SAPR

by Scipio Smith

A Matter of Pride (New)

A Matter of Pride

The moon was out, and the stars surrounded her like courtiers around a princess as Beacon lay smothered beneath the shroud of night.

The lights of the Emerald Tower glowed softly in the sky high above the ground and were answered from an even greater height by the pilot lights of an Atlesian man-of-war holding position not far off the docking pads.

Fortunately, there were no smaller airships out flying patrol over Beacon at the moment and disturbing the air in consequence. It meant that, as Sunset sat out beneath the statue of the huntsman, the huntress, and the beowolf, she was not constantly disturbed by the whining of engines. Nor by any other sound; it was Thursday evening, dinner was done, and it was a school night – albeit the night before a shorter school day – and so there was no one around to bother her. Everyone was in their dorms, beavering away upon Professor Port’s homework.

Right now, she had other opponents on her mind than the grimm.

Bolin Hori had delivered his challenge. Sunset had accepted, of course; she had promised that she would, and she was a mare of her word; at least, she tried to be. It didn’t matter if she had given that word only in the presence of her three teammates; it was still her word nonetheless, and she had given it. She had given it, and she would hold to it.

Much though she might regret it now.

Bolin was not a poor choice on the part of Phoebe Kommenos. With his great store of aura alone, he might be able to withstand her long enough to beat her down, all the more so if she insisted on facing him with her sword instead of her magic.

Pyrrha was right; it wasn’t her strong suit. And yet, at the same time, it felt… wrong, somehow, to fight for the sword and yet not fight with the sword. Why did she deserve Soteria if she disdained to fight with it?

What was the good of fighting with Soteria only to lose it through incompetence?

Especially when the sword was hardly hers to lose.

That was why she was out here in the courtyard, instead of in the dorm room with the rest of them.

Her friends. Those who lifted her up. Those whom she let down.

The potential loss of Soteria was only one reason why she was here; the other reason, and the reason why her magical journal was sitting in a satchel bag, weighing heavily upon one shoulder, was revenge.

Bolin was but a limb of Phoebe; he moved according to her designs, doing what she instructed him to do – what she paid him to do. Sunset supposed bitterly that taking money from just anybody in order to do whatever they wished of him was as good training for the life of a huntsman as anything else that Bolin might learn at Beacon or Haven.

That was a bitter thought, one that surprised her a little. After all, she was training to become a huntress too, and so were Pyrrha and Jaune and Ruby. Was that all they would become upon graduation? Hirelings for the rich and powerful, enforcers of their will, no matter how wicked?

No; no, that would not be their fate, not them. Ruby was too pure in heart to subjugate herself thus to the power of money; Sunset wouldn’t be surprised if she never once took an official mission but simply roamed the land wherever her nose for danger took her, righting wrongs and slaying monsters. Pyrrha was fortunate enough to have no need to abase herself to earn a crust – provided that her mother did not tire of her stubbornness and cut her off – and Jaune would be similarly secure so long as he recognise how lucky he was and stuck with her; and besides, Sunset wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Terri-Belle made another attempt to get Pyrrha for the Imperial Guard.

And as for Sunset herself… to be for sale was no more her destiny than it was Pyrrha’s. Neither would choose it, neither would accept it, both of them understood that they had been fashioned for far greater things, however proud that might sound to outsiders.

Let Bolin Hori keep his lien. Let him make more of it on mission after mission of dubious morality; Sunset might walk a poorer path, but it would be paved with glory for certain.

It pleased her, at the least, to think so. Now… what had she been thinking about just now? Ah, yes, Phoebe. Phoebe Kommenos, who feared to face Sunset across the arena and so used a catspaw.

Sunset had expected a challenge from Phoebe herself, but it seemed that she had overestimated the other girl in every way except her cunning.

Sunset wished to strike back at her… but she had promised Jaune that she was past that now, that she had learnt her lesson.

It was one thing to say something to Rainbow Dash and then go back on it: Sunset didn’t like Rainbow all that much; she was self-righteous and full of herself, and she had tried to bully Sunset into doing what she wanted. Jaune… Jaune was different. Jaune was her friend, and he had talked to her as a friend and persuaded her to turn aside from that road.

She… she didn’t want to let him down. He was such a nice boy.

A nice boy with blue eyes, like Flash.

Lucky, lucky Pyrrha.

