Recruited by Abacus Cinch as her own magical ringers, The Sirens become Crystal Prep's newest Shadowbolts. But when deadlines loom and tensions mount amongst the three girls, Adagio Dazzle is forced to turn to an unlikely ally for help.
Still reeling from their defeat at the Battle of the Bands, Adagio Dazzle, Sonata Dusk, and Aria Blaze are recruited by Abacus Cinch as her own magical ringers to use against Canterlot High in exchange for a chance to reclaim their lost magic.
But life at Crystal Prep isn't all sunshine and rainbows for the three newest Shadowbolts. Faced with looming deadlines, hostile classmates, and a crumbling partnership with her fellow Sirens, Adagio finds solace with a most unexpected ally.
But when Equestrian magic is on the line, will she follow her heart? Or will her she learn that old habits die hard?
Sirens don't make friends, after all, and they certainly don't fall in love.
The Friendship Games had been an unmitigated disaster. The Shadowbolts, her own students, had turned against her, forced her to concede to a mutual victory with their rivals, the students of Canterlot High. The reputation of the Crystal Prep – herreputation – teetered precariously on the edge of disaster, and to top it all off Celestia had even managed to steal her prized pupil, Twilight Sparkle, away from her.
So she’d pushed the girl to use the magic she’d stored, the result of which had nearly caused a monumental disaster. She could hardly be blamed for such foolishness. Shadowbolts were disciplined. Shadowbolts were strong. Twilight Sparkle failed to meet the criteria. No, of greater importance than the loss of one (admittedly gifted) student were the implications the games had wrought.
“Magic.”
She still scarcely believed it. The students of Canterlot High had magic. And Crystal Prep did not.
She wouldn’t allow it; she couldn’t! Crystal Prep was superior to that wretched public school in every way. Their curriculum, their funding, and their college acceptance rate, all the highest in the country. But this magic threatened to ruin everything! But Abacus Cinch was no quitter, she had a reputation to uphold, after all. Reports of the goings on at Canterlot High weren’t difficult to get a hold of, with all the photos and status updates today’s youth posted online, she could have compiled a complete dossier on any student in the world!
Or, in this case, any three students.
She examined the papers laid out on the desk before her. They’d covered their tracks well, but they must have known that people didn’t merely appear out of thin air—not in this world, anyway. There was always a trail, if you knew where to look for it, and Abacus Cinch always knew where to look.
She raised her eyes and adjusted her glasses, taking careful stock of her guests. She wasn’t impressed. Torn sleeves, obnoxious accessories… their outfits were an affront to her senses. On any ordinary day Abacus Cinch wouldn’t have given the trio a second glance before having security escort them unceremoniously to the curb. Her fingers drifted together forming the shape of a pyramid. Today was no ordinary day.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here.” Cinch probed. The purple haired one sulked, arms crossed and staring impassively at the wall. It ignited a cold fury within the principal, who was not used to such blatant insolence. Meanwhile, the girl with the blue hair gazed blankly into space. Cinch doubted she could do much with her, education could only shine when paired with intelligence and it was clear that this girl had a severe deficiency on both accounts. No, it was only the one that sat between them, the one with torrents of orange hair and a calculating look to her that held any interest to Abacus Cinch. The only one who would look her in the eye.
“It crossed our minds,” said the orange haired girl. Her voice, Cinch noted, seemed to draw the other girls into the conversation, as they nodded in agreement. “But we’re more interested in knowing how exactly you found us.”
Abacus Cinch allowed herself a small smile. “Information is, perhaps, this world’s greatest resource, and I think you will find that I am a very resourceful woman.” The girl’s eyes narrowed, clearly unsatisfied with her answer. Abacus continued unabashed. “I know of your encounter with the so called Rainbooms. I know that after they bested you, the three of you turned tail and ran. I also know that you’re two months past due on your rent, and as we speak your landlord is affixing an eviction notice to your door.” The girl’s teeth barred, her shoulders hunched, and her fists clenched into tight balls. She’d hit a nerve.
“We’re listening,” she growled. The principal’s grin widened.
“I’m sure you’ve found that without the proper influence, this world can be a harsh, unforgiving place. You’re lucky that I’m giving your girls the time of day, let alone inviting you to speak with me in my office.”
“It’s not luck. You need something, something you can only get from us.”
Cinch nodded approvingly. “Precisely. And do you know what that something is?” Abacus leaned in, her glasses sliding down to the tip of her nose as she examined the girls before her.
“Magic.”
“But we don’t have any magic!” Blurted the blue haired girl. The others turned on her like a pack of starving wolves, and for a moment Abacus thought they might tear her to shreds in her very office. She found the idea rather amusing.
“Do not insult my intelligence,” said Abacus sternly. “As I said, I know of your time at Canterlot High School, and I know that in that final confrontation with the Rainbooms your magic was lost. A pity.”
The orange haired girl eyed her suspiciously. “So if you know all this already, why are we here?” The predatory part of Abacus’s mind came alive, and she eyed the girls hungrily. She had them now.
“You are here because I believe that we can help each other.” When the girl didn’t respond, she continued. “You seek the return of your magic, and revenge against those that have wronged you. I want nothing more than to level the playing field with Canterlot High, so when next we compete they won’t be able to rely on their magic to claim victory.”
“But we don’t have our magic, not anymore,” growled the girl. “And if we did, what makes you think we’d waste it helping you?”
“Straight to the point, then. A student at my school—a former student, rather—designed a piece of technology able to contain this magic. As she used Crystal Prep resources to research and develop the object in particular, and due to the bylaws she signed in order to have access to those resources, Crystal Prep retains the rights to any and all of that research.”
The orange haired girl’s eyes were wide, staring at Abacus in shock and disbelief. Even the purple haired girl was paying attention now, her expression one of barely contained need.
“I don’t get it,” said the blue haired girl.
“You’re so stupid,” quipped the purple hair girl. “She might have a way to give us back our magic!” Both girls looked at Abacus in awe, but their leader remained unconvinced.
“Then why not use it yourself? If you have the magic, what do you need us for?” Abacus liked this one. Unlike the others, she might even be Crystal Prep materiel.
“Control over the magic we captured proved… difficult. You three have proven yourself adept at manipulating magic to meet your needs, and it is that control that I require of you.” Abacus sighed. “Additionally, and most unfortunately, the device was destroyed.
“This is my offer, listen closely for I will not give it twice, nor will I bargain with you. This is not a negotiation. I will give you access to the research on the tracking and containment of magic. In addition, I will provide you with the resources to pursue this research and access to the greatest minds of your generation. You will become students my school, live within the dormitories without cost, and you will assist me in reclaiming the legacy that has been stolen from me.
“In return, you will follow my every instruction without question. You will conform to the standards I set for all my students, and if you are able to reclaim your lost magic, you will stand by my side as, together, we crush Canterlot High School.” With one finger, Abacus Cinch pushed her glasses back up her nose into their proper position. “So, do we have a deal?”
The three girls looked at each other, but Abacus didn’t need to see the look of hunger on their faces to confirm what she already knew. “We accept,” said the orange haired girl, accompanied by nods from her compatriots.
“Excellent. I shall have the paperwork drafted immediately. Aria Blaze, Sonata Dusk, and Adagio Dazzle, congratulations. You are Crystal Prep Academy’s newest Shadowbolts.”
“Thank you, Principal Cinch,” said Adagio, wearing a look of gleeful malice that spread first to Sonata, then Aria, and finally to the principal herself. “We won’t let you down.”
Walking through the rotunda of Crystal Prep Academy amid a tour of the campus, Adagio Dazzle couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of déjà vu.
The meeting with Abacus Cinch had gone better than she could ever have imagined, and for the first time since The Rainbooms had stripped her and her fellow Sirens of their magic, Adagio finally felt like she was regaining some semblance of control over her life.
And yet she still felt uneasy. The lingering panic that had first manifested when she’d had to face the reality of a magicless existence had compounded into an omnipresent knot in her stomach. She’d lost her appetite – if she’d ever had such a thing for human food – and had spent many a restless night wondering what would become of herself and the other Sirens. And, though the knot had loosened somewhat since their sudden turn of fortune, to Adagio’s great annoyance it had yet to go away completely.
Seeking to distract herself from her own dreary thoughts, Adagio took stock of her surroundings. Despite her best efforts to remain aloof, she couldn’t help but be somewhat impressed by the architecture of the school. Between the high ceilings, towering crystal pillars, and plethora of trophies and plaques, one could easily have mistaken the school for a palace. Nothing at all like Canterot High, she mused. But for all its lustre, Adagio couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.
“Where are all the students?”
Adagio turned around at the sound of Sonata’s voice. The other Siren wore a painfully familiar expression of bewilderment, and was glancing about the atrium as if she expected a herd of students to pop out of hiding at any moment. Lagging even further behind them was Aria, who was taking a break from admiring her reflection in one of the crystal pillars to shoot Sonata a look of utter disdain.
“Crystal Prep doesn’t have classes on weekends,” said their guide. She was a well dressed woman with hair of equal parts pink, purple, and yellow, who had introduced herself as Dean Cadance. “Honestly, is that rumor still going around? I remember hearing it when I was a student here!” She must have caught Adagio’s smirk, as she blushed, adding “mind you, it wasn’t all that long ago.”
“Right,” said Sonata, “I knew that!”
Aria rolled her eyes. “You don’t know anything, Sonata.”
Adagio’s eye twitched.
“Do to!”
“Do not!”
“Well, at least I wasn’t ogling my new uniform in front of a dumb pillar!”
“You’re just jealous that it looks better on me.”
“I—”
“Girls–” Adagio growled, clapping a hand on each of their shoulders with enough force to make them wince “–that’s enough!” Aria huffed, shrugging off Adagio’s hand and stomping away from Sonata, who stuck her tongue out at her the moment she wasn’t looking.
Adagio sighed and took a moment to compose herself. Aria and Sonata’s presence had always been grating on her nerves, but lately she’d had even less patience for their shenanigans. Aria had seemingly taken this as an opportunity to question her leadership more than ever, and Sonata…
Well, getting blasted with a beam of celestial light certainly hadn’t made her smarter.
“Sorry about that, it must be their nerves getting to them.” Or their stupidity. “We’re all just so excited to have this opportunity!”
“It’s alright, I’m sure Principal Cinch would call it a ‘healthy spirit of competition!’” Adagio noted that, despite her enthusiasm, Cadance’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ahem. Moving on, that just about does it for the tour, do you girls have any questions?”
“Where are we, you know, staying?”
Adagio bit her tongue. Leave it to Sonata to make any question, even legitimate ones, sound idiotic.
“Good question, er—Sonata, was it?” Sonata nodded cheerfully, and Cadance continued. “Yes, Principal Cinch informed me that you girls would be staying in our dormitories. We don’t usually get new transfers this late in the semester, so we’re scrambling a little to make room, but it should all be sorted out by this evening by the time you’ve finished the placement tests.”
Tests?
“Tests?” asked Sonata. Adagio shuddered, the idea that she’d shared the same thought as the imbecile made her feel just a little bit sick.
“Didn’t Principal Cinch tell you?” Cadance looked at the girls’ downcast expressions and sighed. “Of course not. Normally students who wish to attend Crystal Prep must first complete a pair of entrance exams, to make sure they’re Crystal Prep material. But, since you girls have already been accepted, think of them more like placement tests. We just want to see how far along you are in your education.”
