> Resplendence Revoked
>  by NaiadSagaIotaOar
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Fracture
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Power. It surged through her veins, filling her entire body with a strength that she had not known for centuries but never forgotten. Her song grew louder with each passing second, spreading over the crowd and clouding their minds with a murky haze. All eyes turned to her, every single one glinting with desire and affection. An eerie hush fell over the crowd, each and every spectator swaying gently in time with the music. Though they did not cheer, she knew that they thought of nothing but her.

Then another song shook the air, sung by voices she knew and loathed. She turned her baleful crimson eyes towards the hills and her lips spread into a wicked, mirthless smile. She mustered her strength, exultant at being gifted an opportunity to exercise it so quickly. A living shadow of her once resplendent form took flight above her, descending upon her foes with piercing notes shrieking from a fanged maw. 

Her enemies fought back, of course. They struck back with all that they had, for it took every drop of effort for them to even match her. She saw her sisters recoiling beside her, but still she pressed her assault, thoroughly confident in her own power. Her song reached its highest crescendo yet, crushing all resistance and scattering her enemies. An electrifying bliss of victory rushed through her, exciting her every sense beyond even the ecstasy that came with her newfound power. 

If only for a moment, all was silent. She breathed heavily, panting as her heart raced. She heard the echoes of her song fading and knew beyond all doubt that her victory had been sealed. Throwing her head back, she let out a booming, malevolent cackle.

But then, just when her glee peaked, another voice began to sing. A beautiful voice, nearly as lovely as her own. Every word hung in the air, resonating with a captivating melody. To her dismay, she saw her enemies, though beaten and battered, rising once more to accompany their new ally into the fray.

She gathered her song, ready to strike again, but faltered when she felt a wave of magic washing over her, imbued with strength that dwarfed even her own. For the first time, she felt truly insignificant as Harmony itself split the sky and struck her down with a multicolored beam of piercing light. Her spell crumbled in an instant, the formidable strength she had worked so hard to obtain fading rapidly and turning into a lance of agony that seared her chest. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath and raking at her suddenly bare throat. 

It all happened so fast she barely had time to realize what had happened, but the next thing she knew, she was running off into the night with her sisters close behind.





Not until they all stood in the safety of their living room did any of them pause, even to look at each other or to speak. They stood in a circle, each one holding the shattered remnants of their once-magnificent pendants. Their eyes flitted back and forth, each one looking to their sisters in the hopes that one of them would be able to bring at least a little comfort. 

Adagio grit her teeth, damning her silver tongue for losing its eloquence when it mattered most. She racked her brain for something to say, but no words came. No orders. No plan. No consolation. All she did was stare at her gem, letting the reality of their situation sink in.

Silence reigned in their home, agonizing silence tinged with palpable despair until Sonata broke it with a soft voice.

"Adagio?"

The sound snapped Adagio out of her stupor. She lifted her head to look, but regretted her decision when she saw the look of desperation on Sonata's face.

"What are we going to do now?"

And there it was. The one question she hoped not to be asked, but of course it was the first one to be posed. Still, she knew that she had to say something, if only to deflect the question and maintain a confident facade. For as long as they had been in the human world, her sisters had always looked to her for guidance. She had to stay strong. For them. "It's been a long night," she said, hating how her voice cracked and wavered. "Go to sleep. Rest. We'll... talk in the morning." 

Aria opened her mouth, doubtless ready to protest, but a stern look promptly silenced her. Her grimace hardened to a scowl, but she complied with Adagio's command as she always did and marched up the stairs. She remained silent, but it was a different sort of silence, brooding and grim rather than despondent. 

Sonata lingered for a moment, staring at Adagio with those wide, pleading eyes of hers before turning and following Aria. 

Adagio stood in place, silence returning as the sounds of her sister's footsteps faded. For a moment or two, she kept her eyes locked on those fragments, still processing what had gone down earlier that night. She had felt such a rush of power that the prospect of defeat sounded absurd, but that was exactly what had happened. They lost. If only for a moment, she had it all. Everything that she had wanted, right in the palm of her hand and it slipped away in the blink of an eye. Their victory had been torn from them just when they were starting to enjoy it. 

Rest, she told herself. I'm not thinking straight. Not right now.

She kept the fragments of her gem close to her chest as she ascended the stairs and returned to the security of her bedroom, where she set the fragments down on her desk, careful not to lose even a sliver. Before she took her own advice, she turned to her closet and looked at her reflection. Her face and body were still the same, still graced with a quality of perfection that few could match, but beyond that everything was in shambles. Though her features were still the same, her beauty was marred by tangled hair and pained eyes. Even her dress, the one that she had adored and worn with such pride, looked suddenly hideous, a grotesque reminder of the tragedy she had worn it to.

She lingered just long enough to tear the offending garment off and throw it into the corner before crawling underneath her covers, laying back and struggling to relax. The second she laid down, her hand unconsciously felt her neck again. There had been a time, back when they first left Equestria, that the gem felt unnatural hanging from her neck, but she had grown accustomed to it over the years. Its absence was torturous. She writhed and wriggled, scratched and rubbed in a vain attempt to alleviate her discomfort.

It was an hour until her fatigue overcame her and her eyes finally began to close, but another hour until she finally drifted into a restless slumber.





The sound of her door creaking open roused her. She grumbled, reluctantly forcing herself to sit up. A part of her wanted to ask what time it was, but she decided that seeing what had awoken her was more important. She squinted in the dim light, vaguely aware that there was a blurry shape in her  doorway.

She tried to speak, but the most she managed was an incoherent mumble mixed with a yawn. Her head lolled towards her shoulder, her weary neck unable to support herself.

The blur inched closer and spoke in a strangely familiar voice. “Adagio?” 

Lying back against the wall, Adagio clutched her forehead and struggled to think. “Sonata? Is that you?” When she heard sniffling, she lowered her hand and sat upright. 

Sonata stepped closer until she was next to the bed. It was hard to make out her face in the poor light, but a tear dripping down her cheek glistened in a stray ray of moonlight shining through the window.

Adagio leaned forward, reaching out to take Sonata’s hand and squeeze it gently. “Are you alright, Sonata?”

Hesitantly, Sonata shook her head and murmured a quiet, “No.”

“Sit down,” Adagio said, carefully coaxing Sonata to sit on the bed. “Tell me what’s wrong.” She already knew the answer, dim though her thoughts may have been. How could it be anything else?

Sonata stammered for a moment and spoke exactly what Adagio anticipated. “Are we ever going to get our voices back?”

Fortunately, the darkness concealed Adagio’s wince, though the way she paused likely said all that her shrouded face did not. “I don’t know,” she said, hating the doubt she heard in her own voice. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.” She wanted to say more, to tell Sonata that everything would be fine, but she wasn't sure she wanted to lie.

Sonata went silent, staring at the ground and pausing for several long seconds before she spoke again, barely loud enough to be heard. “Did we lose because of me?”

If she was not alert before, those words broke Adagio completely out of her stupor. Her other hand went up to cup Sonata’s cheek and gently lift her head. She looked into Sonata's eyes and spoke earnestly. “Don’t say that, Sonata." She racked her brain for something more to say, but could only fall back on the same empty words she had said before. "Rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Reluctantly, Sonata nodded. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Of course.”

Sonata slid across the bed to Adagio. Without speaking a word, Adagio wrapped her arms around Sonata and pulled her closer. Sonata also remained silent, curling up and resting her head on Adagio’s shoulder, sobbing softly. What a sorry sight they must have been, so far removed from their formidable heritage.

Say something. Comfort her. She shouldn’t have to cry like this.

No words came. Tears flowed freely from Sonata’s eyes and Adagio could do nothing to stop them. She wished that there was something she could say, but to her eyes the night was so bleak that there were no words to say that could make it bearable. With nothing else to do, she settled for staring forward so that she did not have to torture herself by looking at tears that she could do nothing to stop.

They’re gone. Broken. Shattered.

We failed.

No.

I failed. If I had been more careful, then maybe...

She reminded herself again that she was not thinking rationally, that her judgment was clouded by surprise and weariness. However valid her thoughts may have been, she pushed them to the side. If all she could think of was misery, then it would be better to not think at all.

Because she wouldn’t cry, no matter what happened. She couldn’t cry. Not in front of them.
> Mourning
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morning finally came, bringing with it rays of sunlight shining through the curtains.

Sonata stirred, grumbling and sticking her head under a pillow to block the light. She laid in place for a minute or two, only dimly aware that she was even awake at all. When she did realize that she was awake, she also came to the conclusion that it was very cold outside the blankets and that it would be silly to subject herself to such a trying environment. Even so, she had a nagging feeling that there was something she was supposed to be up early for, so she decided to get up. She thought about throwing the covers off and springing out of bed, beaming with joy at the coming of a new day.

In a few minutes, anyway. Adagio wasn't screaming at her, ergo she still had time to relax. She curled up next to the pillows while one hand idly fumbled around the bed for one of the many stuffed animals she kept close by for cuddling purposes.

Only there weren't any. That was strange.

Sonata poked her head out from under the pillow and squinted. The mattress felt luxurious and delightfully fluffy just like the one she expected, but the frilly purple and gold bed sheets made her frown with suspicion. The bookshelves lining the walls, the fancy chandelier hanging over her and the unusual abundance of mirrors quickly led her to start formulating a conclusion.

This.

In her weary, half-asleep state, more than one word at a time was simply asking too much.

Isn’t.

My.

Room.

Alright. That cleared up… something, at least. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching her arms and yawning heavily before standing up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Then she stared at the floor, hanging her head while her brain slowly warmed itself up. Over time, she gradually gained enough awareness to deduce her whereabouts. 

Okay. I'm in Dagi's room. But... why would I...

Her head snapped up, eyes flinging open as memories of the night before brought a sudden rush of clarity. 

Momentarily hopeful, she lifted her hand to her neck, feeling for a gem that she knew to be absent. For just a moment, she hoped that she had awoken from a terrible nightmare, and that everything would be fine now that she was awake. Her shoulders slumped and her heart sank when she realized that she hadn’t been dreaming. Her gem was gone. Broken. The shards were on a table in her room. But that wasn’t so bad, right? Maybe they could be put back together. And if not, she could always get another gem. Maybe an even prettier one. Adagio probably had dozens of jewels lying around somewhere.

She looked at herself in a mirror and immediately frowned. The hair she had spent so much time brushing the night before was matted and tangled, the outfit that she hadn't bothered changing out of was wrinkled and disheveled and her face was pale. Most importantly, there was a patch of tender bare skin just below her neck, where once had dangled a gleaming crimson gem. Had she been wrapped from head to toe in steel, she still would have felt naked without that gem, vulnerable and exposed to a suddenly dangerous world. Just looking at it brought a dull, aching pain in her throat and a reminder that she couldn't sing anymore. She tried imagining another gem in its place, but that only made her frown harder. It just wasn't the same. She shrank away from the mirror and went out the door, anxiously rubbing her neck the whole time. 

It’s morning. That means Adagio’s got a plan. She always has a plan, right?

Once out in the hall, a pleasant scent drifted lazily through the air. It was composed of a blend of aromas, but a distinct smell of strawberries stood out from the rest. The smell guided her downstairs and towards the kitchen. On their simple but elegant dining table, there was already a plate stacked high with light, fluffy-looking pancakes, with a bowl of neatly diced strawberries and bottles of maple syrup and whipped cream on the side. She eyed them with excitement, but tempting though the food might have been, there were more important things on her mind. She peeked into the kitchen, and to her relief, saw Adagio standing in front of the stove with more pancakes well on the way.

She cleared her throat, consciously standing upright and forcing herself to smile. “Adagio?”

“Sonata.” Adagio did not turn to face her, nor did she offer even the smallest of smiles in return. She stared down at the pan with a vacant expression.

“You said we were going to talk in the morning.” Sonata looked at a clock on the wall for confirmation and then back to Adagio. “It’s morning.”

“Later,” Adagio murmured in a small voice Sonata didn't even know she had, “once Aria’s up. Are you hungry?”

“I… guess so.”

“Then eat.” Adagio gestured idly to the cutlery drawer. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

Sonata frowned, but obediently retrieved a set of utensils and a plate, sat down at the table and stared at Adagio's back.

She’s fine, she told herself. Just doesn’t want to repeat herself. No point in talking to us one at a time, is there?

A nagging voice in the back of her head told her that there was more to it than that, but she chose to be hopeful and started eating, albeit hesitantly.

True to her word, Adagio came over a few minutes later with another stack of pancakes. Unlike Sonata, she still looked pristine, not a hair out of place and dressed in a neat white blouse. On the surface, she looked much the same as she had the day before, still the perfect image of beauty. Even so, there was an uncharacteristic apathy in her, as if something had drained her of the confidence she used to project at will. Her movements were slower, less forceful. When she walked, she strode instead of sauntering. She carried herself with a demeanor that was dispassionate but not disdainful, calm but not smug. She sat down without a word, only briefly looking in Sonata’s direction before she started eating. Continuing the trend of peculiarities, she elected not to comment on Sonata's haggard appearance, giving neither a scathing barb nor a disapproving remark.

They ate in silence, prodding at their plates and chewing with languid motions. Having refrained from eating most of the night prior, they ought to have been famished, but both of them barely felt like eating. The food just didn't feel filling, not like even the morsels of negativity they used to sustain themselves on. It wasn't long before Adagio dropped the pretense and stopped entirely, taking one last bite before standing up without a word, taking her plate into the kitchen and setting it down by the sink. “Just leave it all out when you’re done,” she said in a voice just loud enough to be heard. “I’ll take care of it later.”

Sonata watched Adagio with a frown on her face, quickly following suit and taking her dishes to the kitchen. If she had wanted to, she could have eaten a little more, but the food was a trifling thing, enjoyable in the moment but ultimately meaningless whereas a troubled Adagio could be an enduring source of distress. She went back just in time to catch Adagio going up the stairs.

“Adagio? Are we going to talk?”

At the sound of her name, Adagio paused. She took a long time to answer, forcing words out as if it harmed her to utter them. "Wait in your room," she stated. For a second, Sonata thought she saw Adagio's expression falter, showing a hint of pain. "I'll come get you when I'm ready."

Sonata nodded and went up the stairs behind Adagio, splitting off to go down a different hall towards her room. She stepped inside and flopped down on her bed, where she picked up a fluffy plush miniature mammoth and cradled it. The fur felt soft and smooth in her arms, but it lacked the warmth that she craved. She thought back to the night before and wished that Adagio would hold her like that again. Adagio gave good hugs, when she was in the mood.

Don’t worry, Sonata told herself. She’s tired. That’s all. Sonata glanced at her clock, hoping that she would not have to wait very long. She considered changing into something more comfortable, but decided against it. Surely Adagio wouldn’t be long. She was nothing if not efficient, after all. Maybe she had been killing time waiting for her sisters to wake up, but now that one of them was up Adagio would get moving. Sonata just had to stay strong for a little bit until Adagio made everything better.

Thirty seconds turned into a minute. One minute turned into five.

Just relax. Any minute now. 

Five turned to ten.

Sonata huffed, eyes darting around the room looking for something to do while she waited. Staying strong like that turned out to be terribly dull. Who knew? The first thing she laid eyes on was a notebook and a pencil. She picked them up, turned to the first blank page, set her mammoth down beside her and pressed the tip of the pencil to the paper, plundering her mind for an image to draw.

Maybe a dragon, she thought, smiling faintly. Dragons are cool. Simple, too. Just a quick, cute one.

Her drawing started as a vaguely dragon-shaped doodle, then slowly began to blossom as she smoothed it out. A few scribbles turned into a sleek body, a handful of scrawls turned to sweeping horns. When she had the outline, she started adding flourishes. First the scales, which she chose to be a neat pattern of colored diamonds. Then she drew the eyes, wide and innocent like hers but with a distinct rounded vertical oval pupil. She made stumpy legs terminate in blunt claws like those of a mole, for it was the sort of dragon that lived in deep tunnels. Naturally, she still added wings because no dragon was complete without wings. Lastly, every dragon needed a hoard. She initially imagined a nice pile of shiny coins and gems for the adorably diminutive harbinger of doom and destruction to defend, but she winced when she thought of gems.

Maybe I'll just do coins.

A few minutes later, her doodle was complete. She looked it over, nodded with satisfaction and looked up at the door.

Still no sign of Adagio. Sonata sighed. She’s probably just getting Aria out of bed. That always takes awhile.

One more drawing couldn't hurt. She flipped to the next page and started drawing a penguin.





One last squiggly bit completed her latest creation, an entire legion of disarmingly adorable penguins pledged to eternal servitude in the name of their minute-but-terrifying draconic overlord. Quite a feat, if she did say so herself. And she did. Proudly.

Those last few pages went into a haphazard stack of other doodles in the corner, after which Sonata plopped back down on her bed, crossing her legs and eagerly eyeing the door. When another few minutes went by, she frowned and looked at the clock.

Three hours. She had been doodling for three hours. She had been waiting for three hours.

And still no sign of Adagio.

She’s taking an awfully long time. Sonata bit her lip and twirled her hair anxiously. Don’t panic. She knows what she’s doing. She’s gotta know what she’s doing. She always does. 

I just need to wait a little longer. That’s what she said, right?. 

Sighing heavily, Sonata set the notebook aside and laid down, resting her head on her pillows but keeping it high enough to clearly see the door. She had gotten so caught up in her drawings that she hadn't realized how tired she felt. A little rest might have been good for her, she decided.

Her eyes started to get tired, so she closed them. Just for a few minutes, long enough to rest.

When she opened her eyes again, four more hours had passed. The sun was just starting to set over the horizon.

Still she stared at that door, barely awake and drifting in and out of slumber until she fell asleep again.





"Get up."

Sonata grumbled and shoved her face into her pillow. She felt something poking her on the shoulder, so she swatted it away.

"Get up. Now. I'm not asking a third time."

Sonata opened one eye and glanced to the side. There was a blurry shape standing over her. It sounded like Aria and looked vaguely purple and belligerent in a sort of Aria-like kind of way, but it was hard to be certain. Could have been anyone, really. Sonata mumbled an utterance that could have been interpreted as "I don't want to" had she spoken it in a manner that even resembled conventional speech. As it was, it came out as a petulant groan.

She received only a brief grumbling sound as a warning before a pair of hands put themselves on her stomach and flung her out of bed, sending her tumbling heavily to her rump with a startled yelp. The impact did wonders to shake her out of her sleep-induced stupor. Sonata shook her head frantically to wake herself up and then looked up at what she could then definitively identify as Aria in her natural sulky state.

Aria glared at her. "What did Adagio say?"

Sonata blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time.

Aria rolled her eyes and groaned again. "Great," she muttered, "you're still stupid. Good to see nothing's changed. Did you talk to Adagio yet?"

"Huh?"

"She said we were going to talk in the morning." Aria folded her arms and scowled at the clock. "I don't know about you, but she's got a real strange idea of what constitutes morning."

Sonata tilted her head and shrugged. "I saw her at breakfast," she said, smiling hopefully. "She said she was going to go get you. Although, she did seem pretty..." Sonata stared off into space, searching for the right word but never finding it. "Pretty. She was very pretty."

Aria grumbled again. "Whatever. She said she'd come get me? That's what I assumed she would do, but where is she now? I haven't seen her all day."

"She's not here?" Sonata looked at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"Dunno." Aria looked over her shoulder out the door. "Her door's locked, so I figured she went for a walk or something. She didn't tell you anything?"

Sonata shook her head and clambered to her feet, dusting herself off before looking at Aria, concerned. "The last I saw of her was this morning. Do you think she went somewhere?"

"Wouldn't surprise me, but she usually leaves a note or something." With one more roll of her eyes, Aria walked towards the door. "Come on," she said. "Let's go check on her."

Sonata nodded and moved to follow when a thought occurred to her. "Aria? Where were you earlier today?"

"Where do you think? In my room."

"What were you doing there?"

Aria stepped outside, Sonata trailing behind her. "Stuff," Aria stated, curtly. "I'll tell you both about it later."

They went down the hall to Adagio's door, which stood resolutely in the same place as always. Aria walked up and banged on the door. When no response came, she rattled the doorknob to no avail. Grimacing, she knocked one more time, and when no response came, she muttered under her breath, giving the door a parting kick before storming off into her room. She popped back out a minute later wearing a grey hoodie and marched right past Sonata down the stairs.

"Aria? Where are you going?"

"Go back to sleep, Sonata." Aria clenched her teeth, one hand on the doorknob and looking up at Sonata with fierce determination in her eyes. "There's something that I have to do, and I don't need you two bothering me."

"But... what about Adagio? Are you going to look for her?"

Aria scoffed. "What's the point? If she's not in there, then she could be anywhere. Stay here in case she comes back."

With that, Aria stepped outside, leaving Sonata alone. She stood in place for a few minutes, the reality of her day slowly dawning on her, bringing with it a single thought.

They're gone. Both of them.

She sniffled quietly, the first of many tears falling from her eye. If only for a moment, she envisioned a world where both her sisters vanished, and she was alone.

No. Aria said she'd be back soon. And Adagio...

The door hadn't opened. She knew it hadn't, but still she looked. A thought came to her and she went over to the door, where she pressed her ear against the wood and listened intently, hoping for even a faint sign of an occupant.

At first, nothing. She heard nothing.

And then a sound reached her ear. A strange sound that she had heard many times, both from herself and others, but possibly never from Adagio.

Sobbing.

Adagio's crying. She doesn't like to cry.

Sonata hesitantly reached for the doorknob, opening her mouth and hoping that she would find some way to get Adagio to let her in. She thought at first that maybe she would be able to comfort Adagio somehow, just like Adagio had done for her in the past. But surely, if Adagio needed something like that from her, she would ask, wouldn't she? Adagio didn't like to cry, especially not in front of other people. She'd probably be mad if Sonata walked in on her.

Maybe she doesn't want me right now. Maybe she just wants to be alone for a little while. Maybe I'd just make things worse again.

That had to be it. Adagio was strong. Much stronger than Sonata. She'd be alright. 

Or so Sonata thought, or at least thought that she thought. Still, she eyed the door warily as she walked away and shuffled back to her suddenly unsatisfying bedroom. 





Starting the next day, all that Sonata saw of Adagio was that locked door. Occasionally she would hear sounds coming from it. Sometimes it was only a simple shuffling or thumping, other times she heard somber piano melodies. On more than one occasion, she heard faint sounds of sobbing, and was once awoken late at night by an anguished wail. Every day, she checked the door, telling herself that it would just be a little bit longer until it opened. Every day, her hope went unrealized.

As for Aria, Sonata saw her from time to time. She stayed home just long enough to eat before walking out the door. Over time, she started getting up earlier and earlier. Eventually, she was gone by the time Sonata woke up more often than not, but she was always back by evening. Once or twice, Sonata asked her what she was doing, but Aria always gave the same answer: "I'll tell you both later."

Such was the way things went, day after day after day. Before Sonata knew it, it had been a whole week since she had last seen Adagio, and nearly as long since she had spoken to Aria for more than a curt exchange. Though the halls of their house looked the same as they had ten years prior, they felt as cold and desolate as if she were laying eyes on them for the first time. Starting that day, the house was still a house, but it no longer felt like a home.

> Longing
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Adagio?”

No response. Sonata knocked again.

“Adagio?”

No response. She rattled the doorknob, but the door refused to budge.

“Adagio? Are you in there?”

She put her ear to the door, listening for any sign of occupancy. When she heard nothing, whether because the door was too thick or there were no sounds to be heard, she knocked again.

“Adagio? Are you there?”

When no response came and she was greeted only by a silent wall of unyielding wood, she lowered her head and sighed, closing her eyes.

“Please,” she murmured, reaching out and putting her hand on the door. “Come back.”

She paused before opening her eyes and looking at the door hopefully as if her unseen gesture would somehow have changed anything. All she saw was her own hand pressed against the wood. 

"Adagio? Are you alright in there?" She ran her fingers down the door, nails dragging gently against the vexing wood. "If- if you don't want to talk..." She winced, shedding a few more tears. "That's fine. But... I want to see you. Just tell me that you're alright. That's all I want."

When her plea inevitably went unheard, something inside of her snapped. She wondered if Adagio had ever been there, or if she had just been knocking on an empty room and fooling herself into thinking that someone was still inside. Her breaths became quick and heavy and she lifted her hand to knock again, more forcefully.