And yet, nevertheless, she felt within her a desire to get back at Phoebe somehow; defeating her pawn would not affect her at all, save for the frustration of not getting her hands on Soteria, and that didn’t feel enough for Sunset. She wanted more. She wanted to make her… she wanted to warn Phoebe off.

But she doubted that Jaune would see it that way if she did anything.

Sunset sighed. It was hard work, maintaining the good opinion of good people.

It might prove to be even harder to maintain the good opinion of proud people.

Sunset got out her scroll. No, wait; there was a time differential, wasn’t there? Mistral was several hours ahead of Vale, which would make it a very uncivilised hour of the morning in Mistral. She would need to wait until her morning and Lady Nikos’ afternoon, to speak to her regarding… regarding the possible loss of the venerable black sword.

“Why don’t you speak to me instead of my mother?” Pyrrha asked as she stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight; it glimmered off her gilded armour.

Sunset rose to her feet, “Pyrrha,” she said quietly. “What are you doing out here?”

“I think that the answer to that is a little more obvious than the question of what you’re doing here, don’t you think?”

Sunset snorted. “I wanted some privacy.”

“Oh,” Pyrrha said, her face falling. “Well, I can-”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that; I’m sorry,” Sunset said quickly. “Please, stay, and thank you.”

The slightest trace of a smile pricked at the corners of Pyrrha’s lips. She nodded, a barely perceptible gesture of her head, and took a step forward; her scarlet sash fluttered around her leg.

“Dressed for war,” Sunset observed, gesturing to her battle outfit. “Do you expect enemies to fall upon us here?”

“I hope not,” Pyrrha murmured, with more sincerity than Sunset’s remark strictly warranted. “I would hope that if there is a single place in the world that can be called truly safe, then this is it.”

“I think our world is not so grim that this is the only safe place in it, though, like you, I hope that it is among them,” Sunset replied. She sat down. “I wasn’t really expecting a serious answer.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Sunset asked.

“Well, for… I’m not sure,” Pyrrha admitted. “But I’m sure that there must be something. The truth is that I sometimes like wearing this, even when there is no battle to be fought. Is that so wrong?”

“No,” Sunset replied quickly. “It’s just… less practical than an outfit like Ruby’s for casual wear.”

Pyrrha chuckled. “That’s true. But I’m not a particularly casual person, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Sunset shrugged. “It has occurred to me, I must admit.” She paused. “I was out here-”

“Brooding?”

“Thinking,” Sunset insisted. “Also, as you guessed, I was going to call your mother before I remembered the time difference.”

“What were you going to tell her?” Pyrrha asked.

“The truth, that I may lose her sword,” Sunset said. She hesitated. “How do you think she’ll take it?”

“I… well…”

“Be honest.”

“Honestly, I hardly think that she’ll take it well,” Pyrrha said. “But then… you know her better than I do.”

“Don’t start with that again,” Sunset muttered. “You’ve known her your whole life; I’ve known her for a couple of weeks.”

“I know,” Pyrrha said with the slight trace of a sigh. “And yet…”

“Indeed, and yet,” Sunset said. “It’s funny: you envy me for your mother’s favour, and I envy you for the light that shines so bright upon you and casts the rest of us in shadow. If only we could live each other’s lives, we might be well-contented.”

Pyrrha blinked rapidly. “You… you envy me?” she asked. “Still?”

“Always, I fear, at least so long as you are Pyrrha Nikos,” Sunset confessed. “Do you not know that you are the girl who captured Roman Torchwick?”

Pyrrha tutted as she shook her head. “I did very little.”

“And yet that is not what the stories say.”

“Just stories-”

“Our lives are made of stories,” Sunset declared. “They are what remain of us when we are gone. It doesn’t matter whether Olivia was really the gallant knight of Vale or whether she was a fraud or whether she never lived at all, because Olivia exists not in the past but in that book in Ruby’s room, and her deeds are the deeds that are attributed to her. That is her truth, that is the truth. And so, it doesn’t matter who really captured Roman Torchwick, because it will be remembered that Pyrrha Nikos brought him in, and that will be the truth. And so it will be with all our deeds, which shall be your deeds, and we little more than… squires to attend upon you in your idle hours.”

“We will remember what you did,” Pyrrha argued. “And Ruby, and Jaune; those who were there will remember.”

“While we live,” Sunset replied. “As I said, stories are what remain of us when we are gone.”

“When we are gone, does it really matter?”