Sonata’s shoulders slumped and she let out a long groan. “I hate tests,” she whined.
“You know what I hate?” Adagio shot Aria a scathing look. She’d had enough of the incessant fighting and was going to nip this argument in the bud. She took a step back – out of Cadance’s field of view – and locked eyes with Aria, slashing her finger violently across her throat.
Aria got the message.
“Tests,” she said, stiffly. “I also hate tests.” She glared hatefully at Adagio, who countered with a coy smile. Sonata remained oblivious.
There was nothing quite like putting Aria in her place. It was a warm, tingly feeling, and Adagio imagined that she felt the knot loosen just a bit.
“Cheer up,” said Cadance, “it’s just a few pages of multiple choice, then a short obstacle course to make sure you girls are up to our fitness standards.”
Sonata perked up a little. “Oh, well I guess it doesn’t sound that bad.”
“I was wrong, it’s that bad!”
For the second time that day, Adagio couldn’t help but agree with Sonata. When her own exam booklet was slapped down unceremoniously before her, Adagio could have sworn it shook not only her desk, but the entire examination room.
“This is your definition of a few pages? This is practically a novel!”
Cadance looked sheepishly over Adagio’s shoulder, refusing to meet her gaze, and cleared her throat. “Thank you for your help, Sugarcoat.”
The white-haired girl stared back at her blankly. “I’m not helping. I have to be here on account of my ‘insubordination’ at the Friendship Games.”
“Right,” said Cadance, rubbing her eyes. Adagio cocked an eyebrow. All of the sudden, Cadance looked like she was nursing a migraine. After taking a moment to compose herself, she continued. “I’ll talk Principal Cinch. You girls shouldn’t be punished for—” Cadance caught Adagio’s eye cut herself off. “Er, we can discuss that later. If you’ll excuse me, I have to head over to the dorms to make sure everything is on schedule. Sugarcoat will oversee the written exam, and another student will be waiting for you in the gym to oversee the obstacle course. Good luck, girls, and do your best!”
The classroom door clicked closed behind Cadance, leaving the room once more in an uncomfortable silence. It dragged on for several long moments, before the white-haired girl thankfully spoke up.
“Welcome to the Crystal Prep Academy Entrance Exam, my name is Sugarcoat and I will be your exam coordinator. The following is a comprehensive list of rules and regulations you will be expected to follow before, during, and immediately after the exam.”
“Number one, only the use of No. 2 or HB wooden pencils are permitted in the examination room. Mechanical pencils and pencils of other grades are not permitted. Number two…”
Adagio felt her mind drifting. What was the point of all of this? Clearly Abacus Cinch wasn’t afraid of breaking rules—she’d made that abundantly clear in their meeting—so why not skip the test and let them get right to work getting their magic back? It wasn’t as if she could afford to kick them out if they got a bad grade on a stupid test.
Right?
“…and finally, any and all water bottles must be made of clear plastic, and be no larger than 800 mL, or 27.05 oz. Any questions?”
Sonata raised her hand. “Are you a robot?”
“That’s a stupid question.”
Adagio covered her mouth and turned away to hide her own snickering, only to notice Aria doing the same. Their eyes met, and Aria quickly looked away and resumed her usual bored expression.
Adagio rolled her eyes. Get over yourself.
“You have sixty minutes to complete the examination, at which point you will set your pencils down on the desks in front of you and I will collect your answer booklets.” She held up a stopwatch. “You may begin on my mark.”
Sonata tilted her head. “Who’s Mar-”
“Begin.”
Adagio rested her head in the palm of her right hand, and lazily flipped open the cover of her exam with the other. A sea of small, black font greeted her. The header of the page read Reading Comprehension, and she deduced that she was supposed to read a passage and answer a series of questions.
Child’s play.
She read the first paragraph, and was moving on to the second when she paused. I didn’t retain any of that. She started again, and once more she found that, though she’d read the words, her brain refused to process them.
Whatever, she thought, I’ll come back to it. She began flipping through the booklet. Math? Pass. History? As if anyone cares about what happened a hundred years ago on this magicless rock. What’s next…
With each page she skipped the knot in her stomach grew tighter, and she was becoming distinctly aware of the inexorable ticking of the stopwatch.
The Sirens waited outside the Crystal Prep Academy’s Athletic Building for Cadance to come and retrieve them. Adagio sat on a stone step, her head resting in her hands and her elbows planted on her knees, staring at the ground. Her body ached, but not nearly as much as her pride.
The test had been a disaster, and the physical examination hadn’t gone any better. After they handed in their exam booklets (which, in Adagio’s case, had been woefully incomplete) they had made their way to Crystal Prep’s gymnasium, where they were introduced to the next in their line of tormentors, Indigo Zap.
Zap was loud, abrasive, and had driven them through an obstacle course straight from the depths of Tartarus. Among the tortures that had been inflicted upon them had been push-ups, rope climbing, archery, and to top it all off, they had been forced to run an entire mile, all the while being jeered on by Zap, who took no small pleasure in telling them how their times were among the worst in Crystal Prep history.
All except for Aria’s, anyway. While Adagio and Sonata had fought to keep up, Aria had blazed ahead of them, leaving the other two Sirens in her dust. She had beaten them so badly that when Adagio was finishing her final lap around the gymnasium, Aria was already exiting the changing room.
Adagio glanced up at Aria, who was leaning against the building’s brick wall with her arms crossed. She wasn’t jealous. Any brute could run in a circle or climb a stupid rope. None of that mattered in the real world.
Her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t jealous.
Aria must have felt her gaze, because she turned towards Adagio, her lips curling into an arrogant smirk. It made Adagio’s blood boil. She shot to her feet, intent on giving Aria a piece of her mind, but her legs protested to the sudden movement and she had to take a step forward to keep herself from falling.
Aria laughed. “Need some help, Adagio?”
Adagio’s cheeks flushed and her hands balled into fists. She took another step forward, preparing to tear into Aria, when her foot collided with something squishy.
“Oww…”
Sprawled out on the concrete before her was the prone form of Sonata, her arms askew and her face contorted in pain. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave Adagio a pleading look.
“’Dagi,” she groaned. “I think I’m dying.”
Adagio sighed. “I should be so lucky.” She jabbed the toe of her shoe into Sonata’s side, eliciting another pained groan. “Now get up, you look pathetic.”
Aria snorted. “You’re one to talk.”
Bringing her attention back to Aria, Adagio discovered that she no longer felt the immediate urge to strangle her. No, that’s what Aria wanted: a reaction. Something to show that she’d really gotten to her, and Adagio had nearly fallen for it.
Nearly.
Instead, she looked expectantly at Aria, putting on her best bored expression. “Are you done?”
“I—what are you doing?”
Adagio immediately located the source of Aria’s distress: no longer content with her position on the ground (or, perhaps, fearing another kick), Sonata was clinging pitifully to Aria’s legs.
“Ugh, let go of me, you idiot!”
“You’re the idiot!” replied Sonata, stubbornly holding tight despite Aria’s protests. The way she was hanging off her, she almost looked like a sloth.
Clingy, slow… definitely a sloth.
“Yeah,” said Adagio, a sardonic grin spreading across her face, “you’re done.” There was that feeling again.
She watched in amusement as blood rushed to Aria’s cheeks, and she grew more and more flustered while trying to dislodge Sonata.
“You’re the worst!”
“No, you are!”
“Am I interrupting something?”
The three girls turned to see Dean Cadance, her expression a mixture of confusion and mild amusement. Aria, seizing the moment, shook Sonata free of her leg, who fell to the ground with an audible thump.
“I’m okay,” said Sonata, standing up and brushing herself off.
Aria’s eye twitched. “Now you can stand up?”
Sonata responded with a toothy smile.
“You’ll have to excuse them,” said Adagio, “they’re still a little on edge after the exams.”
“Am not,” muttered Aria.
Cadance gave them an empathic smile. “Oh, don’t worry, you all seem like bright girls” – her eyes lingered on Sonata – “…for the most part. I’m sure you all did wonderfully.”
Sonata beamed. “I filled out all the bubbles!”
Cadance’s brow furrowed, but she managed to rebound after only a momentary lapse in her enthusiasm. “That’s… great! And in other great news, the dorm situation has been resolved. It took some shifting around but, well, they don’t call me Dean for nothing!”
She was met with three blank stares.
“Tough crowd. Anyway, if you girls will follow me, I’ll lead you to your new rooms! I’m sure you’re all tired after the obstacle course—”
Aria snickered. “Some of us more than others.”
“—so we’ll try to get you settled in nice and quick.”
The remainder of the walk to the Crystal Prep Dormitories was relatively uneventful. Adagio did her best to ignore Aria’s snark and Sonata’s idiocy, while simultaneously smile and nod at Cadance’s forced small talk. It wasn’t easy, but she had plenty of practice.
“Wow,” said Sonata as they approached the entryway. “Another building! How many does this school have? Canterlot High only had one!”
Cadance stopped abruptly. Adagio, who had been following close behind, barely avoided bumping into her.
“One last thing before we go inside,” said Cadance. “You might want to avoid mentioning that you used to be students at CHS. Don’t get me wrong – it’s a great school – but the students here tend to see them as our rivals, and a recent sporting event ended, well… let’s just say not to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“So you lost?” asked Aria.
“No,” said Cadance, “it was a tie.”
“Doesn’t that mean everyone wins?” posed Sonata.
“That’s a good way of looking at it,” replied Cadance, earnestly, followed by a long sigh. “But that’s not how the students – or most of the faculty – see it. I’m sure they’ll be over it soon enough, but in the mean time, if anyone asks about your old school… just be vague. Or make something up.”
Adagio scowled. “Believe me, we weren’t going to brag about it.”
“Yeah,” said Sonata, “especially not after the Battle of the Bands where we—” Sonata’s words were cut off by Aria’s hand covering her mouth. Adagio quickly interposed herself between Cadance and her fellow Sirens.
“—where we gave a heartfelt goodbye to all out CHS friends!” she said, her voice dripping with fake cheer. “It’s still a fresh wound, we’re really broken up about it”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m sure you girls will make plenty of new friends here at Crystal Prep.”
“Eww, Sonata, stop licking my hand!”
Adagio’s eye twitched. “New friends, can’t wait!”
Cadance lead them inside the dormitory and up several flights of stairs to the third floor. Adagio’s legs burned with every step, and she could feel Aria’s eyes on her, waiting for her to falter, but to her immense relief she managed to make it without any more embarrassing blunders. From there, they were brought into a long corridor with doors evenly spaced on either side, each emblazoned with a room number (odds on the left, evens on the right) and a small whiteboard. The whiteboards were inscribed with what Adagio could only assume were the names of the room’s occupants, written in a variety of colors and surrounded by small doodles.
“The bathrooms can be found at the end of the hall, and I’ll warn you now that the line for the showers can get pretty long, so make sure you get up nice and early.” Cadance continued down the hall, before eventually stopping in front of a door with a blank whiteboard. “Here we are, room 309. Aria and Sonata, you two will be staying in this room, and Adagio you’ll be staying across the hall in 308.”
Wait, what?