A moment later she felt a hand gripping her wrist and heard a familiar voice, albeit with a hint more rasp than usual. “Take a break, Sonata.”

“I don’t want to.” Sonata shook her head and stared at the door. “I want to be there when she comes out.”

“She’ll still be here when you come back.” Aria took Sonata’s hand off the door and glared at her. “But this? This is pointless. Just another stupid idea that won't solve anything.”

“What if she never comes back out?” Sonata looked at Aria, eyes wide and pleading. “I don’t want her to leave us.”

“Then she won’t. Give her some time and she’ll come around, but pestering her like this won’t do any good.” 

Before Sonata could respond, Aria wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. Sonata had been hugged before, by both of her sisters. Adagio, when she cared to, gave soft, gentle hugs that could make Sonata feel comfortable and warm, loved and cherished. Aria did not. Her embrace was not soft, not like Adagio’s. Rather, it felt like being wrapped in a wall of stone. In Aria’s arms, Sonata felt, above all else, safe, and that brought with it a little bit of comfort. 

All too eager to reciprocate, Sonata rested her head on Aria’s shoulder and hugged her back. “Why won't she talk to us? I just want her to come back,” she said in between sobs.

“I know. So do I.” Aria carefully stroked Sonata’s hair, a familiar gesture of affection that did wonders to calm her. 

"Then why won't you do something?" Sonata looked up at Aria with pleading eyes. "Where've you been?"

"I've been thinking." Aria paused, hesitating as if debating whether or not to speak but finally settling on shaking her head. "It's not important. Not right now. We can all talk about it when Adagio comes out."

"Tha's what you always say," Sonata protested. "Why are you even here if you're not gonna tell me about it?"

"What, and leave you banging on that door 'till your knuckles are bleeding?" Aria snorted and pulled back, flicking her head towards the stairs. "C'mon. Let's go."

“Go where?”

Aria shrugged. “Dunno. Ice cream sound good to you?”

Sonata stared back at the door, gazing longingly past the wood at the person she hoped was somewhere behind it, alive and well. She wiped the tears from her eyes and reluctantly nodded. At Aria's coaxing, she moved towards the stairs.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”





Inside a bottle of tinted glass, liquid sloshed.

Sprawled out on her bed, isolated in her room, cut off from the rest of the world, and wearing an extremely comfortable nightgown, Adagio lifted a bottle to her lips and tilted it back. Crimson fluid flowed down her throat once again, as it had so frequently in recent days. 

Only a mouthful, and nothing more. Adagio eyed the bottle of wine, licking her lips and then grimacing with disdain. She gave her bottle a little jostle before setting it down on her nightstand where it joined two empty companions. And then she went still, listening intently to the sounds coming from outside her door. She heard that incessant knocking finally slow and then come to a halt. She heard Sonata calling her name over and over and over again. The sound that came next was faint, but in the silence of her isolation, the sound of sniffling and sobbing couldn't have been more obvious.

Just from the sounds, she knew exactly what awaited her outside her door. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Sonata was out there and that she was crying. Of course Sonata was crying. The worst days of their lives and all she could do was cry, cry and plead for someone else to take care of her. Stupid. Worthless. Just like Aria. Even before, when their entire futures were at stake, those two idiots had done nothing that they were not told to do. 

But could she really fault them for that? In her eyes, they would never have been able to pull off something like what they had attempted. Not by themselves. Maybe what they had done had been their best chance of victory. Letting her do all the work had simply been the most sensible option. And if that was the case, then who carried the most blame for their failure? 

Because that's what they did, wasn't it? They failed. Just like before, so many years ago. 

I failed them. All these years I was telling them we'd be strong again and I couldn't do it. Now we're even worse off than we were before.

That thought, that singular, maddening thought permeated her mind and had resolutely kept her inside her room all that time. She knew exactly what she would see if she were to venture outside, but thoughts of what was to come afterwards filled her with dread. For the moment, Sonata clung to her, pleading for instruction, but what would she do when she realized that the one whom she had relied on so many times before had nothing to say? What would Aria think when she admitted that she hadn't been strong enough?

A part of her wanted to go and fling the door open, but just the thought of seeing those that she wronged so severely made her tremble. Every time she thought about leaving, she imagined a new form of punishment that they might inflict on her. Maybe they would settle for simply beating her, or maybe they would disown her entirely, cast her out and demand that she never return. 

And maybe, she thought, they would be right in doing so. Maybe they would be better off without her.

But what would she do, if she were to leave? She couldn't sing, not anymore. The wealth they had in reserve would hold out for a little while if her sisters let her keep some of it, but whatever she could bring with her would be cripplingly finite at best. Without her voice, she'd have to find some other way to sustain herself, and that would perhaps be the worst part of her fate.

She hadn't realized it at first, so lost in her thoughts, but the knocking had stopped completely. Merciful silence graced her once again.

She forced herself to stand upright, breathing deeply and relaxing her shoulders. She thought of going outside for a little while just to stretch her legs, but then she considered that the sudden silence could have been a ploy to lure her out. Aria could be cunning like that, when she put her mind to it. Actually, even Sonata could certainly come up with such a simple scheme, given enough time.

Best to stay inside, then, but she would go mad if she sat in bed and stared at a wall the whole day. 

With a forlorn sigh, she crept over to one corner of her room, where there stood a small, squat minifridge, carefully concealed under a lilac blanket so as not to infuriate her with its scandalously lackluster boxiness. 

Reaching inside, she took out a carton of strawberries and popped one into her mouth, wrapping her lips around it and relishing the sweetness. While her hands lazily fed herself, her eyes drifted over the other contents of her room, searching for something to distract herself.

Eventually, her eyes settled on a picture on her wall. She walked over to take a closer look.

It was a picture of her. Not as she was, but as she had been, once in the distant past. She saw herself in all her former glory, gamboling through the ocean with a song on her lips and a pod of dolphins in her wake. The picture took her back to times long past before she even knew that ponies walked on land and the ocean was the only world she knew. There had been a time when she spent her days swimming through the waves, singing her heart out and reveling in the attention it brought. She could sing for hours, watching with delight as all manner of sea creatures flocked to her side. Dolphins had always been her favorite, so sleek and beautiful and playful. She would frolic with them all day long, leaping through the waves in energetic races and then diving and twirling beneath the surface in elegant dances. The memory brought a smile to her face, whisking her back to simpler times.

She remembered that picture. Sonata had made it for her. 

How long ago was that? Weeks? Months?

There hadn't been a reason for it. Sonata rarely had a reason. It wasn't a gift she gave because she felt like she needed to repay Adagio for some earlier kindness. No, she had given that gift because she thought Adagio would like it, and that was the only motivation she had needed. How many hours had she spent slaving away on the painting just for a minute or two of gratification when she finally gifted it?

Setting the strawberries down on her desk, her hand idly reached up to her hair, feeling for the spiked hairband she wore so often. She tugged it off, letting her hair tumble down her back unbound while she held the band in her hands, careful not to scratch herself on the entirely authentic spikes. It was such a simple thing, much like the picture, but then Aria had always been fond of the simpler things. She smiled faintly, recalling the circumstances in which she had acquired it. There hadn't been any warning, just an unmarked package showing up outside her door. Aria had been so reluctant to talk about it that she didn't reveal that she had made it until a month later. Pity, really. Aria could be so sweet when she stopped projecting that rough persona she liked to cultivate.

Smiling fondly, Adagio went over to her desk, opened a drawer and took out a book. A plain, unadorned black book, beaten and battered from many years of use. There were many books in her room, but this one was one that she had penned herself. A diary of sorts. There had been days when she poured over it for hours on end, recording new memories whenever she formed them. That book was the latest of several volumes recounting her long life in as much entirety as she could manage.

I think it's time to relive some old memories.

Adagio put her hairband back on and sat back down on her bed, resting her back on the wall and tucking her legs to the side while she carefully handled the book and flipped through the pages.

The contents should have been familiar, penned by her own hand in meticulous detail and impeccable neatness, but many of the words felt distant, harkening back to once vibrant memories faded and muted by the passage of time. She could never have recounted all of the things that those words spoke of, but she found herself re-experiencing the past with every page.

She remembered curling up under a blanket with her sisters and a warm mug of hot chocolate on a frigid winter night. They passed the time and the cold by telling 'scary' stories and then laughing about how silly they sounded. She remembered roaming the world, anonymously starring in operas and plays and stunning the crowds with unrivaled performances. She remembered trips to the beach, where they had played in the sand, swam in the ocean and started fights with alluring smiles and tempting melodies. Pity the people here are so prudish. No idea how to properly enjoy the water. There was probably an album lying around somewhere with all the pictures that they had taken of themselves. 

Their past was full of such frivolous moments, anything to pass the boredom that inevitably came with immortality, but none of them recent. She couldn't easily recall the last time they had gone to the beach together, or gathered around the dinner table at night to play those inane board games Sonata enjoyed, or all huddled together on the couch and watched television together. Some days, it felt like they barely knew each other. The most they did was go out to feed, but those outings invariably devolved into bickering and exchanges of barbs and lamentations.

When did we get so distant?

The satisfactory nostalgia that she felt slowly faded, a torturous yearning springing up in its place. She longed for the times before they had seen that rainbow when the entire world had been their playground, every inhabitant a pawn to be toyed with at their leisure. 

Would we still be like that, I wonder? If I hadn't seen that magic, would they have gone after it on their own? She scoffed. Of course not. One look at that power and they'd have run off with their tails tucked between their legs.

Maybe they would be better off without me.

She hated herself for thinking it, but in the moment it felt like the only rational thought. After all, she had already failed them twice, each time more disastrous than the last. What new tragedy would befall them if they continued to look to her for guidance and leadership? 

Aria could be cunning when she put her mind to it. Even Sonata had her moments of clarity. It might be rough for them at first, but she was certain that they'd adapt in time.

Rising from her chair, she closed the book and set it down, throwing the tantalizing thoughts it contained to the side where they could do no harm.

Her eyes went first to her door and then to her window. She made her way across her room and swept the curtains aside, casting her gaze out to the dreary sky above.

Tonight, she thought. I won't make them suffer my weakness any longer. They can step out of my shadow, as they should have done years ago.





A little bell jingled as Aria pushed the door open. She hated that bell.

The interior of the ice cream shop was even more sickening with all its bright, cheery pastel colors. Furthermore, it smelled strongly of sweet things, which made Aria grimace.

Even worse, there were other people in the shop. Considering it wasn't exactly warm outside, there were far more customers than she had been hoping for. From the way a few of them looked up and frowned as the room filled with a faint aroma of fear and suspicion, it was obvious that some of them recognized her. Students, perhaps, or acquaintances who recognized her from second-hand descriptions. One of the dangers of frequenting the neighborhood around the school. She thought she saw one or two customers slowly reaching for their phones, looking at her like she was some kind of criminal. 

A sly, mocking smirk spread across her face as she noted that not a single one had a clue how much danger they would be in if she were in a worse mood.

Behind the counter, a young-ish girl with soft white hair smiled sweetly at first, only faltering when she saw how Aria and the other customers interacted. "Hi," she said, half-heartedly enthusiastic. "Can I get you something?"

Aria swept one cold, leering glare around the room before sauntering up to the counter and curtly stating her request. A minute or two later, she dug out a wad of bills and change, flung it at the girl, accepted two sundaes and carried them outside, where Sonata sat at a rickety table casting a vacant stare out towards the overcast town. When Aria sat down next to her, she jumped a little, looked at her and frowned.

“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore,” she mumbled.

“Just eat it,” Aria said, pressing a spoon into Sonata’s hand and sliding her one of the bowls. “Already paid for it anyway.”

“Can we go home now?”

Aria sighed and rolled her eyes. For all she disliked chipper Sonata, moody Sonata might have been even worse. “Just… eat the damn ice cream, would you? I didn’t drag you all the way out here just so you could have a change of scenery while you sulk.”

Sonata glared at her. Or tried to, at least. No matter how much anger she tried to project, her wide, innocent eyes and childlike features always made her look more petulant than anything else. Without saying a word or looking away from Aria, Sonata took a spoon, jabbed it into her ice cream, and shoved it into her mouth. Her expression showed a fierce determination to get absolutely no satisfaction from it whatsoever.

She paused, swirling her tongue around in her mouth.

Her next mouthful came more quickly than the first, and the third more quickly than the second. 

Aria smirked at the sight, going to work on her sundae at a markedly slower pace. “Feeling better?” she asked between spoonfuls.

Sonata nodded, pausing to smile at Aria. “A little,” she said just before her expression fell, “but I still wish she’d talk to us. I hope she’s alright in there.”

“She just needs some time to herself. It's not like this is the first time she's done something like this.” Aria licked her lips and grimaced at the sweet taste. "Remember two centuries ago when that famous musician guy she had a crush on went deaf before she got around to going overseas to meet him and jump his bones? Locked herself in her room for a week. And then she did the same thing a few decades later when the girl who wrote that prejudice book or whatever died."

“I guess, but two weeks is a long time, don't you think? That's, like... five fortnights or something, right?” Sonata finished her sundae and sighed, resting her head on her hands and looking out into the street with a glumly thoughtful expression. “Aria?”

Aria quickly swallowed a mouthful of ice cream. “What?”

"Why do you think she won't talk to us? Do you think she's mad?"

"She's always mad. Some days she just hides it better." Aria set her bowl down, forgetting it for a moment. Not that she had ever liked it to begin with. Far too sweet for her tastes. "Don't worry about her so much."

Sonata quirked her lips. She spent several seconds in thought and then spoke in a timid voice. "Are you mad at me?"

"No more than usual. Should I be?"

"Well..." Sonata trailed off into another morose sigh before gesturing vaguely with her hands. "I don't know. Just forget it."

Aria glared sternly at Sonata. "What are you thinking, Sonata?"

Sonata looked at her only briefly, fidgeting anxiously and then turning her somber eyes to the ground. She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable confiding to Aria. Hardly surprising. They both tended to go to Adagio for things like that, not each other. Finally, Sonata whispered a question: "Did we lose because of me?"

Ah. So that's what this is all about. Aria thought in silence for a moment, eyes never leaving Sonata's. "Does it matter? What happened happened. We're where we are, no matter who's responsible."

"I'm not sure Adagio thinks the same way." Sonata sniffled and rubbed her eye. “But thanks for not being mad at me, Aria. I… know I can be hard to deal with sometimes. I just... I wish that there was something that I could do, but I just don't know- I don't know-” Sonata cut herself off with another sigh, giving Aria an apologetic smile. "Thanks," she repeated, softly. "Thanks for putting up with me."

Aria nodded. “Yeah, you can be a real idiot when you put your mind to it.” She reached down and held Sonata’s hand. “But you’re still my sister, even if you’re the worst one ever. I’m not gonna leave you, and I know that Adagio won’t either.” 

Sonata's smile widened. She pushed her bowl aside and practically leapt across the table to throw her arms around Aria's chest. Aria recoiled at the unexpected gesture, but failed to pull away in time. She grumbled when Sonata curled up in her lap and thought about pushing her off, but decided against it. If Sonata was in one of her cuddly moods and it made her feel better, there was little harm in indulging her for a minute or two.  

Of course, that didn't mean she had to like it. “Don’t tell Adagio I did this. It’ll ruin my image.”

Sonata giggled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Aria raised her eyebrow, drawing another giggle from Sonata. “You ready to head back?”

“Nope!” Sonata rested her head on Aria’s chest, closed her eyes and sighed again, thoroughly enjoying the moment while it lasted.

Though hesitant at first, Aria eventually relented, though she did note that at least a few people inside the store were staring at them through the window with mixed expressions of confusion and dread. Just a few weeks ago, she would have dismissed them as insignificant, but the faces that clearly recognized her suddenly felt unnerving. "Sonata?" She tapped Sonata on the shoulder. "We should go." Just to keep a low profile, she added in her head.

"Fine," Sonata muttered, pouting but obediently pulling back and standing up, waiting for Aria to stand before setting off down the sidewalk towards their home.





The moment Sonata stepped back through the front door, she dashed up the stairs to Adagio's door. Her shoulders slumped when she saw that it remained closed, her eyes lowering as she turned and went back downstairs, where she saw Aria in the kitchen rummaging through the refrigerator searching for whatever kinds of Aria food they had lying around. Rats, hagfish, yucky bugs, that sort of thing.

Or beer, as it turned out. 

Sonata frowned, leaning forward and looking a little more closely. Is that a... bandage? On her arm?

Sure enough, whilst Aria was fussing with a bottle opener, Sonata noted a patch of rough, dark cloth crudely taped to her left bicep. She must have been too distracted to notice it earlier. At first, she thought about asking about it, but decided not to bother. Not like Aria would tell her anyway.

And besides, there were other things she wanted to say.

Sonata paused for a moment, staring blankly at Aria's back until she finally mustered the resolve to voice her opinion. “Aria?”

Aria flicked the cap off her bottle and glanced over her shoulder at Sonata. “What now?” 

Sonata twirled her hair around her finger, already dreading Aria's response. “I was thinking… Adagio won’t talk to us. Do you think that maybe… she’d like having someone else to talk to?”

“Right. Someone she hates less than us." Aria took a swig, swung the refrigerator closed and then leaned against it as she faced in Sonata's general-ish direction. "That’s not hard to find at all. I keep telling you, she’ll be fine. You know she likes some time to herself once in awhile.” Aria grumbled and then raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Who were you thinking of, anyway?”

“Do you remember that one girl Adagio had us do all that research on?”

“Yes,” Aria said, curtly.

“Do you remember where her house is?”

Aria whipped her head to face Sonata head on and spat, “Why the hell would you want to know?”

Sonata looked at Aria reproachfully and swatted her on the arm. “Aria! Language!”

Aria flicked Sonata’s hair, making her flinch. “Screw you. Why you do want to know?”

“Well…” Sonata fussed with her hair for a moment, “... she seemed nice, and Adagio… she’s been crying in there, Aria. I’m worried about her, but I don’t think she’ll let us help her.” 

“When you say it that way, it doesn’t sound dumb at all.”

Sonata tilted her head. “Really?”

“No. When has Adagio ever needed somebody's help?" Aria lifted her free hand to her neck, clenching it into a fist. "And even if she did, that girl broke our gems, Sonata. Might’ve taken our magic away, in case that pint-sized brain of yours forgot somehow. You are not going to talk to her.”

“Why not?” Sonata protested. “I don’t think she’ll try to hurt us again, Aria.”

“Good. The first time was plenty.” Aria took another drink, then folded her arms and leered down at Sonata. “She is not your friend, and you are not going to talk to her.”

At first, Sonata wilted under Aria’s aggression, but then a realization struck her and she put her hands on her hips, mimicking the dominant pose she had seen Adagio take so many times. “Says who? You’re not the boss of me.”

“Sonata-”

“No! I can make my own decisions, Aria.”

“Bad ones, maybe. Come on, even you should know this is a stupid idea.” Aria drained her bottle and chucked it into a trashcan. “You’re just doing this ‘cause I told you not to, aren’t you?”

“Better than anything that you’ve come up with,” Sonata retorted with a scoff. “What, going out and doing something is stupid but sitting around all grumpy and stuff isn’t? Maybe it won’t work, but at least I’m trying!”

Aria’s eyes narrowed and her teeth clenched. “I haven’t been sitting around, Sonata,” she hissed.

“Then why haven’t you tried talking to her? It’s been two whole weeks and you haven’t tried once. Dagi's crying, Aria. She’s alone and she’s crying, and I think she really needs someone to talk to. If it’s not gonna be one of us, then it better be somebody else.”

Aria muttered profanities under her breath. “Fine. You want to waste your time with Sunpet Thimble or whatever the fuck her name is? Go ahead. Be my guest.” She looked down at Sonata, boring into her with piercing violet eyes and leveling a slender finger to prod her in the chest. “If you cry again when this doesn’t work, don’t even think about coming to me.”

Sonata gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Where does she live, Aria?”

Aria scowled, fumbling through her pockets briefly and then scrawling an address on a sheet of paper that she crumpled into a ball and lobbed in Sonata's general direction. Sonata leapt to the side to catch it, snatching it out of the air and unfolding it.

“There you go,” Aria snarled, swatting at Sonata with one hand and slinking towards the stairs to her room, plucking the stars out of her hair as she went. She paused halfway up, smoothing her hair and then glaring down at Sonata. “If that girl tries anything, then I will make sure that she never walks again. I don’t care how much you like her.”

The two girls exchanged dirty looks before parting, Aria slinking upstairs to her room and Sonata walking out the door and slamming it behind her.
> Clash
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aria flung her door open and stormed inside, snarling and questioning the limits of her ditzy sister’s ignorance.

What the hell is she thinking, relying on her for help? Not like we even need anyone.

Whatever.

There were more important things on her mind than whatever shenanigans Sonata distracted herself with. And with the idiot out of the picture, she didn’t even have to leave her room.

Compared to her sisters, Aria’s room was the very antithesis of neatness. There was a clear path from the door to the mattress she slept on and her cluttered desk, but beyond that there was barely an uncovered surface to be found. Many of the items in her room, such as her desk, her dresser, and a grandfather clock ticking and tocking in the corner had a distinctly old-fashioned aesthetic, starkly clashing with the smooth, shiny television on a box by her mattress.

The desk, however, was what held her attention that afternoon. She walked over, pulled out her chair and sat down.

On the desk, carefully picked out from amongst the clutter, laid several items: A blank sheet of paper, a fancy-ish slightly shiny mechanical pencil, a leather sheath with an embossed symbol showing her name and a star, and lastly a small violet velvet pouch closed with a simple drawstring. An antique wooden abacus stood above them all in the back, tilted to lean against the wall.

There was also a small purple cooler filled to the brim with ice and ridiculously caffeinated energy drinks, but she had already had three that morning, and that was enough for a few hours at least.

Aria scratched her nose and then set the paper in front of her. Then, she reached up to her left arm and tore the bandage off, discarding it by flinging it to the side. She grasped her left bicep, rubbing and scratching and kneading the flesh of her arm until she satisfied herself that it was whole and unblemished. Then, she stretched her arm out and tensed, taking a moment to admire her sleek musculature. It still stung, but the pain had almost completely subsided.

Smirking a little, she did a quick calculation in her head, grabbed the paper and jotted a few notes down.

Seventeen hours ago. Now there’s not even a scar. 

She wrapped her fingers around the sheath and drew a long knife, the sort of thing one usually reserved for dealing with those they found extremely distasteful. Fittingly, the smoothly polished blade had a splotch of dried crimson at the tip that made her crinkle her nose in disgust. It was smaller than she had expected, but knowing from whom it had been drawn still sickened her.

Flipping the knife over, she flicked her wrist and expertly threw it into the opposite wall, where it impacted with an immensely satisfying thunk and left yet another gouge in her wall. Adagio would probably blow a fuse if she saw the state of that poor, abused wall, but she wasn’t there, so tough. She’d have to find something else to freak out over. Aria ignored the knife, resolving to go back and clean it later.

One of her hands reached up to rub her aching throat. She coughed and hacked momentarily, clearing her throat and regretting having shouted at Sonata for the first time in recent memory.

When she recovered, she went to the pouch, which she opened and emptied onto her desk. A pile of crimson gem shards came tumbling out, scattering across the wood. She picked one of them up and held it before her scrutinizing eye. As she had expected, the gem remained faded, deprived of luster and glamour.

She stared deep into the ruby, imagining she was reaching out to it with her magic. She looked at it, but not with her eyes, searching long and hard for even a faint sign of the connection she used to have to it.

Nothing happened. Of course nothing happened.

Aria scowled, setting the gem back down after a few minutes devoid of occurrences.

She swept the shards back into the pouch so that they wouldn’t scatter when she slammed her fist down on the table, letting out a guttural growl that aggravated her throat further.

She snatched up the pencil again and scribbled the same three words she had written every day of the last two weeks: I don’t know.

Oh, how she hated those words. She loathed them, despised them because they were just so insultingly true. Her question was a simple one that desperately needed to be answered, and yet she didn’t know. Thoughts of how she would have to find out came to mind, but they were unanimously risky, painful or extremely time-consuming. The safe way took too long, while the fast way would be disastrous if her guess was wrong.

So what if she still healed quickly? At their prime in Equestria, a cut would have mended in seconds. Her observation did very little to confirm her theory.

It was just a cut, after all. For all she knew, she’d still keel over like a sack of potatoes if some dumbass with a car ran her over.

