Tranquility
One week.
Adagio poured herself a glass of wine and reclined in her most comfortable chair. She set her glass down on the desk beside her and picked up a book, taking a moment to examine the familiar cover. The book was one of her favorites, a fantastic tale that she had put off re-reading for far too long.
Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t quite recall all the details of it. Something about a priest turning against his god to reclaim his lover’s soul, if she remembered correctly. As one might expect, a priest could do little to contest a deity’s will, but it was such a romantic gesture.
With such a calm, quiet night of ahead of her, she ought to have been excited, or at least content.
Instead, she sat almost motionless in her chair lost in thought. Many ideas swirled around in her mind, but one train of thought dominated.
One week.
Doing her best to put her thoughts aside, she opened up her book and stared at the first page, intent on enjoying her night of relaxation. There were many words on the page, but she saw only a few of them and read even fewer.
One week and it will all be over. One week and we will be strong again.
Her right hand held the book in place while her left picked up her glass and lifted it to her mouth. She didn’t notice it until the glass touched her lips, but her hand was shaking.
Everything is set, she told herself. Perhaps a few more choice words needed to be spoken, but her plan was well underway.
The wine tasted good, she supposed. Once she had her sip, she set the glass back down. Her eyes drifted back to her book, but still she saw nothing. Her free hand, almost of its own volition, crawled up her chest to her pendant and lovingly cradled her gem.
I can do it. I will do it. I will not fail. I know that I will not fail.
She struggled to convince herself of her resolve, but still she trembled.
Her mind filled with images as vivid as the day she had first seen them. She saw herself and her sisters, bruised and battered, helpless to resist as a hole opened in the world and swallowed them. She saw the sky and the ground blend together in a whirling storm of kaleidoscopic light that seared her eyes and scorched her skin.
She had failed once. Was it so impossible that it could happen again?
Of course it was. But she was older. Wiser, more cunning. They had lost the first time because the most clever unicorn in the world has caught them by surprise. What chance did a band of little girls have, now that she was more cautious?
Despite her protests to the contrary, her doubt lingered. Her eyes lowered to her shaking hands and what little remained of her resolve began to crumble. She quickly closed her eyes so that they did not see one of the many mirrors scattered about her room, for was certain that the face she would see would be one pale and wracked with doubt. She heard nothing but her own heavy, erratic breaths.
Stop. You’re better than this. You can’t do this. Not now.
Doubt had no place in her mind at such a crucial time. She needed to calm herself.
Daring to open her eyes, she saw a glimpse of her window and looked out over the city.
The sky was clear, she noted. Not a cloud in sight.
Perhaps some fresh air would help to clear her thoughts. She set down her book, drained her glass and quickly walked out the door.
A moment later, she darted back into her room, rummaged through her desk for a pen and paper, and left an impeccably neat note on her door detailing her whereabouts. She stared at it for a moment.
A few quick flourishes made it more presentable. She walked away having the slight, slight satisfaction of having done something right.
Sometimes it was the small things, she mused.
Far removed from the urban heart of Canterlot, a trail wound its way up a hill, twisting and turning but climbing ever higher. A brilliant full moon rained light upon the land, bathing the trail in a silvery glow. A cool breeze occasionally blew, intermittently chilling an otherwise warm night just enough to be soothing without being frigid. Even on such a perfect night, the hill itself remained nearly completely isolated, as most campers and travelers favored the lower, more easily accessible regions of the wilderness. Especially at night, the trail went almost unused.
Adagio silently marched up the trail with her hands tucked into her pockets and her sweater's hood pulled up, occasionally glancing ahead to see how far she had to go.
There was a reason for her to go so far, of course. The night was perfect. If ever there was a better night to go for a walk, it would surely be among the rarest of occurrences. The fresh air had already done wonders to calm her nerves, though she found the accompanying dirt and filth tiring at best and aggravating at worst. She might have considered turning back, but she had already invested a great deal of her time; the hill was more than an hour's drive from her home, and the walk added almost another hour. It would be a terrible waste to go all that way for nothing. Troublesome, but sometimes the city was just too bright.