“Not to you, maybe, but I’m not risking my life out of altruism,” Sunset declared. “Or… something a little less unworthy.”

Pyrrha chuckled, covering her mouth with one brown-gloved hand. The laughter died, and she looked suddenly rather nervous. “Sunset, do you… is it very hard for you to pretend to-?”

“I’m not pretending anything!” Sunset cut her off with a firm exclamation. “I’m concealing a little, but that’s not the same thing. Are you pretending?”

“No,” Pyrrha replied, sounding almost outraged by the suggestion.

“Well, then,” Sunset said, “there you go. We both have things that are… best left unsaid, as a rule. It’s not like I dislike you, not like I did. I understand that you didn’t want this, I understand that you’ve earned it through your sweat, I understand…” She smiled. “I understand that there is so much in you that is good and noble, so much that is to be admired… or adored.” She smiled sadly. “And yet, I cannot but detest the shadow and envy you that command the light.” Her smile faltered into nervousness. “That… it’s not unbearable for you to know that, is it? I would hate, I mean I don’t want-”

“We can still be friends, if that’s what you mean,” Pyrrha said softly. “If that’s what you want.”

“Of course it’s what I want,” Sunset said. “Is it what you want?”

Pyrrha said nothing but reached out and took one of Sunset’s hands in her own. “Perhaps, in our mutual envy, we might offer consolation to one another.”

Sunset snorted. “Yeah, maybe,” she said lightly. She glanced away for a moment, her eyes flickering up to the lights that glowed at the top of the tower. “If… if I lose your family heirloom, I apologise in advance.”

“Surely, you’re not contemplating defeat?” Pyrrha asked, in a tone more wry than Sunset would have expected from her.

She turned her attention back to her companion. “Listen to you. I’d be a fool if I didn’t at least contemplate the possibility of defeat.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Sunset?”

“Shut up!” Sunset cried. “I can admit that I’m not invincible. Especially in front of the actual Invincible Girl.”

Pyrrha groaned. “Please don’t.”

“I mean it,” Sunset declared. “I mean… it’s easy to admit that I’m less than perfect to you. I don’t intend to lose the sword, but I can’t deny the risk that I will.”

“It’s just a sword,” Pyrrha assured her. “I won’t think any the less of you if you lose one fight.”

“But your mother will?”

Pyrrha did not answer. That was about what Sunset was expecting.

“The very honour that your mother did to me,” she said, “by bestowing Soteria upon me, that very honour is the reason why I must fight. Lady Nikos’…” She hesitated, faltering, unsure of exactly how to describe herself in relation to Lady Nikos. “If I were too cowardly to accept Bolin’s challenge, I would prove unworthy of her faith. I would prove unworthy to stand as your-”

“I have no need of a bodyguard.”

“I was going to say 'companion in battle,'” Sunset declared heavily. “'Bodyguard'?” she chuckled. “I am no more your retainer than your mother’s, Lady Pyrrha.”

Pyrrha’s face flushed, the red of her cheeks visible in the moonlight. “I’m sorry.”

Sunset smiled. “Do you remember when you would not fight for me?” she asked. “You wouldn’t obey my orders. You sulked like your namesake in the Mistraliad.”

“Not quite,” Pyrrha corrected her. “That Pyrrha sulked in her tent. I fought; I simply didn’t fight according to your instructions.”

“Not that it stopped you winning,” Sunset muttered. “It made me feel rather superfluous. Do you remember what we were fighting about?”

“You… you had insulted me,” Pyrrha replied.

“I had dishonoured you, and you could not abide it,” Sunset corrected. “You could not bear the slight, not bear to follow a leader unworthy of your service. Just as I could not bear to simply hand over Soteria to one who is not worthy to possess it. My honour will not allow it.”

“Is it honour that we speak of now, or pride?” Pyrrha asked.

“Can one have honour without a little pride?” Sunset replied. “If we have no pride in ourselves, how can we understand what we deserve from the world, what is beneath us, what is a level to which we ought not stoop?”

“Perhaps we should not concern ourselves with such things,” Pyrrha suggested, “and simply endeavour to be kind.”

“Even the kind should have some pride in themselves, or they will be trampled underfoot by those who do possess some self-regard,” Sunset said. “In any case, I do not think I have it in me to be so humble. Nor do you, I think, although you come closer.”