But they had been alive for a long time. Far longer than any human. Something had to have kept them going. Magic, obviously.

So if we’re still alive…

She picked up a splinter of her gem again, holding it up to her scrutinizing eye.

Do something. Tell me you still work.

The gem had no eyes, and yet it stared back at her. It had no mouth, yet it mocked her.

Aria held her gaze, silently willing it to do something. Eventually, she scowled, clenching her hand into a fist.

I wonder if this is what she's thinking about.

Aria turned her spiteful eyes to the doorway, glowering into the hallway. Adagio’s door was right across from her, as stalwart as ever.

Whatever you’re doing in there, it better be worth it. Aria ran a hand through her hair, looked down at her haggard fingernails, and snarled again. Setting the gem back down, she got up just long enough to slam her door shut and then went back to her stool and sat down heavily, seething momentarily.

Then, she picked up her abacus and stood up. Moving over to her mattress, she flopped down, propped up her pillow against the wall, and cradled the abacus against her chest. With one hand, she idly shuffled the beads around, flicking and throwing them up and down the wires. She breathed deeply, letting the clacking sound soothe her as it always did.

About a minute later, her anger slowly relented, allowing her to see the world more clearly.

Sonata was still useless, of course. Two whole weeks, and what had she done? Knocked on a door and cried. Pathetic. In hindsight, Aria should have known that Sonata would flounder the moment her sisters were out of the picture. Sonata was a follower, not a leader. Maybe she should have kept a closer eye on her.

Who can blame her, though? Even I can’t stay mad at that face for too long. Aria thought of Sonata, of that stupid grin she wore so often when she had no idea what was going on. She thought of how many times she had laughed at Sonata for doing something dumb.

And then she thought about how she had taken Sonata out for ice cream and given her a hug. How many people did she do that for?

Try as she might to stay angry, she felt the corners of her mouth turning upwards just a little bit.

You do your part, Sonata. It’s a dumb part, but you do it. She looked back to Adagio’s door. And she does hers, I hope. What does that leave but for me to do mine?

Adagio thought of a plan. Sonata kept them in good spirits.

Aria got the pleasure of handling the things they wouldn’t touch. “They’d better appreciate this,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her arm again. “I don’t see either of them cutting themselves.”





The sky above was dreary and bleak, covered in grey clouds that seemed to mirror Sonata’s mood. For the moment it remained dry, though Sonata couldn’t help but think that rain was on its way. She walked quickly down the sidewalk, frequently glancing down at the directions Aria had given her. They had directed her to a fairly nice neighborhood, albeit one far removed from the swankified mansions and villas and such Sonata had stayed in before.

Dumb dumbfaced dummy Aria. Stupid grumpy little… stupid person.

In her head, she could already see it clearly: She would go track down what’s-her-face, use her to get Adagio to come out, and then they would all hug and cuddle and Adagio would tell them what to do and then everything would be alright. And then she’d get to laugh in Aria’s face, because ha-ha, her plan worked!

But… what if Su… sun… sha…

What if bacon girl doesn’t want to help? What if Dagi doesn’t want to talk to her?

Now that she thought about it, her ‘plan’ wasn’t really much of a plan. More of an idea, really. Maybe Aria was right. Maybe it was a stupid idea.

No. Aria is dumb. And mean. 

And I just took a wrong turn.

Sighing heavily, Sonata turned around, trudged back down the sidewalk and went in the right direction.

You can do this. She’s nice, right? She’ll like you. You can make her like you.

She breathed deeply, mustering her resolve and reminding herself what the stakes were.

This is for you, Dagi.

One last corner she rounded, and finally she saw the address she was looking for just a little ways ahead. It belonged to a small but cozy-looking house, tastefully painted an inoffensive off-white. Sonata’s eyes lit up with excitement. She let out a little squeal, jumping in place and clapping her hands before skipping down the road.

Wait. No.

Skipping, beaming, cheering… it was all too chipper. She was glad to have found the house, alright, but she didn’t want to be chipper.

Maybe a more somber approach was in order. She put her head down and walked slowly, quickly looking around to see if there was some water she could wet her face with.

No, that was too much. She was asking for help, not going to a funeral.

She could go for the cuteness approach, maybe. Pretend that she had never really been evil and had just been following along because her sisters wouldn’t let her leave. But that wouldn’t make much sense if she wanted Sunset to come back with her, would it?

And besides, bacon girl was likely to be a bit dubious anyway, which had been known to reduce the success rate of the cuteness method by as much as... twelve percent, if she had to guess. That sounded vaguely plausible.

So what did she want to do, then?

Simple. She wanted to be look sympathetic. Not cute, per se, but pitiable. Desperate. Reluctant. That sort of thing. She slumped her shoulders and held her hands in front of her chest and fidgeted with her fingers.

Just then, she glanced down at her hands and winced when she realized that she was wearing the glittery nail polish that sparkled when the sunlight caught it the right way. The pink miniskirt and stylish jacket probably wouldn’t help much either.

Although they were cute. That would count for something, right?

As she began her hesitant approach, she chattered to herself, practicing what she hoped was an authentic-sounding nervous stammer.

Her demeanour was timid. Her gait was reluctant. Her expression was downcast. She thought of sad things that made her sniffle a little but not weep. With one of her hands, she reached back, tugged off her scrunchy and mussed up her hair a little.

Maximum sympathy.

Finally, she went up to the door, lifted her hand and knocked.

And then she waited, feeling a peculiar sense of déjà vu as one often did when doing things similar to things they had done before.

A minute later, she heard a voice on the other side and a clicking lock, and then the door swung open to reveal a first cheerful and then very startled Sunset Shimmer. With a snazzy new outfit, to boot.

“Sonata?” Sunset lurched back, moving to slam the door until she saw the forlorn look on Sonata’s face and frowned in concern. “What are you doing here?”

“C- can I ask you something?” Sonata shrank back, holding her hands close to her chest and making her eyes wide. “I…” She trailed off, hanging her head and edging back slightly, like she was ready to bolt. “I need your help.”

A distinct look of suspicion came over Sunset, but then she adopted a smile, albeit a faint and slightly forced one. She relaxed, probably trying to make Sonata more comfortable. “I guess so,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“It’s…” Sonata lowered her voice to a meek whisper. “It’s about Adagio.”

The concern on Sunset’s face turned to worry, just as Sonata hoped. “Why don’t you come in?” Sunset stepped aside and beckoned Sonata through the door. “I was just making myself some tea if you want some.”

Sonata looked up at Sunset and ever so slowly spread her lips into a smile. “Thanks,” she said, stepping through the door.

In keeping with the outside appearance, Sunset’s house, while being quite a bit larger than one person living by themselves really needed, managed to feel cozy and inviting. Spacious, but hardly desolate. The walls themselves were boring shades of whites and browns punctuated by occasional splashes of reds and oranges, whether in the form of pictures of spectacular sunrises hanging from the walls or colorful pillows resting on a couch.

Once they were both inside, Sunset directed Sonata to a pair of couches by a coffee table and then went off into her kitchen, returning a minute later with two cups of warm tea.

“Alright,” she said, sitting down across from Sonata and passing her one cup, “why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Sonata reached out for the cup, snatching it up and carefully sipping from it. Inwardly, she blanched at the bitter taste, but in the interest of cordiality kept her disgust from showing. It was probably one of those weird fancy kinds of tea that snobbish people like Adagio liked. She set the cup down by the edge, braced to ‘accidentally’ tip it over when Sunset wasn’t paying attention.

“Okay,” she began, addressing Sunset with a polite but subtly wary tone. “How long has it been? Two days, maybe three?”

Sunset frowned. “It’s… been two weeks, Sonata. Since we last met, I mean.”

“Oh.” Sonata chuckled nervously. “I knew that.”

“Right.” Sunset cleared her throat and took a sip of tea. “So… how have you been?”

“Well…” Sonata lifted one hand to her hair and twirled it around her finger. “I’ve been alright, but my sisters, they… they haven’t taken it so well.”

Sunset’s expression became heavy with concern. “They didn’t… hurt you, did they?”

“No!” Sonata covered her mouth when she realized how sharply she had spoken. She continued, voice lowering to a whisper. “They wouldn’t do that. Not seriously, I mean. But… they haven’t really talked about it much, but I think Adagio might be pretty mad at me. I think. I don’t really know. Well, I mean, I know, but I don’t really know, y’know?”

There was a pause while Sunset gave Sonata a vacant, slowly blinking stare.

“I’m sorry,” Sunset said, sighing and rubbing her temple. “Could you maybe explain things a little more slowly?”

“Okaaay…” Sonata stared off into space for a moment until her thoughts gathered and then she looked back at Sunset. “Adagio kinda… sorta… well, I haven’t really spoken to her. Since that night. Like, at all.”

“Did she leave you?”

“Oh, no no no! I hope not, anyway. No, she just locked herself in her room and won’t come out.” Sonata held her hands in front of her chest and fiddled nervously, eyes flitting back and forth. “And I think she’s lonely. I think she could really use someone to talk to, but she won't let either of us in, so I was thinking someone else might have more luck.”

“Okay.” Sunset sat back and sighed before reaching into her pocket. “Let me call my friends. I’d like to-”

Sonata leapt forward and caught Sunset by the wrist. “Please don’t,” she pleaded.

Sunset looked down at Sonata’s hand. “You don’t think Adagio wants to see them?” When Sonata shook her head, Sunset sighed. “Then why would she want to see me?”

“Because you’re a pony, aren’t you? They’re not.”

At that, Sunset went quiet, lost in thought. She furrowed her brow, looking back down to her hand that still held her cell phone. Finally, she gave a slow but definite nod. “Okay,” she said. “You know her better than I do, so I’ll trust your judgment on this.”

Sonata’s eyes lit up with excitement, a broad, cheerful smile creeping across her face as she vaulted over the table and threw her arms around Sunset’s neck, squealing with excitement and purely coincidentally knocking that yucky teacup off the table.





A short time later, Sonata skipped alongside Sunset, well on the way back to her home.

“Oh, they’re not so bad once you get to know them!” Sonata smiled, giggling cheerfully. “One time I thought I was a vampire and they were super helpful! Dagi made my whole costume from scratch and gave me like, twenty books to ignore and Aria even taught me how to pick locks so  I could break into people’s houses at night and bite them!”

“You… thought you were a vampire?”

Sonata nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Since it was, her action was totally justified. “Yup!” she chirped. “I mean, I feed on people, right? That’s kinda like a vampire. Plus, I can’t stand garlic and I’m pretty sure I’d be pretty upset if someone stuck a stake in my heart!”

Sunset gave Sonata a distinctly Dagi-esque look of politely feigned interest. Her face tried to say yes whilst the inner workings of her mind shrieked a resounding ‘no.’ Or something like that. It was hard to be certain, what with Sonata suddenly lacking in psychic powers.

And so Sonata babbled on as she opened the door and stepped inside, leading Sunset into the living room. Sunset’s eyes went wide as she went in, no doubt admiring the extravagance contained inside the house’s purposefully unassuming exterior. Whether it be a handrail shaped like cresting waves or lamps that looked like pillars of kelp wrapped around gleaming pearls, many furnishing carried some form of oceanic theme, mixed in with lavish decorations and intricate craftsmanship.

Sonata, prattled on, oblivious to Sunset’s awe. “Ooh, and then just a little while ago, Aria taught me how to backflip! How cool is that?”

“And five years later, you still can’t flash kick. I’m so proud.”

Sonata froze in place, paling at the sound of Aria’s voice. She caught a glimpse of Aria popping open another bottle of beer in the kitchen and immediately turned to a very concerned Sunset. “Quick, hide!” she whispered, gesturing frantically. “Before she-”

“Well I’ll be damned. You actually did it.”

Sonata and Sunset both looked to the kitchen, where Aria stood with one hand on her hip, a bottle of beer in the other, and a severe stare carved onto her face.

After a moment of tense silence while Sunset looked to Sonata for an explanation, Aria stepped forward and leveled a finger at Sunset. “I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking, dragging her into this.”

Sunset stepped forward, getting between Aria and Sonata. “Aria, just calm-”

Aria’s eyes narrowed to a piercing glare, promptly shutting Sunset down. “Move,” Aria hissed. “I’m talking to my sister.”

Sonata inched back, wilting under Aria’s hostile gaze.

Sunset, meanwhile, collected herself. “I’m not here to hurt you, Aria. Sonata wanted me to talk to Adagio.”

“Did she, now?” Aria took a swig from her bottle, pausing to wipe her lips before turning her gaze to Sonata. “And how’d you persuade her, Sonata? Didja do that one thing where you pretend we kicked you out and you need a place to stay?”

“N- no!” Sonata squeaked in protest. “I didn’t lie to her.”

Aria cackled to herself. “Sure you didn’t, but that doesn’t mean you were honest.” Her free hand lashed out, seizing Sunset by the collar and jerking her forward. Ignoring Sonata’s protesting, panicked look, Aria let out a low, guttural snarl that left a pungent odor of alcohol in Sunset’s nostrils. “Whatever goes on between you and her? None of my damn business. Talk, drink, fuck, whatever. But…” She jabbed a finger straight into Sunset’s chest, nudging her back. “If you go up there and you hurt her… you’re not making it home tonight.”

With one last shove, Aria pulled back and slunk up the stairs towards her room, only pausing to cast a baleful glare down at Sunset before vanishing.

A few seconds of utter silence passed, neither Sunset nor Sonata making a sound until they heard a slamming door from above.

Sonata rushed over to Sunset. “I’m sorry!” she blurted. “I didn’t- I thought she’d be-”

“It’s alright,” Sunset said, though her trembling hand did little to help her image. “It’s no worse than what some of the students have said behind my back, believe me.” She took a slow, deep breath and then looked at Sonata, forcing a smile. “I don’t suppose Adagio’s gonna react the same way?”

“... Maybe,” Sonata murmured, hanging her head. “I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you-”

“Don’t worry about it. She’s mad at me. I get that. Although… do you think you could wait outside when I talk to her?” Sunset chuckled, but failed to completely mask her unease. “After all that, I’m a little apprehensive about being in a room alone with her.”

“She’ll be fine,” Sonata stated. “She doesn’t hurt people. Well… not like that, anyway. I mean, she might be mean and stuff, but she’s not gonna, like, break your face. That’s more Aria’s sort of thing.”

“Okay.” Sunset smiled again and looked towards the stairs, only to pause, frown and turn back to Sonata. “Do you feel the same way?” she asked.

“Huh? W- what do you mean?”

“Are you mad at me too?”

“I… well-” Sonata babbled, fumbling for words.

“Because it’s alright if you are. I can understand.” Sunset stepped closer, reaching down to hold Sonata’s hand and offer a reassuring squeeze. “And if you are, then I’m glad that you were still willing to ask me for help. You really do care about her, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Sonata mumbled, looking at the ground and blushing. “And…” she winced, but forced the words out all the same. “I liked singing. Like, more than anything. And… you’re just… you’re so nice, y’know? I kinda wanna be your friend, but… I don’t think I can.”

“Sonata? Are you…”

“I’m fine,” Sonata lied, looking up and forcing herself to smile. “Go talk to Dagi. I’ll be outside if anything goes wrong.”

“Okay. Um… where’s her room?”

Oh. Right. Sonata bolted up the stairs, dragging Sunset behind her and then indicating a direction. “That way,” she said. “It’s the one at the end. Can’t miss it.”

Sunset mumbled something that Sonata didn’t care to listen to and then set off down the hall. Sonata watched for a moment and then darted back towards her room, smiling in satisfaction.

Brought you a present, Dagi. Hope you like it.





Adagio sat on the floor of her spacious, lavishly decorated bedroom, an open suitcase lying on the floor beside her whilst her eyes combed her bookshelves. She had already picked out her absolute favorites, spanning a range from timeless classics to rising stars and hidden gems that had gone with too little recognition.

Picking which things to bring with her when she took her leave that night had proven to be quite the production. It had taken her almost an hour of deliberation just to decide which books to bring, and that was just picking out her favorites. With a veritable wall of books to choose from, she had refused to take the chance of forgetting one.

Unfortunately, the suitcase she reserved for books and other mementos had filled up far too quickly. Whether it be manuscripts hand-written by her favorite authors, jewelry gifted by particularly enticing suitors, or even more esoteric trinkets, the number of items that could induce a feeling of nostalgia seemed endless.

And all that was before she dove into her wardrobe, as it would be simply unacceptable to live her new life with only the sheer nightgown she currently wore, alluring though it may have been.

And then there were the cosmetics, of course. Depending on what kind of funds she would end up bringing with her, a dozen bottles of shampoo might not last long enough before she had to restock.

Such a bother, the whole packing thing, but it had to be done.

She groaned, pressing her palm into her forehead and wishing she could just get the hard parts over with.

If I still had my song, this would be so much easier. I wouldn’t even have to lift a finger, just sit back and pamper myself while some nameless peons took care of it all.

But no, here I am. Forced to pack my own bags. Oh, the tragedy.

A knock on her door jolted her from her thoughts. Too light to be Aria, but heavier and slower than Sonata’s. Someone else, or perhaps another clever ploy to draw her out.

But then she heard a voice she had hoped she would one day forget.

“Adagio?"

She tensed, features hardening. She went still as a statue, hoping that perhaps the nuisance would go away in time if she ignored it.

Naturally, she had no such luck.

"Are you in there? I just want to talk."

Sunset had hunted her down. Perhaps the rest of those thrice-damned girls were lurking outside, poised and ready to strike the moment things went wrong. And why shouldn't they? They feared her, as they should have. A low growl escaped her lips, her hands clenching into fists as she glared at the door.

If she's hurt them...

When she was prepared, she walked over to the door and threw it open. The second the door opened, her other hand lashed out, seizing Sunset by the collar. “You want to talk?” Adagio’s eyes narrowed and her voice lowered to a growl. “Let’s talk.” She jerked her arm back, hoisting Sunset forward and all but flinging her into the room. Adagio slammed the door shut and whirled around to face Sunset, scowling impatiently.

Sunset stumbled a bit, dazed by her rough entrance but recovering quickly. She edged back from Adagio, raising her hands defensively. She tried to look confident, but there was a glimmer of fear in her eyes that Adagio relished, along with a momentary head-tilt when she noted Adagio’s flimsy attire.

Adagio put a hand on her hip and stared intently at Sunset, silently daring her to make the first move. In return, Sunset gave Adagio a wary look, no doubt wondering whether or not she should have been afraid.

Nevertheless, after a few moments of deliberation, Sunset finally lowered her hands, though her posture remained tense, as if she was ready to bolt to the door. “Adagio,” she began, speaking calmly but firmly. “I don’t want to fight you. I never did. If there’s a way that we can work things out between us, I’m inclined to find it, but you are seriously not making me less suspicious of you.”

“You say that as though I should care,” Adagio remarked. “Foolish little girl. What do you want from me, then, if not another battle? Come to mock me, perhaps? To gloat over your victory? I know I would.”

“I’m not here to gloat.”

“And yet you do, whether you know it or not.” Adagio slunk over to her nightstand, plucked up her bottle and took a sip. “I’m not sure I want to know, but how did you find me?”

“I checked the address you gave Principal Celestia," Sunset replied. "All three of them. I'd actually thought about giving up, but then Sonata came and found me, believe it or not. She thought it'd be good if you had someone to talk to.”

“Is that so?” Adagio sipped from her bottle again, savoring the crimson fluid flowing down her throat. “I’ll have to remember that the next time she asks something of me so I can rebuke her with appropriate malice.”

“They said you haven’t come out of this room since that night.”

“And you believe them?” Adagio tittered, sending a disdainful look at Sunset over her shoulder. “I’d go mad if I never left.” She held up the bottle and jostled it. "And this doesn't exactly grow on trees, you know.”

“Then you’ve been very careful.” Sunset looked towards the door. “You’ve avoided them for awhile now. What’s going on?”

Adagio scowled. She drained her bottle and set it down on the table, afraid that her tensed grip might break it. She gave a haughty toss of her hair and glared at Sunset. “Terribly sorry,” she hissed. “I must have missed the part where that’s your problem. What goes on between me and them is no concern of yours, little girl. Leave us in peace, and we will do the same to you.”

Sunset shrank back, eyes slightly wide and visibly unnerved. She took a moment to compose herself. “They want you to come back,” she said. “Sonata thought that you wouldn't want to see her or Aria, so she asked me.” Her faint tremble betrayed her unease, but she hid it with folded arms. “So far, I’m inclined to leave you alone, since you obviously don’t want anything to do with me, but I'd like to help if there's a way I can. I can be here for you, Adagio. You don't have to be alone like this.”

“It’s the strangest thing,” Adagio replied, folding her arms. “I’m trying to remember that time when I asked you for help, but for the life of me I simply can’t recall.”

“Adagio…” Sunset stepped forward, hesitantly reaching out but pausing some distance from Adagio. “If you’re anything like I used to be, I think you’re hurting a lot more than you let on. Sonata sure thinks you are, I think.”

“Right. Because we’re just so similar, aren’t we?” Adagio glared reproachfully at Sunset. “I’d have thought we’d made this clear, little girl. You and I… we are not the same.”

“And if there’s one thing that my friends taught me, it’s that people can change. There was a time when we weren’t so different. I bottled up all my feelings because I was afraid of them. I took out my anger on other people to make them feel as miserable as I did.”

Adagio scoffed, giving a haughty toss of her hair.

Foolish little girl. How could she ever know how I feel? She’s mortal. 

A mortal from Equestria, a voice in the back of her head told her.

I don’t need her help. I never did, and I never will.

Before she even realized it, her mind went back in time, voyaging to peaceful nights. She remembered all the times she had held Sonata and sung her lullabies until she stopped crying and even a few rare occasions where a particularly troubled Aria had needed a little comfort from her.

Already, she felt her scowl being washed away.

I wonder what that must have felt like for them.

She could never dream of reversing their roles. From the moment they came to the human world, they had been alone. Scared. Confused. Desperate. Her sisters needed someone to guide them, someone they could rely on, someone who could soothe their pain when it was too much to bear.

And so Adagio had made herself that person. Who, then, was left for her?

She’s your enemy, she told herself. You can’t let her see you like this.

But then… what would it matter, if she did speak up a little? As far as she was concerned, she’d never see Sunset again after that day. Whatever words she spoke, whatever image she showed, whatever person Sunset saw, would never leave the room.

She turned away, both to hide her cracking composure and to walk over to the farthest side of her bed, facing away from the door. Knowing from experience that it would be difficult for anyone listening at the door to make out what she was saying, she glanced back at Sunset and beckoned her closer.

They sat next to each other on the bed, Adagio averting her eyes towards her window while Sunset patiently waited for her to speak.

It would have been a lengthy wait. For once, Adagio found she hadn’t a clue how to proceed.

Start with something factual. Ease into it.

“Back in Equestria… do you know what I would have done if I had walked into that school as strong as I was back then?” When Sunset shook her head, Adagio held up a single slender finger. “One word. That’s all it would take. One word and they’d all march off of a cliff if I wanted them to. But here?” She gestured out the window. “We were weak. Crippled, from the moment we arrived.” Her eyes lowered, thinking back to bloodstained sands. “They almost didn’t make it. The spell… it was far from gentle. I’m not sure even the one who cast it knew what he was doing, but he had no other choice. We paid the price for his clumsiness.”

Daring to look to the side, she saw a look of disbelief etched onto Sunset’s features. Hardly surprising, that the little girl could scarcely believe such a prominent figure of magic could have made an error.

“But they recovered, with my help.” Adagio took a long pause, a part of her dreading what was to come if she kept speaking. “And that night, on the beach where we arrived, I… I held them. I held them tighter than I ever had before, and I made them a promise. I told them that if there was ever a way for us to be strong again, then I would find it.”

She bit her lip, supposing that her face must have been paling. A look down at her hands confirmed that she was trembling, but she forced herself to continue, if only because it was far too late to turn back.

“But this world had no magic. Not a scrap. We could harvest enough to keep ourselves going, but…” Adagio trailed off, wincing. “When I saw that rainbow in the sky… I had hope. I had hope, for the first time in a thousand years, that I could fulfill my promise.” She lowered her head, voice dropping to a whisper. “And then you took all that away from me.”

A few seconds of silence passed, and then she felt something warm on her shoulder. Two of them, in fact.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned to the side, looking at Sunset.

Neither of them spoke, but there was such a warm look in Sunset’s eyes that Adagio knew, somehow, that she meant no harm. No words were spoken, and yet Sunset somehow radiated comfort, communing with just a, expression that it was alright to be a little vulnerable.