Finally, she reached the unassuming landmark she had been seeking, almost at the hill's peak. There were several other more accessible spots where she could have gotten the view she wanted, but those were likely to have other people on such a perfect night. There was a particular cliff where there laid a large rock, conveniently flat and large enough to sit on. Easy enough to find, but so far away from the nearest parking lot that few found it worth the effort.
She walked over to the rock and quickly sat down, eager to get off her sore feet. The moment she made contact with the cold, rough stone, she questioned how desperate she must have been, shifting in a vain attempt to establish some level of comfort before resigning herself to her fate and lying back.
For all the discomfort the outdoors brought, the view almost made up for it all. Above the trees and with nary a cloud in the sky, Adagio beheld the night sky in its full unobstructed majesty, a sea of countless glimmering motes of light suspended in a ravenous black. The greatest of seamstresses dreamed in their wildest fantasies of weaving a tapestry half as beautiful.
But Adagio was no stranger to mere beauty. If that was all she cared to see, she could have spared herself the trouble and looked in a mirror or spoken to her sisters.
When she first came to the human world, she recognized nothing. The earth, the lands, the people... even the sea she once loved was strange and foreign to her. The entire world felt dull and bleak, lacking the vibrancy and wonder of even the most mundane of Equestrian lands.
The sky, though… she knew that sky. Whether by the design of an unseen creator or merely a quirk of whimsical chance, the two worlds had the same sky. Even after a dozen lifetimes, the sky remained her constant companion, a single faint trace of familiarity. It comforted her when nothing else could.
Adagio looked up at the sky and relaxed, letting her mind wander. For a little while, she forgot all about the struggles of the present. She turned her eye to her past and she remembered.
She remembered lazy nights off the coast of Equestria, where she draped her scaly body over the rocks and gazed fondly at the twinkling lights above. If she let her mind wander, she could almost smell the sea breeze, even feel the waves gently lapping at her tail. Moonlight glimmered on the surface of her illusive ocean. As she relaxed, she grew more and more detached, until she could almost have fooled herself into thinking that she had finally escaped. She heard the chirping of seagulls roused and lured by her enchanting voice. A wave crested just high enough to reach her, drenching her in soothing water. Her glossy scales glinted in the moonlight. If only in her mind and if only for a few fleeting moments, she was free.
Her fantasy grew so enrapturing that all her troubles faded, washed away by an imaginary tide. Though her body remained where it was, her mind returned to simpler times, when she had nothing but her sea, her sisters and her song and she desired nothing more. Simpler times. If only they had lasted.
Unfortunately, her fantasy, timeless though it may have felt, was only an ephemeral distraction eventually broken by the sound of a clomping boot.
The moment she sat up, she heard a startled voice behind her. "Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you."
She knew that voice.
Adagio looked over her shoulder, and sure enough, there was Sunset Shimmer. Fiery hair, ugly leather jacket and garish boots, everything. Quite possibly the single person she least wanted to see.
"You."
Sunset peered at her, lurching back when she saw the gem around Adagio's neck. "Adagio? What’re you doing here?"
"You first." Adagio glowered. "I simply can’t be rid of you, can I?"
"I had no idea you’d be here, Adagio." Sunset’s eyes narrowed into a scrutinizing squint. "This isn’t all part of your plan, is it?"
"Yes, I was going to sit on a rock just in case you happened to wander past. I don’t know what I was thinking, hoping you wouldn’t see it coming."
"I… guess it does sound a little silly, when you say it that way." Sunset sighed, then frowned. "Then where are the other two? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without them."
"Excellent question," Adagio replied, folding her arms and grimacing. "They are not here, and that is all you need to know. As much as I'd like to say otherwise, my presence here has nothing to do with you."
"Okay…” Sunset’s eyes flitted back and forth before settling back on Adagio. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So what are you doing here, then?"