Pyrrha was silent a while. “No,” she allowed. “Or else your slanders would not have bothered me as they did, when the year first began.” She hesitated, turning her face upwards to stare at the moon above them. “Have you finished the Mistraliad yet?”

“I have,” Sunset confirmed. “A little while ago.”

“What do you think of Pyrrha?” Pyrrha asked. “The one in the book, I mean; I haven’t started referring to myself in the third person.”

Sunset considered it for a moment. “She is… not altogether sympathetic,” she declared. “And, in truth, I don’t think she’s meant to be, or else the text would not be so impatient to remind us that, while Pyrrha broods in her tent, men and women are dying before the city walls as battle rages.”

“Indeed,” Pyrrha said. “In Mistral, we hold our pride, our honour, so sacred that it is acceptable to withdraw even from war if your lord and master does not treat you with the respect and courtesy which you are due, but on the other hand, to stand idly by in the face of battle, to turn away and refuse to fight when the enemy is at hand, that is utterly contemptible. We must fight, though we be outmatched, though it costs us our lives, as Juturna comes to realise before the end. The point is… I understand why you have to accept this challenge.”

“‘Always be the best, the bravest,’” Sunset recited, “and hold your head up high above all others.”

“Indeed,” Pyrrha murmured. “You would have made a very good Mistralian.”

Sunset chuckled. “I did enjoy your home.”

“You could always come back,” Pyrrha said. “Not just for a holiday, but after graduation. Mistral needs huntresses as much as Vale, or Atlas, or anywhere else. You could make a home there, and Ruby too, if she would; she could fight for humanity as easily in Mistral as anywhere else, and… we could be together a little longer. What we have, what you’ve all given me… I don’t want to lose it.”

Sunset was silent for a moment. Live in Mistral? Well, why not? It wasn’t something that she’d particularly thought about, but now that she did think about it, she couldn’t think of any pressing objections. Where else was she going to live? Here in Vale? Back in Atlas? She had to settle somewhere, and Mistral was as good a place as any and better than most.

And Pyrrha was right; it would keep the team together.

That alone was enough to make it tempting, even beyond the delights of Mistral itself.

“I don’t want to lose this either,” she agreed. “And after all, Team Stark stuck it out after graduation, why not us? But all the same, maybe best not to mention it to Ruby just yet. A lot can happen in four years; it seems… a little premature to be making plans now.”

Pyrrha nodded. “You’re probably right,” she agreed. “I’m probably getting ahead of myself again.”

“You’ve already picked out a wedding dress, haven’t you?”

“No!” Pyrrha cried, her cheeks reddening yet further.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Sunset assured her. She grinned. “It might be something to be embarrassed about, but not ashamed.”

“Please, stop,” Pyrrha begged amusedly. “It’s not… I’m not that bad, thank the sea and sky. Or at least… I mean, I feel that… in my heart, I-”

“You don’t have to explain your feelings to me,” Sunset said. “You love who you love, and that’s all there is to it. I just hope that he’s worthy of you.”

“I hope that I’m worthy of him,” Pyrrha insisted.

You really mean that, don’t you? The princess of Mistral, and you’re in awe of some Valish boy from the backwoods. Sunset shook her head. “Thank you,” she said. “For coming out here.”

Now it was Pyrrha’s turn to smile. “Even the great warriors of old were rarely alone on the eve of a great battle.”

“Although some were,” Sunset pointed out. “Like another namesake of yours, the Empress Pyrrha the Second.”

“A namesake and an ancestor,” Pyrrha murmured.

Sunset’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“According to legend, at least,” Pyrrha said. “Our Mistralian ‘history’ begins with the founding of the city by Theseus, from whom I am, apparently, descended, but this is all long before written records, let alone accurate ones, so who can say for sure? But, by tale and by tradition, I am descended from Theseus and all of the Emperors and Empresses who followed in his line, including Polites, the only son of Paris to survive the Sack of Mistral and rebuild the city, and Pyrrha the Second.”

“But not your other namesake, the Pyrrha of the Mistraliad.”

“Um, her too,” Pyrrha confessed. “Through her great-great-great-grandaughter, Hermione, who married the Emperor Neoptolemus. But, again, this is all myth… but then, according to you, that doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Not particularly,” Sunset replied. “And in any event, one only has to watch you fight to see that the blood of heroes runs in your veins.”

Pyrrha ignored that and said, “I’m a little surprised that you know about Pyrrha the Second.”