And so, with a little gentle coaxing, Adagio buried her face in Sunset’s shoulder and sobbed. Through the thin fabric of her nightgown, she was acutely aware of the enveloping warmth of Sunset’s embrace, and for a moment or two, she was content to savor it.

What a disgraceful sight she must have been, reduced to helpless weeping.

For a little while, she found that she didn’t care what she looked like or how she acted or how she sounded. For a minute, or perhaps two, she laid still and let Sunset hold her while her tears flowed. After a little while, she even reciprocated, clinging tightly to Sunset and pulling her in closer. Sunset, meanwhile, ran her hand through Adagio's hair, gently stroking and petting it with soothing motions.

Eventually, Adagio's tears slowed and then halted shortly after. Then, as she had done so many times before, she quickly reigned in her feelings and pulled away, having taken as much affection as she needed. She turned away, reaching to her nightstand for a handkerchief and dabbing at her damp cheeks with it.

She paused briefly, eyes falling to the floor and voice falling to a whisper. “Why did you do that?”

“You looked like you needed it.”

“You should hate me,” Adagio murmured.

Again, Sunset went quiet for a moment, but when she spoke, it was in a resolute, if quiet, tone. “I don’t hate you, Adagio. I… don’t like what you did, but that doesn’t mean I have to hate you for it. You can be kind when you want to, can’t you? And then… I figure that if you don’t deserve a second chance, then I didn’t either.”

Adagio, once her eyes and face were dry, carefully folded her handkerchief and set it down on her nightstand. “Sympathy,” she murmured. “Is that what I hear in your voice? You pity me, don’t you?”

“You were crying just a minute ago,” Sunset replied. “How often do you do that? If you’re anything like I used to be, I’ll bet you don’t like letting other people see you like that.”

“I don’t,” Adagio replied. A moment later, her eyes slowly narrowed. "Especially," she continued, "when they're the ones who made me do it."

Behind her, Sunset flinched. “Adagio-”

“You say that you want to help me? Then give me my magic back."

“Adagio, I can’t-”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Adagio slowly turned, locking eyes with Sunset. “You don’t feel a shred of regret for taking it away, do you?”

“I… That’s not true, Adagio. I’m sorry that it had to come to that, but… I’m sorry. I think it was the right thing to do.”

“And why is that? What is so different about us?" Adagio's voice began as a whisper but grew to a snarl as her gaze intensified. "Why is it that I, who saw hope for the first time in a thousand years, was doomed to failure while you, so young and ignorant, were destined to rise so high and shine so brightly? You can’t claim that you worked harder or that you wanted it more because you didn’t!” Sunset edged back, face paling with obvious unease and stammering for a response until Adagio silenced her with a leveled finger. “You, little girl, were stronger than me. That is why you won. Don’t think that you’re better than me or more privileged than me, because you’re not.” Adagio backed off, scowl softening into a disdainful smirk. “Maybe you didn’t intend to hurt me, but you did, and I think you would do it a thousand times over if you had to. You’re not the first, and I don't think you will be the last.”

Sunset stepped away, standing up and backing up towards the door. “Adagio… I know you’ve been hurt. I get that. I can’t claim to agree with what Starswirl-”

Adagio leapt to her feet with a savage snarl, lunging forward and seizing Sunset by the collar. “Do not say that name,” she growled before releasing her grip. “Ever.”

“Okay,” Sunset gasped. “You hate him. I understand.”

“Do you?” Adagio snatched up Sunset’s wrist. “Would you like to hear a story, little girl?” She ran her fingers along the back of Sunset’s hand and continued without waiting for a response. “Once upon a time, in a magical land of silly little ponies, there lived an old stallion with a magic mirror. He coveted the power of this mirror, and sought to channel it with his own horn. And so he did, but this stallion, for all his cleverness, was only a mortal. Flawed. He knew that the mirror transformed a pony into something else, but he didn't know what that something was. Or maybe he knew, and just didn't care. Or maybe it was because it wasn't a pony he cast his spell on. Whatever the reason..." Adagio put her hand on her stomach, pressing Sunset's hand into her belly. "... He didn't get this part quite right."

Sunset frowned, fidgeting awkwardly and shaking her head. “I… I don’t understand.”

Adagio gave Sunset one last spiteful glare. “Of course you don’t,” she spat, releasing her grip and bumping Sunset away with her hip. She turned away and waved her hand dismissively. “Get out. I have nothing more to say. Not to you."

When she did not immediately hear the door creaking open, she clenched her teeth and let out another snarl.

“Adagio…”

“You’re still here. Fix that.”

"Just a minute. That magic we used on you... it came from a set of artifacts called the Elements of Harmony. I don't know much about them, but I truly believe that they are not malicious. They don't mean to hurt you any more than I do. If they broke your gem, then it was to teach you, not to punish you. I think there’s something they want you to see. Something that you need to learn. I thought that they took away my magic too, but then it came back when I stood up for my friends."

"And what, pray tell, did they teach me? That I'm weak? I didn't need their help to see that." Adagio let out another snarl. "And you are trying my patience."

“Alright. I’ll leave you alone if you want me to. But… Sonata misses you, Adagio. And Aria... she doesn't like me, but all she did was tell me not to hurt you. I can’t claim to know how you feel about them, but I think you mean a lot to them. I hope that’s the case, and I hope that you know it if it is. And if it is, then let them help you, because I think you're hurting a lot more than you're willing to show. I know they'll want to. You just have to let them.”

With those last few words, Sunset finally slipped out the door, leaving Adagio alone with the silence she craved.

Stupid. Reckless. Foolish.

Adagio scowled, another growl escaping her lips. She scolded herself, wondering what madness had taken her that made her speak so much. That insolent little girl had no right to pry, no right to question, and certainly no right to invade. And yet still Adagio spoke to her of things that she rarely discussed even with her sisters. What in the world had she been thinking?

Her anger grew with each passing moment, both inwards and outwards. Every time she chided herself for losing her composure, she thought of where all her grief had come from, of who was truly the most culpable.

How dare she? Even after all she did to me, she still has the audacity to march into my home and claim she knows my sisters better than I do.

Moving back to her desk, she sat down, propping her hands up on her elbows and resting her chin on her hands. Her scowl faded, but her eyes still blazed with anger, boring into the wall as a new thought dominated her mind.

I will make her pay.
> Mending
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sonata promptly perked up, looking towards the doorway when she heard a distant creaking sound. She bolted out of her room, already beaming as she ran into the hall.

Once outside, she thought she might have seen a faint glimpse of fluffy blonde hair, but Sunset quickly pulled the door shut, looking at Sonata with a frown that said all that she needed to hear to make her excitement crumble.

“How did it…” Sonata’s eyes fell, her shoulders slumping. “Not well, right?”

“I’m sorry, Sonata. She’s… I don’t know how she feels right now. Maybe she’s just in a bad mood, and maybe she’s mad at me, but… I think you were right. She…”

Sunset kept talking, but her words merely drifted through the air, barely even reaching Sonata’s ears and certainly not taking root in her thoughts.

One thing. You trusted her to do one thing.

She failed. You trusted her and she failed.

A strange feeling took root inside Sonata. She had the vague idea that she was angry, but she couldn’t quite tell who bore the brunt of her feeling: Sunset for her failure to get through to Adagio, herself for thinking that Sunset could have done anything to begin with, Aria for not even trying, or even Adagio for shutting her out in the first place.

“Sonata? Is something wrong?”

Shaking her head reflexively, Sonata’s eyes refocused, falling on a very concerned-looking Sunset. 

“No,” Sonata blurted, hurriedly backpedaling and looking away. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Sunset followed along, frowning. “Because I can understand if you’re-”

“Stop,” Sonata said, pausing and looking back at Sunset. “Just… stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to help!” Sonata spun in place, hands balling into fists. “Just stop it!”

Taken aback by Sonata’s sudden anger, Sunset stumbled back, up against the wall. “I’m sorry, Sonata. I’m sorry that Adagio didn’t listen to me, but-”

“But what?” Sonata huffed, folding her arms and fuming. “One thing, that’s all you had to do. You just had to get her to like you and- b-but no, you couldn’t even do that! You’re a failure!” Sonata trembled, shuddering as her bravado faded as quickly as it had come. She shuffled back towards her door, voice lowering along with her eyes. “J- just like me.”

In her troubled state, Sonata barely heard another door opening behind her. She flinched when she felt a hand gripping her shoulder, all but dragging her towards her room.

From behind Sonata, Aria fixed Sunset with a piercing stare, not speaking a word but driving her back with just a threatening look.

Fidgeting anxiously, Sunset slowly retreated, though the concern in her eyes never wavered. “Is… is she…”

“Shut up,” Aria growled, pulling Sonata back. “This isn’t your problem.”

With that, Aria led Sonata into her room, leaving Sunset alone in the hallway.





Great. Because I just didn’t have enough going on before, did I?

Aria suppressed a scowl, assuming an expression that was at the very least neutral, if less than pleasant. It had taken a little persuading to get Sonata into her bed and tucked in, but at least she had been a clingy, docile kind of upset instead of a violent kind of upset. A little bit of coaxing, and she had been glad to curl up under her comforter with one of those stupid stuffed animals. Probably one of the ones she’d gotten Adagio to sew. Those were her favorites.

Adagio probably would've sung her a lullaby or something, wouldn't she?

But no... she's stuck with me.

Sonata had been reluctant to let her go, but a little bit of assertiveness put her in her place and Aria left quickly, carefully closing the door behind her.

Because, as much as Aria would have liked to go back in her room, flop down on her mattress and sit around until she was bored enough to go down to the nearest bar and get drunk enough to let some sleazy jackass take her home, there was still the nuisance to deal with.

And that, certainly, was one thing she sorely wished she didn’t have to handle.

Briefly, she entertained the notion of simply grabbing that girl by her scrawny neck, chucking her out the door and slamming it in her face.

Right. And then she’d round up her cohorts and rainbow us again. I wonder if it wouldn’t hurt as much, now that we don’t have any gems to break.

The thought occurred to her that perhaps the nuisance had earnestly been trying to help, but she did not dwell on it for long. Whatever the reasoning behind her actions, it seemed that there was nothing that girl did that did not work in some way bring grief to Aria and her sisters.

But even so, Aria thought of other things beyond slamming Sunset’s face into the door. She liked to think of herself as being practical like that.

After all, though it pained her to admit it, that girl had them in a vulnerable position. Even with all the magic the gems soaked up, Sunset won. Handily, even. Once she got going, it wasn’t even a fight. There was no telling what the rainbow would do if it struck them a second time, but if there was one thing that Aria had learned in her long life, it was that stupid risks were exactly that: stupid. Fun from time to time, but ultimately stupid. There was no point in giving Sunset a reason to hit them again.

Thus, her first thoughts as she left Sonata’s room were not of how much fun she would have making Sunset scream, but how important it was to stay on her good side.

But after what I said before… she’ll be suspicious if I’m too nice. She’s naive, but she’s not an idiot.

Aria clenched her teeth, quietly seething. The irony that she was the one who got stuck with handling the delicate situation was not lost on her.

I’ll bet she doesn’t even think Sonata’s evil anymore.

And she’s kinda pretty. I’m surprised Adagio didn’t just drop the pretense and charm her out of her clothes at the door.

To her grudging relief, Aria went downstairs and saw Sunset patiently waiting in the living room. As soon as she saw her, Sunset stood up and looked at Aria, her face heavy with concern.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to-”

“What? You didn’t want to hurt us, right?” Aria leapt the last few stairs, landing lightly on her feet and making her way over to Sunset, purposefully keeping an inscrutable expression. “I guess nobody gets what they want. We sure didn’t. Why should you?”

“Aria…”

Cutting Sunset off with a disdainful scoff, Aria turned and walked away. “I’m done with you. You did your thing, you screwed it up. I’ve got stuff to do, and I don’t need you banging on my door.”

A moment passed, during which Sunset went silent. Aria listened intently, feigning disinterest by keeping her back turned.

“You know something, Aria? I would really, really like to be nice to you. I would. And I am sorry that we had to fight, but I’m not sorry that you lost. What you were doing was wrong and I do not regret stopping you.”

Pausing in place, Aria looked over her shoulder as her lips curled into a leering smirk. “I knew there was a spine somewhere in that sack of meat.” A sardonic chuckle escaped her lips. “What, do you want me to apologize? I don’t apologize. Not to you, not to anyone.”

“What I’m saying,” Sunset stated, her voice calm but stern as she folded her arms defiantly, “is that if you try anything… I will not hesitate to stop you a second time. You’ve had a rough life, and some of it, I can sympathize with. But that doesn’t make what you were doing right.”

“Maybe not for you,” Aria retorted, shrugging and stomping off towards a backdoor to the garage.

Another pause was followed shortly by a heavy sigh from Sunset. “You don’t care, do you? All those people don’t mean a thing to you?”

“What did they ever do for us?” Aria paused at the door, sending a stern glare back towards Sunset. “I don’t care what you think of me. You wanna bow down and worship me, go ahead. You wanna slap me in the face? Do that instead.”

“How can you say that?” Sunset demanded.

"It's not so hard. You should try it sometime." Aria paused, a thought springing up in her mind. “I used to be like you, you know. It feels nice, thinking that some things are right and some things are wrong, doesn't it?” she said, turning to face Sunset head on and leaning back against the door, folding her arms and scowling whilst she picked her next words carefully. 

Soft enough to keep her interest, but harsh enough she doesn’t catch on.

“But life’s too long to waste it with worrying.” Aria pressed a palm into her chest. “Take me, for example. I’ll bet Sonata would say I’m a good person because I give her candy, play games with her when she’s bored and sing with her. But pick any one of those students and they’d say I’m a nasty bitch. So which one of ‘em’s right?”

Sunset frowned, tilting her head slightly. “I guess it’s a matter of perspective,” she said.

Aria laughed, making a dry chuckle. “There, see? You’re not as dumb as I thought.” Her features twisted into a sardonic smirk. “Why should I care if someone else says what I’m doing is wrong? Anyone else could come along and say I’m right. Right, wrong, good, bad... they're just words. They mean whatever you want them to.”

“So what do you do, then? If nobody is right or wrong, then how do you know what to do?”

“Figure it out yourself, of course. Don't let anybody else tell you what's right and wrong. Make your own rules and stick to them.” Aria absent-mindedly reached up to her throat, rubbing the skin where her gem once dangled. “I stood by my sisters, and in my book, that was the right thing to do. So no, I don’t regret a damn thing. If all that went down again, I'd make the same choice in a heartbeat.” Punctuating her words with a derisive snort, Aria turned and flung the garage door open. “Now, I got stuff to do.”

Aria stepped inside. Just as she had hoped, Sunset quickly followed, no doubt intent on making sure Aria wasn't up to anything suspicious.

The garage was large enough to comfortably fit two cars. One side was occupied by a roomy but purposefully nondescript sedan, whilst the other side was lined with cluttered shelves and packed workbenches. In the center stood a sleek, glossy black motorcycle, lovingly polished and in pristine condition.

Aria practically heard Sunset’s jaw drop.

Sunset’s eyes went straight to the shelves, which were filled with a staggering, unquestionably diverse collection of musical instruments, each one tucked away in ornate wooden cases. Alongside recent additions supplemented by fancy electronics stood antique pieces the sisters had accumulated over the years, many of which looked old enough to belong in a museum. Fitting, since some of them had indeed been on display at one point or another, though their current states were varying degrees of immaculate thanks to careful maintenance and occasional refurbishing.

“Woah,” Sunset gasped, her voice filled with awe.

Aria gave no response, simply walking over to a table in the corner. She picked up a small black plastic case, pulled a pair of sleek sunglasses and slid them over her eyes. Next, she opened up a plastic bag, unwrapped a lollipop and popped it into her mouth.

“These are all yours?” Sunset asked behind her.

“Yeah,” Aria replied, nodding curtly and sitting down on a stool, crossing her legs. “I check up on them once in awhile.”

"All by yourself?"

"Yeah."

“Your sisters don’t help you?”

“The idiot’s too clumsy and the skank can’t be bothered.” Aria snickered to herself, leaning against the wall and folding her arms, sitting back and watching Sunset take it all in. “Not that I’d let them. This is my thing, not theirs.”

“Hobby of yours?”

“Something like that.”

Sunset looked over at Aria and frowned. “What’s with the lollipop?”

“Helps me relax.”

“And the sunglasses?”

“Look cool.”

Sunset held Aria’s inscrutable gaze for a moment or two and then broke into giggles. When Aria tilted her head, Sunset paused and explained. “Sorry,” she said. “You reminded me of someone I know for a second there.” Turning, she gestured to the shelves. “Which one do you play?”

“All of them. You?”

“Well…” Sunset’s eyes roamed the shelves, eventually settling on an electric guitar tucked away in the back. “A friend of mine taught me how to play the guitar awhile back.”

Aria smirked slyly. “Give it a go if you want to.”

“Are you sure? You obviously spend a lot of time on these.”

“Oh, I do.” Concealed behind her sunglasses, Aria’s eyes bored into Sunset. “So don’t break it.”

Nodding in confirmation, Sunset walked over and carefully took the guitar out of its case. Pausing to admire the craftsmanship, she plugged it in and gave it a few experimental strums. Once she got a feel for it, she went into a few riffs, filling the garage with the sweet, energetic sound of an electric guitar in pristine condition. Sunset's fingers handled the strings with ease, clearly showing signs of rudimentary practice backed by a certain degree of natural talent. 

“Wow,” Sunset remarked once she stopped, pausing to admire the instrument. “You did a good job with this one.” Looking to Aria, she smiled. “So. How’d I do?”

“Passable.”

Smiling coyly, Sunset beckoned Aria over. “Care to show me how it’s done, then?”

“I’ll spare you the embarrassment.”

Sunset cocked her head to the side, gently setting the guitar down, unplugging it, walking over and pulling out a second stool to sit down in front of Aria. She leaned forward, clasping her hands together in her lap. “Why’d you come out here, Aria?”

Aria raised an eyebrow and flicked her head towards the shelves. “I told you already. Got work to do.”

“You haven’t done anything yet.”

“Can’t work with you breathing down my neck, can I?”

“Fair point,” Sunset remarked, her expression suddenly taking on a more serious tone. “But you haven’t asked me to leave yet, and I want to know why.”

Aria crunched down on her lollipop, then lowered her sunglasses to look at Sunset. Slowly, a sly smirk spread across her face. “Smart little girl, aren’t you? What, you think I’m up to something?” 

“The last time we spoke, you screamed in my face. Now you’re showing off your music collection and we’re having a civil conversation.” Sunset shrugged. “So yeah, I think something’s up, and I want to know what it is. Are you still mad at me?”

There we go. That wasn't so bad.

“Yeah, you’re breathing. Doesn’t make you special or anything.” Aria cackled again, sliding her lollipop out of her mouth and giving it a quick lick. “I don’t like you,” she stated, tersely. “We don't need your help. But… when it came down to it? You beat us. You’re strong, you know. When it was just your friends, I’ll bet Adagio could’ve kicked you all to the curb without breaking a sweat, but throw you into the mix and we never stood a chance.”

Sunset leaned back, pausing to think before frowning. “Where are you going with this?”

“What I’m saying… is that you don’t need to be afraid of me.” Aria jabbed a finger in Sunset’s direction. “I hate you, but I’m not nearly stupid enough to pick another fight that I know I can’t win. And Adagio’s smarter than I’ll ever be, so I'd hope she thinks the same way.”

"There's still time to change, you know. Who you are isn't written in stone."

"I said I wouldn't pick a fight with you." Aria glared intently at Sunset. "I didn't say I would forgive you. As far as I'm concerned, I never will. But there's no reason we have to fight again. I asked you not to hurt Adagio and since she's not screaming I assume you didn't. You did what you came here to do. Get out and I won't bother you again."

Sunset nodded, going quiet for several long seconds.

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Does that disappoint you?"

"Yeah. It does. I... don't know what I was expecting from this whole thing, but this sure wasn't it." Sunset lowered her head and sighed, then met Aria's eyes and gave a warm, genuine smile. "But I'm glad you let me try. And... I know this probably doesn't mean much to you, but if you ever change your mind..."

"I'll round up my flying pig and come knocking."

“Do you have a cellphone, by any chance?” When Aria shook her head, Sunset reached into her jacket, pulled out and unlocked her phone, and held it out. “Take mine, then. I'll get another one, but you can contact me if you need to. Even if you never use it, I'd like to know that you have it. And... if you ever need someone else to talk to, I can be there for you.”

Aria slowly reached out, picked up the phone and eyed it carefully.

About a second later, she flung it back at Sunset. “I’m not dying, dumbass. We know where to find each other.”

Fumbling at first, Sunset caught the phone. Slipping it into her pocket, she dug out a pen and paper, tore off a strip and jotted a number down on it. "Let me at least give you my number," she said, carefully handing the strip to Aria. "Just in case."

Aria rolled her eyes, snatched the paper out of Sunset's hand, and gave it a cursory glance. "Not gonna happen," she muttered. "So unless there's anything else you'd like to pester me with..."

"There's so many things I want to ask you, Aria. I want to get to know you better. And if you'll have me, I would very much like to be your friend, but I can't force you to make that choice." Sunset stood up, calmly composed herself, and stuck out her hand. "But if I'm not your friend, then I hope that at least I'm not your enemy either."

Maintaining an inscrutable gaze, Aria eyed the outstretched hand for several long seconds before rising to her feet, gripping it and giving a firm shake. "I don't want to see you again," she stated. "Whatever the reason."

"Okay. I don't agree with you, but it's your decision to make." Sunset placed her other hand on top of Aria's, offering a gentle touch and a warm smile. "Whatever you do, wherever you go, I wish you good luck. And... I hope Adagio gets better. You really care about each other, don't you? I think she'd like to hear that, if it's true."

Aria held an unflinching gaze, pulling her hand back and not speaking a word until Sunset finally turned and walked away.

A minute or two later, long after Sunset had vanished from view, Aria gave a slow but definite nod.

That went well.

She felt like there should have been more to say, but watching Sunset leave didn't feel as satisfying as she had thought. There was still a nagging feeling simmering inside her, but she hadn't a clue what it was that bothered her.

Back to work, then. She picked a saxophone off of the shelf and sat down, reaching for her tools. It took her a long time to get started.





Aria glanced at a clock on the wall, noting that a few hours had passed. Setting the flute she had been fiddling with for the last half hour or so, she went back to the shelves and picked out another instrument at random, settling on an old violin. Taking it back to her stool, she sat down.

Mere moments later, the door to the garage burst open. Sonata leapt inside, eyes flitting about erratically.

"Sonata? What're you-"

"No time!" Sonata snatched up the flute and yanked the violin out of Aria's hands before turning on her heel and bolting back out. "Come on!" she called back. "Hurry!"

Aria paused, hanging her head and sighing before pulling her sunglasses off and standing up.

What's that idiot up to now?





Closing the last of her now stuffed suitcases, Adagio stood up, closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. 

A moment later, her eyes opened, staring ahead and burning with a quiet, seething anger. 

Content for the moment to brood, she went over to her chair and sat down, resting her head on her hands.

Everything was as it needed to be. Her things were packed, ready to be taken at a moment’s notice. She’d wait until Aria and Sonata were asleep, then slip out of her room with her bags. She'd have a bit of walking to do and then a phone call to make. If she was fortunate, there would still be a few contacts in the next city over that hadn’t been released from her charm. Old victims lying in wait for when she found a use for them. At that hour, she would likely be forced to find a motel to spend the night in, but the next day she’d have a ride waiting to take her away.

She elected not to think of what might happen if her web of accomplices had been dissolved when those girls dispelled her song. 

I’ll be fine, she told herself. One way or another, I’ll skip town. I’ll have sufficient funds to find an apartment and lay low until I can figure out something more permanent.

She hadn’t lasted a thousand years by being careless, after all. Surely a mind as keen as hers could handle the challenge of discreetly resituating.

Of course, there was a certain delusional little girl she’d have to stop by and visit before she left... 

But the day was still young. Surely she’d have time to run a few errands.

She let out a satisfied chuckle, praising herself for figuring it all out so quickly. 

Just another day or two, and she’d be gone. Her sisters would be free to find their own path, free of the burden that had been her leadership. It might be rough for them at first, but she had little doubt that Aria would rise to the occasion. She’d take care of Sonata, hopefully. 

