The Prodigal Daughter

by Sixes_And_Sevens

The Prodigal Daughter Goes Through the Looking-Glass

Entry 193: Ran into Principal Celestia the other day. She was acting really weird. Like, ‘Twilight-go-check-that-your-side’s-Celestia-hasn’t-snuck-through-the-mirror’ weird. She kept asking me about my parents and apologizing. Then she hugged me and promised that she would make everything right. So… that’s good? I get the sense that this means something really bad for me, though. I legally don’t exist over here. The main reason I got into high school was because I bribed my landlady to pretend to be my mom in exchange for my doing the dishes every night.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure something really big is about to go down. So, be on your guard.

-Sunset

“Okay,” Flash said. He was calm, almost forcibly so. “I’ve reached the floor. I’d recommend trying to jump if you want to keep from tossing your cookies.”

Twilight frowned. “Why would we do— ugh!” This was followed by the thump of a body against the floor, followed by a weak moan.

Sunset decided that it was probably wisest not to question things too terribly much and, squeezing Fluttershy’s hand for a moment, leapt forward. There was a brief moment of vertigo, as though the world were twisting and then she landed and everything was stable once more. She opened her eyes. Flash was leaned against a wall, staring at the others sympathetically. Fluttershy was sprawled on the floor. Apparently she’d not jumped when Sunset had. Twilight had curled up on the floor, whimpering and clutching at her stomach. “I hate this house,” she groaned.

Sunset took Fluttershy by the hand and helped her to her feet. She turned to do the same for Twilight, but the girl groaned and waved her away. “Oh, wow,” Fluttershy murmured. “This is nice…”

It was a pretty nice room, Sunset agreed. The bed was made reasonably neatly, though one of the corners of the quilt had been thrown roughly aside. The curtains were of a thin golden chintz material that caught the light and lit the room with a bright, friendly glow. The nightstand held a small lamp shaped like a tortoise, an alarm clock, a phone charger that had been electrical-taped in several places, and a handful of framed photos, most of which consisted of familiar faces. One or two, however, were a tad more uncanny. The principal and her sister dressed in flowing, regal regalia and looking far younger than any of the assembled had ever seen them. An older Fluttershy, roughly in her late twenties, was wearing coveralls and galoshes, while someone that closely resembled the superintendent photobombed her from the bushes. A similarly older Rarity stood on a catwalk, a large purple dog at her side. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.

“So… those are the other versions of you guys?” Sunset guesses cautiously.

Flash nodded. “Yeah. ‘parently, I’m a royal guard on the other side, which is… cool, I guess. I don’t think Sunset ever got a picture of me, though.” He winced. “Uh, the other one.”

Sunset chuckled. “Yeah, I figured.” She glanced up. “Were you… close?”

Flash waved a hand vaguely. “You could say that. We dated for a little while. We broke up, pretty messily. Then we sort of made friends again.” He picked up a little statuette, examining it minutely.

“I was kinda hoping we could try again,” he said, voice and eyes distant. “Guess it’s too late, now.”

“Guess so,” Twilight agreed, her eyes flicking over to the new Sunset.

Fluttershy glanced around and realized that she was the only one still looking around the room for… for… “Um, guys?”

She shrunk under the sudden pressure of three intense gazes being fixed on her. “What’s wrong, Fluttershy?” Twilight asked.

“Well, I guess I was just wondering, um, what we were looking for.”

“Oh, well,” Twilight said. “We’re looking for… for…” she trailed off.

Sunset stared at the purple girl. “You’re kidding. You don’t even know why we’re here?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead!” Twilight replied, defensive. “But this is the best place to go to if we’re going to figure out… Sunset,” she finished lamely.

Flash closed his eyes tightly and sat down on the bed. “Please, please tell me that we aren’t playing hooky for no reason,” he said.

“We aren’t playing hooky for no reason,” Sunset said.

“Is that true?”

“No.”

“Yes it is,” Twilight said, turning towards the bookshelf. “There’s a reason we came here! I know there is! I wouldn’t have suggested it without a reason, would I?”

“So what is it?” Sunset snapped. “What’s so special about this place? What’s so important about this other Sunset? What makes her better than me? Why did we come here, Twilight?”

