Dazzling New Life

by AFanaticRabbit

8 - Sunset

Magic, as a whole, was a waning art.

There were still commonplace spells many a unicorn could cast. Telekinesis was one such spell; the dexterity of hoof and mouth was far too poor for fine manipulation, making anypony born with a horn more likely to become a tinkerer or engineer.

What few unicorns did practice more advanced spellcasting were formidable at their craft. The skill curve was more akin to a tick, laying flat for most of the population before spiking high among the remaining one percent.

Sunset wasn’t sure where she sat on that curve, but she liked to think she was pretty high.

She hadn’t anticipated the missiles of force loved her way and hadn’t attuned her ward appropriately. When their combined magics collided, it shunted her backwards, creating more distance while leaving an afterimage in Sunset’s eyes. She remained on her hooves the entire slide, and while she was out of breath, the other mare was still panting and wheezing from Aria’s punch. The fact she was still standing was surprising enough, let alone able to cast spells more complex than a spark.

Sunset straightened her back and held her head high. She needed to think, engage her brain and properly consider her spells. Between the telekinetic nets and missiles, this mare knew more than most. Sunset had to do more than cast basic wards and vague attempts at dismantling the incoming magic.

The fact the mare already had Sunset on the back hoof bode ill for Sunset, leaving her worrying they sat on the curve compared to one another.

“I just—“The mare coughed, falling to her hocks, her wheezing voice shockingly low. She gulped down air, holding her head up, then struggled back to her hooves. “I just want to study it!” she managed, at last, still wheezy, but her voice closer to its original high-pitched nasally register.

Whatever Aria did wasn’t permanent, Sunset figured. If it was worse, the mare wouldn’t be regaining her composure as well as she was. Besides, as annoying as she was, Sunset would prefer they didn’t leave a trail of broken bodies.

“Not another word,” Sunset shouted. She cast a more sophisticated spell, not the field of aetheric needles she filled the air with before, designed to pluck apart spells, but one instead designed to intercept, to block.

Azure energy surrounded the mare, creating a bubble surrounded by circular seals, while ghostly pitons dug into the ground to lock the bubble down. They left no mark, no cracks in the floor, but there was little chance a spell could break its way through, Sunset was sure.

It should hold long enough and absorb enough of the mare’s spells for Sunset to turn and run, but she only managed to get a few steps towards the crowd behind her.

With a crackle of energy, the mare appeared before Sunset and widened her stance. Sunset didn’t need to see the bubble to confirm what spell that was. The mare had leapt through the space between them as pure energy, leaving an invisible trail Sunset could sense with only her horn.

She had just teleported.

Sunset had read about it before. She knew it was possible, the accounts were well verified, but few could pull it off without being exhausted, being left sweating and panting from the exertion. Fewer still even understood how it worked, and Sunset hadn’t quite figured out the knack for it. There was something there, though, in a live demonstration…

Stamping a hoof on the ground, Sunset stopped and backpedalled, creating space between her and the mare. The other mage looked better, standing taller, her breath more measured and steady. She’d gone almost wholly still, aside from a widening grin.

“That was pretty clever,” said the mare. “That almost would have worked if you hadn’t left out some fundamentals. Don’t feel bad, though. A lot of ponies tend to neglect a net for air molecules.”

A flick of Sunset’s head launched a widening arc of energy, kicking up the dirt and mud from between the cobblestones where it struck. Decidedly, that wasn’t where the mare stood any longer. She had vanished, but not without trace. Sunset whirled around, following the little telltale trail likely only she and the mare could follow and lobbed another arc out. Before it connected with her opponent, she teleported away, again repeating the same kick of dirt and dust.

They repeated that dance several times, with Sunset spinning around, aiming for where the mage was about to appear, and the mage barely avoided the spell by a hair’s breadth. Keeping her aim low, Sunset ensured she’d avoid the crowd as best she could. Fortunately, everypony that wasn’t involved had the sense to back up, creating a spacious arena for the pair.

“Can you—“Poof. “—Please stop—“Poof. “—Doing that!”

Every teleport was a little more information for Sunset, a little more for her to break apart and examine. The pattern her target zapped around in turned predictable, not that it meant Sunset could hit her. It did mean, however, that she knew where to feel out for the magic. She couldn’t break the spell; anything that targeted oneself could only be prevented, not dispelled. That, however, wasn’t Sunset’s intention. All she needed to do was find a few critical seconds in each cast…

Half a dozen teleports later, the mare didn’t appear where Sunset expected, though the trace elements of the spell led to the air above her.