A faint smile formed on her lips. Those two were so sweet to each other, when they weren’t butting heads and a blue moon hung in the sky.

The satisfaction of her future being so clear was so enticing that she nearly forgot one of the best parts.

Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Sunset Shimmer.

Her mouth curled into a sinister smile. 

That would be the most challenging part, of course, but she was up to the task. She knew she was.

And so all she had to do was wait until her sisters went to bed. A glance at her clock told her that she still had a few hours.

What to do in the meantime, I wonder?

Her eyes lazily wandered her room, until they settled on the sleek piano in the corner.

Silently, Adagio moved over and stood in front of it, sliding the cover up and staring down at the simple but elegant keys. She ran her fingers up and down the woodwork, taking a moment to admire the craftsmanship.

The instrument itself was hardly anything special. Well-made, she supposed, but she had played dozens of well-made pianos. 

How long have I had this one? Twenty years? Thirty? Forty? More?

It was old, by the standards of most who would have looked at it. She’d presumably had Aria tune it on many occasions.

And starting that night, she’d never ask again, nor would she need to.

It was far too large to transport, unless she planned to throw subtlty out the window. 

Once more. For old time’s sake.

She pulled the stool out and sat down, her posture prim and proper as her long, slender fingers reached forward, positioning themselves almost of their own volition amongst the keys.

And then they began to move, sliding gracefully up and down the keyboard. Nothing fancy at first, merely a flurry of flowing arpeggios to warm up her fingers.

In the meantime, her mind filled with dozens upon dozens of pieces that she might play, many of them ones that carried fond memories, whether for her encounters with the one who had composed them or for the ones with whom she had played them before.

Somehow, none of them felt right. What kind of injustice was it, to waste one’s last few moments on a prized instrument following in the footsteps of another?

Pressed on by that thought, she flew blind, starting with a slow, somber dirge and going from there. Her fingers struck the keys with impeccable precision, her movements methodical but fluid. At first, she took great care to play softly, fearing what sorts of attention her haunting melody might bring, but it wasn’t long before she succumbed to the enticing rhythm and played her song with the power it deserved. She no longer felt her hands as part of her body, but more as just another component of the song, their movements guided only by instinct.

As her song grew, crescendoing and then gracefully slipping into diminuendo passages, she closed her eyes, gently swaying and letting the music flow forth unrestrained.

It was only a few minutes before one final cadence concluded her masterpiece, but they felt like an eternity that she would gladly have existed in for countless days.

With the last keys struck, she deftly pulled her hands back, opened her eyes and, despite her isolation, flashed a haughty smirk and flourished as if demanding the reverence of an unseen crowd. If there were indeed an audience before her, she felt certain that they would have adored every second of it.

First thing when I find a new home: I’m getting another one.

She sat in place for a few moments, savoring the satisfaction of flexing her talent and looking down at the keys with a loving gaze, reluctantly sliding the cover shut for the last time.

I’m going to miss you, but don’t worry. Aria’ll take good care of you. I know she will.

One final gentle caress, and she stood, turning her back on the instrument.

Scarcely had she taken a step when a sound reached her ears, faint through her door but nevertheless unmistakably the chipper sound of a flute. At first, the melody was hesitant, unsure whether or not it was wanted. It gradually lowered, wilting almost into silence.

For a few long moments, Adagio looked at the door, tilting her head and pondering the sound's significance.

And then her eyes went wide as she recognized the invitation for what it was.

Hurriedly, she spun on her heel and flung the cover of her piano open and prominently struck a few notes, ensuring they were loud enough to be heard and hoping that she had not missed her chance.

A second or two of silence passed, during which she looked frantically towards her door.

Then, to her relief, the flute returned. Again it was hesitant, but that time it wordlessly asked her to set a tune for it to follow.

Adagio eagerly complied, mentally composing a few measures in seconds and formulating the rest as she went. Spurred onwards by her newfound companion, her fingers danced and glided up and down the keyboard, filling the air with the sounds of a gentle tune.

Mere moments later, a violin joined in, pressed into the crook of a fuchsia shoulder whilst practiced hands manipulated the bow with contemptuous ease.

Honed by decades upon decades of synchrony, the three instruments harmonized in an instant, flowing flawlessly through rhythm after rhythm and seamlessly alternating roles, each one taking its moment in the spotlight before carefully retreating to give its sisters a chance to shine.

Again Adagio’s eyes closed, a warm smile on her blissful face as she once again let the music wash over her, guiding her every movement.

How fitting it was, that a siren would say goodbye not with words, but with a song.

Harnessing every scrap of will she could muster, Adagio absorbed every detail of the scene no matter how small, etching one last memory to cherish into her mind, where it would remain for the rest of her days.

If only for a few moments, it felt as though she had been reunited with them, joined by the bonds of music even as they remained separated by a wall of wood. The knowledge that she would likely never see them again threatened to tear her heart in two, but at least she could find comfort in knowing that their last few minutes together were spent doing what they loved more than anything else.

The music they played felt like it went on for an eternity, but the time finally came when a last majestic crescendo concluded the impromptu performance.

But even long after her fingers struck the last keys, Adagio remained on her stool, motionless save for craning her neck to look at her door, imagining clear as daylight what sight laid on the other side.

Thank you.

Her head lowered, a few joyous tears running down her cheeks.

I love you. I love you both.

May the tides carry you to calm waters.

Goodbye.





From that moment on, the house went silent. The sounds of music faded, shortly replaced by dejected shuffling and a few hesitantly uttered words of comfort.

Night slowly fell, accompanied by gloomy clouds. What began as a few trickling drops falling from the sky slowly escalated until it became a drizzle of falling water.

Still the house remained silent, until the moon was high in the sky and all traces of the sun vanished over the horizon.

Finally, a door creaked open. Adagio, garbed in an innocuous grey sweater, slipped out, locking it behind her and slipping the key into her pocket.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that the door to Sonata’s bedroom was open, but then she let out a sigh of relief when she saw that not only was Aria’s door also open, but there were two figures lying on the shabby mattress inside, fast asleep in each other’s arms.

A faint smile spread across her face as she went over, stopping by the doorway to look at them.

Somewhere in her head, a part of her wanted to join them. She wanted to rush over and shower them with hugs and kisses and loving caresses, but the moment she imagined their bliss turning to spite, her smile faded.

She left without a word, taking some comfort in the knowledge that they could find solace, with each other if not with her.

Down the stairs she went, taking a slight detour through the kitchen and then stepping out the door, a gust of chill wind blowing into her face the moment she set foot outside. Undeterred by the cold, she stuffed her hair into her hood and set off.

Though the neighborhood she lived in had been selected precisely because it was only sparsely inhabited, it took on an even more desolate tone once the sun set. One or two houses still had a light on at that late hour, but the majority were shrouded in shadows, only dimly light by street lamps. She pulled her hood over her face, concealing it and at the same time providing some shelter from the rain.

The route she took was one that she had only walked once before, but her keen memory guided her unerringly to her destination.

Some time after she left the door, she laid eyes on the house that she sought.

She crept up to the door with a hairpin in hand, slender fingers working quickly and methodically until the lock clicked open. She smirked, silently thanking Aria as she cracked the door open and slipped inside, careful to close it behind her.

As soon as she was inside, she stepped out of her shoes and set them down by the door, leaving her feet bare and her footfalls soft. 

With all the lights off and the windows closed, the house was plunged into darkness, so Adagio advanced with the utmost care, stepping slowly and feeling ahead of her for obstacles.

It took her a minute or two to make her way through the single-story house, pausing at every closed door and listening until finally, she heard a soft snoring sound. She tested that door's knob, grimacing a little when she found it to be locked. That one proved more troublesome, obscured by the interior's darkness, but she picked it easily and slithered into Sunset Shimmer's bedroom.

And there, not ten feet in front of her, laid the girl she sought, sound asleep under purple covers and snoring softly. Even in her sleep, she smiled, appearing to be the very image of serenity.

Without making a sound, Adagio crept over, reaching into her sweater. A stray beam of light snuck through the window, falling on a glinting blade of metal held in her emerging hand.

Quietly, expression blank but eyes gleaming with malevolent intent, Adagio stalked forward, advancing until she loomed over Sunset and gazed down with callous indifference. She reached out, shaping her free hand into a claw over Sunset’s throat as if prepared to throttle her.

Briefly, she imagined wrapping her fingers around Sunset’s throat, nails gouging into her flesh as she choked the life out of her.

Satisfying, perhaps, but far too troublesome. She held the knife up to her eye.

How pathetic it was, that a soul that wielded such power and had risen to such heights could be extinguished by something as simple as metal. Such was the tragedy of mortality.

So soft. So frail. So weak.

She had never stabbed anyone before, not intentionally. Even on the rare occasions when her plans had unraveled to the point of confrontation, there had been few situations that her song couldn’t defuse and even fewer that Aria hadn't been able to handle if it came to blows. Now that she thought about it, she'd miss having that gloomy purple thug hanging around. There was a certain thrill that came with dispensing retribution without lifting a finger.

But how hard could it be, to find the heart of a sleeping girl?

With her outstretched hand, she gently grasped the covers, pulling them down to expose Sunset’s chest. Then she held out her other hand, gripping the knife tightly with the point down, poised to pierce.

It would be so easy. Hardly more than a flick of her wrist, and that loathsome girl, the one who had brought so much grief into her life, would be gone forever. 

That’s right. It was so, so easy.

So why hadn’t she done it yet?

Do it. End her. You might not get another chance like this.

Glowering, she put her other hand on the handle to steady her trembling grip. She maneuvered the knife until it hovered just slightly above Sunset’s heart, and then she raised it.

An instant later, the knife plunged down.

If only for a moment, the room went completely silent and still.

Adagio’s heart pounded, but her eyes widened further when she realized that she had stopped with the point more than an inch away from Sunset’s soft chest.

No. No no no!

This isn’t the time! Just do it!

Clenching her teeth, she raised the knife again. Her whole body trembled, making it nearly impossible to take aim carefully. 

She’s just a girl. Why is this so hard?

Her chest heaved with each heavy, frantic breath, but no matter how much she thought she wanted to, the knife remained suspended in the air, moved only by her own shaking hands.

Because there’s a chance she might be right.

No matter how she tried to pretend to be engulfed by fury, a voice of reason spoke in the back of her mind, faint but just loud enough to be heard. It pained her to no end to admit that the girl might have had a point, but a part of her utterly failed to deny it.

And if she does…

Then maybe, just maybe, she was making a mistake.

She understands, doesn’t she? What it feels like to be afraid of being scorned, what it feels like to belong in another world. To have a home we can’t go back to.

She thought back to their last encounter, remembering the way that Sunset had held her, offering so much comfort and asking for nothing in return. She wondered if perhaps she might like to feel that again one day. 

But then an even more recent event pushed its way to the forefront of her memory.

Her fiery rage subsided, slowly but surely reducing to a mere smolder in the back of her mind. Though her face remained grim, she pulled the knife back slowly, letting it lower to her side. 

Quietly, she knelt down beside the bed. Her other hand reached out, giving Sunset the most gentle of touches on the cheek. It was not a tender gesture, but more of an appraising one. There was a softness to Sunset's face that she coveted, a warmth that she craved.

I suppose it would be a shame to ruin such a pretty face, wouldn’t it?

Besides, she’s only mortal. She’ll die one way or another, whether by my hand or not.

And if she is right…

Well, I suppose giving her a few more years would only be fair, wouldn’t it?

The words that Sunset had spoken to her earlier repeated in her mind, echoing through her thoughts and refusing to be dispelled.

Ever so slowly, she stepped back, slipping the knife back into her sweater and stealing away to the door. She stopped in the doorway to send one last look towards the figure sleeping so serenely in bed, blissfully unaware of her close brush with death.

Despite herself, she found that she lingered, a pang of remorse creeping up on her as she contemplated what she had just done.

Her brow furrowed in deep thought, but shortly relented.

“Sleep well, Sunset,” Adagio murmured. “You are more fortunate than you realize.”

She slipped outside, closing the door behind and making her downstairs to the front door, swiftly but silently. Stepping into her shoes, she opened the door, locked it and stepped out, vanishing away into the dead of night.

I’ll speak with them in the morning.

And if they scorn me…

Then I knew it was coming. But if they don’t…

How can I claim to love them if I don’t even try?
> Absolution
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adagio, sitting at her dining table with her legs crossed, fidgeted. On her left hand, four immaculate fingernails drummed on the table and produced an incessant rythmic clacking sound.

Outside the window, rain poured down from the sky, bombarding the ground with innumerous drops of clear, pure water. A gloomy haze of murky grey clouds covered the sky above.

In her right hand, Adagio held a single fragment of crimson ruby, idly running her fingers over it in a mockery of the way she used to caress it when it was whole and dangled from her neck.

What a strange relation she had with that gem, she mused. There had been a time when it had been her proudest feature, when it lay embedded in her chest and spread her impossibly majestic song across the land. Then she remembered the shock she had felt when first she felt it severed from her flesh, despoiled and grotesquely bound to her by a simple strap of black fabric. Eventually, she had grown accustomed to it, accepting it as being one more facet of the unearthly beauty her human body possessed that had been so delightfully useful. She supposed that she never gave much thought to how much she relied on it.

And then, in the present day, looking at it brought nothing but wistful melancholy.

How tragic it seemed to her, that an artifact of such immense power had been reduced to little more than a bauble that she played with to distract herself and to stop herself from trembling. 

For though it pained her to look at the remnants of the gem, it was a trifling pain in comparison to the way her face paled just at the thought of confessing her decision to her sisters.

Left to her own devices, she would happily have tucked herself away into a warm bed with a bottle of wine and an endearingly romantic novel, but she had willingly confined herself to the downstairs so that she might avoid doing exactly that.

Because luxury wasn’t worth running away.

She hadn’t noticed the precise moment she was no longer alone, but a cough made her look to the side and nearly fall out of her chair when she saw Aria standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded and wearing a torturously inscrutable expression.

They locked eyes for a moment, more than enough time for Adagio’s heart to start pounding. Her silver tongue failed her, producing not a single word.

Fortunately, Aria eventually spoke up. “Adagio. If I had known a flute was all it’d take, I’d have chucked one through your window.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Adagio adopted an expression of feigned confidence, slipping the gem into her pocket and primly resting her hands in her lap. “Good morning, Aria. You’re… well, I hope?”

Aria’s eyes narrowed, but she kept whatever suspicions she might have had to herself. “I’m fine,” she stated. “What’ve you been up to, Adagio?”

Right to the point, I see.

Whether or not it was intended or even present, Adagio couldn’t help but hear an accusatory tone in Aria’s voice. She bit her lip, hoping that her nerves remained concealed by her deep breaths as she deflected the question. “Perhaps it would be better to wait until Sonata’s here,” she said. “We need to talk. All three of us.”

She neglected to mention that the very idea of talking to Aria alone terrified her. Sonata, at least, she hoped to be the more amicable of the two.

It took all of her will to not wilt under Aria’s scrutinizing eye, but she endured until Aria broke away and slunk past her into the kitchen. A few moments later, she heard the distinct sound of a coffee machine. 

While Aria operated the contraption, Adagio took some time to try and calm herself. She’s fine so far, she told herself. No different than any other day.

Of course she is. I haven’t told her yet.

A clattering sound almost made her leap out of her chair, but a sideways look revealed it to be nothing more than Aria rummaging through the cupboards for her favorite mug.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Adagio looked down at her shaking hands and willed them to stop.

You’re better than this, Adagio.

She lifted her eyes in time to see Aria dump the scalding contents of her mug right down her throat, pausing only briefly to swallow and draining the mug in scarcely thirty seconds. Then, she went right back to fill it up again and drag herself over to the table, where she sat down across from Adagio without a word.

Say something. Ease her into it.

Adagio weakly cleared her throat, inadvertently attracting Aria’s eye. Fixed with an expectant look, she had no choice but to speak. “Aria… there’s something I wanted to say. You see, I-”

“Can it.”

Bewildered, Adagio promptly complied, shutting her mouth and sealing her lips. Aria's curtness promptly crushed whatever bravado she had mustered.

“I don’t want to hear a word from you,” Aria muttered. “Not until you apologize.”

Frowning, Adagio ventured a murmur. “I’m sorry?”

“Not to me, dumbass.” Aria flicked her head towards the stairs. “You have no idea how much trouble she’s been. Whatever you were doing, it better be worth putting her through that.”

Adagio shrank back in her seat, stifling a wince as a feeling of dread crept up on her.

She’s angry at me. Of course she is. I would be too, were our roles reversed.

And she’s right. 

“I’m sorry.”

Aria took a gulp of coffee and grumbled. “Whatever.”

“Is she coming? Sonata, I mean.”

“She was awake, last time I checked.” Aria scoffed. “Took ten minutes to get her to let me go.”

The accompanying image brought a hint of a smile to Adagio’s face, but Aria’s dour expression reminded her of her plight straight away.

A somber silence fell, charged with palpable tension. Though neither Adagio nor Aria spoke, they both eyed each other warily, trying to surmise what the other one was thinking. Despite Adagio's best efforts, Aria's unblinking eyes bored into her, seemingly mocking her by remaining as maddeningly unreadable as ever.

Mercifully, it couldn’t have been more than a minute before the sound of footfalls coming down the stairs stole Adagio’s attention.

A moment or two later, she saw Sonata shuffling down the stairs, her hair disheveled as she let out an adorable yawn that Adagio would gladly have fawned over any other day.

“Morning, Aria,” Sonata mumbled, rubbing her forehead and squinting. “Morning, Dagi.”

She waddled right past them into the kitchen.

Adagio looked at Aria. “Is she…”

“Give her a moment.”

Sonata poked her head around the corner and squinted at Adagio.

“Dagi?”

“Good morning, So-”

“Dagi!”

With barely any warning, Sonata leapt right at Adagio, very nearly bowling her over right out of her chair. As it was, she merely had to contend with a warm, cuddle-seeking pile of squirming excitement hurling itself into her lap.

Aria could not have missed how Adagio’s face paled and her eyes went wide with shock. Moving awkwardly, Adagio carefully took hold of Sonata, pushing her back and giving them some breathing room. “J- just a minute, Sonata. We… need to talk. All three of us.”

Sonata pouted, but obediently pulled up a chair and perched on it, looking at Adagio and eagerly anticipating a response. “‘Kay. So what’s the plan?”

A lump formed in Adagio’s throat. She gasped, stammering and struggling to speak.

“You do have a plan, right? That’s what you wanna talk about, right?” Sonata frowned, turning to Aria for confirmation. 

Aria folded her arms and glowered. “Maybe,” she muttered, locking eyes with Adagio. “But you got something to say first, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” Adagio blurted, hating how stale and vacuous the words sounded. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s alright, Adagio,” Sonata replied, hesitantly reaching out to lay a reassuring hand on Adagio’s shoulder. “You’re here now, right? You can tell us what to do, can’t you?”

Two words. That’s all she had to say, but those two words sent butterflies through Adagio’s stomach and made her tremble just thinking of them. 

Finally, she forced them out. “I… I can’t.”

Sonata tilted her head, brow furrowing. “Dagi? Did… you just say-”

“I don’t know!” Adagio blurted, tearing her eyes away. “I have no idea what we’re going to do next!”

Silence.

Agonizing silence fell whilst she dreaded an inevitable response.

“But… you always have a plan.” Sonata’s voice lowered, both in tone and in volume. “Are you saying…”

“Not this time,” Adagio murmured, head hanging and voice plummeting. “I’d only make things worse if I did. That’s all I’ve done so far. Maybe you’d be better off without me.”

Sonata looked at her, fidgeting anxiously and eyes flitting back and forth between Aria, who remained silent and judging, and Adagio. “Are you saying…” Sonata cut herself off, perhaps deciding that her thought was too dire to complete.

For a moment, tense silence reigned. Adagio said nothing, taking the shock on Sonata’s face and the grim anger on Aria’s as a sign that she had made a grave mistake. Perhaps things would have been better if she had simply vanished into the night. At least then she could have pretended that they had parted on good terms.

“I should go,” Adagio whispered, barely audible as she stood up. “You don’t need me dragging you down anymore.”

Pausing momentarily, Adagio lifted her head, forcing herself to see what response her actions would elicit.

Sonata was petrified. Whether it was fear, grief or anger, Adagio couldn’t say.

Aria, on the other hand, maintained a dour frown as she stood up and walked over to stand right in front of Adagio. On flat ground and bare feet, she had to look up slightly to meet Adagio’s eyes.

They stared at each other for several long seconds.

Time seemed to slow as Aria’s open hand lashed out. Adagio’s knees buckled even before it struck her, her resolve shattered by the anger on Aria’s scowling face. 

She collapsed. Clutching her burning cheek, she looked up from the ground at Aria with wide, panicked eyes.

“Two weeks,” Aria snarled. “Two weeks you wasted our time and now you’re just going to walk away? What the hell’s wrong with you, Adagio?”

“No, please. I didn’t-”

“Oh yes you did.” Dropping to a crouch, Aria seized Adagio’s collar and yanked her up off the ground to her knees. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you better suck it up and fix it.”

“Aria, leave her alone!” Sonata protested, stepping forward until a baleful glare sent her shrinking back.

“You see her, Adagio?” Aria leveled a finger at Sonata and turned her fury back towards an increasingly panicked Adagio. “Even she did something. Maybe it didn’t go anywhere, but at least she tried. Even had the guts to admit it when she screwed up, unlike somebody.”

Adagio’s eyes went wide, her face paling and her body tensing. She fell backwards when Aria released her grip, collapsing a second time. At first her mouth opened, ready to beg and plead.

She looked up and was vaguely aware of the motions of Aria’s mouth, but wholly fixated on the furious violet eyes above it. Those eyes bored into her as easily as a knife, stabbing into her and igniting a scorching pain in her gut.

Whatever it was that Aria said, it went unheard, masked by the anger with which she spoke. 

To Adagio’s eyes, that livid face resembled nothing less than a living nightmare, plucked right from the darkest depths of her mind and given a form more vivid than she would ever have imagined.

Turning herself over and around, she stumbled towards the door, crawling until she could clamber to her feet, fling it open and bolt out into the rain.

Aria watched the door fly open, giving it a vacant stare. 

The room went silent, save for Sonata’s gasp.

Slowly, Aria moved over to the door, glancing outwards as if hoping she would merely see Adagio taking a breather outside. Instead, she saw that mass of curly yellow hair moving away down the sidewalk with no hints of stopping or changing direction.

There was a pause while both girls reeled and processed what had just happened, both their hearts racing.

“She actually…”

The thought went unfinished.

Aria muttered a curse under her breath. Shortly after, she slammed the door shut and moved to stomp up the stairs while wearing a stony stare.

“But… I thought she was better now. She wouldn’t have come out if she wasn’t, would she?” Blinking twice slowly, Sonata looked to Aria. “Aria? She’s… coming back, right? You said she wouldn’t leave us, didn't you?”

The desperation in Sonata’s voice might as well have been a punch to her stomach, but Aria pressed on. “Guess I was wrong, then,” she snorted. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“But… what are we gonna do now?”

“I’m not the boss of you, Sonata. Do whatever you want. Doesn’t much matter to me.”

“Isn’t there something you can do?”

Aria stopped halfway up the stairs. “What, you want me to chase her down and talk to her? You can see how well that went. If she wants to leave, that’s her choice.”

“Aria…”

She knew that tone. If she turned around, she knew for certain exactly what kind of tragic pout she would see, the kind of face that just screamed ‘I’m helpless, please take care of me.’ After so many years of practice, Sonata had made an art form out of her sympathy-inducing expressions. 

And damn her luck, they usually worked.

Don’t make eye contact. Once you do, it’ll be too late.

Sonata sniffled.

Fuck.

Just a glance over her shoulder. That’s all it took before her free will was thrown out the window and her choice was no longer in her own hands. No wonder Sonata had no initiative when it was so trivially easy for her to get other people to help her. 

I just can’t say no to you, can I?

Aria sighed.

"Wait here."

Gritting her teeth, Aria ran up the stairs. A minute later, she came back down, one jacket draped loosely over her shoulders and a second one dangling from her hand. 

She paused at the door, jabbing a finger into Sonata’s chest. “I’m not gonna talk to her,” Aria snarled. “Talking’s not gonna do a damn thing right now.”

With that, she flung the door open and forcefully marched off into the rain.