“Twilight gave me a book which recorded the story,” Sunset explained. “It didn’t say what happened to her child; I assumed-”

“Fearing the worst, her father smuggled Princess Juno out of the city ahead of the Red Queen’s coming,” Pyrrha explained. “She was given over to a kindly shepherd and his wife to raise as their own until she was old enough to choose her own destiny. When she learned of her true parentage, she raised an army from amongst the country-folk and retook Mistral.”

“Then you know about the Red Queens?” Sunset asked.

Pyrrha frowned slightly. “There was only one Red Queen.”

Sunset shook her head. “One bore that name, but there were others like her. I admit, I skimmed through some of it, but are there no more tales of Mistralian Emperors and Empresses being troubled by sorceresses or witches?”

“There are tales,” Pyrrha agreed. “And tales of wise women counselling them in earlier days, besides, but… you believe them, don’t you? Do you think that these tales… magic, like yours?”

“Not quite like mine, but magic,” Sunset agreed.

“Or myth,” Pyrrha countered.

“If magic is real, why should not tales be told of it?” Sunset countered. “Is it not as sensible to believe that the tales preserve some truth in them?”

“Perhaps,” Pyrrha conceded. “But… I hope not.”

Now it was Sunset’s turn to frown. “Why not?”

“Because… because… do you remember when we spoke on the rooftop, and you told me that amongst your people, it is believed that everyone is born blessed with one gift, a supreme talent amongst all others?”

Sunset nodded. “Not just our supreme talent, for we may be blessed with many skills, but the skill with which we choose to make the world around us a better place. Our gift to the world.”

“Our destiny,” Pyrrha replied. She hesitated. “My gift to the world is in these hands. It may be nothing more than the stirring of my blood, but I have been blessed to be made skilled with sword and spear and rifle. I am a warrior, and I hope I do not flatter myself unduly to say that I am a good one.”

“You’re better than good.”

“So I’m told,” Pyrrha said. “The pride and glory of Mistral reborn, the Invincible Girl, the evenstar of our people. The second coming of my namesake.” She gave a soft, slightly bitter laugh. “Which namesake would that be, the one who condemned herself to an early grave by her choices or the one who died alone, outmatched against a foe she could not hope to overcome?”

“You’re not alone,” Sunset reminded her. “You’ve got us.”

“I know,” Pyrrha said. “And I rejoice in it, but… my point is… I suppose this may sound as though I’m simply vain of my reputation after all, but… I could be as great as Pyrrha the Second, I could be as great as the Pyrrha of the Mistraliad, and all of it would come to nought if… if what you and Twilight assume is true… I barely bested you on stage, and in a real battle… what is my skill worth in a world of magic? If there are Red Queens in the world, then, or people like the Auburn that Ruby’s mother wrote of, would it not be as futile to attempt to match them as it was for my ancestor to ride out for Argolis? I suppose that I would rather live in a world where I have something to contribute.”

“Understandable,” Sunset whispered. She had not considered that before now, and upon considering it… well, she was inclined to agree with Pyrrha. Not in the sense that she no longer believed that magic was real, but in that it might be better if it were not. The powers that Summer had spoken of, the powers of the prophets and the queens… it was hard to measure powers that she really possessed against powers that she was only reading about, but it was hard for Sunset not to fear that she might find herself overmatched if she found herself facing one of Ozpin’s mages.

Her own unicorn magic presently put her in the top tier of students, even across all four academies, but if one factored in the powers of these Remnant alicorns, then she, Pyrrha, Rainbow Dash, Blake, Weiss, Yang, all of them who sat in the highest tier of fighting students would all be cast down. Rendered second-rate at best.

It was a thought that she had not considered before, and it was not a particularly pleasant one.

It was enough to almost make her dismiss the whole idea, but within her head, she found that she could not. There was too much evidence to be so lightly cast aside.

Not that she would have to worry about that if she failed to win this duel. Defeat at the hands of Bolin Hori would hurl into the second tier long before any magical powers revealed themselves.

Then I will just have to make sure that I don’t lose, won’t I?

“Maybe you’re right,” Sunset conceded falsely, more to put Pyrrha at ease than anything else. “There’s probably no connection between what Twilight saw, what Summer Rose wrote of, and those old tales. And if there are… these powers have not been seen for years; why should they trouble us now?”

“Not when we have troubles more immediate by far,” Pyrrha agreed.