The shadow that fell upon Sunset forced her hoof, and before the mare landed upon her, Sunset shut her eyes and pulled at every force around her. She had milliseconds to weave what she hoped was the correct pattern—

For a second, Sunset was weightless. She blinked, taking in the surrounding houses. She’d moved down the street, behind where the mare came from, behind some of the gawkers, and let out a shout of joy.

Then a moment later, all that weight came up to meet her, and Sunset fell. She didn’t fall far, thankfully, but it was far enough she crumpled under her own weight, her legs splayed out either side while her jaw smacked the ground.

Sunset shakily rose back to her hooves with stars in her eyes, trying to refocus her vision. The onlookers around her reacted quickly to her presence and backed up to the edges of the street, giving Sunset’s opponent an easy path to simply walk up to her.

Dazed as she was, Sunset wasn’t going to stand still. Rather than teleporting again, she tried running once more. She might have been running out of juice if the mare hadn’t followed her with another teleportation spell.

That was fine by Sunset. Given her imprecise destination, she wasn’t thrilled to try again outside of a controlled environment.

Sunset managed to get a few steps along the street before several glowing crystal shards embedded themselves in the ground before her. A unicorn stallion stood just a few feet beyond, his horn lit with emerald light and half a shattered blade hovering before him. On either side of him were other guards, all of them dressed in the gleaming golden armour of the Royal Guard.

“That was fun!” The mare placed a hoof on Sunset’s shoulder. “But I think we’re going to have to end it for now.”

---

The device strapped around Sunset’s horn itched. She wanted nothing more than to constantly scratch at it, to yank it off, but understanding what it was, she refrained. If she tried pulling it off herself, it would be painful. There wouldn’t be permanent damage, but it was enough to deter even the most desperate unicorns. It comprised two golden rings inlaid with runes, with several long bars that connected them, and a rounded cap at the point of her horn.

Inhibitor devices such as that robbed the wearer of their magic, meaning Sunset couldn’t remove it the intended way. Though not only did it take away Sunset’s ability to cast spells, but also her ability to sense magic around her. Albeit temporary, she’d lost a sense she’d had her entire life. It was like a limb had gone numb, and likewise, whenever she tried to cast a spell, she had no feedback that it had even failed.

“So, you just gonna sit there brooding?”

From overhearing the guards talking, the mare’s name was Twilight, and she was young. Not just in how she acted and talked but also compared to Sunset’s talent and skill as a teenager years ago. She was certain Twilight hadn’t yet broken out of her teen years, making Sunset’s loss sting a little more.

“Am I not being a good enough guest for you?” Sunset scoffed and turned her attention to the window above them. Sitting as she was, Sunset could only see the leaves of the tree she’d been brought inside and a sliver of sky. She’d got a good look on the way in; the gnarled, half-living structure had been converted into a laboratory. Given the hap-hazard way the cables were tied around branches and twigs, it was a rush job, but one that seemed to be holding up well.

“I mean… Yes?” Twilight sighed. “Though I’ll admit I’d also act like a brat if I were in your shoes.”

Sunset’s fiery glare landed on Twilight, and the younger unicorn at least had enough humility to plane her ears and look away.

“Okay, yeah, insulting you is a bit much. You don’t really deserve that, especially given your talents.” Leaning forward, Twilight rested her head on one of her hooves. “Can you at least answer a couple of questions? Please?”

“Take the inhibitor off, and I’ll answer them.”

With a huff, Twilight rolled her eyes and pushed herself back, standing up as she did. “That’s not up to me. Cardin made that call, and I don’t really have that authority over him. Plus, I’m inclined to agree with his judgement. I’ve never met anypony else who can teleport, except maybe Celestia. Even then, I’m kind of guessing she can since she never taught me that. I just figured it out.”

Sunset’s ear twitched, and her glare softened. “Did you say ‘Celestia’?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes, I did. I’ve been her student for years, learning magic, though I’ve taken a shine to some engineering. I actually got a bug up my butt over my latest work, and she forced me out here, but I took my work with me.” Twilight gestured to the room behind her, beneath both of them in their raised alcove. Aetheric converters, electric transformers, a thousand hidden crystals, gears, and cables inside metal boxes are abstractly represented by dozens of gauges, dials, and switches.