Putting her head down, Adagio hugged her shoulders tightly, unable to stop herself from shivering.

Rain poured down around her, soaking her clothing and chilling her to the bone. How fitting, that her preferred element came in vast quantities of its most troublesome form just at the time when her spirits were lowest. 

She hadn’t stopped moving, not since she flung the door open and rushed out into the rain. There was a park not far from her home, a calm little meadow with a few sparse trees that did nothing to shelter from the rain. Presently, it was isolated, no doubt due to the weather.

Adagio found a bench and sat down, hanging her head. Her cheeks were damp, but somehow she knew that they were wet with only rainwater. She didn’t feel like crying. Maybe it was because she had known all along what would happen, or maybe she simply didn’t have any tears left to shed.

Hesitantly, she reached into her pocket and took out the shards of her gem, cradling them in her palms as water splashed down on them.

Her voice had been taken. Her gem had been shattered. Her string of failures had finally pushed her sisters into driving her away.

What is there left for me? What do I cherish that I have not been stripped of?

Perhaps, in some way, she deserved it all. Perhaps she was simply paying the price for her mistakes.

She had spent many hours before planning what she might do, where she might go, but all thoughts of the future faded and blurred, for it felt like none of it mattered in the slightest. A part of her wanted nothing more than to find a bed and lay down, hoping that she would awake and find that it had all been a nightmare. Another part of her knew for a fact that what she was feeling was real.

In her mind, she imagined turning through the pages of her diary, fondly recalling moments of her past. Happiness felt like an ancient memory, one that time had dulled and reduced to only a vague notion in her mind that she was certain she would never re-experience.

She heard a clattering sound below, and looked down to see that the shards of her gem laid on the ground. They must have slipped out of her grasp at some point.

But what would it matter, if they stayed where they laid forever? Their power was gone. 

They were broken. Shattered. Pretty, but ultimately worthless.

Just like their owner.

She hung her head, finding that she lacked the energy to even stand and keep walking. 

Rain poured down around her, battering her ears with an incessant droning that seemed to go on forever and ever.

For a little while, it all seemed to blur together. She didn’t move. The shards didn’t move. The rain kept pouring. Surely, the scene could have remained unchanged for decades and she would barely have noticed.

Until suddenly, another sound reached her ears, sending a chill up her spine and demanding her undivided attention.

She abruptly lifted her head, fearing at first that she was simply imagining things, but the sound endured.

Somewhere behind her, against all odds, a single voice sliced through the gloom and made the whole world brighten.

Singing. The voice was singing.

She heard a voice that she knew all too well, scratchy and tarnished yet carrying fleeting memories of a former quality of resplendence revoked by cruel fate. It sang a soft, soothing piece with a gentle tranquility hardly befitting of its creator.

The voice went on, drawing nearer and nearer. It missed a note or two here and there, barely managing the high pitch it once struck so flawlessly, and it cracked once or twice, but in the moment, Adagio could not have imagined a more beautiful sound.

And of course, when she lifted her head and saw the one from whose lips the song flowed, she beheld a visage just as beautiful, only ever so slightly less perfect than she fancied her own to be.

Aria’s melody trailed off eventually, replaced by a fit of hacking as she cleared her throat and sat down beside Adagio. Soaked hair clung tightly to her back and face, but even amidst the miserable weather, there was an unmistakable shine in her eyes. “Can’t hold it for very long,” Aria explained as she draped a coat over Adagio’s shoulders. “Voice is still recovering, I guess. ”

Adagio slowly reached up to the lapels of the jacket, drawing it more tightly around herself. Then she turned to the side, reaching out to lay a shaking hand on Aria’s cheek. Only when she felt the warmth and softness that she remembered did her lips part into a smile. “Aria. You… you can sing.”

“Not very well,” Aria scoffed. “I sound like a rutting koala.”

“But you can sing,” Adagio repeated, lovingly stroking Aria’s cheek. “How?”

“We never lost our voices, Adagio. We just forgot how to use them.” Aria pulled Adagio’s hand off of her face, holding it tightly in her hand while she locked eyes with Adagio. “Two weeks isn’t a long time, but I guess it was long enough to get started. Music's in my blood, Adagio. I'm not gonna give it up just 'cause some scrawny little brats try and make me.”

“You taught yourself, didn’t you?” When Aria nodded, Adagio’s smile broadened slightly and took on a warm, almost maternal glow. “I’m so… so proud of you. Can Sonata…”

“I haven’t told her yet. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’ve got a couple ideas, but they’re just theories. I didn’t want to get her hopes up over nothing if I was wrong and… I guess I was putting it off until you had something to say. Seemed like you'd have just gotten farther than me anyway. You've got a better eye for the magic stuff than I do.”

Adagio’s expression faltered. She turned and looked away. “And I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I let you down again.” Her expression clearly showed her pain as she looked up at Aria. “You’ll take care of her. I know you will.”

There was a long pause where both of them said nothing, but finally Aria spoke. “I didn’t come out here to apologize, Adagio. I don’t apologize. You know that. What’s done is done, no matter what I say now. And you’re the boss. You always have been. If you think it’s best that you leave, then I’m not gonna try and stop you, no matter how much I disagree with you. But I didn’t come out here to say goodbye, either.”

“You… don’t want me to go? Then why- why did you…”

“We waited for you, Adagio. Two whole weeks we waited for you. I think Sonata was standing outside your door every single day, hoping that you’d come out and talk to us. Because that’s what bothered her the most. Not that we lost our gems, not that we couldn’t sing anymore, but that you shut us out. She misses you, Adagio. I don't know if you realize how much it's been bothering her. I think she'd like us to spend some more time together.” Aria’s eyes turned to the ground, taking on a somber tone. “And as for me... I think I knew, the moment I found out you never came and got her that first morning, that you didn’t have a plan, but I kept telling myself that you did. Because you always do, don’t you? I convinced myself that there was a reason you were doing all that, that it’d all make sense in the end. So when I found out that you hadn’t done anything…”

“You were angry,” Adagio said, finishing Aria’s thought. “Of course you were angry. And you’re right. I should have told you earlier. But I was afraid of what you would do when you found out I didn’t have anything to say.” Adagio sighed heavily, lowering her head so the rain didn’t get into her eyes. “I guess all this is just one more mistake.”

“Maybe, but don’t act like it was all your fault.” Aria lifted Adagio’s face until their eyes met, separated only by a few inches. “Sonata was right, wasn’t she?”

“About what?”

“About you.” 

Adagio, momentarily confused, paused. Then, heightening her confusion further, she felt a pair of lean, muscular arms wrapping around her, drawing her in for a hug.

“C’mon back with me,” Aria whispered. “We’ll try and sort this out. If you still want to leave, then go, but let's not make this any worse than it has to be. And if you don't want to...”

It took a minute for Aria’s words to sink in.

I can stay with them. They haven’t spurned me. 

But… I failed. Twice now, I’ve failed. They don’t need me. I’ll just hold them back. They don’t-

She remembered the day before, when Sonata’s flute had temporarily roused her from her despair. Already she felt her spirits lifting, her lips shaping into a smile.

Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I want this.

“Make up your mind, would you? I’m freezing my ass off in this rain.”

Smiling, Adagio swatted Aria on the arm. “Watch your language,” she whispered into Aria’s ear. When she got a grumble in response, she giggled and gave Aria a quick peck on the cheek. “I love you, Aria. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“I know you do,” Aria replied, calmly pulling back and glancing towards the path home. She started to stand, but a hand grabbing her wrist and a reproachful glare held her in place. 

Giving Adagio a roll of her eyes, Aria grumbled. “What, you want to stay out here and freeze to death?”

“I,” Adagio stated, tapping her foot impatiently, “am not moving an inch until I hear you say it.”

“Y’know, I thought I’d like you more when you were done with the brooding stuff and back to being a prissy skank, but now I'm remembering why we never got along.”

Adagio scoffed derisively. “Skank? Don’t act like you never brought a friend home and didn’t tell us until morning.”

“I offered to share.”

“And I have standards. Are you going to say it, or shall we catch our deaths of cold? I’d prefer the former, but you’re leaving me with little choice.”

Aria muttered and swore under her breath, but the rain did wonders to bring her around and she eventually resigned herself. “I love you,” she stated in a cold, flat tone. “Smug diva,” she added under her breath. “Can we go now? I don’t want to punch you for once and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

Adagio stifled a giggle and stood to her feet, composing herself despite the rain and assuming her classic smug smirk. “I suppose, you vulgar troglodyte.”

“It’s bad form to answer an insult with a compliment.” Aria leapt to her feet, pausing to scoop up Adagio’s shards and hold them out. “C’mon. You know how Sonata gets when we keep her waiting.”

Smirking, Adagio took the shards, thinking for a moment that she saw them faintly glimmering. “Indeed,” she said, setting off down the sidewalk with Aria trailing behind her, just like things used to be. The sky was still murky, but she thought that she saw a faint rising sun shining through a slowly easing curtain of rain and gloom.





No sooner than Adagio first set foot in the warmth of her dry, familiar home, she felt another warmth as two blue arms wrapped around her and Sonata buried her head into her chest.

This time, though she reeled slightly from the suddenness of it all, her expression quickly turned to a tender smile and she replied by affectionately stroking Sonata’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sad,” Sonata said between sobs. “If- if that means you have to l-leave, then-”

“Shh…” Adagio pulled Sonata closer, continuing to stroke her hair and sooth her. “Don’t worry. We’ll talk this over.”

Aria silently slipped past them, making her way over to the table while Adagio swayed in place, gently rocking Sonata.

A minute later, Adagio lowered her hand to cup Sonata’s cheek. “Feeling better?”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Sonata nodded and smiled back.

“Good. Now, come along. We’ve got a lot of things to talk about.” Adagio walked over to her chair and sat down, gesturing for Sonata to do the same. Once all three of them were seated, she turned to Aria. “Now, you said you had a few ideas? About our gems?”

Aria looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? We’re going off of my ideas now?”

Adagio gave a nonchalant shrug. “Whatever you’ve got is more than I have, as we established.”

Muttering under her breath, Aria sighed and folded her arms. “Fine. Our magic isn’t gone.”

Sonata’s jaw dropped, while Adagio smirked and nodded. “Interesting,” she remarked, waving her hand. “Carry on.”

“These gems…” Aria emptied the shards of Adagio’s gem onto the table. “I don’t think they were the source of our magic. I don’t know if we’ll be able to put them back together, but maybe we don’t need to.”

Sonata cocked her head. “But if they weren’t where our magic came from, why can’t we sing anymore?”

Aria held up and index finger. “The gems were like… amplifiers, I guess. They didn’t do much of their own, they just made our own magic stronger.” A second finger went up. “Also, you haven’t tried hard enough.”

“Wait, what?”

“More on that later.” Aria waved her hand dismissively. “The point is, we’ve still got some magic. Just not very much, and I'm betting we can't invoke it without singing. Well, I mean.”

“Are you saying we might be able to sing again?”

“Lots of people can sing, and their voices aren’t half as good as ours are.” Aria chuckled dryly, assuming a confident smirk. “There’s no reason we can’t learn. Whether we’ll still be able to bend mortals to our will… I don’t know. Maybe we can figure it out, but maybe we’re just not strong enough here without our gems. We've always been weaker here than back in Equestria.”

Sonata’s eyes lit up with excitement as a wide smile formed on her face. “You think we can learn to sing? For realsies?!”

Aria rolled her eyes. “Duh. What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?” Ignoring Sonata for the moment, she looked to Adagio. “You’ve been quiet,” she remarked. “Got anything to say?”

Adagio nodded, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “How do you know all this, exactly?”

“I don’t. I’m no wizard, Adagio. It’s all just a theory.”

“A theory that you must have a reason to believe.”

Aria clenched her teeth, eyes flitting to the side. Despite her inscrutable demeanor, her hesitation made it abundantly clear that she was reluctant to speak. “I won’t bore you with the details,” she muttered.

Adagio glared at her, speaking more forcefully as she repeated her question. “How do you know all this, Aria?”

“I just do, alright?” Aria snapped, scowling. “What do you care where the answer comes from?”

Sonata frowned. “Is that why you had a bandage the other day?”

Aria froze in place as the conversation came to a screeching halt. 

Adagio gave her a stern look, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

Snorting with disgust, Aria locked eyes with Adagio. “We’re still immortal,” she stated, flatly. “Magic’s kept us alive all this time. It’s gotta be what’s keeping us from keeling over. And since we don't have the gems, it must be internal.”

Sonata let out a sigh of relief. “So we’re not dying, then?”

“Nope. Now, like I was saying-”

“How do you know?” Adagio repeated.

“How do you think?” Aria spat, glowering and throwing her jacket off to expose her bare arms. She roughly gripped her bicep. “Cut myself right about there and now it’s as good as new.”

The sound of the slap went through the entire room, but Aria barely flinched. “Heh,” she snarked. “You hit like a girl.”

Adagio, rubbing at her now stinging wrist, shot Aria a stern glare. “What were you thinking?” she spoke in a low, seething hiss.

“That we needed to know, Adagio.”

“And how would we know? How far would you have gone? And what if your guess was wrong?”

“Fuck,” Aria muttered. “It’s just a few cuts. I wasn’t gonna die.”

“That’s not the point, Aria! You could have hurt yourself! You could have-”

“Girls!” Sonata leapt in between them, pushing them away from each other. “Don’t start fighting again,” she pleaded, forcing an upbeat smile. “We can work this out. I know we can.”

Aria and Adagio glared daggers at each other, prompting Sonata to quickly look back and forth between them. “Why don’t we take a break?” she suggested, as calmly as she could manage. "Just calm down and think about stuff, okay?"

Adagio kept her eyes locked on Aria, both girls practically smoldering, but eventually relented and looked down at her soaked clothing. Conceding that Sonata had a point, she backed off. “I need a change of clothes,” she murmured. "And a bath." She moved to stand and paused to point a finger at Aria. “Once I’m done, we are going to keep talking about this.”

Turning swiftly on her heel, Adagio left her sisters without another word and stormed up the stairs.





Scarcely more than a minute later, Adagio pulled the bathroom door closed behind her, still grimacing. 

That reckless idiot. What in the world was she thinking?

Sighing, she rubbed her forehead and remembered what Sonata had said. Best not to get into another fight so soon.

Calm down. Think this through.

Once she was inside, she paused to look at herself in a mirror, curling her lip in disgust at her haggard, obviously distraught appearance and making a mental note to give herself the pampering of a lifetime once things had been sorted out between her and her sisters.

And she had come to relax, not to brood. Pushing thoughts of her troubles aside as best as she could, she moved over to her tub.

A few moments later, an ornately carved faucet dispensed hot water, filling the room with a pleasant, steamy aroma.

Adagio tapped her foot impatiently while the tub filled, occasionally glancing back towards the door and glowering, unable to take her thoughts off of Aria.

Once the tub was almost filled, she knelt down and stuck her finger in the water. Satisfying herself that it was adequately hot, she switched the faucet off.

She stood up, quickly discarded her soaked clothing, and stepped into the water, taking her time to get used to the heat as she laid down.

Once she was fully lowered into the warm, relaxing water, Adagio couldn’t help but sigh, her eyes closed and a blissful expression on her face.

She would be lying if she said she would take a bath over a swim in the ocean, of course. The heat did wonders to help her relax and there was something to be said for remaining in the comparative comfort of her home, but a part of her longed for the tides, for the sensation of lazily drifting out in the water and letting the waves carry her where they pleased.

Perhaps we’re due for a vacation, she mused. After all that’s happened, I think we could use some time to ourselves.

Emptying her mind of troublesome thoughts, she laid her head back and enjoyed the soak to its fullest, feeling rejuvenated after only a few minutes.

In her state of euphoria, she nearly forgot what troubles still vexed her. Somewhere down the line, her thoughts drifted back to what Aria had said and suddenly she thought she saw streaks of crimson amidst the clear waters.

A blink and a start revealed that the sight was simply her mind playing tricks on her, but still she felt a dull, nagging ache as she imagined Aria slicing into her own flesh with a knife just to see what would happen.

She’ll be fine, she told herself. She can be sensible, when there’s nobody around to goad her. It was just a one-time thing, and I'm sure she was careful.

In some way, it may have merely been the context of it all that had gotten to her. She had just been reunited with them, after all. Surely the flurry of events had simply frazzled her into speaking rashly.

She sighed again, though this time out of exasperation.

No sense putting it off any longer, she supposed. May as well bite the bullet and get it over with.

Reluctantly forcing herself to stand, she pulled the plug and let her tub start to drain. She stopped to snatch a fluffy lilac bathrobe off a hanger and then pushed the door open.

Her bedroom, as she would have expected, was more or less as she had left it.

Except that Aria was lounging on her bed, hands clasped behind her back and legs propped up.

Adagio cleared her throat. “What are you doing here, Aria?”

Aria glanced over and, noting Adagio’s conspicuous lack of attire, smirked. “Well, I’m already in bed and you’re already naked. Halfway to a fun night, if I’m not mistaken.”

Scoffing, Adagio wrapped her robe around herself and tied it loosely, just enough to be technically modest as long as she didn’t make any sudden movements. “We've been over this, Aria. There are certain things sisters shouldn't do, and I don't find it any more entertaining this time than the first.” Putting a hand on her hip, she glared at Aria. “Besides, I expect you to knock first. You know that.”

“Meh. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“That’s not the point. I’d think a recluse like you would appreciate the value of privacy.”

“Penny or two, maybe.” Aria swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting upright and facing Adagio. “But you wanted to talk, so I figured I’d spare you the walk. It’s a long way down the hall. Wouldn’t want your delicate soles getting callused, would we?”

“You’re not making this any easier for yourself, you know.” Adagio folded her arms over her chest, piercing Aria with a stern stare. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“You know what I mean.”

Rolling her eyes, Aria leapt up to her feet. “It worked out, didn’t it? Thanks to that knife, we know that we’ve still got some magic. Would you prefer to keep on thinking that we didn’t?”

“You could have hurt yourself, Aria. If your guess had been wrong…”

“What do you want me to say, Adagio? That it was a stupid idea? That I should have just sat on my scrawny ass and twiddled my thumbs until you deigned to grace me with your presence?” Aria jabbed a finger at Adagio. “You weren’t giving me any answers, so I went and found them myself.”

“Look…” Adagio pressed a palm into her forehead, clenching her teeth and sighing. “There’s no point in arguing. I don’t like it, but you did it. And I suppose you might have a point.” Letting out a heavy breath, her expression changed to one of concern. “But I want you to promise me you’ll never try anything like that again. Not without talking to me first.”

“A promise? From me?” Aria cackled to herself. “Fine, whatever. You know it’s not worth a damn, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll make that promise.”

“I’m holding you to it, you realize.” Adagio sauntered over to her desk, where she picked up one of the fragments of her gem and held it up to her eye. “And if there’s a way for us to be strong again, with or without these gems, I intend to find it. I suppose you’ve made a good start in that regard.”

Aria went silent for a moment.

“Listen, Adagio…” There was a distinct tremor of hesitation in Aria’s voice, a hint of unease that made Adagio turn to regard her. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

Without a word, Adagio set the gem and walked over to her bed, where she sat down and motioned for Aria to sit beside her. Reluctantly, Aria complied.

“Ask me, then.”

There was another pause until Aria finally spoke up. “Why did you shut us out like that?”

Adagio froze, wincing and hanging her head. “I was afraid,” she said. “I was afraid that you would… I don’t know what I was thinking, exactly. Blame me for my failure, I suppose. Resent me for my weakness. That sort of thing.”

Aria nodded slowly, a grave look etched onto her face. “Look, I don’t want to get all sappy on you, but… there’s a reason I’m still here, Adagio. There’s a reason I’ve stuck with you all this time, and it’s not just ‘cause you have a nice rack.”

Tilting her head, Adagio gave Aria a reproachful glare. "What have I told you, Aria?"

“What? It’s true. That’s not one of them, but I’ve told a lot of lies. Everybody who ever tried to get close to me, I had to lie to. Even the ones I liked. It was the only way for us to be safe. Too many people have tried to hurt us, Adagio.”

“You’re not saying anything I don’t already know. Where are you going with this?”

“My point? My point is… I trust you, Adagio. You and Sonata, and nobody else.” Aria reached over and weaved her fingers into Adagio’s. “All this time, whenever things got rough, all we had was each other.” Aria closed her eyes, breathing deeply. “But you don’t trust us, do you?”

Those simple words struck Adagio as harshly as a hammer. When she found that she couldn’t bring herself to deny them, her shoulders slumped and she looked away.

“You wanted to keep us thinking that you were always in control, didn’t you?” Aria forced a chuckle. “I don’t have a problem with that. I’d like everyone else to think of me as some kind of sexy badass or something. What I do have a problem with… is that you were afraid of us knowing the truth.”

“The truth?”

Aria nodded. “You like to think that we can’t change, don’t you? That you’re whoever you are, whatever you are and that you can’t change your nature and all that. You wanted us to think that you were Adagio Dazzle, the most perfect siren to ever walk the earth and that there was nothing that you couldn't do. Or something like that.” Lifting her eyes to meet Adagio’s, Aria’s face took on an exceedingly uncommon softness. “But then you went and changed, didn't you? The Adagio I know? From back in Equestria? There was never a problem she couldn't handle herself. She wouldn’t run away and cry in a corner, no matter what anybody did to her. And she certainly wouldn’t give up on her sisters.”

Trembling, Adagio fought back tears. “What would she have done, then?”

“If they took your magic? You’d claw your way right back up to the top where you belong. You’d do it all over again, but this time without your magic, just to show that you could.” 

“But I can’t,” Adagio murmured. “Twice now, with more power than I thought I could even dream of, I’ve failed when it mattered most. Now I can't even sing.”

"Didn't stop me. I'm ahead of you now 'cause I've had two weeks. Give it an hour or two and you'll be schooling me."

"But still... I failed. How can you just..."

“Bullshit.”

Frowning, Adagio cocked her head.

“Yeah, we lost. We lost because some dumbass we didn’t even know existed had some kind of transforming car. Who the fuck would’ve seen that coming?” Aria reached out with her other hand, resting it over Adagio’s heart. “Your plan? It worked right up until some deus ex machina bullshit screwed us over. The good stuff was all you and nobody in their right mind would ever have planned for the bad stuff. Those girls? They're lucky. Stupid lucky. Put you and them on a level playing field and you'd run circles around them. You did, for awhile.”

Pausing to chortle, Aria smirked. “And you don’t really think me and Sonata could have pulled it off as well as you did, do you? Fuck, they'd have tried to burn us at the stake again if you had let me do the talking.”

A moment or two passed, but then Adagio found herself slowly smiling. “You really mean all that?”

“Every word. You’re not a failure, Adagio. Step back and take a look at yourself. Not at what you're not, but at what you are. There's a lot of things I can respect about you, Adagio. Might even admire one or two. You're not perfect, but you don't need to be.” 

Adagio’s eyes closed. When they opened again, they glistened, welling up with tears that she no longer had to hide. She sprang forward, sweeping Aria up in a loving embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she said, already sobbing. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t be. This kind of stuff's been bothering you for awhile, hasn't it? Maybe I should've have caught on earlier, but..."

Aria trailed off, an affectionate nuzzle convincing her that words were neither needed nor wanted.

Neither of them heard the door opening when Sonata came in, but neither one shied away when she enthusiastically joined in, snuggling in between them and sighing softly.

Joyous tears fell freely from Adagio’s eyes, but for once she felt nothing but joy as she realized that it was alright to shed them.

She didn't have any plans for once, but she knew that they would figure something out. Together, exactly the way they were supposed to be. For the first time since the Battle, she thought of the future and smiled.

And as she sat there with the two girls she treasured above all else, smothering each other in affection, she felt a strange sensation. A tingling touch of bliss, a faint reminder of the ecstasy that came with using her magic. If only for a moment, she even felt a song on the tip of her tongue, as if all she had to do was open her mouth and beautiful music would flow from her lips.

I can’t sing. Not anymore.

But I will. One day, I will sing with them again.

Right now? I don't think I need to.










> Reunion
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laying together on a queen-sized bed, comfortable and relaxed underneath luxurious lilac blankets, three figures stirred slightly, snuggling up to each other long before any of them awoke.

Even then, once all three of them had opened their eyes at least once, it was quite some time before any dared to end the moment. Their tradition of sharing a bed, despite being only a week old, had so far never failed to brighten their mornings with a few minutes of quiet, affectionate cuddling.

