• Published 13th Dec 2017
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On Shimmering Steel - Clay Pigeon



Eight long years of conflict & war, all spent a þousand years in ðe past – all brought to æn end by ðe combat-obsessed warlord Apollyon. Now, the Warden has returned to her own time & must reacquaint herself with the life she left behind…

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Chapter II – Return

Chapter II – Return

The Warden’s mind was floatiŋ through a primordial expanse of nothiŋness. There was no sight, no smell, no sense of touch.

Is this what beiŋ dead is like? She felt a bit bemused. Yet my senses fail me. Why? Should I not be ascendiŋ the stairway to heaven, fated to forever siŋ amongst the choir invisible?

“ Sunset… ”

There was a noise.

Why is there noise? The girl thought. This existence had been in silence so far – why the sudden change?

“Sunset…”

A voice. Yes, she could tell it was a voice now; so familiar to her, and at the same time so utterly strange, as if she had heard it loŋ ago. It was calliŋ her birth name; a name she had not used in many years.

A flicker of amusement flared within the Warden’s mind. The spirits of Heaven were tryiŋ to briŋ her over to the next life if she had to guess. Heariŋ her nearly-forgotten birth name beiŋ so carelessly thrown about was such a curious feeliŋ though, for no one had spoken that name in a loŋ time, only calliŋ her by her title: the Warden.

And yet, as the Warden lamented, the voice was becomiŋ louder.

“Sunset, wake up! It’s morniŋ!”

What?

All at once, the Warden’s senses came floodiŋ back like waves filliŋ up holes in the sand. For a moment, the knight did nothiŋ. Rather, she simply allowed her eyes to remain at rest, content to simply feel her surroundiŋs. She was in a bed, that much was clear – admittedly, it was a much more comfortable bed than what she was used to. She’d likely be sleepiŋ on the floor for a while.

Surprisiŋly, it was Sunset’s body that felt the strangest to the former knight. She still felt the aches and tiredness of battle, yet at the same time, inexplicably rejuvenated. She still felt the streŋgth and resilience of her muscular form, a forced adaptation to the harsh world of the eleventh century. However, she almost felt too stroŋ, as if she was not meant to be as physically capable as she was.

Finally exposiŋ her cyan eyes to the open air, Sunset saw that she was draped in a soft linen blanket. Pulliŋ it aside to reveal her nude body, she saw that she still bore the same scars she had carried for many years; a new one screamed a bright red down her left shoulder, a painful reminder of a blade as jagged and cruel as the warlord who’d wielded it.

Confused beyond belief, Sunset tore her eyes away from her scarred and muscled body and looked around the room, and her jaw nearly hit the floor.

No… this cannot be, she thought in disbelief.

She was in her old room in Celestia’s house. Her walls were colored a brilliant teal, her Rainbooms poster plastered right next to her closet. Her closet door stood ajar, revealiŋ her wardrobe of magenta and teal, directly opposite to the door on the wall to her right. “Sunset, I know today’s a late start,” the voice called again, “but that still means you have to actually get up.” She heard footsteps comiŋ up the stairs, the floorboards creakiŋ against the person’s shoes. The door opened a crack and an off-white face peeked through, framed by glimmeriŋ rainbow hair. Her magenta gaze met Sunset’s own cyan eyes, and Sunset was stunned still.

Her mother, on the other hand, was glariŋ at her with light-hearted sternness. “Come on Sunset. I’ve got breakfast on the table and it’s gettiŋ cold.”

Celestia waited a moment before she noticed her daughter’s stunned expression and the absolute stillness of the room. “Sunset?” she asked, her voice now laced with concern. “Is everythiŋ alright?”

Rather than answer, Sunset could not help but see if this scenario she found herself in was real with her own two hands. She stood up, grabbiŋ the sheets to cover her scarred body, and slowly walked over to the door. Her hand reachiŋ out to rest on her mother’s forearm, Sunset Shimmer finally spoke aloud the siŋgle word she had so loŋed to say for many years.

“Mom.”

Celestia opened her mouth to repeat her question when she found her waist enveloped in the most heartfelt hug Sunset had ever given. She was surprised at first, and her body went rigid; she soon softened, however, and returned the gesture.

“Sunset,” Celestia’s voice came again, breakiŋ the silence. “Did you not sleep well last night?” The fiery-haired teen looked up at Celestia in confusion. Her mother’s face bore no expression of relief at her return, only a look of concern as if Sunset had indeed slept poorly the previous night. In fact, it seemed that Celestia did not realize Sunset had ever been absent in the first place. If I must hazard a guess, she thought, I’d be inclined to believe that the Lord has returned me to my time in the same night as my departure from it. Sunset gave an internal sigh, a mental smirk blanketiŋ her mind in sarcasm. How kind and considerate for the Lord above to do so.

Estimatiŋ that she indeed had never been absent from the rest of the world's’ perspective, Sunset quickly backed away from her adopted mother, realiziŋ that such a profound relief at seeiŋ Celestia again would seem strange. “Never mind,” she said, hopiŋ to brush it aside. “Just a weird dream.”

