like that? To be honest I think that I could stand you if you didn’t always act like the entire world was dirt beneath your hooves.”

“If the entire world wasn’t intent on annoying me, maybe I’d regard it better,” Script scoffed. He glanced warily at Sunset’s hard stare, and then sighed a little. “I just have a lot on my mind. Not least of all my sister’s boyfriend holding onto my research.” He glared at Sunset, who looked back unapologetically.

“I’m not saying sorry,” she said, her voice hard.

Script shrugged. He and Sunset made their way down the centre of the market, their conversation muffled by the voices all around. “A day ago I was on my own, solving the great mystery I’ve been hunting after for years. Then you and Blue the Wonder-Serpent come along, destroy my research, and uproot me from my make-shift home. Now any hope of finishing my research lies in a cursed mare, a vengeful former-friend who has a stranglehold on my citations, and you. And I’m pretty sure that you hate me.”

Sunset blushed at this. Now that he said it, she actually came to see that she could more easily feel for his position than she’d thought. She’d been so focused on her own problems: being thrust decades into the future, Equestria being divided, Sonata turning back into a siren, and the prospect of what seemed to be a long, meandering journey, that she hadn’t really given much thought to how Script had been affected. Not that he’d given her much reason to feel empathy towards him; his obnoxious and sarcastic attitude combined with his evident disregard for the feelings of others had pitted her against him almost since the beginning.

But then, he did help us back then, when Sonata hurt her leg, Sunset thought. And he has led us here safely.

Her lips tightened a little as she considered that she herself had not made much effort to get along. They had played off of each other’s adversarial attitudes to each other; perhaps if she tried being more accommodating, he might be a little less of a... well, a little nicer himself.

“I don’t think that I hate you,” Sunset said thoughtfully. “I’ve barely known you a day.”

Script seemed surprised by this. “It’s been a long barely-a-day,” he said ruefully. Giving the stalls around him a last aggrieved look of irritation, he shook his head. “Well, I suppose there’s no sense looking if there’s nothing to find. I’ll check back tomorrow.”

“Aren’t we leaving tomorrow?” Sunset asked.

“I’d prefer to leave with what I need if it’s all the same to you,” Script said in as non-confrontational a tone as Sunset had ever heard him use. “I know that you love her and everything,” he went on, lowering his voice. “But I’d rather be always prepared when I have a cursed individual travelling with me. You never know what they might do.”

“Sonata wouldn’t do anything to put us in danger,” Sunset said, trying not to sound defensive.

“You mean like turning into an enormous sea-monster and swallowing us whole?” Script asked in an off-hand sort of way.

“She did that to save us,” Sunset reminded him.

“Yeah, and Captain Smiles too,” Script huffed. “All I’m saying is that she’s cursed. As it gets stronger, it’ll influence her more. And when the day comes that you look her dead in the eye, and she stares back with a smile on her face as she burns the world—“ he paused, hesitating. “It might not be her fault, but it’ll hurt. It’ll hurt to see what she becomes.”

With that, he turned back towards the inn, and was soon lost in the crowd.

Sunset remained stood in the middle of the market, pondering his words. A sick feeling rose in her stomach as she remembered, with horrifying clarity, the piercing reptilian eyes as Sonata had gazed down upon her in her siren form. Perhaps she was applying emotions to features that could convey no other, but just as she had then, she thought that she had seen a malevolence there, almost a hunger; as though Sunset had been nothing but a lump of meat. Nothing more.


- To be Continued