Adagio gave a flippant shrug. "I’ve had a bad day, if you couldn’t tell." She fluttered her hand in the general direction of the sky. "I needed something pretty to look at and Aria stole all my mirrors. Now, back to you."
"Well…" Sunset scratched her neck, smiling sheepishly. "I was actually hoping to do some stargazing myself."
You have got to be kidding me. Adagio hung her head and sighed heavily. "And you came all the way out here because you know that nobody else does."
Sunset nodded. "Pretty much. I can go, though. I mean, I’d hate to make your night any worse. This is a lovely night and I didn't have much else to do, but I'm sure I can find someplace else."
With one hand, Adagio clutched her forehead and lamented her misfortune. With the other, she waved dismissively. Tempting though it was to scornfully rebuke that nuisance of a girl, she reasoned it might be easier to simply avoid thinking about her. "Do whatever you want," she snapped. "I couldn’t care either way."
"Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.
"It’s a big cliff," Adagio hissed. "I see no reason why we can’t share. Sit down, shut up, and we’ll get along just fine."
"Are you—"
"I have nothing more to say to you. Stay. Or don't."
After a few seconds of deliberation, Sunset nodded. "Okay," she said. Her voice reeked of skepticism. "If you say so." She quickly sat down beside the rock a couple feet away from Adagio.
With that momentary diversion handled, Adagio turned her gaze to the stars, folding her arms, gritting her teeth and staring at the sky determined not to give that insolent little girl the satisfaction of ruining her night of relaxation.
She did her best to lose herself again in the whims of her imagination. Unfortunately for her, she found that no matter how hard she tried, she remained at least mostly grounded in reality. Sunset Shimmer, an individual with every reason to despise her, was calmly sitting not ten feet away from her, and she felt almost compelled to glance in that direction once in awhile just to make sure nothing had changed. Quite bothersome, really, but she couldn't shake the suspicion that Sunset had known she would be there.
Even so, she might have eventually relaxed again, but on more than one occasion, she caught Sunset looking in her direction only to turn away and give a murmured apology once she was noticed.
The first time it happened she ignored it. The second time, she began to wonder. The third time, she could take no more.
"What do you want?"
Sunset flinched, shuffling farther away. "Sorry! I didn’t mean to—"
"You’ve been staring," Adagio stated. "What do you want?"
Sunset's face flushed. "Oh, it’s… it’s nothing. Don’t mind me."
Adagio tilted her head and glared at Sunset. "Don’t lie to me, little girl. If there’s something that you want to say, then stop wasting my time and say it."
"Okay." Sunset breathed deeply and spoke in a shaky tone, clearly hesitant. "Why are you looking at the stars?"
Well that was disappointing. "There are other people that do this, you know." Adagio scoffed, haughtily tossing her hair. "It’s hardly unusual."
Sunset breathed again, and her voice was a little more clear when she replied. "That's true, but you came an awfully long way just for something that looks pretty. If all you wanted was take a break, I’m sure you could have found something closer. I was just wondering if there was more to it than that."
"Who says there has to be? Not you, I hope."
"I’m not. It’s a beautiful sky. No reason you can’t appreciate it just for what it is." Sunset looked up and sighed. There was a long pause before she spoke, and when she did, she did so in a somber tone laced with melancholy. "I had a teacher once, back in Equestria. Probably the kindest person I ever met. I only knew her for a few years, but I think she cared for me even more than my mother did and... she loved stargazing. Tried to get me interested as well, but it just never really clicked with me." Sunset sniffled a little, wiping her face to check for tears. "I guess this is my way of remembering her."
Adagio listened in silence, speaking only when Sunset had finished. "She’s no longer with you."
"No." Sunset paused, closing her eyes and sighing again. "She’s still alive, as far as I know. Hard to imagine her dying on me. She’s just… back in Equestria, but who knows? Maybe I’ll see her again someday." She took a moment to collect herself and looked back at Adagio with a morose frown. "Sorry. I guess you didn’t come here to listen to me ramble about my issues. It’s just that I’ve never met someone who knows what it feels like to be from another world. My friends try to understand, but… they don’t. They never will." She managed a faint smile and then turned away. "Thanks for letting me vent. I'll be quiet now."