“Um,” said Fluttershy. “I think we’re here to… say goodbye.”

The silence was deadening. Slowly, glacially, Sunset turned to face Fluttershy. “What.”

The yellow girl squeaked. “Twilight-had-a-crush-on-Sunset!”

“What?” Twilight yelped. “I did not!”

“Yes-you-did!”

“You did,” Flash agreed.

Sunset sucked in her lower lip. “Um, based on how you’ve been acting around me, I’m going to say that you did.”

Twilight looked stricken. “No! I don’t have a crush on Sunset or Flash! I decided I didn’t!”

“When did I come into this equation?” Flash asked, brows cinching.

“You didn’t! Neither did Sunset! There was no equation! I don’t have crushes, and I definitely didn't try to mathematically determine who I wanted to date!”

Sunset stared. “Hey, Twilight.”

The bespectacled girl looked up, wary. “Yeah?”

“You’re cute.”

Twilight went red, her glasses fogging up.

Sunset nodded. “Okay, that’s one crush established. Flash, you wanna try two for two?”

The blue-haired boy stared at Twilight for a long moment. “I think that might be a conversation for another time,” he said, crossing one leg awkwardly over the other.

Sunset smirked slightly. “Alright, fine. We can talk later. For now… I guess what we’re really all here for is closure, right?” She glanced around. “Anyone want to share a few words?”

Twilight flushed and muttered, “No, I couldn’t possibly…”

Fluttershy’s reaction was much the same. Sunset turned to Flash. “How ‘bout you, Ponyboy?”

“Hey!” Flash objected. “Just because my last two girlfriends were extradimensional horses—”

“Easy, tiger. I was referencing the Outsiders. Though, I guess you look more like a “Johnny” than a Ponyboy…”

“Oh.” Flash scratched his head, face reddening. “Right.”

“Extradimensional horses?”

“They looked human at the time, alright?”

Sunset snickered. “Yeah, sure. But your nickname is definitely Ponyboy now, you greaser.”

Flash sighed. “Fine. I’m not much good with words, but…” He pulled a candy-cherry red guitar off the wall and tossed the strap over his torso.

Sunset raised a brow. “That’s… convenient.”

“I met Sunset at guitar lessons,” Flash said with a shrug, idly strumming and tuning the instrument. “It’s kinda poetic, I guess.” He let his fingertips wash over the strings, producing a quiet chord, which turned into the start of a melody. For a long several seconds, the room was quiet and still apart from the sweet, smooth music.

And that’s when the explosion went off.

There was a long, terrible silence. “Should I finish this later?” Flash suggested, tentatively.

“Go!” Twilight yelled, already passing over the threshold of the room.

***

Trixie rushed into the library, visibly relaxing when she saw a familiar face. “Oh, Trixie’s word. Oh, Trixie’s goodness. Things are going crazy around here!”

“Yes. Yes, I know.” The voice was Sunset’s, but at the same time, it was foreign. It was smoother, richer than the tremorous defiance of earlier. It was the voice of one who knows exactly what is going on— and likes where it’s headed.

“...Sunset?” Trixie asked nervously.

The orange mare grinned through grit teeth and tight lips, more a snarl than a smile. “Trixie,” she said.

“Are you… well?”

Sunset’s smile widened. “Never better.”

“And— you’re settling in well?” Trixie asked. She knew better than to show fear— the audiences would have eaten her alive for it, and she doubted that this— this thing in Sunset’s body would be any different.

“Settling in… well, there are a few concerns I have,” Sunset said, tilting her head as though in thought. “Firstly, the decor.”

The soft, purple crystal walls of the room flared for a moment, then settled down into an angry, almost rapacious shade of orange, lurid and hungry. “Second, there’s the matter of the household staff,” Sunset continued.

Bonds of magic encircled Trixie from head to hoof. Sunset grinned, her eyes sparkling with dangerous beauty, not unlike a forest fire. Lazily, she walked around the bound unicorn. “You know, you really aren’t so bad. It really is a pity. As I was saying, I’m having a bit of difficulty settling in. There’s just one more teeny little thing.”

“What might that be?” Trixie asked warily.

Sunset sighed theatrically. “Well, as you may have noticed, I’m having a little bit of trouble making friends.”