None of the laboratory mattered much to Sunset, not at that moment. She gawped at Twilight, a tightness in her chest.

Celestia had replaced her. She thought she was one-of-a-kind, the only protege that Celestia had ever taken up. She didn’t know if she should be offended or respect the decision. It would have been logical, and the monarch was, if anything, a logical pony.

“Hello?” Twilight waved a hoof in Sunset’s face. “Equus to, err.” Twilight hummed for a moment. “You know, I never actually got your name, but you and your golem do match the description of some ponies a friend told me about. Sunburst, is it?”

Sunset snorted but gave no indication of if it was right or wrong. “I didn’t think she’d taken on a new student as her own.”

“Who, Celestia?” Twilight shrugged. “She picked me out when I was young and first applied to her school. I kinda blew the entrance exam, but she was impressed anyway. I can’t say I know what she was thinking at the time, but I’m grateful she picked me out.”

If it was that long ago, Sunset had to wonder why she hadn’t heard of this Twilight before. “And now you’re here doing what, exactly?”

“Well, Celestia wants me to oversee preparations for the Summer Festival before she arrives at the end of the week. She wants everything to be perfect here, for some reason or another and told me to get to know ponies. I’ve brought my work along anyway, but I admit I’ve been a little too distracted with my ‘royal duties’ to focus much on that. Making sure clothing for dignitaries is ready and that there’s enough food for everypony to enjoy is a nightmare of logistics when this whole town used to operate on the ‘we’ll make do’ principle.”

Smiling, Sunset leaned forward over the table between them. Well, now, this mare had quite the motormouth. “And your work? What is it?”

“Same as yours. Not the planning stuff, though I’m pretty good at that, if I might say so myself. I’ve taken up learning golemancy, though, as you probably know, finding appropriate materials to learn from has been difficult. There’s not a single teacher of the subject, and all Celestia tells me to do is be careful and not to push it too far—“Twilight blinked. “You got me monologing.”

“Keep going! You’re cute when you ramble.”

Twilight’s cheeks turned pink, and she puffed out her cheeks. “I am not!” she shouted, slamming a hoof on the table. One of the guards, a pegasus, poked her head up the stairs at the noise, and Twilight glanced back at her before straightening herself out. She breathed out slowly, extending a hoof before her, and then rediscovered her smirk. “I keep underestimating you when I really shouldn’t. I’ve answered a lot of your questions. Why don’t you answer some of mine?”

“Tell you what,” Sunset lowered her voice. “I’ll tell you about me if you tell me more about yourself. Deal?”

“I’ve already told you a lot,” Twilight said flatly.

“Okay, well, I’ll answer three questions of yours for free, and then we can go back and forth a little.”

Twilight puffed out her cheeks again with a pout, her eyes looking off to the side, and then she exhaled. “Fine. Deal. Now—“Twilight leaned forward, lifting herself up with her hooves on the table “—who are you?”

“A local tinkerer and engineer.” Sunset gestured backwards with her head out the window. “The town has the basic infrastructure for power and electricity, but not a lot of ponies know how to even work home appliances, let alone how to deal with any of them when they break. I’ve fixed radios, electric furnaces, as well as fabricating small devices and tools for folks on occasion.”

“I take it not for free.”

Sunset chuckled. “No. Gotta eat somehow.”

Twilight hummed. “None of that tells me your name or where you’re from.”

“I’m from Canterlot, actually. Just like you, from the way you speak and dress. If you had to take an entrance exam, you’re not one of the nobles, but you smell like money. You must be upper class, right?”

Clucking her tongue, Twilight nodded. “You’re good, though if we’re going by knowledge and appearances, you kind of give me a bum scientist vibe.”

Sunset looked down at herself. Her lab coat and undershirt were definitely worn down, grubby and patchy. “I prefer mad scientist. And this is my lucky coat; been with me for years. The holes just add character.”

“And your name?”

“Sunlight Rays.”

Twilight squinted, her eyes boring holes into Sunset’s head, but she kept an amiable smile. “Fine. Your question.”

“Let’s repeat my last one. Tell me about your work.”

Twilight’s eyes lit up, and then she looked over her shoulder. Pink light surrounded her horn, and a moment later, there was a skittering sound from below. A pony shouted and grumbled, and a little beetle-like creature clambered up into the alcove a second later. It had a dark metal exoskeleton, but Sunset made out crystals inset into each joint and a central core containing a more significant, glowing gem through the gaps.