Celestia gave her a disbelieviŋ look but smiled and nodded. “If you’re sure,” she said, soundiŋ entirely unconvinced as she went back downstairs. “Breakfast is ready, by the way. We’re haviŋ French toast.” At the mentioniŋ of those words, Sunset’s face lit up in a smile.

“Sounds good,” she responded, walkiŋ over to her closet in order to put on somethiŋ a bit more normal for once. However, as she discarded her bed sheet, a glint caught her eye, and she knew that this demanded her immediate attention.

At the foot of her bed, glintiŋ in the morniŋ sun, lay her armor in a pile of padded cloth and dented steel.

Sunset’s mind started raciŋ. Why was her armor here‽ This didn’t make any sense! She’d thought that her spirit had been sent back in time, not her physical form! How could her armor possibly be here, literally a thousand years after it had protected her last‽

She took a deep breath to calm herself. Calm down, Sunset thought, attemptiŋ to clear her mind. Whether it made sense or not, her body had been sent back aloŋ with her spirit, and her armor was here; these facts, she could not change. However, she could definitely do somethiŋ about it now. But what to do?

Decidiŋ the simplest solution was probably the best, Sunset grabbed the pile of cloth and armor and shoved as far under her bed as she could. It wasn’t much, and it definitely wouldn’t last forever, but it would buy her enough time to figure out somethiŋ better. Turniŋ back to her closet, she grabbed one of her more normal outfits and threw it on. It didn’t feel quite right, but she ignored the chill runniŋ down her spine and made for the kitchen, intent on enjoyiŋ her breakfast before it had an opportunity to cool further. Her boots clacked against the hardwood floor as she ran into the kitchen, attractiŋ the attention of her aunt.

“Mixiŋ it up today?” Luna inquired, her cocked head exhibitiŋ her intrigue as she paused from her own breakfast. Suppressiŋ her immense joy from seeiŋ her aunt again at the last possible second, Sunset examined her choice of attire, which she admittedly hadn’t paid much attention to when she’d thrown it on a moment before. Her trademark leather jacket fell over a magenta top with her cutie mark emblazoned on the front. Combined with her yellow-streaked orange skirt, she realized she donned an outfit nearly identical to the one she wore prior to her reformation.

Whoops.

“Looks good on you,” Luna said, haltiŋ her niece’s thoughts. Now that Sunset thought about it, she no loŋger felt any attachment to this outfit; it was no loŋger a painful reminder of who she used to be. Now, it was just a set of clothes: a magenta top and orange skirt, nothiŋ more.

However, as she began to think about it, that fact began to unnerve her, makiŋ her feel slightly on edge. So familiar was she with gambeson tunics, with chainmail hauberks and plates of fitted steel, that haviŋ naught but simple cloth and thin leather as protection left Sunset feeliŋ… exposed, naked even.

Yet another thiŋ the former Warden would have to re-familiarize herself with.

Sunset pushed that thought aside, certain that she would simply get used to it. For now, she had much more important thiŋs to worry about.

Thiŋs which could wait until after breakfast. Sunset thought as she saw the plate of french toast placed in front of her, her mouth beginniŋ to water. “Gratias pro caveris me,” she muttered under her breath as she tore into the delicacy, cuttiŋ up several pieces to be consumed.

It was the most delicious thiŋ Sunset had ever eaten. Syrup dripped down her chin as she shoved piece after piece into her mouth, savoriŋ the taste of egg as butter slid down her throat. Oh, how she had missed the taste of French toast.

“Sunset, come on!” Celestia’s voice from down the hall, pulliŋ her out of her euphoria. “I know you love French toast, but we’re goiŋ to be late for school!”

Uh oh. In her delight, Sunset had completely forgotten about Canterlot High. Her shoulder slumped under her leather jacket. She felt completely unprepared. Stormiŋ onto the battlefield with a significant risk of pain or death, that she could handle. She wasn’t ready to go back to Canterlot High.

Then again, had she been ready when she first defeated Ademar and been recruited into the Blackstone Legion? Had she been ready when she faced down Jarl Guðmundr? Had she been ready when she stormed the Blackstone castle and slew Apollyon herself?

No… she hadn’t.

Shruggiŋ, she got up from the table, grabbiŋ her backpack on the way out the door. She would have to deal with thiŋs as they were dealt to her. She had done so in Ashfeld, and she would do so here.

She slid into the car, swiŋiŋ her backpack around to rest on her lap. It was time to return to Canterlot High.

Author's Note:

For those of you who are wonderiŋ (Yes, all two of you), this story has Sunset as the adopted daughter of Principal Celestia. I’d recommend readiŋ the story Finding Home by Cirrus Sky, as while I wouldn’t consider it canon to On Shimmering Steel, the basic points leadiŋ up to Sunset’s adoption in this story are pretty much the same beat for beat.

Translations:

  • Latin: “Gratias pro caveris me” – Latin for “Thaŋks for takiŋ care of me.” –
  • Icelandic: “Ég ríf þig í bita!” – Icelandic for “I’ll tear you to pieces!” Spoken by the female Raider duriŋ their Unblockable Fury attack.
    This was the original line before I realized that, as a Warden of the Iron Legion, Sunset probably didn’t speak Icelandic; at least, not well enough to use it in common speak.
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