Trixie cocked her head. “You… want Trixie to help you make friends with the townsponies?”

Sunset shook her head. “Nothing so mundane. Come.”

She looped a tendril of magic around Trixie and yanked her bodily out of the library.

***

Celestia was absolutely silent. Her fingers were steepled in front of her cold eyes, and yet she gazed, completely unobstructed, at the eight teenagers sitting before her. She let out a long, low hiss of breath. She leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table. “Right. I would like an explanation.”

Cornicle looked down at his shoes. Kevin had pulled his Stetson over his face. Ditto and Doppelgang began to whistle loudly. Pharynx turned to his younger brother. “Well? Tell her.”

Thorax shifted in his seat. “Well… She offered to pay us…”

Celestia waved this off. “I don’t want to know why you did it. I don’t particularly care why you did it. I want to know why eight of my students are missing, and where they are now!”

“O-oh,” Thorax stammered. “Um. She told us it was a magic problem again, real end-of-the-world stuff.”

Celestia sighed and pinched her brow. “Okay. Okay. I can see why you would all believe that. That doesn’t mean you aren’t all going to be in detention for a week, but I do understand where you’re coming from. Did they perhaps mention where this end-of-world scenario would be taking place? No? Did they mention what it was, or how they knew about it?” Suddenly springing to life, the principal rose to her feet and threw open the blinds. The sky was clear and blue. Birds sang overhead. The world looked completely fine.

“You’ve been played,” she said, turning back to the eight teens. “The world isn’t ending. So, please, if they told you anything else, I need to know what they said. I need…” she sighed. “My daughter is out there. I need you to tell me where she is.”

There was a long moment. “They said they had the wrong Sunset,” said Buzz after a long moment, his lilac facepaint running down his cheeks. “They said they saw her run through the mirror portal.”

And just like that, Celestia’s heart stopped. Something in her brain shifted out of the way and let the truth, the obvious truth, flow through. The papers that had told her Sunset had grown up in an orphanage in Washington hadn’t been wrong, they were about the wrong Sunset. The girl’s confusion during their conversation about Sunset’s parents hadn’t been feigned, she had been talking to the wrong Sunset. How had she not realized this already? The mental gymnastics she'd done to make sense of all this would have put gold medal Olympians to shame. Which, in Celestia's experience, could mean only one thing-- magical interference.

“Oh no,” Celestia murmured. “No, no, no, I’ve gotten it all wrong. I have to find Sunset.” She pushed her way toward the office doors. And that’s when the explosion went off.

“I’ve gotten it all wrong!”

***

Trixie was bound tightly by Sunset’s magic, unable to speak, let alone move. Whatever spell this was seemed to be keeping her in some sort of stasis, rendering her conscious without need of breathing or blinking— did she need food? water? sleep? She had a nasty feeling she would soon be finding out. She was thankful, at least, that she was still allowed to see and hear what was going on, though for the last several minutes, it had just been Sunset, running hither and thither around the storeroom, connecting various pieces of machinery and arcane devices to the mirror portal. Her mane had frizzed oddly, looking less like hair and more and more similar to an inferno. The room was illuminated by an unsettling scarlet glow, coming from an unknown source. It felt like it should have physically hurt to look at. Perhaps it did, and her nerves just hadn’t caught up yet.

She barely noticed Sunset’s ranting anymore either— she’d kept up a continual rambling chatter ever since she’d left the library, stuff about how her friends would be coming by and how much they would have to talk about and that the conjunction of universes would come and reality itself would warp before the power of friendship. Honestly, it had been a little unnerving to hear, sort of like if Twilight had gone megalomaniacal. As though in response to that very thought, Twilight herself came crashing through the door.

For the briefest of instants, Trixie’s heart leapt. Twilight could help— she’d know what to do. Then, the princess raised her head and Trixie’s heart stopped. Actually, it might have already stopped, she’d not felt a pulse for the entire time. But even if she hadn’t been in stasis, she probably would have been frozen to the spot, caught in the unnatural glare that now transfixed her. This was not Twilight. Her eyes glowed a brilliant blue. Her mane looked electrically charged. Her face was cold and drawn. The few seconds that her gaze spent on Trixie seemed to drag out for years. At long last, the thing in the princess’s body glanced away to look at Sunset. “Is it ready?” she demanded. “Can we begin the study?”