Adagio’s brow furrowed, and she shared an uncertain look with Aria and Sonata.
“Sorry, girls,” said Cadance empathically. “The dorms have two beds each. I did what I could to make sure that I could keep at least two of you together, and I even managed to get you rooms across from each other. You know, so you’re not too far from your friends.”
Friends. That was the word the people of this world often used to describe the three girls, but it had never quite clicked with Adagio. They weren’t family, though she’d known the others for her entire life they shared no blood relation, and they couldn’t exactly tell everyone they were Sirens from another dimension, but friends? Friends were people you liked, people you spent time with because you wanted to. Adagio didn’t have any friends, not in the traditional sense. In Equestria, the Sirens had combined their powers in order to better feed on the turmoil they wrought across the land. In this world, the trio had been forced to work together to survive their exile. It was strange, after so long, to imagine being separated from them.
Adagio shook her head. Get a hold of yourself, she thought, they’ll just be across the hall. And besides, how great will it be not to have to put up with Sonata’s snoring?
“You’ll find some dry-erase markers in your rooms so you can decorate your whiteboards. Be creative, but don’t write – or draw – anything obscene on your own or anyone else’s board. We had some… issues, in the past, which is why you’ll find cameras in the hall. But I’m sure I don’t have to worry about that from you girls.”
“Now,” said Cadance, reaching into her purse and producing three keys. “These are the keys to your dorm rooms. They’ve got a sticker with your room number on them, so make sure you take it off once you’ve memorized the number. The doors lock automatically, so if you accidentally lock your key inside your room and your roommate isn’t around, or if you lose it, you can get a new one from the Dormitory Manager’s office on the first floor. You’ll have to have your Student ID on you –” she paused “—which you can pick up in my office tomorrow. I knew I was forgetting something… Do you girls have any more questions?”
The Sirens shook their heads.
“Well, if you think of any, my door is always open. I’ll let you girls get settled in,” she turned to focus on Adagio, “and I’ll let you get acquainted with your new roommate. Your things will be waiting for you inside. Good night, girls!”
With Cadance gone, the three Sirens lingered in the hallway. Sonata looked worried, glancing between Adagio and Aria, waiting for one of them to say something. Aria’s expression was unreadable.
“Well,” said Aria, breaking the silence, “I guess we should go. ‘Night, Adagio.”
“Goodnight, ‘Dagi.”
“Goodnight, girls.”
Adagio placed the key into the lock of her new room, sparing a glance over her shoulder as Aria and Sonata did the same. Was it just her, or did the corridor seem a lot wider than it had a few minutes ago?
Pushing the thought from her mind, and ignoring the stupid knot in her stomach, Adagio took a moment to examine the whiteboard. The top half was blank, presumably saved for her, but on the bottom, written in neatly printed letters, was, to Adagio’s surprise, a familiar name.
Sugarcoat.
Oh great, I’m sharing a room with Sonata’s robot.
She turned the key and pushed open the door, revealing a small but comfortable room. It was furnished with a pair of writing desks, each with a comfortable looking chair, a pair of nearly identical dressers, one with some personal effects on top of it that Adagio assumed belonged to Sugarcoat, a wastepaper basket, a floor length mirror, a window with a thin purple curtain, and a set of bunk beds, the bottom of which was currently occupied.
Sugarcoat was sitting upright in her bed, her back against the headboard and her legs nestled beneath the purple comforter. She wasn’t wearing her Crystal Prep uniform, which, Adagio noticed, was folded neatly at the foot of her bed, and was, instead, wearing a modest pair of white pajamas decorated with a pale blue lattice pattern and trimmed with delicate looking lace. She peered up at Adagio from behind her orange framed glasses and blinked, acknowledging her presence, before returning her attention to a thick textbook.
What a warm welcome.
Adagio nodded to Sugarcoat (who was either too engrossed in her book to notice or, perhaps more likely, simply didn’t care) and without a word climbed the ladder to the top bunk. There she found her backpack containing her old clothes and what remained of her worldly possessions, as well as an unfamiliar package. Attached to the package was a note with equally unfamiliar handwriting.
Adagio,
I know moving to a new school can be tough, especially a school like Crystal Prep. The students here are all working hard to ensure they get the most out of the education we’re providing them, which might make them seem a little distant at first, but I’m sure it won’t be long before you’ve made a ton of new friends.
Sometimes it might feel like you’re being pushed too hard or that everything is too overwhelming. Studying is important, but these are the best years of your life, don’t forget to put down the books and live them every now and then!
Don’t tell Principal Cinch I wrote that. Actually, she would probably think that leaving personal notes to students would ‘sully her reputation’ so do me a favor and tear this up after you’ve read it, okay?
And remember, if you need anything, you can find my office in the main building in room 1002. Don’t be a stranger!
Have a wonderful first day at your new school,
Dean Cadance
P.S. I don’t know if you girls have lived in dorms before, so enclosed is a shower package. It has a towel, shampoo, conditioner, a pair of shower slippers, and some other essentials. Wear the slippers, you REALLY don’t want to walk barefoot in a public shower.
P.P.S. Seriously. Athlete’s foot is not a joke.
Well. That was… surprisingly nice. And generous. But mostly sappy (and a little pathetic). Adagio made a mental note to stay in Cadance’s good graces, having an authority figure on her side who wasn’t trying to manipulate her for her magic certainly seemed appealing. But for now…
Adagio yawned, placing the package at the foot of her bed, and began rooting through her backpack. She retrieved a long t-shirt and, not having noticed anywhere better to change, went about the laborious process of changing clothes atop the bunkbed. It would have been trivial if not for her aching muscles, but after a minute of fumbling about, Adagio’s uniform sat in a similar (but somewhat less organized) pile to Sugarcoat’s below.
Tossing her bag to one side, Adagio lay back on her bed, only to jerk back up as something sharp dug into her back. She patted the bed with her hand until she found the troublesome object, and held it up to the light to examine.
It was a shard of crystal. Dull, red, and jagged, it was a small fragment of one of the pendants that had given the Sirens their power. She turned it over in her fingers. It must have fallen out of my bag while I was changing, she thought, I’ll have to be more careful. It held none of the lustre (or the magic) that it once did, but Adagio never had the heart to get rid of it. The others had left their own pendants broken and discarded on the stage of the Battle of the Bands, but not her. Maybe, somewhere in the back of her mind, she still hoped it could be repaired.
She sighed. Retrieving her backpack now was more effort than she was willing to expend, so instead she deposited the crystal fragment carefully beneath her pillow and lay down.
It was strange. Adagio couldn’t remember the last time she had slept in a room without her fellow Sirens. It almost felt… lonely.
Don’t be stupid, Adagio, she thought, chastising herself. The girls were right across the hall. Besides, she finally had some peace and quiet, away from the constant bickering and complaining. It wasn’t as if she was going to miss Sonata’s obnoxious snoring.
But, staring up at the blank, white ceiling of her new dorm room, some small part of her did.
When Adagio awoke the next morning, Sugarcoat was already gone.
Wrapped as she was in warm, comfortable sheets, and soothed by the soft, calming patter of raindrops on her window, she allowed herself a rare moment of tranquility.
A fleeting moment, as it turned out, that was promptly ruined by a loud knock at the door. Adagio jammed her eyes shut, hoping that whoever it was would move on so she could get a few more minutes of peace. But it was not to be; Adagio heard a second knock and resigned herself to the suffering that was the waking world.
And suffering it was. Every muscle in her body cried out in a symphony of pain as she forced herself to sit up. She tucked her uniform under her arm, along with the package Cadance had left her, and with great reluctance began the climb from the top bunk to the floor below.
It hurt every bit as much as she feared.
With her feet now firmly planted upon the floor, Adagio rubbed the sleep from her eyes and spared a glance at the mirror affixed to the wall. Staring back at her was a thin, grumpy looking girl wearing a ratty t-shirt that was a few sizes too large, and surrounded on all sized by cascades of poofy orange hair.
As a Siren in Equestria, Adagio had never understood why ponies put up with the hassle of caring for their manes. Fins were so much more manageable. But when she’d been banished to this world – the human world – and had a veritable mountain of bushy hair bestowed upon her, she found that she’d quickly changed her tune. Adagio liked her hair, it was one of her favorite features of her human body, second only to her fingers.
She might have been wrong about her perception of hair, but she was definitely correct about the hassle that came along with it. She sighed.
The sacrifices we make to stay beautiful. Is it really worth it? She gave herself an appraising look and smiled.
Definitely.
Another strike at her door brought Adagio’s vain thoughts to an abrupt end. “I’m coming,” she called, her voice dripping with irritation as she made her slow, agonizing way across the room and to the doorway. She pressed her eye to the peephole positioned at the door’s center and was greeted with the distorted visage of Aria Blaze, looking as impatient as she did disheveled.
Adagio smiled, opening the door and draping herself against it. Yes, it hurt, but Aria didn’t need to know that. “Good morning, Aria, how did you sleep?”
“Took you long enough,” said Aria. The dark bags under her eyes made Adagio’s aching muscles seem just a little more bearable. “I seriously don’t know if I hate Sonata more when she’s awake or when she’s sleeping.”
Behind her, Sonata worked diligently at decorating the pair’s whiteboard. She’d written both her own and Aria’s names, surrounded by small drawings of flowers and musical notes. Sonata was placing the finishing touches on a pair of stick figures, which Adagio quickly identified as Sonata’s own smiling self-image, and an angry depiction of Aria with harshly sloped brows and a set of big, pointy teeth.
Adagio giggled, despite herself.
Sonata placed the final stroke on her masterpiece and turned around. Catching Adagio’s eye, she beamed brightly. “Pretty good, right?”
Aria rolled her eyes. “I don’t look like that.”
“Do, too!” retorted Sonata, before turning her attention back to Adagio. “What do you say, ‘Dagi, want me to do yours, too?”
“I’ll pass,” said Adagio, waving her hand dismissively. “You didn’t wake me up to complain about Sonata’s snoring, did you, Aria?”
“I don’t snore!”
Aria’s palm slapped hard against her forehead. “Yes, you do,” she argued, for what was not the first and certainly would not be the last time, “and no, I didn’t. Look.”
Adagio followed Aria’s gesture down the hall where she noticed for the first time a line of over a dozen girls, each holding a uniform and assorted toiletries, stretching out the door to the bathroom.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Adagio.
“Right?” said Aria, crossing her arms.
Sonata looked at Adagio pleadingly. “We’re not going to have to wait in that line, are we?”
Adagio put her hands on her hips, a sinister smile painting itself across her features.
“Do we ever wait in line?”
The smile spread to Aria and Sonata, who fell in behind Adagio as she made her way toward the bathroom. Some girls gave them looks of suspicion as they strode past the line that formed up against the left wall, but most wore expressions of tired disinterest, doing their best not to fall asleep and lose their place in line.
Remembering Cadance’s warning about the horrors of athlete’s foot, Adagio slipped on the pair of shower slippers and entered the bathroom. A row of sinks lined one wall of the room, each paired with a mirror, clouded by the steam that filled the air, each attended by a girl brushing her teeth, washing her face, or fixing her hair or makeup. There was an assortment of bathroom stalls, and next to those were a trio of shower stalls, differentiated by the flowing shower curtains that covered enough of the stall to retain modesty, but still revealed the feet of whomever was inside, likely so outsiders could tell if the stall was occupied without any embarrassing incidents.