“Like I said, it’s the same as yours but nowhere near as sophisticated. I’m amazed you know as much as you do since I can’t find anything other than a few passing mentions in any textbooks.”

“Self-taught, huh?” Sunset smiled. “No shame in that; that’s where I started out. I actually made a little guy like that after a few tries.”

The little four-legged construct climbed onto the table and stopped before Sunset. It was rudimentary but also very finely crafted and tuned. Its motions were fluid, not like a stilted automaton but something that actually had life in it. If Twilight had the means and know-how, Sunset was sure she could replicate the sisters somehow.

“It took me a year to make this little guy. I call it Spike.”

With a chuckle, Sunset reached out and gave the golem a nudge. It adjusted its posture and resisted her push, staying in place. “Kind of sounds like a dog’s name.”

“My turn: Where did you learn about golemancy?”

Sunset looked at Twilight and drew her leg back, holding it to her chest. “Ah, well… I learned it in Canterlot. I read a bit about it in a few textbooks when I was really young and spent years searching for something with a little more detail. Eventually, I found it, but it wasn’t something I was supposed to just stumble across.”

With wide-eyed rapture, Twilight asked, “What book?”

Sunset chuckled again. “That’s two questions. I get another.” Twilight whined, but Sunset took the lack of words as permission. “Why do you keep calling Aria ‘it’?”

“It is, isn’t it?” Twilight’s face turned into genuine confusion, making it seem like her entire face pressed in, putting a little scrunch on the bridge of her snout. “You can give it a name and anthropomorphise it, but it’s still not a living, breathing thing. It can’t think and act for itself, not really.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sunset muttered.

“What do you mean?”

Sunset wobbled her head as she thought about the question and whether she should even answer at all. She couldn’t give too much away, but at the same time, talking shop with one of the only other ponies knowledgeable on the subject was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“I noticed how smooth and fluid Spike moves,” Sunset said. “Why did you do that?”

“That’s not an ans—“

Sunset held up a hoof. “That was a rhetorical question. I know why you did it. You want to replicate life, see how close you can get before you come up against some wall. Then, when you do, you agonise over it for months and months and months until you figure out how to get around it, either with a big change or small tweaks.

“That’s what I did with Aria and the others. I poured years of work into them, so much of my life spent perfecting how they look and move. There are still limitations, things that I haven’t quite figured out an elegant solution to, but I have come so, so close.” Sunset chuckled. “If it wasn’t for the eyes or their cores, you’d probably think they’re the genuine thing. But I like them that way. Kind of a signature look.?”

Twilight waved a hoof. “They’re pretty close, sure.”

“Well… They aren’t acting like they have life. I’m pretty sure they are alive. They have their own agency, their own personalities. Each one of them is a she, as far as I’m concerned.” There was a moment’s pause. “Or he, or they. I guess that’s up to them. I’m pretty sure they’re not even golems anymore, but whatever they actually are, I’ve not got a word for them.” Idly, Sunset reached out and nudged Spike again. Their sisters were definitely more lifelike, but admittedly, Spike was cute.

For a minute, Twilight didn’t have much to say and settled for watching Sunset play with the automaton. Eventually, with a sigh, she spoke. “I guess that all makes sense, but I’m not sure I agree with your conclusion. “

“You don’t have to agree, but those are the facts. That’s what they are.” Sunset turned her attention back to Twilight. “What do you know about Celestia’s knowledge of golemancy?”

Twilight tilted her head. “As far as I can tell, she only knows the basics. I’ve asked her, and she hasn’t told me more than what it is and some old stories about it, including some fairy tale about a facsimile of her sister. I’m pretty sure we’re both pursuing a lost art.”

Sunset beamed. “I asked her too, once. She told me about a book, one I was forbidden from reading. Of course, dangling something like that in front of ponies like you or me is just asking us to read it.”

As Twilight’s face turned severe, a scowl developing across her lips, Sunset chuckled. “Forbidden and hidden knowledge are just the best, aren’t they?”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but before a sound came out, the door to the library slammed open. Whirling around, she leaned up against the railing and peered down. “You could knock, you know!”

“Apologies.” Following Twilight’s gaze, Sunset figured the pony was making his way to the stairs, and a moment later, a yellow stallion with a frazzled blue mane climbed up beside Twilight. Sweat stuck his mane to the side of his head, and his wings hung loosely, gently fluttering against his side. “I just heard that you had an incident involving two ponies. Based on their descriptions, I was in pursuit of one until I lost them on Bolt Street. I figured you would like to know.”