“Patience,” Sunset scolded. “Let’s not forget, I’ve taken you down and brought you back. I am the one in charge of this operation.”

Twilight-thing sighed. “Fine. I need to build a new thaumic collector anyway, the last one was stolen by this dimension’s Rarity.”

Sunset shrugged. “She and her friends will be here soon enough. You can just take it back then.”

“They’ve probably taken out my first specimen, too,” the alicorn grumbled.

Sunset let out an impatient growl. “Once we breach the borders, you can have all the specimens you want,” she said shortly. “Speaking of which…”

Trixie was yanked across the room until she was staring right into Sunset’s aqua eyes. They glared at each other for several seconds. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Sunset said, eyes softening subtly. “I could really have gotten to like you. You’re much nicer than my Trixie.” Her eyes went hard again. “Unfortunately, we needed somepony unaffected by the mirror’s magic to bridge the divide and, well, you were convenient.”

She was telling the truth. Trixie wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. On the one hoof, apparently she and Sunset were sort of friends now. On the other hoof, it sounded Sunset was apparently going to kill her— OH CELESTIA NO NO NO DON’T KILL TRIXIE, NO NO!

Her silent screaming did absolutely nothing as the mirror portal began to spark and shimmer, glowing unnaturally as she drew nearer and nearer to it. It was dazzlingly bright— she would have shut her eyes, if she could. Her horn was touching the surface now, through the surface now, and the rest of her was following. The whole thing felt rather like being drunk. Through a straw. Bits of Trixie flickered and fluctuated, now hooves and horn, now hands and hair. Then her head passed through the mirror, and Trixie knew no more.

***

The Doctor peered around a corner. “I do believe— we’ve lost her,” he wheezed.

“Thank heavens,” Rarity sighed, leaning against a wall. “I simply don’t know what could have come over her.”

“What’s come over who?”

The Doctor and Rarity cried out in alarm, spinning around only to see Fluttershy, who was even more shocked than they were. “Oh my! Are you alright?”

“I— yes, thank you, darling,” Rarity said, clutching a hoof over her chest. Spike whined and licked her face gently. “Where’s Discord gotten to?”

“Boo!” a voice whispered in her ear.

Rarity didn’t even flinch. “Ah, there you are,” she said, turning around.

The chaos spirit pouted. “What, so now I’m not even a scary as my dear Flutterbuddy? You wound me, Rarity, really you do. So! We got chased by a trio of angry a cappella singers, but we shoved them in a closet. What’s new with you?”

Rarity took a deep breath. “I believe Twilight has been affected by our mysterious new chaos god,” she said. “She tried to trap us in this device.”

“Well, it’s about time,” Discord chuckled idly, levitating the compact up to eye level and examining it closely. “I always thought she was a little too tightly wound to avoid snapping like a twig sooner or later.”

“Discord, that’s not very nice,” Fluttershy scolded.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Rarity noted. “Do the words ‘Smarty Pants’ ring a bell? Though I must say, even by that standard, this is beyond the pale”

“I’ll say,” Discord agreed, studying the compact more closely. “This looks like it was designed to capture living beings— it’s one of those ‘bigger on the inside’ things that folks make such a fuss about.”

The Doctor snorted. “I seem to recall that you yourself had something of an awed response to my ship when you first saw it, hm?”

Fluttershy hovered over Discord’s shoulder. “Is— is there anypony in there?”

A long silence followed that remark. “Twilight was trying to capture us…” Rarity said slowly. “Something about data points. I don’t believe anypony else was mentioned.”

“Well, it won’t hurt to check,” Fluttershy reasoned.

Discord pulled out a jeweler’s loupe seemingly from nowhere and peered at the catch. “Hm.” They tapped at it with one hoof. “I wish I had sleeves,” they said idly. “I’d be rolling them up about now. Aaanyway, stand back! I’m not a mechanic but I once saw one on TV.”

“Tea— what?” Rarity murmured, eyebrows furrowing.

Fluttershy shrugged. “I don’t know either. They talk about it a lot, though. Apparently, it shows you reality and operas about soap.”