As the three Sirens approached the showers, a freckled girl with pink hair sporting a single streak of green moved to intercept them. “Oh my goodness, are you lost?” she said, her almost sickeningly sweet veneer dropping away immediately as she barred her teeth and snarled. “The line starts outside.”
“Oh, really?” replied Adagio, allowing her own faux concern to drop away with equal swiftness. “Because we just started a new one.” Aria and Sonata stepped forward, the three Sirens encircling the girl and cutting her off from the rest of the line. Her eyes darted between them rapidly, not unlike a cornered animal searching for a way out.
“By all means,” she said, the sarcasm in her voice clear even despite her pitiful attempt at sounding considerate. “It’s not like we’ve been waiting all morning!”
Behind her, Adagio noticed as a girl wrapped in a towel vacated one of the showers. Seizing her chance, Adagio circled around the freckled girl and walked to the stall before anyone could stop her.
“Hear that, girls? This good Samaritan just offered us her place in line! Thank her for her generosity, won’t you?”
“You’re too kind,” said Aria, flipping her hair in the girl’s face as she passed. Sonata followed, nudging her with her hip.
“You snooze, you lose!”
The pair took up flanking positions on each side of Adagio’s stall as she gave the girl one last conceited smile, paired with a superfluous wink, and pulled the curtain closed. She could still hear the girl fuming from outside.
“What the hell, Sour Sweet?” came an outraged cry. “Why’d you let them cut?”
“I didn’t–”
“First, she throws the Friendship Games, now this, what a–”
Adagio turned the nozzle and tuned them out with a torrent of hot water. She gave an ecstatic sigh – this was how things were supposed to be! Even without their powers, these humans couldn’t hold a candle to the sheer force of personality that was Adagio Dazzle, or either of the other Sirens, for that matter. The only thing that had stopped them at Canterlot High was Equestrian magic!
Adagio grit her teeth as she lathered shampoo into her voluminous hair. The hot water might have soothed her aching body, but it did little to loosen the all too familiar knot in her stomach. It couldn’t give her have even this tiny moment of triumph, could it? Not without reminding her of how she’d almost had it all.
And instead lost everything.
But it didn’t matter. Soon she’d have it all back and more, she just knew it. She’s been given a second chance, and she wasn’t going to let anyone stand in her way. Not the freckled girl, not Principal Cinch, not the Rainbooms…
Not even her fellow Sirens.
With the renewed conviction that can only be found beneath the nozzle of a hot, much needed shower, Adagio Dazzle was finally ready to face the waking world.
Her conviction died somewhere between the surprise math quiz and being assigned the six-page history paper.
Adagio leaned against a row of lockers outside the Crystal Prep Cafeteria. The Sirens chose the spot that morning after they’d been issued their schedules and discovered they’d been placed into separate classes. Neither Aria nor Sonata had arrived yet, so Adagio was left once again to question the actions of Abacus Cinch.
She might not have considered them her friends, but—as their encounter with the shower line that morning proved—they were a team, a packaged deal, so why was Cinch splitting them up? Did she not realize that they were stronger together, or did she have some ulterior motive?
Yes, as much as she was loathe to admit it, the Sirens had always been more powerful as a collective. That’s why she tolerated Aria’s complaining and Sonata’s stupidity, though sometimes she wondered if it was really worth it.
As if on cue, she spotted Sonata through the crowd of students shuffling into the cafeteria. She walked with her head down, shoulders slumped, and arms hanging loosely at her sides. She looked pathetic. With an inconvenienced sigh, Adagio left her position at the locker and approached Sonata, placing her index finger beneath the girls chin and tilting it up until they were face to face.
Sonata’s eyes were red, puffy, and glistened in the fluorescent light.
“Ugh, you haven’t been crying, have you?”
“No!” sniffed Sonata, defensively, pulling away from Adagio and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
“Good. The last thing we need is for you to ruin our image on our first day.”
“But ‘Dagi,” whined Sonata, “this place is awful! The teacher asked me to answer a question about a book, but I hadn’t read the book, so I started talking about another book I’ve read, and then he got mad and was going to make me leave the class! And then I– I–”
Oh no, she’s going to start crying again.
Adagio placed a hand on Sonata’s shoulder, guiding her out of the crowd. The gesture seemed to have calmed Sonata somewhat—though Adagio merely intended to move her somewhere there would be less prying eyes—now she just looked defeated.
She sniffed again. “When you can’t feed on it, school sucks!”
Adagio couldn’t help but agree. Though being trapped in the bodies of teenagers certainly had its downsides, in the past school had not been one of them. The Sirens would move from town to town, school from school, stirring up turmoil and feeding on what they could. Teenage girls had always been Adagio’s favorites, sometimes they wouldn’t even have to cause trouble themselves, the girls were more than happy to create their own drama and start fights all on their own.
Come to think of it, perhaps it made sense that this world had made them into teenagers. Teenage girls were some of the most ruthless people in this world.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, my day hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk, either.”
“Yeah, it kind of does.”
Adagio rolled her eyes. Ruthless.
It was at that moment, through the sea of students, Adagio caught site of Aria’s signature purple hair. But to Adagio’s surprise, she wasn’t alone. Aria was walking with a pair of other girls, talking about something Adagio couldn’t make out over the awful din of the other students. But she wasn’t just talking. She was—Adagio had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things—smiling!
Who are you, and what have you done with Aria?
Aria spared a few more unintelligible words with the other students, before breaking off and making her way towards her fellow Sirens.
“So,” said Adagio, examining her nails with forced disinterest, “looks like you made some friends.”
Aria’s smile died. “No, we were just talking. I don’t even know their names.”
“Good,” said Adagio, looking up from her nails. “Because we’re not here for that. We’re here to reclaim our magic, that’s all.”
“Ugh, I know. Lay off,” Aria said with a huff. Adagio smiled. Of course she hadn’t made any friends. Talking to Aria was chore at the best of times – if any of them would have made any ‘friends’ yet, it would have been her.
Not that she wanted to.
“Alright, girls, enough chatter, let’s get some food before this pitifully short lunch break is over.” Sonata clapped her hands together and Aria made a face of revulsion, and the three made haste to the cafeteria.
In comparison to that of Canterlot High, the Sirens’ entrance into the Crystal Prep Cafeteria was decidedly lackluster. No singing, no magic, and, worst of all, they weren’t afforded a second glance by the students within. They simply walked in like three ordinary high school students.
Ordinary. Adagio decided she hated the word.
There was no line waiting for them in the cafeteria, and it didn’t take them long to discover why: for all the school’s grandeur, the lunch menu was decidedly unremarkable. After reviewing the meager offerings, Adagio settled on an apple and moved on to secure a place for the three to sit. This proved to be more difficult than she had originally imagined, but after several long minutes of looking she was able to swoop in on a table just as another group left.
The apple was, somehow, even less appetizing than Adagio had expected – it was nothing compared to a true meal – and after a few bites she found that what little appetite she’d had was already used up. The other girls weren’t doing much better: across from her, Adagio watched Aria unenthusiastically pick away at a salad, while beside her Sonata – who had accepted the idea of human food with open arms (and mouth) – stared glumly at her plate.
“I miss ‘Taco Tuesday,’” she said glumly. Aria gave her an exasperated look.
“Sonata, it’s Monday.”
“Duh, it’s not the Tuesday I miss, it’s the tacos!”
Before Aria had a chance to respond, the cafeteria’s PA system crackled to life, bringing relative silence to the room.
“Adagio Dazzle,” it said, “please report to room 1056. Adagio Dazzle, please report to room 1056. Thank you.”
Adagio put her apple down and stood up suddenly, the scraping of the chair legs against the floor drawing some curious looks from nearby students.
“What’s that about?” asked Aria, cocking an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” said Adagio, “but if it means I don’t have to listen to you two idiots argue, I don’t care.”
“Hey–”
“We’re not–”
But Adagio had already begun to walk away. She could still feel the eyes of the onlookers on her, hoping to catch a glimpse of some juicy drama, no doubt, and felt a wry smile tug at her lips. She couldn’t help it; any attention was better than no attention – and Equestria for bid she was starved for it – but it was, none the less, a poor substitute for what could have been.
And what’s going to be, she thought. With her power restored, this whole world would hang on her every word, and she’d have all the attention she would ever want. Sure, she still had to figure out how exactly to get to that point, but that was just semantics.
After a few wrong turns – she was still getting used to the school, after all – Adagio finally found herself standing before room 1056. The door itself was unremarkable to look at; however; it had a peculiar frame made from the same crystal that the school’s architect seemed so fond of, but was far more rough and jagged than the pillars in the atrium. It didn’t have a window like the doors to the classrooms, and if Adagio hadn’t been summoned here she might have assumed it was a janitor’s closet.
She paused. She wasn’t being brought to a janitor’s closet, was she?
Pushing the thought from her mind, Adagio grasped the doorknob and entered.
The room bore little resemblance to the school outside; it was poorly lit, dusty, and crammed full of strange machines Adagio had never seen the likes of. One wall was a cork board covered in a sea of paper, connected by a spider web of red string. A pair of desks sat on either side of the room, each a cluttered mess of books, papers, and computers, and bookshelves sat here and there crammed full of even more dusty tomes. A large, metal pipe ran up one side of the room and across the ceiling – lending credence to Adagio’s theory about this being a janitor’s closet – and standing in the middle of the cramped, disorderly chamber was none other than Principal Abacus Cinch.
“Adagio Dazzle,” she said, running a finger across one of the desks, leaving a trail in the dust. “You certainly took your time.”
“I’m sorry, I was just–”
“I’m not looking for excuses, Miss Dazzle, I was merely making an observation.”
Adagio’s eyes narrowed. So that’s how this was going to be. “Right, well, I’m here now… what am I doing here, exactly?”
“Straight to the point. This space used to belong to a former student of mine, the same former student who, in this very room, designed and constructed the device she used to store magic. The device I have tasked you will rebuilding.
“Her research has remained, for the most part, untouched. I suggest you begin here, and if you are in need of any additional resources you may bring them to my attention. The space itself will be yours to do with as you see fit, and you will find the key on the desk just over there. Do be careful, for it is the only copy – save for my own, of course.”
With a wave of her hand, Principal Cinch ushered Adagio over to the desk where she retrieved the small, unassuming iron key and tucked it into a pouch in her backpack.
“Thanks,” muttered Adagio, uncertainly.
“You’ll find that I can be very generous to those who impress me, Miss Dazzle, and I have gone to great lengths to provide you with the proper tools to exact our revenge upon the delinquents at Canterlot High.”
‘Our’ revenge. Keep telling yourself that.
Principal Cinch smeared the dust between her thumb and index finger, tutting in disapproval. When her gaze found its way back to Adagio her countenance had darkened considerably, almost as if she could hear the treasonous thoughts passing through the girl’s mind.
“But I have no intention of wasting my time. Crystal Prep is not a charity, nor do I believe in sticking out my neck for lost causes – I have a reputation to uphold. As such, the moment that this little project of ours begins to be more trouble than it is worth, I will not hesitate to throw you and your little friends back out onto the street. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” said Adagio through gritted teeth.