The way Sunset spoke had sounded almost reverent, as if she were speaking more of an angel than a person. As Adagio listened, she felt a slight, pang of guilt creeping up on her. It felt wrong to her that she couldn’t even be bothered to answer honestly while Sunset had given such a heartfelt answer to her own question
But if that fleeting sense of injustice was all that Adagio felt, she could have dismissed it on a whim and never looked back.
She felt a connection to Sunset. A kinship, as it were. They had both lost something dear to them, and when nothing else could soothe their pain, they turned to the stars. Two lost souls separated from their homes that clung to even the faintest shred of familiarity. It was almost romantic.
I suppose I could indulge her for a little while, Adagio mused. "You never looked at the sky in Equestria?"
"Once or twice, maybe. I never found it worth my time."
"I see." Adagio hesitated, thinking how easy it would be to simply remain silent and let the night pass uneventfully. Instead, on a whim, she kept talking. "They’re the same."
At first, Sunset frowned. Then the realization hit her and her eyes widened. "Oh," she gasped. "I never thought—"
"Of course you didn’t." Adagio turned in place to lock eyes with Sunset. "This world is foreign to me, even after so many years, but the sky… I know that sky. When I look at it, it’s like I’m back home, if only briefly."
"That's... incredible." Sunset’s eyes glinted with excitement as she put a hand on her chin and thought aloud. "I guess that would make sense, if this world is an alternate version of Equestria, but... I can’t even begin to imagine what that must feel like."
Despite her earlier mood, Sunset’s enthusiasm almost put a smile on Adagio’s face. Almost. "It feels good to be so fortunate," Adagio said, gazing fondly at the stars. "There’s nothing quite like it, is there?"
"Nothing even comes close."
Silence fell once again, but it was a more comfortable silence, just a few short minutes where a bystander would be forgiven for thinking the two girls were friends. They took comfort in simply sharing their sense of wonder with another who appreciated it. Though Adagio could have used the time to reminisce and fantasize, she found herself more than content to simply savor the calm. There was something soothing about knowing that she was not the only one.
All the while, she reminded herself that the night, peaceful though it may have been, was only an interlude. When they met again, their conflict would no doubt resume.
Although…
There’s still a few more nights until it all ends.
"You should come out here more often," Adagio remarked.
"I might like that," Sunset replied. "I started coming all the way out here so that I could have some time to myself, but I guess having some company isn’t so bad." She sighed, smiling faintly. "Especially someone who just… gets it, you know?"
"I imagine most wouldn’t." Adagio only glanced briefly at Sunset, keeping her gaze fixed on the stars. "It’s a pity we didn’t meet earlier. I think I might have liked having someone to talk to."
"You have your sisters, don’t you?"
"Someone intelligent to talk to, I mean. Those idiots wouldn't know a nice thing if I hit them over the head with it. You've no idea the kind of trouble they'd get themselves into without me."
Sunset chuckled. "If it were far enough back, I wouldn’t have been much better. I’d probably have tried to con you into helping me steal a crown and then stab you in the back the second I thought I could get away with it." Shortly after she finished speaking, she winced.
"Wouldn’t that have made a good story?" Adagio flashed a sly smirk. "I might have liked getting to work with someone competent for a change."
"Maybe, but I doubt it would have ended well."
Not for you. Adagio chuckled lightly and changed the subject. "You've been here for some time, I gather. What brought you here?"
"If… it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about it." Sunset winced again. "Bad memories. Things didn't go well."
"I see. Would you ever go back, if you could?"
"To Equestria?" Sunset sighed, resting her head in her hands. "I thought about it. Actually tried a little while ago, but now... I don't know. I mean, things really didn't go well the last time I was there. Maybe one day, but not anytime soon. Besides, I’ve got friends here now. I’m not sure I’d want to leave them." She looked to Adagio. "What about you?"