Discord gently poked the sides of the device. Nothing happened. They nodded, and suddenly smashed it against the ground. “NO!” the Doctor shrieked, lunging forward only to be caught in the face with what felt like a metric ton of whipped cream.

Where the compact had been, a pink pony now stood, looking mildly stunned and extremely exhilarated. “Wowee! Can we do that again?”

“How— what— you— you hooligan! Have you any idea what that could have done?” the Doctor exploded, gesticulating wildly with his walking stick. “Come to that, what did you do, hm? By rights, breaking that should have quite destroyed the universe!”

Discord looked like the cat that had just won an all-you-can-eat canary buffet. “Why, my dear Doctor, I’m surprised you didn’t think of it yourself; I reversed the polarity of the neutron flow, thus making the device much smaller on the inside and causing it to eject objects rather than absorb them.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! Neutrons aren’t even polarized, and even if they were—” An alabaster hoof quickly forced itself into his mouth.

“Be glad it works, darling,” Rarity hissed. “If too many questions are asked, the universe at large gets, shall we say, suspicious, and comes down like a ton of bricks on whatever is going on.”

“What is going on?” Pinkie asked, glancing at the walls around her. “And when did Twilight redecorate?”

As one, they all looked to see what Pinkie meant. “Oh, dear!” Fluttershy gasped. “I don’t like that…”

The castle itself seemed to burn with its own inner fire from the lowest dungeon rooms to the highest spires, lit as tragically and furiously as a dying star.

***

Trixie blinked awake. Was she awake? It was hard to say. Her eyes felt glazed and her tongue felt like thick cloth, dry and unresponsive. She noticed, vaguely, that the orange stasis spell had disappeared. Unfortunately, she found that she was still hardly able to move at all. With great effort, she rolled her eyes down to see in front of her. Her hooves were distorted, having grown bumps and tendrils which pulsated and writhed in and out, unsure of how they were meant to be. Her innards seemed to be jostling for superiority. Her eyes were different sizes and positions. Worst of all, she thought distantly, her hat had fallen off. She could feel herself slipping back into unconsciousness, the strain on her body proving too much for her mind. Just before she lost all consciousness, however, a loud explosion, like the fracture of glass amplified a thousandfold, echoed behind/in front of/beside her— and then everything went black.

***

The van skidded around a corner, Dash’s knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. The girls clung to seats and straps and one another as their driver took a too-tight corner at nearly fifty miles an hour. Other cars were a non-issue. Most had pulled off to the side of the road after the earth-shattering kaboom. The school was only a couple blocks away, now. The world looked oddly flat and warped, like a canvas left too long in the sun. Fluttershy stared up at the sky. Was it her imagination, or were faint white fracture lines fading into existence overhead? She whimpered and stared firmly down at the floor.

Flash skidded into the parking lot, burning rubber behind him. “Right. Everybody out!” he shouted, throwing open the driver’s door.

Rarity clambered out of her seat and froze, breathless. “My word,” she murmured, with the tone of someone who has never cussed in her life and is very determined not to start now.

A ray of brilliant white light shone up to the sky from the Wondercolts statue, a corona of a thousand colors overhead. The world looked thin, like cloth stretched far too far. And lying prone halfway through the portal was a figure, pale blue and hideously malformed, shifting between one thing and another.

***

Sunset and Midnight Sparkle watched in fascination for several minutes as Trixie’s back legs morphed between human feet and pony hooves. A twinge of guilt passed over Sunset, but it was quickly suppressed.

Inside Midnight’s head, she could feel her host screaming, lashing out against the walls of the mental construct that held her. She shook her head to quell the revolt within. “Soon,” Midnight said, grinning. Soon, she meant to say, she would have all the knowledge in the universe— an eternity to study the dimensional portal from both sides of the divide.

“Not long now,” Sunset agreed. Not long, she attempted to imply, before she could reunite with her friends once more.

The mirror had begun to subtly shift, thin white lines indicating the strain that it was undergoing. Midnight turned to Sunset thoughtfully. “What do you suppose will happen to her when it cracks?”

Sunset paused. That hadn’t been part of the plan. She found thinking about it oddly distressing. “Don’t,” a voice in her head whispered. “Stop it! This isn’t you!”