That was a face Sunset thought she wouldn’t see in the longest time, but that was true of a few other guards. While she couldn’t recall any one of their names, she still turned her head away, letting her mane cover up her face, hoping the same was true in reverse. At the same time, she thought over his words and wracked her brain for a mental map of Ponyville. She mostly memorised locations, followed directions and landmarks, and Ponyville lacked proper signage, so the exercise was frustratingly useless.

“Bolt Street?” Twilight asked. “Couldn’t you have grabbed guards to filter through and find them?”

The stallion shook his head. “There wasn’t much time; they’d already run. I did a preliminary check-up and down the street, and when I found my partner, he filled me in on your situation.”

“Did you run the entire time, Flash?”

He smirked and nodded. “Er, yes. Yes, I did. This armour’s not very good for sweating in.”

Twilight sighed and shook her head. “Alright. That’s the street Rarity lives on. If this is the pony I think it is, then she’ll probably tell us if she saw anything.” Looking over her shoulder at Sunset, Twilight sighed. “I’ll be back for you later.”

The conversation was over then. Twilight began her trot down the stairs and disappeared out the front door, taking several guards with her, including the sweaty one. The mare that poked her head up a while ago replaced her, staring at Sunset as she sat across the table.

That was fine. Let her watch. There wasn’t much Sunset could do without her magic anyway.

Spike remained where Twilight left it last, standing atop the table. While it could balance itself when Sunset tried to disrupt it, it struggled with being flipped over. It gave a token resistance, its legs sticking to the table until Sunset gave it a firm tug, then curled those legs up beneath itself. Sunset lifted one of them up and realised the footpads had no visible mechanical component. She’d heard geckos, and some lizards had tiny little hairs that let them hook onto flat surfaces, but that didn’t appear to be the case for Spike, especially given the pads themselves were made of a smooth crystal. They might have contained a spell to achieve their sticky function inside the crystals.

She spread all of Spike’s legs to better examine the construct from beneath. Despite its quadruped nature, Twilight had taken a lot of inspiration from insects. Spike was covered in a series of metal plates that slid over and interlocked with one another, which Sunset tested the limits of by pressing and pulling with her hooves. It was clumsy, but it revealed plenty about Spike’s general construction.

“Fascinating.”

“Creepy is more like it,” said the mare opposite her, and Sunset blushed when she realised she spoke aloud.

“I guess it is a bit. I’m not really bothered by bugs, but this is a little uncanny.”

“Hate ’em. Swallow enough of them when I’m on flight patrol.” The guard shuddered, and her wings poofed up.

Sunset rolled Spike back over with a chuckle and began plucking at the exoskeleton there. She guessed it had room for improvement, as when Sunset lifted two of its back plates, she found empty space. If they were correctly folded, more limbs could have been folded into gap, maybe even wings. Either that or the space was intended for easy access to the core, though there wasn’t a reason it couldn’t be both if the wings were flexible enough.

“What’s the relationship between Twilight and you guys?” Sunset asked.

Tilting her head, the mare frowned at Sunset. “I thought you’d have figured that out already.”

Sunset chuckled and shoved Spike back. Again, it tried to resist her, but her shove was forceful enough it slid across the tabletop. “Even when I was in Canterlot, I didn’t warrant a full squadron of guards. So, what’s the deal?”

“She is important to the Princess. You don’t need to worry about more than that.”

Gently shaking her head, Sunset wondered if she should ask the mare if she recognised her. That said, she was around the same age as Sunset; it was unlikely she was in the Royal Guard when it would matter. She could ask about her colleagues, figure out who else Sunset might vaguely recall, or put a number to how many were present in Ponyville.

Would it really be helpful information, though? Given the circumstances, showing her face in Ponyville again any time soon wouldn’t make much of a difference. The guards would be present up to and shortly after the Festival, and word of Sunset’s tousle with Twilight would be the talk of the town. She’d always be outnumbered and never be able to lie low.

The more she thought about it, the more Sunset realised she just wanted something to do to distract her. With nothing else to do but wait for Twilight to return, Sunset could either fill it with strategy and wit or worry about Aria.

Stars above, she hoped she was okay.