“Are you talking about the White Fang or Bolin?”

“Either?” Pyrrha said. “You should come back to the dorm room, get some rest before your duel tomorrow.”

“Not quite yet,” Sunset said. “There’s something that I need to do first.”

“What?” Pyrrha asked.

Sunset hesitated for a moment. Did she want to tell Pyrrha the truth? Did she want to tell her about the journal? Did she want to tell Pyrrha what she was?

No, to that last question, but as to the others… how much did she trust her?

I trust her with my life. Just not all of my secrets.

But... perhaps I can trust her with some of them.

“This book,” Sunset said, levitating out of her satchel, “it is a… I suppose you might call it a magic book. Well, it is a magic book; I can use it to talk to… to the person who replaced me back home.”

Pyrrha stared at Sunset, her green eyes widening a little. “Your… replacement?”

“The one who fulfilled the destiny that I was unworthy of,” Sunset explained, albeit vaguely. “We get on surprisingly well.”

“Through a book?”

“A magic book, yes.”

“My goodness,” Pyrrha whispered. She glanced down at the journal in Sunset’s hands. “That’s the book that you-”

“Yes,” Sunset said. “That’s why I didn’t want you to touch it; I was terrified that you would find out… well, the truth.”

Pyrrha did not say anything for some time. She simply stared, a little at the book and a little at Sunset. “I… I can hardly believe it,” she whispered. “May… may I… see how it works?”

“I… would rather you didn’t,” Sunset admitted. “It’s all… a little personal.”

I’m not ready for you to find out I’m not human yet.

“Oh, well, yes, of course,” Pyrrha murmured. “I wouldn’t want to pry. I will leave you to it.” She stood up. “But you will be up to the dorm room soon?”

Sunset smiled slightly. “I promise.”

“Good,” Pyrrha said. “You’ll need it. Goodnight, Sunset Shimmer.”

Sunset nodded. “Goodnight, Pyrrha Nikos.”

She watched her go, ponytail and sash alike swaying behind her as she walked, moonlight reflecting off those parts of her armour yet visible from behind.

She watched her go, and only once she was gone did Sunset turn her attention to the journal itself, opening up a page with blank space on it and beginning to write.

Twilight, are you there? Is it a good time?

She waited, but it was not Twilight’s writing that ran across the page in response, but a hoof – or spell – in an old-fashioned and elegant cursive.

Good evening, Sunset. I’m afraid that now may not be the best time for you to speak with Twilight, but hopefully, I can offer you some counsel instead.

Sunset stared down at the page. She hesitated. The pen in her hand trembled just a little. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to speak to Princess Celestia; it was just that… it was just that she wasn’t sure that she wanted to be as honest with Princess Celestia as she could have been with Twilight.

Twilight’s opinion didn’t matter to her as much as Princess Celestia’s did.

But on the other hoof, it’s not as though Twilight couldn’t have told Princess Celestia some of this stuff anyway.

Of course, Princess, I’m delighted to hear from you. It’s been far too long. But what are you doing with the journal again? Is Twilight in Canterlot?

No, we are all in the Crystal Empire for a summit with the Duke and Duchess of Maretonia; we are hoping to persuade them to enter into a trade agreement with us.

All? You and Twilight and Cadance too?

And Luna also.

Of course. Does it require all four princesses to negotiate with the duke and duchess of a little land to the west?

Maretonia may be small compared to Equestria, but it is a proud land; we honour them with the presence of all four princesses as a sign of respect. Although to know the fact brings Twilight little comfort.

She is ill at ease?

She feels ill-used, or little used, at least; she has become a princess, and yet, I fear it has not changed her life in the way that she imagined it would.

From what I understand, she doesn’t have a life in need of changing.

And Twilight is not dissatisfied with her friends or with Ponyville, but I am afraid that she is beginning to wonder why she was granted wings and crown when she has yet had no opportunity to accomplish aught with them that she could not have done as a unicorn.

Sunset couldn’t help but smile a little. Does it frustrate you that all your students are cursed to suffer impatience? Not that I mean to compare my flaw with Twilight’s.

I take your meaning well, Sunset; I hope you do not take it amiss when I say that I am a little more sympathetic to Twilight’s frustrations than your own.