Sunset blinked firmly once or twice. Wasn’t her? Preposterous. She just wanted to see her friends again, and nothing and nopony would stand in her way. She glanced back at Trixie. She saw the mare refusing to tolerate her tantrums, introducing her to new friends, helping her reconnect with the friends she’d left behind…

No! Sunset felt unstable, like she’d taken one step too many on a staircase. Her head was pounding— or— or— was that the door?

She turned around as a party of ponies crashed through the entrance. “Sunset Shimmer!” Rarity cried, eyes sparking with anger. “Stop this at once!”

“No,” Sunset said. “No, I can’t. You aren’t even the real Rarity.” Drunkenly, she raised a hoof to point at the albicant unicorn. “You’re a cheap knockoff brand!”

The unicorn gasped and recoiled in horror.

The Doctor stepped forward. "Miss Shimmer. I suspected something like this," he said. He raised a brow. "Do you recognize me now, madam?"

"Doctor Turner," Sunset said with a nod. "I see that you've at least had the decency to return to your proper form."

"Decency, madam? There is nothing decent about what you are doing here." The Doctor raised a hoof to grasp his lapel, then realized he wasn't wearing his suit jacket and fumbled awkwardly.

"Um," Fluttershy said. "What exactly are you doing?"

The Doctor nodded, still holding a hoof to his chest. "A good question, my dear! Yes indeed. What are you doing, hm? And why are you doing it? Why create all this-- this madness?"

Sunset flinched back at that last word, but then drew herself to her full height. "What I do, Doctor, I do in the name of friendship. I will not harm those dear to me, not on either side of the mirror. I will bring together both universes, layering one atop the other." She smiled. "It's truly the best of both worlds."

The Doctor dropped his hoof back to the floor with a heavy thump. "What you do, you young fool, risks the lives of everyone in two universes! 'Layer them atop one another'-- I've never heard such tripe! Even if you could perform such a feat, they would corrupt one another almost instantaneously. Twilight Sparkle told me earlier about your dealings with magical waste thrown through the mirror. Ponyville has been thrown on its ear by the introduction of human artifacts and concepts spilling through to Equestria! How do you think humans will deal with dragons and timberwolves, or ponies with tanks and planes?"

As the Doctor spoke on, Sunset's face twisted into a scowl. "I will protect them," she said. "I will protect my friends from any kind of harm, and right now, that includes you. Mindight, keep them at bay."

Midnight glowered and strode forwards. “My compact. Give it to me, and I will let you live. Otherwise… well, I do need subjects for dissection, as well.”

“Oh, did you want it back?” Discord asked mildly. “Sorry, it broke. Butterhooves me!” they chuckled.

Midnight’s jaw dropped. “You— you— you what?” she asked, outraged. “That was the most advanced technology this world has ever seen, and you BROKE IT?”

The Doctor snorted. “Advanced, my child? I could’ve built that when I was eight.”

Midnight ignored him, striding instead at Discord. The unicorn’s grin turned nervous. “Ah, you wouldn’t hit a pony with glasses, would you?” they asked, summoning a pair of spectacles to rest on their nose.

Midnight reared back, her horn glowing bright blue. Discord ran under her legs, straight at the portal. “No!” Sunset cried. “You can’t take her out of there! You'll ruin everything!”

Fluttershy frowned, confused. “Take who out of where?” she wondered aloud. There was nothing there but a flat mirror.

Comments

[Coyote de La Mancha]

Discord looked like the cat that had just won an all-you-can-eat canary buffet. “Why, my dear Doctor, I’m surprised you didn’t think of it yourself; I reversed to polarity of the neutron flow, thus making the device much smaller on the inside and causing it to eject objects rather than absorb them.”

This is a truly golden moment.

(There is a small typo, I think... unless it was deliberate? ...reversed to polarity of the neutron flow...)

I generally try to comment on the things I love most in a story, or the things that stand out the most... there has been too much good in this one for me to do that effectively.

[Shilic]

Knowing him, I'm surprised Discord didn't skip reversing the polarity and jump straight to confusing the polarity. But in that case, we wouldn't get the First Doctor's confusion at what was most probably just an attempt by his third incarnation to either confuse anyone trying to figure out what he was actually doing or just something he thought sounded cool.