After tapping a hoof idly on the table for a minute, Sunset spoke. “This is a library. If I’m going to have to sit here, would you mind if I grabbed a book?”

The guardsman looked at her, her head lowered in something a step away from a glare. “Why?”

“Why do you think? I want to read something.”

Another few moments of silent judgement later, the mare shrugged and gestured downstairs. Taking the hint, Sunset made her way down to the main floor.

She was captured. She couldn’t cast magic, but she was still the most intelligent pony in the room as far as she was concerned, even when Twilight was present. Aria was out there alone, but she hadn’t been caught yet. Hopefully, Aria wouldn’t be stupid and come to help Sunset, assuming she even knew where she was held.

The wander gave Sunset an excuse to examine Twilight’s equipment. It wasn’t much different in purpose, but it was rounded, more ergonomic. Panels on the sides of some of the machines revealed their origins. Flim Flam Bros Electronic, Pegasus Dynamics, General Aetheretics.

Celestia, some of those names were stupid.

Before the guard caught on to Sunset’s wandering, she turned her attention to the books. There was, fortunately, a lot of fiction on the shelves despite what Twilight had done to the place. As Sunset looked around, she searched for smaller books, anthologies or short stories. She didn’t want to get too engrossed in something just to be taken out of it by Twilight’s return.

20,000 Hands Beneath the Ocean by Mules Verne.

Sunset had read it before but screw it. It was good enough.

Picking it off the shelf with a hoof, Sunset waggled the book the guard’s way before the pair returned to the alcove. Sunset glanced at some of the tools atop the tables and machines. Perhaps if Sunset found something blunt and heavy…

She decided against it and settled for waiting and reading in the alcove.

Sunset ended up skimming over the words for the most part. At least she was trying, and tried for the next short while, hoping to Celestia something more interesting would come up soon.

The first sign Sunset’s wish would be granted was a shout from out the front door. Sunset and the guard snapped their heads around, watching the front door closely. While it was difficult to see much, the tiny sliver offered Sunset the view of a stallion in golden armour lying on his side.

“Oh no.” Sunset swallowed and stood, quickly garnering the attention of the guardsman.

“What do you mean, ‘oh no’?” she snapped.

More shouting and gasps, the distinct whine of magic, then quiet. It wasn’t silent, there was still plenty of muttering, but the lull in activity didn’t sit well with Sunset.

The glimpse of Aria kicking the front door down didn’t sit well at all.

The guard disappeared over the edge, and Sunset watched her descent by poking her head up enough to peer through the railing.

The sight of Aria’s head turned 180 degrees around made Sunset feel woozy, but she couldn’t look away. She wanted her to give up and run, but at the same time, the sheer fact Aria had got past however many guards outside left Sunset rooting for her.

Right until she had the pegasus on the floor. Sunset pulled away before Aria’s leg came down, but the scream filled in the mental image. Sunset swallowed the bile rising in her throat, watching the stairs for Aria’s ascent.

Aria appeared a moment later, her clothing featuring scrapes and cuts and too many gnarly gouges in her skin for Sunset to forgive. She seemed to wear the damage like a trophy, grinning as she was at Sunset.

“We should get going,” was all she needed to say for Sunset to break into action. Sunset swept up Spike in a leg and descended the stairs while putting every ounce of effort into trying to ignore the whimpering pegasus in the middle of the library.

“That was stupid, that was stupid, that was so very stupid—“The words spilt out of Sunset’s mouth and fell onto dozens of ears as she stepped outside, while she put every ounce of effort to not stare at the two crumpled bodies.

“I would have liked a ‘Thank you,’ but I won’t be too picky right now.”

Comments

[katarjin]

Everything about this is just so damn interesting

[hmaf43]

Nightmare Moon is a golemmancer?

[kits]

This Twilight is a massive asshole and I hope she gets called on it and that it fucking breaks her self image.

What a dick.

[AFanaticRabbit]

11597763
I live for this reaction

[kits]

11597827
Should have made it dusk shine for that extra creep out dirtbag factor :P

[SigmasonicX]

Another good set of chapters! Interesting to see how Twilight acts in this AU. I somehow didn't expect Twilight to be notably younger than Sunset, or for the entire "student of Celestia" thing to come into play. The bit about Celestia having made a golem of her sister reminds me of Egophiliac's old MLP Steampunk AU comics.

[Carnifaxy]

Damn, Celestia had multiple students at once and neither of them knew the others existed until now.