“Good. You see, this morning I received the results of your examinations. Expedient, I know, but you will soon learn that Crystal Prep runs like a well-oiled machine. But a machine can only be as strong as its weakest piece, and I’m afraid to say that this machine’s weakest piece is you.”
Adagio blanched. “M–me?”
“I must say I am extremely disappointed in your performance, Miss Dazzle, rarely am I so mistaken when assessing a student. Your grades, both on the physical and academic sections, would be barely acceptable in a public school, let alone an institution such as this. When I told you that you would be held to the same standards as all the other students at this school it was not an idle threat; so as of this moment you may consider yourself on academic probation.”
Adagio stared at her in stunned silence, all the while Principal Cinch’s cold eyes bore into her own. After nearly a minute had passed, Principal Cinch decided she’d waited long enough for a response, and continued.
“You will have until the end of midterm examinations – that is to say, three weeks – to bring your grades up to Crystal Prep standards, or our deal will be broken and I shall see to it that you are removed from the premises. Permanently.”
“Three weeks?” Adagio stammered. “But that’s—you can’t do this! You need us!”
Cinch’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do I? Make no mistake, Miss Dazzle, that while your experience with magic is without a doubt an asset to our little project, it is by no means a prerequisite. Our work will carry on with or without you.
“But I remain hopeful that it won’t come to that. I saw potential in you when we first met: you have the same spirit I see in all my students, it is what separates us from the uncultured masses beyond our walls. You have the potential to be among the greatest students to ever pass through the halls of Crystal Prep, and it would be a great shame to see you squander it.”
Principal Cinch began her exit of the room, passing Adagio and stopping at the door. Adagio didn’t turn around.
“I understand you have a free period. It is my recommendation that you heed my advice and use this time to your advantage. Or don’t, it’s up to you, but perhaps Miss Aria Blaze will prove to be more receptive to my offer.”
And then she was gone.
Adagio stood alone in the dark room. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her shoulders were hunched, her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug painfully into the flesh of her palms and her knuckles were beginning to turn white. Her breathing was quick and labored, and her eyes stung. The knot in her stomach threatened to tear her apart from within.
Her mind raced. What was wrong with that woman? Was this some sort of cruel joke? Take them in, offer them everything, and then pull the rug out from beneath them?
Another wave of anger surged over her. She whirled around, slamming her fist onto the nearest flat surface. The desk shook, its contents scattered and something fell to the floor with a crash. Pain shot up her arm and Adagio cried out. She punched the desk again. And again. And, though her bloodied fist soon became numb to the pain, it did little to ease the fury within.
She felt something wet on her cheek and hastily wiped it away. Sweat, probably.
Her assault on the desk had jostled the computer from its long slumber, and from its monitor a stupid, purple-and-green dog stared at her with its dumb, idiot face. Her anger flared, and she prepared to drive her fist through the screen, when she was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Hello?” It was a familiar voice, wracked with concern. “Are you alright in there? I’m coming in.”
Adagio looked over her shoulder at the door as Cadance entered.
“Adagio?” she asked. “Is that you?”
Adagio looked away. “What are you doing here? Did Principal Cinch send you here to check on me?”
“What?” she sounded confused. “No, a student came to my office and told me they heard someone in here. I thought… well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. How did you get in here? This room is supposed to be locked.”
“Cinch gave me a key,” said Adagio, “right before she put me on ‘Academic probation.’”
“Before she did what? On your first day? Honestly, that woman… what was she thinking?”
Adagio didn’t respond. A few moments passed and Adagio felt Cadance’s hand on her shoulder. She flinched away, reflexively.
“Adagio… are you alright?”
“Am I alright?” Adagio felt something within her snap. She spun to face Cadance, who took a step back. Something was coming over her. “Of course I’m not alright! It’s been one day, Cadance, one! And I’ve already screwed it all up.”
She laughed a grim, joyless laugh. “But that’s hardly a surprise, is it? I screw everything up. Just ask Aria, she’ll tell you. I’m a walking, talking calamity, and every time I think I can’t fall any further the ground breaks away beneath me and I find myself on a whole other level of failure.”
The room was quiet in the wake of Adagio’s outburst. Cadance’s shocked expression softened back into concern, and after several long minutes she spoke.
“It isn’t as bad as all that, is it?”
“It sure seems that way” Adagio replied, bitterly.
“Well, for starters, you’re here, aren’t you? Crystal Prep is the best school in the state – probably the country! – and you were accepted. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
Adagio scoffed. “And I’m about to be kicked out.”
“No, you’re not,” Cadance corrected. “You’re on probation. There’s still time to turn things around. Most kids – er, young adults – who fail our entrance exam don’t get a second chance. You’re special, Adagio, I can see it, and Principal Cinch must see it too, otherwise she wouldn’t be giving you this chance.”
You don’t know the half of it, thought Adagio. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?”
“No,” she lied. Even though Cadance didn’t know half the story, Adagio none the less found a small amount of comfort in her words. Cadance must have sensed this, because a smile crept back onto her face. It suited her.
“Okay,” Cadance said, “that’s a start. So, did Principal Cinch say how long you had to get your grades up?”
“Three weeks.”
“That’s… not a lot of time. But it’s more than we need, if you’re willing to put the work in.” Cadance looked her square in the eyes. “Are you?”
“I…” She looked at the floor. This was stupid, no one could learn an entire curriculum in three weeks. And yet… “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“That’s not what I asked,” said Cadance. “I can help you, Adagio, but I need to know that you want to help yourself. The fact that you’re still talking to me is a good start, but I need to hear you say it.”
“Okay.”
“’Okay’ what?” prodded Cadance.
“’Okay’ I’ll do it. I’ll put in the work. I’ll get my grades up.” I’ll get my magic back. I’ll crush Abacus Cinch and the Rainbooms.
“That’s the spirit!” said Cadance, clapping her hands together. “I knew you’d come around.”
“Whatever,” said Adagio. “So, where do we start?”
“We start by taking you to the nurse’s office and getting that hand looked at. Getting upset and punching walls isn’t healthy.”
“It was a desk,” Adagio muttered.
“Not the point,” chastised Cadance. “Don’t hit anything – or anyone, for that matter. And as for what comes next, well, I’ve got an idea. I’ll have to make a phone call, but if everything works out like I’m hoping then you’ll be well on your way to acing those midterms!”
Adagio felt a little excitement stir within her. She couldn’t help it; Cadance’s enthusiasm was infectious – she might have hated it if she didn’t need it so desperately.
“A phone call? To who?”
“I’d rather not say until things are one hundred percent sorted,” said Cadance, mysteriously. “I wouldn’t want to make a promise I can’t keep. So, until then, you’re just going to have to trust me.”
Adagio Dazzle hadn’t been expecting much when Cadance dropped her off at the nurse’s office, but she certainly wasn’t prepared for Nurse Tough Love.
He was the opposite of everything she imagined a nurse to be: a towering behemoth of a man with arms the size of tree trunks and the bedside manner of a corpse, one could almost be forgiven for believing him a Minotaur escaped from Equestria. His rippling form was packed comically into the tight white uniform he wore, matched only in absurdity by the tiny nurse’s cap perched precariously upon his head.
Tough Love took one look at Adagio’s bloodied knuckles and pointed a meaty finger towards a cot in the corner. “Go,” he said, “sit.”
Adagio did as she was told, unsure whether to be frightened by the hulking nurse or amused by him. She climbed up onto the bunk and crossed her legs, watching as he tipped a bottle of some unknown fluid onto a cotton swab and approached her. With one hand, he took hold of Adagio’s wrist, and with the other he gently dabbed the swab against her wound.
It stung. Adagio hissed and tried to pull away, but was held fast by the nurse’s firm grip. She bit down hard on her lip and tried to lock eyes with her captor in some small show of defiance against the pain he was inflicting upon her, but Tough Love’s full attention was on her hand.
After several agonizing minutes, he released her and disposed of the swab. Adagio watched him bitterly as he rooted through a cupboard, probably looking for some fresh implement to torture her with.
“You could have warned me,” she said, cradling her wrist in her good hand.
“Could have,” Tough Love replied. He turned back towards her holding a roll of bandages. Adagio knew what was coming, and what’s more, she knew there was very little she could do to get out of it. She sighed and held out her arm. Tough Love began his work.
“Ouch, that’s tight!” she whined.
“Supposed to be,” he said, unmoved.
As before, Tough Love was solemn as he went about his work. His fingers worked with surprising deftness, and before long Adagio was flexing her fingers and examining the pristine white bandage that encased them.
“Is that it? Am I good to go?” she moved to stand, but was stopped abruptly by a colossal hand clapping down on her shoulder. It was like running into a wall.
“You wait for Cadance,” grunted Tough Love.
“Well, I know where her office is, so I’ll just…” Adagio’s words died in her throat when she caught Tough Love’s dour expression. She sighed. There was no helping it. “…stay here, I guess.”
He nodded in approval, removing his hand from her shoulder and pulling a blue privacy curtain closed around her cot. “You wait,” he said. “You heal.”
She heard his lumbering steps cross the small office and the whine of metal as he collapsed into a chair designed for someone half his size. Adagio stared blankly at the curtain for a moment, before lying back on the bunk in resignation.
With no way to tell the time and nothing better to do than to stare at the ceiling and wait for Cadance’s return, Adagio couldn’t help but to reflect on her first day at Crystal Prep. ‘Disaster’ was one way of putting it; already she was behind on her classes and on the verge of being thrown out, and worse she hadn’t made any progress on reclaiming her lost magic.
What had she expected? The thought crept from the back of her mind. Abacus Cinch had made it clear what she’d expected of the Sirens when first they’d met, so what was the problem?
Abacus Cinch. Adagio could feel her blood pressure rise at the thought of her. Expectations or no, drawing Adagio away from her fellow Sirens and ambushing her – threatening her – was unacceptable. One did not simply threaten Adagio Dazzle; they served her, worshipped her, bent to her every whim and fancy. That Abacus Cinch had the audacity to consider her expendable proved once more how far the Sirens had fallen.
But what bothered her even more than the principal’s insolence was that it had gotten her. Abacus Cinch had tested her resolve and she’d failed. But not only had she failed, she’d flown off the handle like an impetuous child. Looking back on it she felt embarrassed with herself, and yet the anger and frustration were still fresh in her mind.
She groaned and closed her eyes. What am I going to do with myself?
Well, for starters, she’d placed herself at the whim of Dean Cadance. Adagio frowned. She had accepted Cadance’s help in a moment of vulnerability, and now she waited idly for her return so she might be further embroiled in her mysterious plan. Adagio didn’t like it. Amongst the Sirens she was the leader, the planner, but since she’d first entered the halls of Crystal Prep Academy everything she’d done had been at the behest of someone else. It felt as if she was losing her agency. But if Cadance was truly trying to help her, was that such a terrible thing? Would it hurt to be a little adaptable?
Adagio pressed her palms against her eyes. All this introspection was giving her a headache.
From beyond the sanctuary of her curtain, Adagio heard a knock at the door. She listened as Tough Love lifted himself from his chair (its creaking sounded almost like a sigh of relief) and made his way over to answer it, and was surprised when she didn’t hear Cadance’s annoyingly cheerful voice.
Or any voice, for that matter.