Or an hour, as had been the case from time to time. Cuddles had been known to easily distort one’s perception of the passage of time.

Aria, as usual, was the first one to rise, extricating herself from the enveloping fluffiness that was Adagio’s hair and slithering out of Sonata’s arms.

Sonata followed suit, picking her head up off Adagio’s chest and sitting up. She stretched her arms and gave what was, objectively speaking, the single cutest yawn known to Sirenkind.

Finally, Adagio pushed herself up against the wall, hanging her head and rubbing her eyes. “Morning, girls,” she said.

The other two gave murmured greetings of their own. 

Then there was a pause. Early mornings were far from their ideal times to converse. 

By the time two minutes had passed, they had decided that there was nothing more to say and had promptly curled up next to each other again.

A few more minutes passed.

“Breakfast sounds good,” Aria mumbled into Adagio's shoulder.

Adagio started to step out, but Sonata insistently pushed her back down and sat up. “Wait here, Dagi. I’ll bring it up when it’s done, ‘kay?”

“We’ve been over this, Sonata. You don’t need to-”

A very insistent pout quickly shut her up. Sonata gave a single fervent nod and wriggled out of the covers to stumble towards the door.

Adagio sighed, but resigned herself to her fate and laid back. Breakfast in bed every day was apparently a welcome benefit of having overly affectionate sisters. Who knew?

Beside her, Aria adroitly sprang to her feet, turning to look at Adagio and make an insistent gesture telling her to wait. “I’ll go keep an eye on her,” she said. “Don’t you dare get out of bed.”

Rolling her eyes at the now familiar pampering they expected her to tolerate, Adagio obligingly nestled back into the covers, waving Aria off whilst curling up with her many pillows, considering herself fortunate that her sisters had at least been considerate enough to let her talk them out of bathing her in the mornings as well. They had apparently resolved to make up for the drama of the week prior by doting on her. If they had their way, they'd be treating her like a queen.

Which, now that she thought about it, actually sounded quite lovely, so long as it wasn’t her sisters who had to handle it. She added an extensive list of luxury treatments to her growing vacation agenda.

Adagio sighed again, dreamily. Her pillows, now that she took the time to appreciate them, were quite soft. She happily sank into them.

If this day was going to be like the ones before, it was going to be a long one.

No reason she had to rush to start it. By the time she finally heard Sonata knocking, she had very nearly fallen asleep again.





One hour, a cup of freshly brewed jasmine tea and a steaming plate of eggs, sausage and bacon later, Adagio finally dragged herself out of bed and towards the nearest shower.

About another hour and a half later, when Sonata had helped her finally get her hair dried and brushed and she deemed herself presentable, she went downstairs and tracked down Aria.

“Ready?” Aria asked, downing her fourth mug of coffee.

Adagio nodded, and the three of them made their way out to the garage, ready for a grueling session of Aria’s demanding instruction.





She could already feel her voice straining, but an encouraging look from Sonata spurred her to push through and finish the last few notes, struggling but managing to at least hit a few of them. Compared to the expertise with which she had sung before, it felt like knitting wearing mittens, but every step of progress however small gave her a slight rush of excitement that drove her to keep trying.

“Not bad,” Aria noted, her tone only subtly impressed. “I told you you’d be better than me. It’s only been a week and you’re already catching up.”

Only because you’ve been holding back to get us up to speed, Adagio added in her head.

“Yeah, you’re sounding really pretty today!” Sonata chimed in, beaming in that cute way she did when she was excited. “Ooh, I can’t wait for us to sing together again!” A momentary look of distress came over her. “I still don’t feel very magicky, though. What’s up with that?”

“We might need to put the gems back together,” Aria replied. “Or maybe we’re just not good enough to properly handle our magic or something. I’unno.”

Adagio giggled, a faint smile creeping onto her face. “We can worry about that later. Just make sure to keep practicing on your own while I’m gone. Can’t have you getting rusty, can we?”

Sonata pouted. “Are you sure you still have to go?”

“It’ll be at least a few weeks until I can make any definite plans, Sonata. I can’t just snap my fingers and go on a cruise, you know, so it’s not like I’m vanishing on you again. And I won’t be gone for long. A week or two at the most, I’d hope.” Adagio moved over to Sonata, stroking her hair and offering an encouraging smile. “I think it’d be good for you if I gave you some time to yourselves. If all that Aria’s done is any indication, you two will be just fine without me looking over your shoulders. Maybe even better. And I don’t know about you, but I think I’m due for a vacation. You should take one yourselves.”

“But you’ll come back, right?”

“Of course. I’d never leave you, Sonata.” 

A voice in the back of her head reminded her that she very nearly did, but a quick peck on her cheek from Sonata did wonders to banish her doubt and remind her of reality. The way Sonata had to stand on her tiptoes to reach up never failed to make her smile.

“We’ve been at this for a while now,” Aria noted, drawing Adagio and Sonata’s eyes to her. “Ready to take a break?”

Sonata shook her head. “Can’t we keep trying? I feel like we’re getting better already.” She went into a short verse to demonstrate, holding a rudimentary tune for a few moments before her weary voice cracked and she trailed off.

“Maybe later,” Adagio said. “I think we’re all pretty worn out by now.”

Pouting, Sonata nodded, gave a hastily murmured agreement and skipped back inside, no doubt intent on finding something shiny to distract herself with.

The room felt noticeably quieter without her.

Adagio lingered, deducing from Aria’s silence that she had something to say.

“I still don’t agree with you,” Aria stated once Sonata left.

“Are we still arguing about this? I told you already, I’m not going to keep ordering you around.” Adagio scoffed, eying Aria incredulously. "And I thought that you, of all people, would appreciate a little independence."

“Why shouldn’t you? No matter what you say, you’ve been better at the whole evil mastermind thing than we’d ever be.”

"I'm sorry, Aria." Adagio's eyes fell to the ground, her expression somber. "But after what happened before... I don't think you should have to follow me anymore. Three times we performed at the school and I took the spotlight every single time. You two deserve better than being overshadowed like that." 

“You were never-”

“I’m done discussing this, Aria. After all that’s happened, I am not going to lead you two around anymore. We will find our way, but we will do it together.”

With that said, Adagio spun on her heel and opened the door, only pausing when Aria cleared her throat.

“I still don’t agree with you, but I’m not interested in arguing.” Aria gestured towards the stairs. “Anyway, I left you a present on your door. Take a look at it, would you?”

Adagio looked at Aria and frowned. “A present?”

“You don’t have to make such a big deal out of it.”

“Dare I ask what the occasion is?”

“Who says I need one? You never ask when Sonata wants to give you a present.” Aria muttered under her breath and made a flippant swatting gesture. “It’s not like it’s a big deal anyway. I’ve had it for a little while, but I’m never gonna use it so I figured you might like it. Seems like your kind of thing.”

Adagio raised an eyebrow. Her interest piqued, she turned on her heel and swiftly made her way up to her room.

Sure enough, there was a slip of paper stapled to her door. Frowning at the blatant woodwork abuse, Adagio carefully tore it off, made a mental note to make Aria take out the staple later, and looked back at the paper.

The string of numbers looked vaguely familiar, but the red and orange sun emblem made it quite clear what their significance was.

Adagio went silent for a long time until finally, she turned on her heel and walked away.





A relaxing breeze blew. Waves gently broke against the coast, washing over a shore of fine sand.

Beaches, Adagio found, were one of those things that most people simply did not appreciate. She had never particularly enjoyed the practice of simply basking in the sun, not since she had been burdened with a warm-blooded body. Nor did she have any respect for those who insisted that time on the beach had to spent doing something.

No, her idea of enjoying the beach was to be laying back on a comfortable chair in the shade of her umbrella with an engrossing novel. Occasionally, she would get up to go for a quick dip in the ocean, just long enough to let the saltwater sooth her, and then she would go right back to her chair and her books.

Because that, to her, was the whole point of the beach. To relax and enjoy the scenery. To feel the sea breeze blowing through her hair, carrying with it that distinctive salty smell.

Of course, her relaxation was frequently interrupted when a very bored, very talkative Sonata needed something to do. One of the many vices Adagio endured because she knew Sonata would make up for it by doing something unbearably endearing.

But those moments were in the past, from times when they had made a tradition of going down to the sea at least once a month, if not more. She couldn’t remember why they had ever stopped, but she made a note to pick it up again.

Adagio sat on a plain wooden bench perched on top of a cliff overlooking the very beach that had driven her to ponder. A few sparse trees provided some measure of shade and seclusion. There wasn’t anything special about the spot, just a hidden overlook that one had to go quite a ways from the beach proper to find.

Or just a quick jaunt from the parking lot, but she found that most people rarely took the effort.

But she did. 

Because that was the point of beaches, to enjoy the scenery, and she had quite a view before her.

The sea sparkled and gleamed, churning and writhing endlessly. Above it, she beheld a glorious sky awash with vibrant streaks of red and orange and purple, the last few minutes of a shimmering sun setting below the horizon.

Back in Equestria, she had learned from her time on land that the sun didn’t set on its own. It rose and fell only when it was commanded to, moved through the sky by the magic of ponykind.

And yet the natural sunset she was now used to didn’t need any of that.

It wasn’t magical. It wasn’t even intentional.

It just… happened.

One of the most beautiful sights she could see, plucked straight from her memories of Equestria, and yet it needed not a hint of magic to be resplendent.

Maybe there was something to be learned from that.

Adagio chuckled to herself, laughing at the irony of praising a mundane sunset mere minutes before a very magical Sunset arrived.

She looked down at the paper in her hands, staring at the number and pondering why Aria had given it to her when, if anything, Aria seemed to despise Sunset even more than she did. There must have been a reason, but she found, as was often the case when dealing with Aria, that she simply couldn’t fathom it.

Although, now that she looked at it more closely, she could see the faint outline of ink bleeding through from the back. Raising a quizzical eyebrow, she turned the slip over and read the jumbled text scrawled on the reverse side.

Say the word and I’ll break her legs for you. Or just chat. Y’know, do whatever. 

When you bang her, I want to see pictures.

Inscribed underneath the words were a pair of interlocking scissors rendered in astonishingly precise detail.

Adagio let out a long, forlorn sigh. 

“‘When?’ Get engaged within the hour one time and they never forget it.” Adagio slipped the paper into her pocket with an indignant huff. “Smug hypocrite,” she added, folding her arms across her chest.

Aria must have been trying to help her in some way. And now that she thought about it, it was Sonata who had dragged Sunset into the picture to begin with.

She thought of her sisters, of how perilously close she had come to severing her bond with them. Perhaps there was a remote chance that their paths would have crossed some time in the future, but the possibility seemed staggeringly unlikely. For all intents and purposes, she had intended to say goodbye to them for the last time.

And yet she hadn’t. 

As much as she would like to think that she would have had the sense to go back and talk things out of her own volition, she couldn’t help but suspect that she had needed a little nudge.

Sunset, perhaps, had inadvertently stopped a thousand-year-old bond from being irrevocably shattered.

She hurt me. Struck me down and stole from me what I had worked so hard and waited so long to attain.

The thought brought a faint ember of anger, but it never escalated further.

But I’ll get it back. If there is even a shred of magic in this world, then I will find it.

And she gave me back my sisters when I thought that I had lost them.

Such kindness deserves a reward, does it not?

That was why she was there, she told herself. Not because she had forgiven the girl, or even because she liked her. She was there because she had a debt to repay and indulging Sunset was the least she could do.

Although…

She understands me like no one else can. If there is anyone out there…

Memories of their last interaction came flooding back, bringing with them an insufferable longing. 

And to her dismay, she found her mind wandering, conjuring up fanciful images of Sunset comforting her again and she realized how anxiously she counted the seconds that slowly ticked by.

She didn’t know what to make of those feelings, so she swept them aside and resolved to come back to them when she had some time to think and to reflect.

I could at least try to be honest with her, she mused. She seems like the type who'd appreciate a little honesty.

And so she made a little promise to herself, a promise to be honest. If Sunset had a point, then it might go well. If she didn’t, then it wouldn’t be the first promise a Siren had broken on a whim.





Only a few minutes later, she heard the roaring sound of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot, followed by the clomping of boots and the crunching of dirt. Mere moments later, Sunset sat down beside her, pulling off her helmet and letting her bright, wavy hair flow down her back. 

“Hey,” she said, smiling cheerfully. “You look like you’re doing better.”

Without even willing it, Adagio felt herself smiling in return. “I am,” she replied. “We’re still sorting things out. There might still be another argument or two in our future, but we’ll get through it.”

“Glad to hear it.” Sunset leaned back, draping one arm over the bench. She looked out over the sea. “I can see why you wanted to come all the way out here. It’s a lovely view. And it’s good to see you smiling,” she remarked.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. You should do it more often. It’s a good look for you.”

A moment passed, and then Adagio laughed. Not the same way she had laughed before, not a malevolently eerie cackle. This was more of a giggle, light and melodic. Playful, even.

Once she finished her short laughter, Adagio flashed another smile, this time one that she willed but had no need to force. “Perhaps I will, then.”

Sunset gave a giggle of her own, beaming. 

Adagio turned to look out over the ocean, and for a few moments the two girls were more than content to sit together in silence and enjoy the view. Just two girls, sitting together on a bench and watching a beautiful sunset.

Two at once, in Adagio’s case.

Eventually, out of the corner of her eye, Adagio saw Sunset looking at her, with no small amount of joy and a trace of affection.

“I’m glad you gave Aria your number,” Adagio remarked, neglecting to mention that they probably already had it lying around somewhere. “I don’t think I’d have thought to call you otherwise.” Looking over at Sunset, she smiled. “But I’m glad I did. It’s good to see you again.”

“I’m glad it’s on better terms this time,” Sunset replied. “It seems like you’ve really changed since... wow, has it really been a week already?”

“Have I?” Adagio raised an eyebrow, shifting to face Sunset head on. “Do tell.”

“Well… it’s hard to put my finger on it. You’re just… nicer, I guess.” Sunset frowned, furrowing her brow in thought. “I mean, by the time we’d been talking this long last time, you looked like you were ready to strike me dead then and there.”

“You never know,” Adagio remarked, smiling coyly. “I might be trying to pull the wool over your eyes. Lull you into a false sense of security and all that.”

“I’ll be honest, I was a little suspicious the last time we talked,” Sunset admitted. “Aria’s attitude kinda put me on edge, I guess. But right now? I think I’m alright giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

“I don’t see why you would,” Adagio said, tilting her head. “I know I wouldn’t, if I were in your shoes.”

“My friends gave me a second chance,” Sunset stated, as simply as if she were calling the sky blue. “Maybe I was worse than you, maybe you were worse than me, but I don’t think that’s what matters. I think that giving you this chance is the right thing to do, so I’m going to do it, but I won't get anywhere if I don't trust you.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“The way I see it, it is.”

“Do I really seem like such a good person to you?”

“If there’s one thing my friends taught me, it’s that anyone can be a good person if they want to.” Sunset pointed to Adagio’s heart and smiled. “And from what I’ve gathered, you three really do care about each other, don’t you?” Noticing how Adagio smiled fondly at the mention of her sisters, Sunset chuckled. “If that’s not enough to tell me that you could be a good person, I don’t know what is.”

Adagio nodded silently, taking advantage of the lull in the conversation to select her words carefully. She racked her brain, trying to decide what it was that she wanted.

Sunset, however, seemed intent on keeping her talking and prompted her accordingly. “So what’s next for you? What do you want to do now?”

“Who knows?” Adagio murmured. The way she imagined it, the excess wealth they had been hoarding over the years would last as long as they needed it to, so long as they kept their decadence in moderation. “I'm not sure it matters, to be honest. I want them to be happy, one way or another. All this time, I've assumed that would mean getting our power back. But we'll see how things so. Maybe I was wrong." Not that having it wouldn't hurt. Adagio turned to Sunset and gave her an expectant look. “You sounded like you have a suggestion.”

“You know… it might be a little rough at first, but I’m sure you’d be welcome to come back to CHS if you wanted to.”

“You mean… go to school? Make some friends, give up my villainous ways and be a productive member of society? Be… normal?” Adagio trailed off into a dreamy sigh. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not so bad. But you’d have to work at it.”

Adagio crinkled her nose at the mention of work. “Hmm. Oh well. As enticing as you make it sound, maybe I could put in a little work. Not sure about the high school part, though. I might not be completely up to date, but I’ve had my fair share of learning.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Have you…”

“We’ve had a lot of spare time on our hands, Sunset. And with how weak our magic’s been, I thought it best that we have other skills to rely on.” Adagio looked away, smiling fondly. “They were a little apprehensive at first, but they’ve found all sorts of hobbies that they enjoy. Aria even helped invent a new branch of mathematics… how long ago was the first time? Thirty decades? Forty? Somewhere around there."

Noting Sunset’s sudden silence, Adagio glanced to the side and, upon seeing the momentary look of shock on Sunset’s face, couldn’t help but break into giggling. “You thought silver tongues and pretty faces were all we had to offer, didn’t you?”

“N-no, that’s not it at all!” Sunset stammered, blushing. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you never really seemed like the academic sorts to me.”

Adagio raised an eyebrow. “I have hundreds of books in my bedroom.”

“Um…”

“I don’t mind,” Adagio remarked, leaning back and smiling sweetly. “I’m used to it by now. It would be silly of me not to take advantage of people who think I'm just a pretty face."

“Their loss,” Sunset remarked before tilting her head. “But while we're on the topic, may I ask you something else?”

“I suppose.”

“If you’ve been around for such a long time, you must have seen a lot of things. It must have been pretty fascinating, getting to see the world change as much as it has.”

“I suppose,” Adagio repeated, flashing a knowing smirk. “And you’d like to ask me about some of them, wouldn’t you? That’s usually the way this part goes.”

“Well…” Sunset rubbed her neck awkwardly. “I don’t really know this world’s history very well. Or… pretty much at all for that matter. Never seemed all that important to me, so I don't really have anything to ask you about. It was actually something else I was curious about.”

“Oh? Go on.”

“Well, I imagine you’d have met a lot of people as well. Were there any that you, y'know, liked?” When Sunset saw Adagio’s smile fade, she winced. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I understand.”

Adagio went silent, lost in thought. A part of her, almost unconsciously, hurriedly spun a web of lies, a flurry of disingenuous answers with which to deflect the question and steer the conversation in a more comfortable direction.

For once, she suppressed that instinct. The train of thought she was about to pursue was exactly the sort of thing she had opened up about before.

She's not going to hurt me.

I should indulge her. It’s the least I can do. Kindness must be rewarded.

But if I’m to be honest with her, then…

Oh, what does it matter? She’s a smart little girl. Probably figured it out the second I told her.

“You’re right,” Adagio began, her voice low and wavering. “And you’re not the first.”

“The first to do what?”

“To find out what I am. They always missed a detail or two, but many clever men and women have surmised that I’m not like them.” Adagio closed her eyes, breathing heavily. “I’ve been called a lot of things, Sunset. Muse, goddess, queen… monster. Witch. Succubus.”

Sunset immediately winced. “I’m sorry. I know the feeling.”

“I lost track of how many tried to hurt me,” Adagio continued, looking down at her fingernails and idly fidgeting. “So I stopped giving them a reason. I can’t claim to remember every pretty face that caught my eye, but there were many. Not as many as my sisters would have you believe, but I've had more than a few acquaintances, men and women who longed for my company and enticed me with clever words or promises of luxury, or some whom I desired. It always went the same way; I would charm them, perhaps with a song, and then I would love them for a little while. Perhaps only a day, perhaps a week or a month or even a year if they were fortunate, but I would always leave them one night.”

“All those people… were there any that you cared about?” A subtle hint of anger seeped into Sunset’s voice, accompanied by a clenching hand. “Any that you thought twice about singing to?”

“There were a few I was fond of, I suppose. And I didn’t always sing to them. My song can be… draining, if listened to long enough. Some of those people did such beautiful things that I couldn’t bear to deprive them of their will. And there’s a certain thrill in knowing that I didn’t need any magic to have my way.” Adagio’s head lowered, one of her hands idly twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “But I could never have been honest with any of them. Many men have been fortunate enough to find their way to my bed, but not a single one ever knew me.” 

She paused, mustering the nerve she needed and reminding herself that she had said she’d be honest. Her face and voice took on a grave tone, but she forced herself to keep speaking. “And not a single one produced the child I desired.”

A long moment of silence passed before she looked up, wilting when she saw the earnest sympathy Sunset gave her.

“That’s what you meant, when you…” Sunset made a vague gesture and then started to reach out. “Adagio, I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Adagio murmured. “Don’t apologize.”

“Are your sisters…”

“As far as I know. We’re creatures of magic, not flesh and blood. But they’ve never talked about it. It doesn’t bother them, I suppose.”

“But it bothers you, doesn’t it?”

It used to, Adagio mused, ready to voice that thought when a more enticing one occurred to her.

The issue was an old one, whatever grief it may once have brought being long since quelled. Perhaps there had been a time when considering it made her distraught, but those days were past. She had accepted her plight and overcome it.

If she was to be perfectly honest, she couldn't even imagine why she had thought to mention it in the first place. The first time was excusable, when she was hardly in her right mind, but the idea that she would bring it up again voluntarily baffled her.

Whatever the reason, she had. And now that she had, another thought occurred to her.

She thought back to her promise of honesty, a faint but fleeting pang of guilt creeping up on her as she broke it.

“Every day,” she murmured, her voice faint and her expression distant. She would never have cried if she had not willed it, but she flooded her mind with painful memories, forcing herself to recall her grief at being maimed and her anger towards the one who did it to her. Her tears would not have come, but they heeded her call. She let herself sink back into misery, knowing full well that Sunset would leap at the chance to lift her out of it.

And Sunset, ever so kind, was more than willing to oblige. Once Adagio made her distress known, Sunset gently drew closer, pulling Adagio into an awaited embrace that she eagerly accepted.

How pathetic she must have looked, reduced to clinging to a mortal girl and phantom pains.

Implications be damned. She knew what she wanted and did what she must to get it.

But maybe she could still be a little honest. 

“I don’t even know why I wanted one.” She wondered whether she wanted children at all, or merely resented that she had been given a body that was unalterably less than perfect. Or maybe there was another reason entirely. “Maybe I just wanted a legacy, something I could look back on and say that I made. A mark I could leave on the world.”

“You want to be remembered, don’t you?” Sunset continued, carefully stroking Adagio’s hair.

Remembered… that has a nice ring to it. I suppose I wouldn’t mind being remembered.

“I’ve spent so much time living in the shadows. I had a lover once, a man who wrote words that were so compelling they’re still read today, four hundred years after his death,” Adagio murmured. “Who would remember us, if we were to vanish?”

“I would.”

Surrendering completely to the intoxicating comfort of Sunset’s embrace, Adagio buried her face into the offered shoulder, quietly sobbing. 

“I understand,” Sunset said in a soothing tone. “And I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through all this. But someone like you? There's so much more to you than what you let other people see, isn't there? I know you can find a way to be remembered. And… Adagio? I know what you are, and I know what you’ve done. I am still willing to accept you, and I’m sure there are other people who would. There are people that you don't need to hide from. You just have to find them.” 

Though those words seeped into Adagio’s ears, she gave no response, preferring to simply curl up beside Sunset and weep. The feeling of contentment that she had unknowingly craved returned in full force, proving just as addicting as before. Perhaps there was still a faint ember of anger burning inside her, some faint voice reminding of her of what Sunset had done to her, but it was swept aside if it existed at all. She relished the closeness, greedily taking as much comfort as Sunset could offer.

Her sobs slowed and finally came to a halt, her tears following suit moments later. 

“I’ve never told anyone that before,” Adagio murmured, nestling into Sunset’s inviting warmth. She closed her eyes, a look of blissful calm on her face as she savored the closeness. “Just my sisters and you.”

With a calm, loving smile on her face, Sunset pulled Adagio closer, gently stroking her hair and holding her in as comfortable a manner as she could. “It feels better to let it out, doesn’t it?”

Adagio gave no response save for a content purr.

Not three weeks ago, she would have scowled at the mere thought of letting Sunset of all people get so close to her, but now that she had she found she didn’t want her to go.

And so they stayed there for a long while. Eventually, Adagio’s breathing slowed almost to a halt. Once or twice, her eyes slowly opened, but she quickly found that she was more than happy to keep them closed. The faint smell of sea salt wafted lazily through the air, working in tandem with the sounds of breaking waves to lull her into a state of restful calm.