"I have been here for a very long time," Adagio replied, idly examining her fingernails. "If I were to find a way to go back, I imagine Equestria would be as foreign to me now as this world was. Those stars are the only thing I would recognize." She sighed wistfully.
"Yeah. I…" Sunset trailed off, taking a minute to gather her thoughts. "I’m glad you have something like that. It must have been hard, being taken away like that."
Adagio curled her hand into a fist and glanced at Sunset out the corner of her eye. She remembered a hat with jingling bells that made her blood boil. Her lips twisted into a scowl. "Some would say that I deserved it."
"I wouldn’t. That’s a terrible thing to do to someone, no matter what they’ve done. To just abandon you on another world like that… I would never do that to someone."
Adagio went rigid, quietly seething. If the softness and gentleness of Sunset’s voice weren’t enough, her tragic expression made her feelings clear.
Pity. Sunset pitied her.
What use was sympathy? Sympathy gave her nothing, not a single scrap of value.
Although…
She could say the same thing about her anger. And perhaps there was something to be gained from pity.
Adagio pushed her anger to the side and assumed a more gentle tone. "And yet you still oppose me." She edged closer to Sunset, as close as she could on her rock. Her voice dropped to a volume barely above a whisper. "I only want what I once had. Surely you can appreciate the lengths I would go to set things right."
Sunset looked at Adagio and slowly shook her head. "No, I can’t. I can sympathize, but what you’re doing to those students is wrong."
"Is it? All that I want is what was taken from me in an act that you yourself believe unjust." Adagio pivoted, swinging her legs around so that she could fully face Sunset. "It's only fair, don't you think? A thousand years is a long time to be punished."
"I know. I get that. Really, I do." Sunset put up her hands in a peaceful gesture. "It’s unfortunate that you’ve had to go through all that, but that doesn’t make what you’re doing right. You’re hurting people, Adagio. A lot of people."
"Am I? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say those students have never been happier." Adagio’s lips curled into a smirk. "Look at the bliss on their faces and tell me that they are in pain. Listen to the love in their voices when they speak my name and tell me that they loathe me. Watch them plead and beg for my affection and tell me that they do not desire me." She giggled lightly under her breath. "Just think about all those things they don't need to worry about anymore... I wonder how many would take their freedom if I were to offer it." Adagio glanced at Sunset with a sly look. "But you don’t care about any of that, do you?" She leveled an accusing finger at Sunset. "If some of them wanted to stay the way they are, you wouldn't let them, would you? You don’t care what they want, you care about what you think is right."
"I could say the same thing about you," Sunset replied, folding her arms and staring back at Adagio with brazen defiance. "Would you let any of them go if they asked?"
"Perhaps, if they’re nice enough and I’m in a good mood." Adagio giggled again before giving Sunset her cruelest smile. "If they were to ask, that is. But they won’t. Not. A single. One."
"Give them a chance. If you really think some of them would willingly remain under your spell, then let them decide for themselves." Sunset stood up and stared down at Adagio. "If their opinions are so important, then let them be heard."
Adagio responded to the threat with a coy smirk and a mocking barb. "Just like you did?" When Sunset faltered, Adagio knew that she struck a nerve and kept going. The poor girl was so easy to demoralize. "Explain to me how what you did was any better."
"It wasn’t," Sunset stated, her voice low and morose as her head hung. "Who knows? Maybe it was even worse. But now there’s not a day when I don’t regret it. I care about those people, Adagio. I’m not heartless like you. Not anymore."
Adagio went silent for a moment.
Don't you dare.
Her smug smirk quickly faded, giving way to a blank look that then twisted into a vicious scowl. She glared upwards at Sunset, piercing her with cold, intense eyes smoldering with barely subdued anger. "You might think me cruel," she hissed, her voice lowering to a snarl, "and maybe I am. But do not think, even for a moment, that my heart, however black, is blind to love."
Sunset shrank back, visibly unnerved. "You mean…"
"I have stood by them for a dozen lifetimes, little girl. They mean more to me than you could possibly know." Adagio’s voice wavered, and her eyes fell to the ground. "If this is what it takes for us to be strong again, then this is what I must do."