But someone had come in, Adagio could hear the clicking of heels on the office floor and the rustling of Tough Love going through one of the many cabinets, but no conversation passed between him and the newcomer.
Intrigued, Adagio strained her ears in an attempt to better identify the newcomer. It was futile, of course, she’d barely been at Crystal Prep for a day and there were probably hundreds of students she hadn’t even seen¸ but anything was better than the pity party she’d been throwing for herself, so she continued.
Listening closely, Adagio heard what sounded like someone fumbling with paper, followed by a ripping noise, and then… tape?
“For your glasses,” came the gruff voice of Tough Love, as if in answer to her nonverbal question.
That was all Adagio could take. Her curiosity (and boredom) overwhelming her, she couldn’t help but take a peek. Sliding the curtain aside ever so slightly, Adagio peered out into the office proper and – to her great surprise – discovered that she did, indeed, recognize the mysterious newcomer.
Sugarcoat stood in the center of the nurse’s office, squinting and holding her glasses aloft as Tough Love nimbly wrapped a piece of clear tape around their bridge. On her left brow, Adagio noticed a thin bandage and some slight bruising that had not been there the day before. Had Sugarcoat fallen? Or, perhaps, been pushed?
With Sugarcoat’s glasses mended, Adagio ducked back behind the curtain before her snooping could be discovered. She’d have to remember to ask her about it later, but if Sugarcoat’s interaction with Tough Love were any indication, Adagio doubted she’d get much out of her.
Another minute or so passed in relative silence before the rattling of the doorknob heralded Sugarcoat’s exit, and after another ten or fifteen Cadance finally made her return. Tough Love slid open the curtain and watched with his usual stoic expression as Adagio hopped off the bed and followed Cadance out of the office.
The halls of Crystal Prep were largely devoid of students. That wasn’t much of a surprise – who in their right mind would stick around and wander the halls after school had ended? – and it allowed the pair to speak candidly without worry of being overheard as Cadance lead them to an unknown destination.
“So,” she said, “what did you think of Nurse Tough Love?”
“He… wasn’t what I expected.”
Cadance laughed. “He looks more like a gym teacher than a nurse, doesn’t he? But he knows his stuff, and it seems like he did a good job on your bandage.”
Adagio shrugged and took another close look at her hand. “How long am I supposed to keep this on for, anyway?”
“He didn’t say?”
“He wasn’t much of a talker.”
“Hmm,” Cadance rubbed her chin. “You’ll have to ask him tomorrow at lunch. We’ve got to move if we don’t want to be late!”
Adagio raised an eyebrow. “Late for what?”
“I found you a tutor!”
Adagio groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was to lower herself to asking another student for help, and would have outright refused if it weren’t for the little voice in her head reminding her to be adaptable.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” said Cadance. “There’s nothing wrong with needing a tutor, in fact I’m trying to kickstart a tutoring program right here at Crystal Prep!”
“First, I do not need a tutor. I’m just… exploring my options. And second, if there’s no tutoring program, how’d you find me a tutor?”
“I have my ways,” said Cadance with a wink. The pair reached Crystal Prep’s main entrance and opened the door. The morning’s light rain had evolved into a full-on downpour, and the two paused while Cadance produced a gaudy pink umbrella. “She’s a former Crystal Prep student whom I’m still on good terms with. I told her I had a student who could use a little help getting their grades up, and she was more than happy to oblige. Now squeeze in!”
Cadance beckoned to Adagio who reluctantly joined her beneath the umbrella, and together they stepped out into the storm. Things seemed to be going alright in their trek across the parking lot, until a sudden gust of wind buffeted the duo, turning their umbrella inside out and sending them into a mad dash through the downpour.
“There!” shouted Cadance over the cacophony of wind and rain. “Black car, lights on!” She fumbled in her purse as she ran, quickly locating her car keys and unlocking the vehicle with a push of a button and a telltale chirp. Neither of them wasted any time opening their doors, and were welcomed by a wall of warm air and heated seats.
Cadance let out a sigh of relief. “Remote start really is a miracle of modern technology,” she said. “You’re probably too young to appreciate how good you’ve got it these days.”
“Whatever you say, old-timer,” said Adagio, wringing out her hair.
Cadance laughed. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?” She checked her mirrors and put the key in the ignition. “Buckle up, Adagio.”
Adagio watched her skeptically as Cadance did up her own seatbelt and gave her a pointed look.
“I’m serious, this car isn’t going anywhere until all its occupants are safely buckled in!”
Adagio relented. The polyester belt rubbed against her neck uncomfortably, and when Cadance noticed this she leaned over her and performed some adjustments that made it fit a little better, as well as moving her seat closer to the dashboard. All the fussing made Adagio feel like a child.
“There we go,” said Cadance, checking her mirrors again before starting the car’s engine and pulling out of the parking spot. Adagio found herself staring out the passenger’s side window, lulled into a state of relaxation by the pitter-patter of the raindrops and the warmth of the seat beneath her.
“So, where are we meeting this mysterious former student of yours?”
“The Canterlot Public Library; have you ever been there?”
Adagio shook her head.
“I suppose that’s not a surprise, libraries aren’t as popular for studying as they used to be. I really am showing my age today, aren’t I? Anyway, I figured it would be a good neutral location for you to meet, and it’s got some nice, private study rooms where you can get your work done in peace. Plus, she was already there.”
“She hangs out at a library?”
“Don’t judge! She’s got a healthy interest in learning – that’s part of the reason I thought of asking her for help.”
Adagio shrugged. “I suppose.”
The remainder of the trip was relatively uneventful. Adagio passed the time gazing once more out her window, transfixed by the endless grey sky above. It was peaceful.
Eventually, the car slowed to a stop outside what Adagio could only assume was the Canterlot Public Library. It was quite the spectacle to behold: rows of stone steps, flanked triumphantly by large, equine statues, lead to a building that might have fit better in Equestria than in this world. Ornate pillars surrounded a grand entranceway, and overhead, carved in ornate lettering, was a sentence written in a language Adagio didn’t understand.
“Not bad, huh?” said Cadance. “It says ‘The Gateway to Understanding’ …or something like that. My Latin is a little rusty.”
Looking at the building, Adagio couldn’t help but feel a slight twang of nostalgia. She forced it away, wincing slightly as she felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Now wasn’t the time for homesickness.
“It’s… big,” she said. Ugh, ‘it’s big?’ who are you, Sonata?
“Anyway, you’ll find her on the third floor in study-room six. She’s expecting you, so you can just walk right in.”
Adagio cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not coming?”
“I’d just get in your way. Besides, I’ve got a hot date.” She winked. Adagio rolled her eyes. “I do!” insisted Cadance. “Fine, believe what you want, either way I’ll be back in a few hours to pick you up. If you give me your phone number I can text you when I’m outside.”
Adagio stared at her blankly. “I don’t have a phone.”
Cadance’s brow furrowed and she looked at Adagio in confusion. “I’m sorry?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“Really?”
Adagio crossed her arms in irritation.
“Sorry,” said Cadance, “I just thought that every girl your age had a cellphone. Weird! Well, we’ll figure something out. And I can work on getting you a phone with the school’s plan, if you’d like. One of the many privileges of attending the best school in the country. Think of it as another incentive to getting those grades up!”
Adagio shrugged. “I guess.”
“If you keep shrugging like that your arms are going to fall off. Now, take the umbrella, the wind’s died down a bit and the librarian might kill you if you track water all over the floor. There you go, study hard, and try to have fun!”
Adagio accepted the umbrella that Cadance was practically forcing into her hands, opened it, and stepped out into the rain. As Cadance had predicted, the wind had died down significantly, and after a couple of initial cautious steps, Adagio now made her way swiftly up the stone steps, not wanting to push her luck. When she’d made it half way, she was startled by the honk of a car horn. Turning around, she saw Cadance waving at her from the window below. She shook her head, returned the wave halfheartedly, before continuing back up the stairs, passing a blue haired gentleman similarly armed with an umbrella. He was waving, too.
Idiot, thought Adagio, cattily, he thinks she’s waving at him.
She continued up the steps, managing to make it inside without any further trouble from the weather. The interior of the building was much as she expected of a library: dozens of rows of shelves each packed with innumerable books as far as the eye could see, each sorted into their own section and again by the name of the author. The volume was staggering – humans were no less prolific in their writing than ponies, that was for certain. On her left, an older man with thinning white hair and thick glasses manned a station labeled ‘check in/out.’ Not eager to make the acquaintance of yet another strange human, and still having to meet her mysterious tutor, Adagio elected to find her way to the third floor on her own.
There was something strange about the library. All the lights were on, and everything seemed well maintained, and yet it felt empty. Abandoned. In her search for the staircase Adagio didn’t encounter a single soul amongst the many rows of books. Occasionally felt the sensation of someone watching her, but when she’d turn around she’d find only the hollow gaze of an author’s portrait, peering at her from its place on the back of a thick tome.
Eventually, she did find the staircase, alongside the large, obvious sign indicating its location. Adagio chastised herself for not seeing it earlier, before mounting yet another set of stairs. She noted that the pain in her legs, while still present, was much more bearable than it had been that morning – at least compared to the dull throbbing pain of her knuckles, anyway.
The third floor wasn’t at all like the ground floor below. It was a series of hallways and doors marked with plain numbers. The halls could have come straight from any nondescript school or office building in the world, and did little to convey the grandeur and elegance that the building’s exterior projected in spades.
But at least it was easy to navigate.
As she approached door number six, a nagging feeling of apprehension came over her, and as much as she tried to force it away it clung stubbornly at the back of her mind. She reached for the door knob, but hesitated.
Come on, Adagio, get a hold of yourself!
She was right – she was being stupid. Today had already been an unmitigated disaster, what else could possibly go wrong? So, closing her eyes and imagining the worst possible outcome, Adagio walked through door number six and opened her eyes.
But, to her horror, everything remained the same.
“Hello,” said the voice from her nightmares, “you’re Adagio Dazzle, right?”
Adagio’s blood froze and her breath caught in her throat, the knot in her stomach doubled in size. She was dumbstruck, unable to respond. The door clicked closed behind her.
“Cadance told me you transferred to Crystal Prep from Canterlot High.”
This can’t be happening.
“That’s so funny! I recently transferred to CHS from Crystal Prep, we must have just missed each other!”
Cadance’s former student, she’s…
“But where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself!”
Adagio had recovered just enough from the initial shock to finally respond. “There’s no need,” she said, the ice in her veins translating directly into her tone. “I know who you are, Twilight Sparkle.”
Color drained from Twilight’s face, and a tense silence fell over the room.
What a farce! Adagio couldn’t help but marvel at the absurdity of it all. Once again, she’d sunk to her lowest point, only to find a whole new world of low hidden underneath. And of course it was Twilight Sparkle! Her old foe back to snatch her magic away once again – she couldn’t have written it better! One big cosmic joke, and it was all at her expense, but Adagio wouldn’t stick around to be laughed at. She turned to leave.
“Wait!” Adagio looked back. Twilight Sparkle had jumped up from her chair, which teetered precariously before falling over backwards with a crash. Twilight flinched at the sound, but continued. “We’ve met, haven’t we?”
“Oh, we’ve met!” the words exploded out of her with more intensity than Adagio had intended, but she didn’t care. “We met, and then you proceeded to ruin my life!”
