Sabbatical, or the Study of Garden Gnome Anatomy in South Perjina

by Casca

5: Vilage Conspiracy 1

The weather wasn't objectionable by any means, with a nice lot of cloud cover. Grassy hills that were equal parts tiresome and leisurely to cross had been the local flavour, along with wild daisies that were in full bloom.

Nopony else was in sight. Nopony but the two mares, making their way at a relaxed pace.

"Dead men don't tell tales," hissed a raspy voice in Starlight Glimmer's ear.

"What?" she retorted. "They do. In fact, they tell the best ones."

"Hm?" asked Sunset Shimmer.

"Nothing," said Starlight. "Those daisies weren't too bad."

"The flowers around here are a little fresher than usual," agreed Sunset.

Starlight breathed in the fresh country air. "I'm actually surprised you've gotten used to eating grass so quickly. Don't humans eat different things?"

"I was a vegan there. That means only vegetables," explained Sunset.

"The word for eating only vegetables in Humania is 'vegan'," repeated Starlight, shaking her head. "Here, it's called 'normal'. Or 'not being a barbaric second-class race'—oops—forget the second-class part."

Sunset replied with a pained smile. She had been doing that a lot lately.

"But yeah," she said, "it's not too different. Except here it's fine to eat off the ground. Over there, they have this five second rule. If it touches the ground for less than five seconds, it's still good to eat, but if it's been longer, it's contaminated."

"Contaminated?" Starlight frowned. "With what?"

"Germs," said Sunset. "You see, there are these tiny—"

"I know what germs are," said Starlight.

"Ah. Yes. You probably do," said Sunset.

"Biology's come a long way since you were last here," offered Starlight kindly. Malice free.

Not that Starlight had been evil or anything in the time Sunset had been with her. Definitely odd, odd enough to count as an acronym representing a disorder found in ten percent of children under twelve, but not evil. Just really, really odd sometimes. And the rest of the time, she was almost normal.

Truth be told, she didn't really know who Starlight was. Well, she knew who she was, but not who she was.

"You know, Starlight, I've been meaning to ask... but why did you bring me back to Equestria?"

Starlight tilted her head slightly. "Oh. Well, I knew that Princess Celestia used to have a student before Twilight. I did some research and found out it was you. I did some more research, and found out you were in Humania. So I did some calibration to Twilight's compactor, and—"

"No, no," interrupted Sunset, "not the how. You told me that before. The why."

"Zee ae bee cee," sang Starlight happily.

"Starlight." Sunset bit her lip and ran in front of her, stopping them both on an incline. "Please. I want to know. Why did you choose to bring me back here?"

"Why did you choose to be with me?" Starlight asked.

"What?" asked Sunset, stunned. "Hey. You can't ignore the question."

"You can't ignore my question either," said Starlight. "Why did you accept? I didn't drag you or anything. I thought I had to, but I didn't. You just looked at me—yeah, with that face there—and you jumped through the portal."

Sunset squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head.

"Well... you caught me at a bad time," murmured Sunset.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," said Starlight softly, placing a hoof on her shoulder.

"Would you still tell me why you brought me here, though?" asked Sunset, looking up with determination.

"Yeah." Starlight smiled honestly.

That was the word Sunset felt was best to describe it. It was an awkward sort of smile, like it was learned not from any natural instinct, but from watching other ponies, and then modelling the actions to fit it. It was controlled. It was a very good imitation. It was a perfect smile by any technical or aesthetic definition, a craft. It was called art in the same way characters in leotards froze on spongy mats was called art.

Her honest smile was when she smiled deliberately, not uncontrollably from some joke or random instance of misery. That one was her other smile, and it was not as appealing. That one was natural. But this one was honest, because Starlight wasn't the sort of pony who did things unless she wanted to. So if she did, it was because she meant it.

"I mean..." Starlight shrugged. "I told you that I looked you up, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I wanted to do something that would tick Twilight Sparkle off. You know, like really, really annoy her. But I couldn't get my hooves on the Elixir of Black to undo Discord's conversion, or any information on Tartarus at all... Besides, letting those two loose would probably ruin the point of my sabbatical." Starlight did shrugs really well. "Then I realized that you were the one! Let's free a prisoner that Celestia banished! And I know that she's your friend, so she'll feel extra guilty about wanting you banished again. But she has to find you and banish you, because it's by Celestia's law." She clapped her hooves together gleefully. "You were literally the perfect trigger."

Sunset thought over that for a while. Knowing what she knew about Starlight, that made sense.

"Though," Sunset added, a little ruefully, "me and Twilight are more of acquaintances at this point. I don't think she cares as much as you think. We haven't spoken to each other in a long time."

"Hum? But didn't you have that magic book? The connected one?"

"Yeah, well..." Sunset looked into the distance. The hills really did stretch on forever. Either they were near the coastline, or this was a very wide stretch in between the mountain ranges. "Something happened. A while back. I learned that sometimes I just had to rely on myself." Sunset tried to smile, she really did. "Since then, I've stopped talking to her. Twilight's not a crutch. And... it's not like we have much to say, you know. What with her being a princess here, and me being over there." Sunset did not dare to look at Starlight. "And we already have our own version of Twilight. It gets a bit awkward, you know, talking to two people who are the same, but not really. Heh heh."

Probing. Digging. Still not malicious whatsoever. It had to be concern of a sort, even if it was stilted. Then Starlight's eyes eased up. Mercy.

"Yeah," Starlight said at last, "Twilight can be a real ********** every now and then."

"Uh, excuse me?" Sunset blurted.

"You know. **********." Starlight giggled. "When a &&&& and a %%%%% @#$%, and the result *#&$ with another &%^#*, you get **********."

"That's... wow." Sunset shivered. "I don't know what to say."

"It's a bit elaborate, I know," conceded Starlight. "To be honest, it loses a lot of meaning outside the context of the Southeast."

"I'll take your word for it," said Sunset, waving a hoof. "Shall we continue?"

"Sure," said Starlight.

---

viLaGE 300m NORF

The post was a rotting mess of worm-eaten wood, the words faded from the rough belly rubs of time. It punctuated their otherwise silent trek to nowhere in particular.

Sunset raised her head and squinted. There wasn't anything three hundred meters ahead but more abandoned terrain.

"I think," said Starlight, "the sign meant to read east."

Sunset turned accordingly.

"No, no, the other east."

Sunset turned accordingly, and saw a river—what had been one, at least. It looked like just a dry bank now, but she could tell that there was a difference in the grass there and everywhere else.

"You want to check it out?" asked Sunset.

"Could be fun," said Starlight.