She could no doubt have stayed there for quite some time, half-asleep in Sunset’s arms, but a gentle tap on her shoulder roused her from her repose.

“Sorry to disturb you, but…”

Adagio nodded slowly, reluctantly drawing back and covering her mouth as she yawned. “You need to be going,” she murmured, arching her back and stretching out her arms as she unfurled from her curled up position. “I understand.”

“Sorry. It’s getting late, and I’d like to be heading back home before too long.”

Glancing in the general direction of the sky, Adagio nodded silently. Her mouth opened, but at first she said nothing, closing it without a sound.

A thought occurred to her. Another way to repay Sunset, perhaps. Something to make up for her broken promise.

The words she wished to speak hovered just on the tip of her tongue, but something inside her kept her from uttering them.

What remained of her pride, perhaps. What a tragedy it was, that even after such an intimate encounter she couldn’t bring herself to ask for help.

No. I need this.

Sighing, she looked over at Sunset. “Before you go, there’s…” she trailed off, hoping she had made her point.

Sure enough, Sunset looked at her and nodded. “What is it?”

“Well… my sisters and I… we were thinking it might be good for us to take some time to ourselves. We’ve had a rough few weeks, and we think we could all use a chance to relax.” Her eyes closed, words carefully arranging in her head. “Aria’s thinking she might go camping for a few days. Sonata wants to stay at home. And so I…” Her voice lowered to a whisper, barely audible. “I need a place to stay.”

Sunset cocked her head, raising an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want to stay with me?”

Silently thanking Sunset, Adagio nodded. “Just for a few days. Sonata suggested I travel, but… I’m not sure I’m up for that right now.” Eying Sunset warily, she unconsciously shrank back. “You don’t have to say yes,” she added. “I’ll figure something else out if you don’t.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sunset said, chuckling awkwardly. “I mean, I don’t have a lot of room to spare, but I think I could squeeze you in. When were you-”

“Tonight.”

Sunset blanched, but recovered and shrugged. “Okay. Short notice, but I think I can make it work. Do you have any luggage you need to bring, or…”

“It’s all packed and waiting in my room.”

“Great. Why don’t we swing by on our way back and I’ll see what I can do to get you situated.”

“Good. I…” Adagio trailed off. Two words formed clearly in her mind, but though it pained her to realize it, she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Or say them and mean it, at least. A vestige of pride lingered inside her, rebuking her for thinking to lower herself so far as to admit that she was thankful, to imply that Sunset’s decision mattered when truly, her attention should have been all the thanks Sunset needed. Her heart raced, but she settled for a different approach. “I hope it’s not too much trouble for you,” she said, hating how empty the words sounded.

Sunset waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine,” she said, wearing a cheerful smile. “Might be kind of fun, actually.” 

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Adagio reached out to caress Sunset’s face and darted in to give her a quick peck on the cheek. 

Thank you, she thought as she pulled back and stood up, cracking a light smile when she saw how Sunset blushed. “Shall we be off, then?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sunset stared off into space momentarily until Adagio’s tapping foot brought her back to reality. “Sorry. Kinda spaced out for a second there.”

Raising an eyebrow, Adagio turned and walked away, not bothering to hide a satisfied smirk as she made her way back to her car.





“Like I said, it’s a little small, and it’s not nearly as nice as yours is.”

Adagio stood in Sunset’s bedroom, a book bag slung over one shoulder. She swept her eyes about the room, feigning curiosity as if she were seeing it for the first time. She saw the modest bed, exactly where it had been before. She saw the same table occupied by neat stacks of textbooks and school supplies. 

“It’ll do,” she said, setting her bag down in the corner. “I’ve stayed in worse before, believe it or not.”

Sunset chuckled lightly. “Anyway, make yourself at home. There’s some drinks and snacks and stuff in the kitchen if you want anything.”

“Maybe later,” Adagio murmured, pausing when her eyes drifted over a small shelf of trinkets and baubles standing in the corner. In particular, there was an ornate white wooden box, carved with intricate patterns and marked with an emblem of a pale yellow sun.

She walked over to it, delicately lifting it and running her hands over its smooth, polished surface. She cracked a faint smile when she saw the pattern of alternating black and white squares on the lid.

Seeing that the chessboard had caught Adagio’s eye, Sunset walked over. “Celestia gave it to me, back when I was her student. Princess, not principal,” she said, smiling fondly. “I thought about getting rid of it, back when I… but I guess even then I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Do you play?”

“I used to,” Adagio replied. “I imagine I’m a little rusty, though. Sonata was never very interested, if you can imagine that.”

She neglected to mention that her interest had sharply declined once Aria beat her. Strange how the purple one couldn't be bothered to ever tidy her room but put in hours of practice just to secure a few minutes of gloating. 

“You wanna give it a go?” Sunset took the box and sat down on the floor, setting it in front of her and motioning for Adagio to join her. “It’s been awhile for me too, but I think I remember the basics.”

Nodding, Adagio laid down on her side, propping her head up on one arm while Sunset set up the board.





Standing amidst a sea of black and white, two armies stood facing each other, shrouded in a deathly hush. They moved only with the utmost care and precision, conforming exactly to the machinations of their commanders and shedding not a single tear for their fallen comrades and slain enemies.

Slowly, the tides of battle shifted, gambits and ploys building on each other and forming a complex web of schemes and trickery. Some were abandoned when thwarted by a clever adversary, while others slipped past unsuspecting eyes to deliver decisive blows.

Such was the state of things, or how Adagio liked to imagine them.

Across from her, staring down at the board with keenly focused eyes, Sunset sat with her legs crossed and her chin resting on her palms. She saw only the board, eyes flitting about as she considered every possibility however remote. Though she would have appeared motionless to any observer, her mind remained intensely active, carefully plotting out her next move and the ones that would follow.

Or perhaps she was merely stalling, fully aware of the futility of it all.

Adagio, conversely, lay lazily sprawled out on the floor, idly examining her pristinely polished fingernails whilst Sunset thought. Occasionally, she deigned to spare the board a perfunctory glance, though she found that her eyes invariably wandered to Sunset's. 

She's actually rather adorable, when she's so intense like this. Adagio cracked a faint smile. Not as cute as Sonata, but really, who is?

If someone had told me three weeks ago that I'd end up lounging in her bedroom playing chess of all things...

Well, I might have slapped them.

But I suppose I might not mind spending a little more time with her. 

Oh, is it my turn already?

An expectant look told her that her turn had come at last. With a flippant motion amounting to a flick of her wrist, she all but flung a bishop across the board.

Sunset stared at her with the kind of look one might use when regarding one considered to be profoundly stupid.

Or, in this particular case, the kind of look a delusional idiot would use when addressing their obvious intellectual superior.

“Did you just-”

“I know full well what I did,” Adagio replied, with no small amount of smugness. “You may continue.”

Sunset frowned, looking quite unsure as to whether she should laugh or not. Her eyes scanned the board again, pouring over it with meticulous detail just to make sure there was nothing she had missed.

Adagio, naturally, didn’t bother.

Still looking skeptical, Sunset nudged a piece diagonally and adjusted the board accordingly. “Your move, I guess?” she said, her voice hesitant and wavering.

Smirking, Adagio reached out to the board, confident that her victory had come at last.

She froze.

There, where once had stood her proud, deadly, regal queen, there was a pawn.

It had no mouth, yet it mocked her. It had no eyes, yet it stared at her, silently daring her to contest the indomitable certainty of its most definite and most vexing position.

Covering her hand with her mouth, Adagio quickly sat upright, frowning and scanning the board while scolding herself for getting distracted. 

Oh dear. That’s… that’s rather troublesome, isn’t it?

Let’s see, how about-

She reached out, but quickly retracted.

No, no, no, that won’t work. Her rook... What about-

Maybe-

Perhaps-

What if-

She gave the board a good, long stare, absorbing every scrap of information she could until she arrived at what was no doubt the only possible explanation for the baffling occurrence she had just witnessed.

“You cheated.”

“Nope. Beat you fair and square.” Sunset smiled cheekily. "But the way you were playing? I really didn't need to. I don't know if you were rusty or just careless, but there were sooo many things you could've done better."

Muttering indignantly, Adagio swatted her king clear off the board and turned away, folding her arms and huffing. “Whatever,” she muttered. “I don’t why I even bother.”

“Adagio? Are you-”

“I'm remembering why I stopped playing this silly little game.” Ignoring Sunset’s attempts at comforts, Adagio dragged her bookbag over and sifted through it. “I meant to give you something,” she stated. “Might as well do it now before I forget.”

The fact that her sudden action gave her a convenient excuse to pretend that the preceding incident never happened went unmentioned.

Rooting through her bag, she finally took out a plain black book, still in near-pristine condition. Sharply extending her arm, she held it out to Sunset.

“What is it?” Sunset asked, accepting it and looking at it curiously.

“It’s my diary. Hundreds of years of memories.”

Sunset’s eyes snapped up to Adagio and she promptly offered her the book. “Adagio, I can’t- you don’t need to-”

“Nonsense. You’ve been very kind to me, Sunset. Such kindness should not go unrewarded.” Adagio pressed the book against Sunset’s chest. “Take it. I insist.”

“I’m glad to help you, Adagio. You giving me this chance is thanks enough.” Sunset looked down at the book, running her fingers over the cover. “And something like this… with a life like yours… this must mean so much to you. I don’t want you to-”

Adagio slipped her hand into her bag, pulled a similar but worn and battered book and held it up. “This is the original,” she said. “That’s a copy you’re holding. I've made several, just in case anything happened. It’s a few years behind, but you can fill in the blanks.”

Smirking at the surprise on Sunset’s face, Adagio tittered. “What? You didn’t think I’d just give you my diary, do you?” Scoffing, she clutched her book to her chest and stroked it lovingly. “The stories in here aren’t written anywhere else. I’d never part with any of them.” She cocked her head and frowned. “Although Aria might have some of them in her di- sorry, journal, but she knows that she’s got a better head for languages than I do and made sure to write hers in at least seven just to spite me."

“Wow. That’s, um… very thoughtful of you.” Sunset looked back at the book, blinked twice and then frowned. “Sorry, did you say seven languages?”

“It’s not that impressive,” Adagio scoffed. “I spoke four or five at one point, though I imagine I’m more than a bit rusty in most of them. Aria’s somehow stayed fluent in… twelve, I think? That's what she claims, though I wouldn't be surprised if she measured her fluency in vulgarities.” Noting Sunset’s surprise, Adagio rolled her eyes. “It’s almost like our livelihood depended on people understanding us, isn’t it? Had to cover all our bases. And we had a lot of spare time.”

“Huh. That makes perfect sense, actually.” Sunset opened up the book, flipped through a couple pages and nodded. “But if you have a copy anyway… I guess I wouldn’t mind knowing a little more about you.” She closed the book and smiled graciously. “Thanks. It means a lot to me that you’d do something like this.”

“You've been very kind to me, as I said,” Adagio replied. “It's the least I can do.”

“You really don't need to do that,” Sunset insisted.

"I know." Adagio smiled sweetly. "That's what makes me so nice."

Sunset rolled her eyes. “We’ll have to work on that,” she remarked, reaching over to set the book down on her nightstand. “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me about some of the highlights? I imagine they’d be more interesting with a personal touch.”

"The highlights, my dear, are the ones that made it in." Adagio caressed her diary and tittered. "There's far too much for one volume."

“Okay. I’ll make sure to read it soon, then.” Sunset paused, quirking her mouth and silently deliberating. An expectant look from Adagio prompted her to speak up. “While we're at it, though... I was thinking about something,” she said. “About what you told me earlier with the... you know.”

Immediately, Adagio tensed, only relaxing when she reminded herself that it was Sunset talking to her. 

It’s alright. You can be honest with her.

“Yes? What were you thinking?”

“I was just wondering... ” Sunset paused, waiting expectantly to make sure she had Adagio’s assent. Only when she got a nod of confirmation did she continue. “There are children out there without mothers. Did you ever-”

“It is one thing, Sunset, to sing a masterpiece of a song that someone else wrote. It is another thing entirely to feel the joy of having personally created something beautiful.” Adagio looked away, murmuring. “Perhaps one day I might try, but for the moment those two girls are the closest to daughters I’ve ever had.”

Sunset frowned again. “Is that what they are to you? I know you’ve always called them your sisters, but...”

Pausing, Adagio looked over her shoulder. “Friends, sisters, daughters... they’re just words. I love them just the same, no matter what I call them.” She looked away, lowering her head. “Though I wonder if things would have gone differently had I treated them less like children.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The first night we came here… we were alone. Frightened and confused. We could barely use our magic at all until we recovered, and even then we were but shadows of our former selves.” Adagio turned to face Sunset, relaxing her composure. “I thought that they needed someone to take care of them. Someone that they could rely on, someone that they knew they could go to for help if their pain was too much to bear... but they didn't have anyone like that. So I gave them one." Adagio trembled briefly. "But I couldn't be honest, even with them. I couldn't let them know that I was just as frightened as they were."

Sunset’s face showed that familiar tinge of worry that she had shown so often. “Adagio? Are you…”

“I’m fine,” Adagio said, running a finger to her cheek and relieved to find that her face was still dry. “It’s in the past. I’ve been trying to be more open with them, these last few days. And I'm going to spend a lot more time with them in the future. But right now, I think I'd like some time to myself, if you don’t mind.” Walking over to her bag, she reached in and selected one of the books she had brought. “There’s no reason for you to fuss over me the whole night.”

"Are you sure? I'm glad to-"

"Please, Sunset." I've already asked too much of you. "I've had a long day. I'd like to get some rest."

“Okay.” Sunset looked at her clock and nodded. “I’m gonna go get a few groceries and then I’ll see about fixing some dinner. I’ll be back soon if you need anything.” Picking up her jacket and sliding her arms through the sleeves, Sunset opened the door but looked once more at Adagio. “But if there’s anything else that you want to talk about, just let me know. You don’t have to be alone, Adagio. I’m here for you, if you want me.”

With that, she stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind her.

Standing up and moving back to the bedroom, Adagio carried her bag over to the bed, where she sat down, propped up her knees, and started reading. She kept her focus only partially on the book, keeping her ear keen and prepared to detect the sounds of Sunset's return.





The sound of Sunset’s motorcycle jolted Adagio to attention and made her gingerly stand, carefully setting her book down to the side and hurrying over to the door.

She cracked the door open slightly, putting her ear to the wood and listening intently. As soon as she heard the front door opening, she pulled back and nudged the door open, wide enough that Sunset would have little reservation but not so much that she couldn't hide behind it.

Breathing deeply, she turned to face the bed and paused, waiting until she heard footsteps coming up the stairs to strip off her shirt and wriggle out of her extremely tight pants.

She hadn’t even noticed, but her heart was already racing and she found herself fidgeting awkwardly.

Just relax. It’s nothing you haven’t done before. 

And Sunset was rather pretty, she supposed. Somewhat lacking in comparison, of course, but she’d be lying to say she wasn’t at least a little impressed by what she saw. That certainly made things easier on her part.

She likes me. She’s made no secret of that. I'm certain she’ll be interested.

If she had any doubts, she hadn’t the time to properly reflect on them. There she stood, nearly bare in a purposefully compromising position that she hoped Sunset wouldn’t resist.

As the footsteps grew closer, she steeled herself, flipping her hair over her shoulder and reaching behind her back to ensure that she appeared to be fumbling with her bra as Sunset entered.

A moment later, the door swung open. “Adagio? Do you-”

Sunset cut herself off with a gasp, quickly looking away and blushing. “Sorry!” she squeaked, backing away and stammering.

Adagio lowered her hands and looked over her shoulder at Sunset. “It’s alright,” she said in a low, calm voice with just a hint of sensual grace. “What did you need?”

“W-well, I was going to ask if you wanted anything for dinner, but…”

Turning to look at Sunset, Adagio rested a hand on her hip and glanced towards the bed. “It’s getting late,” she remarked, giving Sunset a knowing look. “I was planning on going to bed.”

“Ah. And that’s why you’re…” Sunset, still looking away, gestured vaguely in Adagio’s general direction. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” she blurted, spinning on her heel. “Good night!”

Adagio’s eyes narrowed.

You’re not turning me down so easily, Sunset. I’m not done with you yet.

“Actually, before you go…” Adagio darted forward, taking Sunset’s hand and holding her back.  “There was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Umm, I guess so, but I’d prefer if you-

“What do you think of me?”

Eyes widening, Sunset dared to look at Adagio, but quickly turned away when her gaze began to wander downwards. “You’re very beautiful, Adagio. Gorgeous, even.”

Adagio raised an eyebrow and smiled, stepping closer and making sure to put an extra sway into her gait. “I’m flattered, but that’s not what I meant.” She stepped closer and raised her hand to Sunset’s cheek, guiding her until their eyes, separated only by inches, met. “Do you like me?”

Frowning at first, Sunset shortly smiled, one of her hands creeping up to hold Adagio’s. “So far? There’s a lot of things I can admire about you. You’re beautiful and charming and intelligent and… caring, I think. When you want to be.”

“I see.” Adagio’s eyes fell, becoming downcast and troubled. “And is that all that you feel? Admiration?”

Sunset went quiet for a moment, but then lifted Adagio’s chin so their eyes met once more. “Is there something that you want to say to me, Adagio?”

“No,” Adagio murmured.

Truly, actions spoke louder than words.

Fitting, then, that neither of them could speak when Adagio pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss. 

Adagio relished Sunset’s sweet taste, but only briefly before Sunset, flinching at first, quickly broke away. “This is moving a little quickly, don't you-”

“Shh,” Adagio shushed, slithering her hand around Sunset’s waist and bringing them closer together. Her other hand caressed Sunset’s face, her eyes gleaming with intoxicating desire. “I want this,” she whispered, her voice low and breathy and warm on Sunset’s face.

“Adagio, I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know if I-” Sunset cut herself off, resting her hands on Adagio’s bare shoulders. Her touch excited Adagio even further. “Maybe we should-”

“One night,” Adagio whispered, pressing her chest against Sunset’s. “I want this. I want to know what it feels like to be loved. To be cherished, not just for my beauty and charm. I want to love someone and not be afraid to speak the truth to them.”

“And some of those things, I can give you,” Sunset replied, stroking Adagio’s skin with a soft, gentle touch. “But love? I don’t know if I love you. Like that, I mean.”

Adagio froze.

She remembered Sunset holding her by the beach as they sat and watched the sunset. 

But… I thought… why wouldn't she...

Adagio faltered, her eyes falling to the ground and her expression taking a melancholic turn. Hesitantly, she drew back, wrapping her arms around herself and suddenly feeling quite vulnerable. Recent events flashed through her eyes, and she wondered if she had made another mistake. She felt her face flush red, but a comforting smile from Sunset helped to calm her.

"Adagio? I didn't mean to-"

"Do you love me, Sunset?"

The pause that followed was nothing short of agonizing. Adagio looked at Sunset, pleading for an answer.

"I like you, Adagio. I enjoy talking to you, and I want to get to know you better. Whether that's love or not... I don't know if I feel that way about you. You're..." Sunset paused, clearing her throat and blushing. "Very beautiful. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. But..."

“Then try.” Adagio stepped forward, clinging to Sunset's shoulder. She breathed heavily, letting out a blissful sigh as she rested her head on Sunset's shoulder and took in her pleasantly rosy scent. “One night,” she repeated. “That’s all I want. And if it goes no further…” She trailed off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “Then I understand. But it would mean the world to me if you gave me this chance.”

With those final words, she reluctantly broke away from their embrace, sauntering over to the bed and sprawling out over the covers. She propped herself up on one hand and ran her other down to caress the swaths of smooth flesh her lack of attire brazenly presented. Though she tried her best to adorn her face with a sultry smile, she couldn't but feel as though her pleading eyes undermined her image.

“Walk away if you want to,” Adagio murmured. “But if you want me...”

Sunset hesitated, silently deliberating. Her eyes showed a blend of desire and pity.

Finally, she lowered her head and turned around. She paused again, breathing deeply and then flicking the light switch. The room went dark, only to be dimly lit by a night light by the bed a moment later.

Adagio purred, eagerly sitting up as Sunset sat down on the bed beside her.

“I, um… I’ve never- not with a-”

Silencing Sunset with another kiss, Adagio reached behind her back and swiftly unclasped her bra. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, pushing Sunset onto her back and laying on top of her, straddling her with her naked thighs. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“I don’t know what to-”

“Shh.” Adagio shushed again, pressing her finger to Sunset’s lip and then dragging it down her chest, smiling appreciatively. “Relax and enjoy yourself. Tonight is all about you.”

Slipping the straps of her bra off her shoulders, Adagio flung the garment to the side where it lay discarded and forgotten, a wordless gesture that promised a long night of decadent pleasure. She arched her back and purred softly, reveling in the undivided attention her actions earned her.

The night that followed was indeed long and full of passion. Silent for a few moments save for the rustling of fabric, the room was shortly filled by gasps and moans.























Sunset Shimmer awoke, a smile still on her face as she basked in a lingering afterglow. Sighing and content, she stretched herself out and yawned before snuggling back into her blankets. A moment later, she felt one of her arms reaching out, feeling for another body that she somehow knew to look for but never found.

Puzzled at first, she sat up and, upon noticing the haphazard state of the sheets and the clothes strewn across the room, frowned.

The memory came flooding back, prompting her to leap out of bed. To her dismay, Adagio was nowhere to be found, although she did spy the diary resting on her nightstand, with a pile of loose papers and a lavender envelope tucked into the cover. Sunset pulled them out and sifted through them.

Firstly, there was a picture. A picture of Adagio garbed in a flowing lavender gown and appearing to be the very image of elegance. She stood in a dainty, even demure posture, wearing an alluring but aloof smile partially masked by flowing orange and yellow tresses. It would have been a lie to say that she looked anything less than stunning, but in Sunset’s eyes Adagio had always been stunning, no matter how much or even how little she decorated herself.

There was a signature in the corner, Adagio’s name followed by the words Something to remember me by and a very carefully drawn heart.

There were a few other pictures, no doubt showing more of the same, but the envelope quickly drew Sunset’s attention. The moment she held it up, she noted that it carried the exact same pleasant strawberry scent that she had enjoyed the last night. Furthermore, Adagio’s name was written on the front in a sweeping, flowery script.

She tore it open, pulling out a folded letter written in gleaming golden ink on lavender paper. It was smudged in a few places, slightly damp, and it occasionally faltered as if penned by an unsteady hand.

Good morning, Sunset.

I hope you had a good time last night. I know I did.

And I’m sorry. I meant what I said about wanting to repay you. I thought a book wasn’t enough, so I gave you what so many others have wanted. I’m sorry that I couldn't be honest. I tried. Really, I did. But I couldn't. I think a part of me knew that you wouldn’t accept my gift if I told you why I was giving it. I hope you understand why I had to do what I did.

There’s something I’d like to say to you. I don’t think I can bring myself to say it aloud, not to you, but I want you to hear it one way or another: Thank you. I know I've told some lies, but even if you can believe only one thing I say and nothing more, believe that I am immeasurably grateful for what you did. Whether you know it or not, you stopped me from making a decision that I now know I would have regretted for a very long time.

This isn’t goodbye. Not as I see it. I would very much like to see you again, but I don’t think this is the time. After all that’s happened, I think I need some time to myself. There are some things that I need to think about, and I don't think my sisters are ready to forgive you yet.

Now, as for what we said to each other last night…

I'm sorry.

Love is a fickle thing. There are only a few people I've ever met that I can say that I loved. I don't think you're one of them. Not right now. But I have little doubt that you could be, one day. I think I'd like to call you a friend, if not something more. I haven't had many friends before.

But who knows? Maybe I’ll find another one before we meet again. 

But if we are to find solace in the company of others and the bonds we share, we shall do it in our own way, with whomever we and we alone choose to include. Your friends, whether they intended to or not, stripped me of one of the things I valued most. For your sake, I will leave them in peace, but I don't know if I will ever forgive them. You might think me cruel for living the life I did, but it is the only one that I have ever known and I do not regret living it.

I will think about the things that you said to me. There are still things I don’t understand about you, but maybe one day I will know why you were so kind to me. Whatever your reasons, I am immensely grateful.

I hope we meet again, one day when the time is right.

May the tides carry you to calm waters.