Twilight winced. “Ruined your life?”
“Yes,” spat Adagio, “ruined my life. And I won’t stand here and be taunted about it!” She grabbed the door knob with her good hand.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here!” She felt a tug on her other hand and a fresh burst of pain from beneath her bandages. Twilight – in a surprising burst of speed – had skirted around the table that took up much of the small room’s limited space, and grabbed her hand. Adagio snatched it away, resisting the urge to slap her for her audacity (and fearing repercussions in the form of another beam of celestial light). “What is your problem?”
“It wasn’t me!” pleaded Twilight. Adagio gawked at her incredulously, then turned the knob. “Please, just listen!” she grabbed Adagio again, this time missing the bandage and wrapping her hands around the bare flesh of Adagio’s forearm. Her hands were warm and soft, her grip firm but not painful. Adagio was so shocked by her continued defiance that, once again, she was at a loss for words. Misinterpreting this as a cue, Twilight continued.
“This is going to be hard to believe – I still don’t really believe it myself – but the Twilight Sparkle you met isn’t me. She’s, uh, well – this is going to sound crazy, but I swear I’m not crazy – uhm, the thing is–”
“Spit it out, Sparkle!”
“She’s my magical-pony-princess-doppelganger from the enchanted land of–”
“Equestria,” finished Adagio.
“Equestria,” said Twilight. Her eyes widened. “You’ve heard of it – you’ve heard of it!”
“You could say that.”
“Of course you’ve heard if it, you went to CHS! Every time I talk about it I’m afraid someone’s going to roll up in a black van and drag me away – but you’ve heard of it!” Adagio could see the wave or relief washing over Twilight. “The Twilight you met was the Equestrian version, I’m the one native to this world. We’re almost exactly alike – well, sort of: she’s a princess, but we don’t really have princesses in the same way, I wear glasses but she’s got perfect vision, and she liked to wear her hair down while I prefer to–”
“Twilight Sparkle,” interjected Adagio.
Twilight blinked. “Yes?”
“First, let go of me. Second, be quiet, I need to… I don’t know. Process this.”
“Oops, sorry!” Twilight took her hands off Adagio’s arm and took a step back, but her eyes never left Adagio’s. The pair stared at each other, the small room silent save for the sound of their breathing. Adagio’s mind raced. This was Twilight Sparkle, but not the same Twilight Sparkle, Adagio could see that now. But it wasn’t just the hair and the glasses: there was something different about the way she held herself. This girl didn’t have the stage-filling presence of her Equestrian counterpart, nor the aura of leadership. When Adagio thought back to the winged form of Princess Twilight Sparkle, held aloft by Equestrian Magic and tearing down everything Adagio had worked so hard to build, she felt nothing but revulsion. But when she considered the deep, glistening eyes of the girl who now stood before her, she felt…
…Something different.
Adagio took her hand off the knob. She was crazy to be considering this, right? Her instincts told her to leave, to flee from anything and everything that held the name ‘Twilight Sparkle’ until she was ready to bring about her revenge. And yet a seed of an idea had planted itself in her mind. Cadance had said that this Twilight was smart, and not only that, but she was eager to help. Eager. She could feel the seed sprouting in her mind. It was a cosmic comedy alright, but this time she’d be the one telling the jokes. One Twilight to deliver her from another… it was too perfect!
But it wouldn’t be easy. She was still Twilight Sparkle, after all, which probably meant there was a goody-two-shoes hiding in there, somewhere. She couldn’t let Twilight find out who she was – what she was – or risk ruining everything. The fact that she didn’t already recognize Adagio’s name was a good start, it meant the buzz surrounding the Battle of the Bands must have died down somewhat already. That meant there was a chance. She could already feel the knot loosening in her stomach.
“So?” probed Twilight, tentatively. “What do you think?”
“I think…” began Adagio, “…that I’m willing to give this arrangement a chance.”
“Yes!” cheered Twilight. She opened her mouth to continue, but Adagio cut her off.
“But I have a condition: this stays between you and me – between Adagio Dazzle and Twilight Sparkle. Not Princess Twilight Sparkle, not Twilight Sparkle’s CHS classmates, just us.” She chose her next words carefully. “There was some unpleasantness at Canterlot High, that’s why I transferred out. I was hoping for a fresh start, an opportunity to start over without all the baggage and drama of everyone expecting me to act a certain way… You know what I mean?”
Twilight cast her gaze to the floor. “Yeah, I have an idea.”
“Good, then you understand why I want to keep this under wraps. If people hear you’re tutoring me, they might try to color your opinion of me. They won’t believe someone like me can change, and they definitely won’t want you helping me. They might even try to stop you”
Twilight frowned. “I can’t imagine the students at CHS would do something like that… but okay. My lips are sealed. If you’re willing to take the girl who has a similar-yet-not-identical face to the girl who ‘ruined your life’ as a tutor, then I’m more than willing to have you as a tutee.”
Adagio smiled, doing her best to keep the wickedness from seeping into it. “I’m willing to try.”
“Wonderful!” Twilight clapped her hands together, before extending one towards Adagio. “Let’s give this meeting a second chance, shall we? Call it a mulligan.” She cleared her throat. “My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I’m your new tutor.” It sounded like she’d rehearsed that line before Adagio had arrived. It was almost endearing.
Almost.
“Hello, Twilight Sparkle,” she replied, taking Twilight’s hand in her own. “My name is Adagio Dazzle, and I’m here to learn.”
The remainder of Adagio’s first session with Twilight Sparkle had been mostly unproductive. The two girls had agreed that, after the whirlwind of drama and coincidence that had been their initial meeting, it was unlikely they would get much actual studying done that day. Instead, they decided to meet at the library again the following day – Cadance permitting – and spent the rest of their time talking.
It had been surreal. The more she’d spoke to this world’s Twilight Sparkle, the more separate she became from her pony-princess counterpart, and by the time they’d parted ways that evening Adagio had formed a firm mental divide between the two.
She supposed that it wasn’t all that surprising. After all, she’d barely spoken to the other Twilight Sparkle – never even addressed her as an individual separate from her hated ‘Rainbooms.’ Since her defeat, she’d built Twilight Sparkle up in her head as less of a person, and more some magic-stealing tyrant (she’d done the same with Sunset Shimmer, of course, but the rest sort of just blended together in her mind). But this Twilight Sparkle was a real, actual person, who loved math, science, history, and literature. She loved them so much that she was more than willing to teach Adagio everything she was willing to learn.
Which she would then use to crush those who stood in her way. The irony was delectable.
But that wasn’t all she’d learned while she and Twilight talked; amongst useless tidbits of her life at CHS, Twilight had let slip that the other Twilight had returned to Equestria – perhaps permanently!
It had taken all Adagio’s force of will to keep from cheering. While some small part of her lamented the chance to crush Twilight along with the rest of the Rainbooms, a much larger part knew that, without their leader, they would be little more than a speedbump on the road to Adagio’s ascension. She was practically giddy. Earlier that day she’d though everything was falling apart when, in fact, it was all falling into place!
When finally it came time for them to part, Adagio had left in high spirits. Cadance must have sensed the shift in her demeanor, because when Adagio stepped into her car she was met with a smug smile.
“So, how did it go?”
Adagio put on her best aloof expression, but none the less felt an upward tug at the edges of her mouth. “It was alright, how was your date?”
“Oh no,” said Cadance, undeterred, “we’re talking about you, not me. How did it go?”
“You know, it’s not very professional for a teacher to nag a student like this.” Adagio countered.
“I’ll have you know that I am a Dean, and as such my number one priority is the safety and wellbeing of all the students who attend and have attended Crystal Prep. No more excuses – spill!”
“Fine, fine. It was… good,” said Adagio with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Kind of awkward at first, but by the end we were getting along quite well. We were planning to get together again tomorrow, if that’s alright with you.”
“Of course it’s alright! I can give you a drive tomorrow, but if this becomes a regular thing we’re going to have to get you a bus pass. Drop by my office tomorrow afternoon and we can get it set up.” The car stopped at a red light, and Cadance turned to look at Adagio. “I’m glad it went well, and I’m glad you girls got along. Before you know it, you’ll be top of your class!”
Adagio blushed. “We’ll see.” She didn’t want to get her hopes up too high, but with how well everything had turned out it was hard not to be optimistic. And it wasn’t as if being top of the class really mattered, not once she got her magic back, anyway, but the idea of being on top of anything felt good. She was tired of losing.
The rest of the car ride went uneventfully, and before long they found themselves pulling up outside the dormitory building. They said their goodbyes, and Adagio was preparing to get out of the vehicle, when Cadance stopped her.
“One last thing,” she said, her tone lacking much of its familiar pep. “I mentioned yesterday about how the students – and faculty – are still out of sorts about what happened at the Friendship Games.”
“You did,” said Adagio, her curiosity piqued.
“Well, Twilight was there, and she’s part of the reason the games ended up in a draw. So, like how I suggested not bringing up your time at CHS, maybe consider not bringing up Twilight’s name, at least for now, and especially not around Principal Cinch.” That got Adagio’s attention – anything that she could use against Abacus Cinch was on top of her list of priorities. She cocked an eyebrow, but it appeared Cadance had said everything she intended to on the subject, as indicated by the sound of the electronic locks releasing.
“Better get inside before the rain picks up again,” said Cadance. “You can drop off the umbrella when I see you tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” posed Adagio, but Cadance waved her off.
“I’m sure. See you tomorrow!” And with that, Cadance’s car peeled out, leaving Adagio alone in the rain and the dark.
The walk to the dormitory was a short one and, with a mind occupied by the world of possibilities that had opened up that evening, Adagio found herself outside the door to her room before she knew it. She paused before opening it, looking over her shoulder towards the room that belonged to Sonata and Aria. There was a smudge on their whiteboard where the caricature of Aria had been that morning, and Adagio imagined she could hear the faint sounds of an argument coming from within.
Should I tell them?
Her gaze lingered on the whiteboard a moment longer before she turned away. What would she even tell them? That Abacus Cinch had threatened her place at Crystal Prep? That she’d spent her afternoon with this world’s Twilight Sparkle?
No, she couldn’t tell them. Sonata wouldn’t understand, and Aria would just use it as another opportunity to question her leadership. Adagio had more than enough to deal with without adding an insurrection from her fellow Sirens, and thus made the decision to keep it – the probation, the tutoring, and Twilight Sparkle – a secret.
The idea sat poorly with her. Had she ever kept a secret from them before? If she had, she couldn’t remember doing so. But this was necessary, she told herself, and in three weeks when she passed her midterms and her arrangement with Twilight Sparkle was at its end, maybe then she could tell them the truth. But, for now, this was how things had to be.
The decision made, Adagio unlocked the door to her own room and entered. Inside, Sugarcoat was seated at her desk, reading by the light of an electric lamp. She looked up, fumbled with something on the desk, and held it out towards Adagio.
“I found this on the floor,” she said. Pressed between her thumb and index finger was a familiar shard of red crystal. “What is it?”
Adagio’s heard stopped. Without thinking she snatched the crystal shard from Sugarcoat’s grasp, cradling it covetously in her palm. Once she’d determined that it was unharmed – that is to say, no more broken than it was before – she turned back to Sugarcoat, who was watching her intently.