Sunset chuckled. That’s quite alright, Princess. From what you’ve said, Twilight’s frustrations are more sympathetic than mine. She has ascended – and done so very young, at that – accomplished a feat worthy of honour and acclaim, and now she must ask herself ‘now what?’ It is a question that too few stories take up: what do we dream once all our dreams have come true?

Indeed. It is all very well to close off with ‘and they all lived happily ever after,’ but 'ever after' must still be lived, and take it from me, that 'ever' can be a long time.

Can Cadance give her no counsel? She ascended, and her destiny had not yet revealed itself by the time that I departed from Equestria; she must understand what it’s like to rise so high and then find that there is nothing to do once you have risen.

We have all attempted to encourage Twilight, to remind her, as you say, that destiny may take its time slouching towards you, but it will arrive at the appointed time nonetheless. I am not sure how much good it did, but I will broach the subject with Cadance and see what Twilight’s sister-in-law may do.

I’m just not sure that you can understand what it’s like in the same way that Cadance can, or even I can. You fulfilled your destiny so soon, and all your life since has been spent in ruling the realm. You don’t know what it’s like to wait and fret and wonder when the promise of your life will be fulfilled.

If I made it seem like I was promising you something, I do apologise. It was not my intent to make everything seem so certain, so set in stone.

I’m not saying this to blame you, Princess Celestia; I’m just pointing out that, for me, it felt like everything up until my ascension – or at least up until the great task that I would accomplish to attain my ascension – was but a prologue, that my whole life up until that point would prove to be mere preparation for this trial. A trial that did not come. The prologue dragged on and on, filled with an ever-increasing array of forgettable minor characters whose stories were already moving while mine stood still. I felt trapped in amber, imprisoned in a cocoon from which I could not break free. I do not say that it is exactly the same with Twilight – she has fulfilled one destiny already – but it wouldn’t surprise me if she feels much the same way.

There was a pause, before Celestia responded. You have grown very wise in your exile, little Sunbeam.

Sunset could not help but laugh. That is very kind of you, Princess, too kind by far. I may be able to appear wise when addressing the concerns of others, but in my own life, I am as headstrong and heedless as I ever was, as any of my friends could tell you.

I would dearly love to speak to some of these good friends of yours.

Sunset winced. And they you, but I fear that I am not quite ready for that yet.

I will not say I understand, but since I do not understand, I will not question your reasons. Have you any words that I may take to Twilight on your behalf? You may be able to give her as good counsel as Cadance.

My friend Pyrrha believes that we choose our own destiny; she calls it a goal that she has set herself. I know that Twilight did not choose her first destiny, but perhaps if she were to choose the second instead of waiting for it to find her, it might ease her sense of idleness.

You say that you are not wise, and yet, you have such excellent notions.

I am not sure that I would call it excellent; Pyrrha’s idea of destiny is very similar to the notion of cutie marks: that our choices are as important as our abilities. Though I fear that the destiny Pyrrha has chosen is so remote that she is likely to die with it unfulfilled, though she lives for a hundred years or more.

Pyrrha is the one who wishes to save the world, is she not?

She is. A lofty task, even for so peerless a warrior as she.

And yet, in trying, she is likely to leave the world a far better place than she found it, and that is no dishonourable legacy.

Now it is you who speaks most wisely, Princess.

And what of you, Sunset? What did you wish to speak of? Have you chosen your destiny in this world of Remnant?

I fear not yet, for I am consumed with misgivings, pestered by troubles, and fear that I very nearly lost myself.

Lost yourself? How so?

Sunset hesitated. A part of her very, very much did not wish to disclose this to Princess Celestia. And yet, a part of her felt that she must confess it to someone, and she did not dare speak of it to Ruby or Pyrrha. I have been cruel and vengeful.

Sunset found that she could see in her mind’s eye the disappointment on Princess Celestia’s face as she wrote back. To whom? Ruby? Pyrrha?

No. To neither of them, nor Jaune or Blake either. To none of my friends. To some of my fellow classmates, Cardin Winchester and Bon Bon; they hurt my friend Blake, taunted her with the past that she wishes to escape, and so I hurt them in turn.

I see. Did Blake ask you to do this?

Blake would never do such a thing; in fact she was rather angry with me when she found out. I did this all on my own, for all that it was done on her behalf.

Why, then?

Because Blake deserves better than their insults, and I wanted them to stop.

I would tell you the ways in which you are wrong, Sunset, but I think you would not be telling me this unless you knew already.