Sunset locked eyes with Adagio, staring at her with puzzled eyes. Then, a few long seconds later, Sunset’s eyes lit up with understanding and her expression became one of sympathy. "I don’t want to fight you, Adagio. If there is any way that all this can end peacefully, I want to find it."
Adagio straightened her posture and stood up. "Then you don’t need to look hard. I only want one thing. Give it to me, and I swear that I will leave you all in peace." She absentmindedly lifted her left hand to her gem, cradling it and lovingly stroking its lustrous surface. "Help me get the magic that I desire." An addendum formed in her mind and escaped her lips almost before she realized it. "I’m sure there’d be some left over, if you were interested." She reached out to let her hand rest on Sunset’s shoulder.
Sunset looked down at Adagio’s hand and carefully removed it. "No. I’m not going to betray my friends, Adagio. Not for you."
Adagio retracted her hand. She had a strange feeling, thinking that she really ought to be furious that Sunset would refuse her generosity, but she simply didn’t feel angry. Maybe a little, perhaps, but only a little. "Pity," she murmured, lost in thought. I understand. I suppose I would do the same, were the three of us in their shoes. Adagio carefully masked whatever sympathy she might have felt, hiding it behind a veil of haughty indifference. "It’s a shame that you think that way. You interest me."
"Is there no way? No way that this can end well?"
You could give up, Adagio thought. But you won't. And neither will I, but I cannot fault you for standing by those that are dear to you. "A happy ending for me is when I win. A happy ending for you is when I lose. I gave you a chance," Adagio replied, her voice calm and smooth. "You refused. Whether we wish it or not, you stand in my way."
Sunset paused, looking at Adagio with mournful eyes. There were no tears in her eyes, but Adagio felt they were well on their way. "And… what if things were different?"
"Just like you said. I'm not like you," Adagio replied, pulling back and turning to leave. "It was nice talking."
"Wait," Sunset said. When Adagio looked at her expectantly, she continued. "Maybe I just caught you in a good mood, but you’ve been a lot nicer tonight than you’ve been at school. You have a softer side, don't you? I don't think you show it often, but I saw a little of it earlier."
"Maybe." Adagio shrugged nonchalantly. "What does it matter if there is?"
"There’s still time to change, Adagio. If you believe nothing else I say, then believe me when I say that you do not have to do this." Sunset held out her hand. "I want to get to know you better, to understand why you do the things that you do and say the things that you say. I want to be your friend. I am certain you can find another way to be happy, if you would only look for it."
Adagio eyed Sunset carefully. She looked into those kind, tragic green eyes. There was a sense of longing in them that pained her to see.
Though she loathed to admit it, the offer was an appealing one. She felt a connection with Sunset that she suspected she could share with few others. Surely, if there was only one other person whom she could call a friend, it would be Sunset, or someone of a similar background.
But at the same time…
I cannot change my nature, and neither can she. She will try to stop me from taking back what was once mine.
If I find a place for her in my heart, then she shall surely break it. She isn’t worth it.
Whatever she felt, whether it be relief or despair, she locked it away behind a stony facade and paid it no heed. When she spoke, she did so with the utmost calm, as if there were not a trouble to be found in her imaginary world. "Perhaps under better circumstances, I wouldn’t mind getting better acquainted. As I said, you interest me." Adagio reached out again, softly laying her hand on Sunset’s cheek. "But you are a pony, and I am a siren. You crave harmony, while I am nourished by strife. You treasure bonds while I am enriched by breaking them. You are kind and I am cruel, you are warm and I am cold. For all our similarities, we cannot coexist. Not without conflict. Perhaps it is better that we not try."
Sunset shook her head. "I don’t believe that."
"I do." Adagio quickly leaned in, giving Sunset a chaste kiss on the forehead before pulling back. She turned away so that she did not have to keep looking at Sunset's mournful expression, and then, as she walked away, she uttered two words that she rarely spoke.
"I'm sorry."‘