You’re right, I do know. At least I do now. Jaune made me see. He wasn’t right about everything – he blames Cinder, another of my friends, although she had nothing to do with this – but he was right that I was more my old self than either of us would like. It worries me, Princess; I thought that my friends had made me a better person, but how can that be when I can so easily slide back into who I was before?

Who you were before, I’m sorry to say, would not have so quickly realised that she was doing wrong, Sunbeam, and that is a thought to take comfort in, if nothing else.

I hope you’re right, Princess Celestia. I very much hope that you’re right.

To care for your friends is right and good, but they are not yours that you must punish the things that are done to them.

I know, or at least I will try and remember it.

Do not despair from a single setback. You have already come such a long way; that you have faltered on the road only shows that you are as flawed as anypony is, even myself, or even Twilight Sparkle. So long as you understand why you faltered, then it will help you to avoid failing again.

My fault is my pride, and the difficulty is that I do not entirely wish to be rid of it, for all the trouble that it causes me.

Sunset, from what you have said, the trouble you have caused yourself is as very little compared to the trouble you have caused for others.

It was a gentle rebuke, but it was a rebuke nevertheless, and it stopped Sunset in her tracks. She… she had not considered that before, and that lack of consideration compounded the selfishness in her initial action. It was all very well to feel guilty about what she had done, but she had not done anything about it. She hadn’t done anything to make amends; she hadn’t even apologised.

Apologising would be difficult, not just because of her pride but because it would involve an admission of guilt, but she could make it up to Cardin somehow. She could help him get back together with Skystar, maybe. She could make right what she had broken.

She no longer wanted to tell Princess Celestia about her duel or her suspicions about Professor Ozpin; it would seem like more selfishness on her part, more distractions from the wrong that she had done.

That was not how she wished to be seen.

You chide me well, Princess; I will do better. I will fix what I have damaged, if I can.

I’m not sure how just yet, but I can give it a try.

I’m glad to hear it.

Sunset smiled with one corner of her mouth. It was good that I spoke to you, in the end, Princess Celestia. Twilight can’t make me feel ashamed of myself the same way that you can.

I am also glad to hear that my words are still useful to you, Sunset.

Your words will always be invaluable to me. But now I have to go. It is getting late, and I need to think about how I can make it up to Cardin. Goodnight, Princess, and tell Twilight I wish her good fortune and great glory.

Goodnight and good luck, Sunset Shimmer.

Comments

[Mastermind4892]

Sunset, from what you have said, the trouble you have caused yourself is as very little compared to the trouble you have caused for others.

Much as it does for Sunset’s character growth, she left out some important context about what happened due to her own shame. I feel that, after spending centuries working to make racial prejudice between the three pony races a thing of the past, Celestia would likely have a very different opinion if she heard what Cardin and Bon Bon had said, especially with the intention to cause violence. She would be upset just as she will be with NeighSay.

[SnakeEye]

Can't wait for the "I'm a magic horse from another dimension" talk.

[Voltaje]

Cinder could as well incite sunset to go along with her revenge, but what sunset hasn't realized, is that it wasn't necessary for cinder to incite her, she just needed to agree with sunset, take her side, aprove of her idea, offer her help, and boom, sunset decides to take revenge, if cinder would have just said to her to forget about it as her opinion, then things would have been different, cinder really knows how to manipulate.

[Adser]

Hmm, thinking about it Lady Nikos may end up much more understanding that Sunset expects.

She screwed up Sunset without meaning to, the sword was a emotional gift, not a practical one (Sunset is not really a swordfighter) and that gift has painted a target on Sunset back for all of Mistral to try and shoot arrows at.

Lady Nikos can just ignore the venom of the other nobles, Sunset not, and I think that lady Nikos would feel bad that she has done the same mistake she did on the party (take Sunset to check her response, forgetting the racism against the faunus). She has forced Sunset to put her Pride in the line in a way where Sunset cannot bring her best, out of the respect and appreciation Sunset has for Lady Nikos.

[MSie95]

10713414
And add to that Sunset's action might have positive consequences; Weiss admitted her ineffectiveness as a leader, Cardin's ego got a much needed beating, etc. But it's also unlike Celestia to cast her judgement without asking for the bigger picture.

[Animatorsnake]

Oh dang, we're nearing the S4 finale back in Equestria... I wonder if either Celestia or Twilight will tell Sunset of Tirek's present invasion or/and the aftermath?