“It’s… part of a necklace.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either. “It meant a lot to me – still does, I guess.”
“If it means a lot to you, then you shouldn’t leave it on the floor,” said Sugarcoat, matter-of-factly. She reached out and grabbed a tissue from a box on her desk, daintily dabbing it against the tip of her thumb, leaving behind tiny splotches of blood.
Adagio frowned. “Did I do that when I grabbed the crystal?” Sugarcoat nodded. “Oh, er, I’m… I didn’t mean to–” Adagio hung her head and looked the other way. “Sorry,” she muttered.
She wasn’t sorry, of course, it just felt like the right thing to say.
Sugarcoat shrugged. “You didn’t do it on purpose,” she said, and held up her thumb for Adagio to see. The bleeding had stopped. “See? It’s fine.”
Adagio looked from her thumb back to her face, her gaze coming to rest on her brow. The bruising had gone down significantly, but little white bandage remained. “What happened there?” she asked.
“Someone tripped me in the hall,” replied Sugarcoat, her expression unreadable. “That was on purpose.”
“Did you see who did it?” Sugarcoat nodded. Adagio tapped her foot impatiently. “And?”
“Her name was Fleur de Lis”
Adagio rubbed her eyes. “Okay, but what did you do next?”
“I went to the nurse’s office.”
“To her,” said Adagio, her exasperation cutting through into her words. “What did you do to her?”
“You’re getting really agitated about this.”
Adagio’s eye twitched. Getting answers out of this girl was like pulling teeth! “So, nothing then, right?” Sugarcoat didn’t respond, but a slight narrowing of her eyes indicated to Adagio that she was on the right track. She continued. “You can’t just let people get away with hurting you, there have to be consequences.” Sugarcoat looked at her skeptically.
“You hurt me, too.”
Adagio waved her hand dismissively. “That’s different. She tripped you: trip her back, dig up some dirt, spread a rumor, you get the idea. If you don’t do anything about it, it’s just going to happen again.”
Sogarcoat folded her arms. “You really don’t know how things work around here.”
“They work the same here as they do everywhere else: either you’re getting stepped on, or you’re doing the stepping, and I know which one I’d rather be doing.”
Sugarcoat stared at her for a long time, her expression indecipherable, before eventually turning back to her book. Adagio sighed. Why had she even bothered? Just because they shared a room didn’t mean Adagio was obligated to care about what happened in the other girl’s life, and yet the idea of her getting pushed around had none the less sat poorly with her.
All the sudden Adagio felt very tired. Yes, that was it: she was exhausted, not thinking straight. Of course she didn’t care about Sugarcoat’s altercation with Fleur de Lis – that was just her weary mind playing tricks on her. All that mattered now was getting some rest in preparation of another tortuous day at Crystal Prep.
So, without another word to Sugarcoat, Adagio carefully set the crystal shard down on her desk, climbed the ladder to the top bunk, and got ready for bed. A short while later, she heard the lamp switching off, and the squeaking of a mattress.
“Goodnight,” said a soft voice from the bunk bellow. It was the last thing Adagio heard before sleep took her.
The next morning, Adagio once again found herself waking up in an empty room. She tried to go back to sleep, if only for a few more minutes, but a restlessness stirred from within her and made the task quite impossible. Resigning herself to an early start, Adagio climbed out of bed and collected her things, making it out the door in record time. As she stepped out into the hall, she was greeted by the sight of Aria doing the same.
“Hey,” said Adagio, breaking the silence.
“Hey,” said Aria. Another moment of silence passed between the two. Aria cleared her throat. “So,” she said “where’d you go yesterday? Sonata finished your apple.”
A shocked gasp came from behind Aria. “You swore you wouldn’t tell!”
Aria smirked. “I lied.”
Luckily for Adagio, the brief banter between the two gave her just enough time to come up with an excuse. “Oh, that? Abacus Cinch had a few things she wanted to talk to me about – nothing to concern yourself with.” Invoking the Principal’s name ignited a fresh spark of indignation within Adagio, but it was worth it to see the emotion reflected tenfold across Aria’s face, and Adagio wasn’t even done rubbing it in. She produced the small iron key. “She even gave me – I mean us – somewhere to work on our little project.”
“Am not!” argued Sonata. “Hey, someone erased my picture!”
Aria slapped her forehead and Adagio pinched the bridge of her nose. Sonata continued staring at the whiteboard.
“Who would do such a thing?”
The rest of the morning had gone much the same as the day before. Between the three of them, the Sirens were easily able to bully their way to the front of the shower line without further incident, and make it to their morning classes on time. The classes themselves were an exercise in frustration, filled to the brim with unfamiliar concepts and references to ‘previous lectures,’ and Adagio found herself spending more time writing down what she didn’t understand than following what she did. It had been a suggestion of Twilight’s: writing down what she didn’t understand so they could go over it later, but as the pages started to pile up Adagio felt the all too familiar tightening sensation in her stomach. When the lunch bell finally rang, Adagio didn’t know if she’d ever felt so relieved.
Making her way to their meeting spot outside the cafeteria, Adagio was surprised to find that she’s wasn’t the first Siren there. Sonata waited with a big smile on her face and clutching an opaque plastic container, shifting it to one hand and waving frantically when she spotted Adagio through the mob of students.
“Ohmigod, ‘Dagi, have you had ‘Home Ec.’ yet? It’s amazing!”
Adagio winced. “No, I haven’t, and keep your voice down. I don’t need you shouting in my ear.”
“Am I?” said Sonata, looking puzzled. “Oh! It must have been the music, it was really loud!”
Now Adagio was confused. “Music?”
Sonata beamed. “Yeah! We got split into pairs and everyone hard a partner except for me and this one other girl, whose old partner transferred out or something. Anyway, she didn’t care what we made as long as she got to listen to her music, so I got to cook whatever I wanted!”
“Hang on – cook?”
“Yeah, ‘Home Ec.’ is a cooking class! So, in honor of it being Tuesday, guess what I made?”
Adagio stared at her.
“Brownies!” There was an audible slapping sound as Adagio’s face found her palm. Sonata touched her chin thoughtfully. “Huh, maybe I should have made tacos. Oh well, next time!”
While Adagio stood in stunned silence in the wake of Sonata’s stupidity, Aria broke from a crowd of students and joined her fellow Sirens. “What’s with the box?” she asked.
“I made brownies!” cheered Sonata, popping the seal on the plastic container and revealing its contents. Inside were a pair of Sonata’s brownies, lumpy and misshapen, they were decorated by the letters ‘A’ and ‘G’ written in bright blue icing. “See? I saved one for each of you!”
Adagio and Aria eyed the brownies skeptically. “What do the letters stand for?” asked Aria.
“The ‘A’ stands for ‘Adagio’ and the ‘G’ stands for ‘Grumpy-Gills,’” said Sonata. She gave Aria a smug look. “That one is yours.”
Aria scowled. “I’ll pass.”
“Me, too,” said Adagio.
The smugness drained from Sonata’s face. “What? But I saved them just for you girls!”
“Probably so you could poison us,” said Aria, a slight smile gracing her lips.
“I would never do that!” argued Sonata.
“Intentionally,” added Adagio. She and Aria shared a laugh.
Sonata scrunched up her nose. “I don’t see either of you making brownies!” She slammed the lid closed on the plastic container. “You don’t want them? That’s fine, now you can’t have them! You’ve lost your brownie privileges!”
“Oh no,” lamented Adagio, sarcastically. “Whatever shall we do?”
“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” deadpanned Aria.
Sonata pouted. “You girls are the worst.”
“Anyway,” said Aria, glancing over at the cafeteria doors, “are we going in, or are we going to stand around all day?”
“Actually, I had something else in mind,” said Adagio, producing the small iron key. “How do you feel about checking out our new workspace?”
“I’m in,” said Aria, “I’m not hungry, anyway.”
“But what about lunch?” asked Sonata.
Adagio gave her a quizzical look. “Didn’t you just have brownies?”
“Oh yeah, I had a ton! I’m so stuffed,” said Sonata, taking a hand off the container and rubbing her stomach. Adagio and Aria stared at her wearing looks of utter contempt.
Sonata blinked.
“Ugh, just come on,” said Adagio, rubbing her temples. She turned on her heel, leading the way towards the small lab area.
“Talking to Sonata is seriously like talking to drywall,” quipped Aria from behind her.
“Who’s Drywall?” asked Sonata, “I don’t think I’ve met her.”
“I take it back, at least drywall doesn’t talk back.”
Aria and Sonata continued to argue back and forth, and though it was a short walk to the lab, Adagio found that, on arrival, she had a pounding headache.
“Alright, enough!” she said, her irritation unhidden. “We’re here.” She fit the key in the lock, opened the door, and flicked on the light.
“What is this place?” said Aria skeptically.
“It looks like a janitor’s closet,” said Sonata.
“It’s not a janitor’s closet,” snapped Adagio, “it’s where we are going to rebuild the device that will allow us to get our magic back.”
“And we’re supposed to do that here?” asked Aria. “This place is a dump.”
“I know, right?” said Sonata, picking some scattered sheets of paper from the floor. “It looks like someone’s already trashed the place!”
Adagio snatched the papers from Sonata’s grasp. “Yes, we’re supposed to do it here, because it’s already been done here. Everything’s been left exactly as it was when the device was created, so don’t touch anything.” She emphasized the last point by slapping Sonata’s hand away from another pile of papers, eliciting a yelp out of the other girl.
“If we’re not allowed to touch anything then how are we going to get anything done?” asked Aria, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Adagio glared at her. “Obviously I didn’t mean it literally, just be careful. Honestly, Aria, sometimes you’re as thick as Sonata.”
Aria growled, and Sonata gave her a haughty smirk.
“What are you looking so smug about, she just insulted you, too!”
“Wait, what?”
Adagio clapped her hands together, startling the other girls into giving her their full attention. “If you’re quite finished, let’s see if we can’t find any clues in this mess. Just try not to destroy anything important.”
And with that, the three Sirens began picking through the clutter that was the lab. It was frustrating work – whoever had worked here before them had been anything but neat. There may, at one time, have been some sort of organization to the stacks of paper and assorted notebooks scattered across every flat surface in the lab, but Adagio’s little outburst the day before had certainly done away with that. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks when she thought about it, and pushed the embarrassing incident to the back of her mind.
“Ugh, this is impossible,” complained Aria, dropping a stack of papers on a desk with a harsh thud. “None of these even mention the word magic, are you sure this is the right place?”
“It is, it has to be, Principal Cinch brought me here personally,” said Adagio. Though she wouldn’t put anything past Cinch at this point, she doubted the woman would lie about something so trivial, yet vital to their arrangement. “Keep looking, there’s got to be something here.”
“Whose dog is this?”
Adagio turned around at the sound of Sonata’s voice, discarding her own pile of papers as she did so. Sonata was staring at the computer monitor, her head cocked at the same angle as the display. That, too, must have happened during the incident.
Aria got there first, adjusting the position of the monitor (and, as a result, Sonata’s head) for proper viewing. “I don’t know,” she said, folding her arms. “But he kind of looks familiar.”
Adagio rolled her eyes. “It’s a dog, they look the same both here and Equestria. It’s just your imagination.”
Aria squinted at the purple-and-green dog. She shrugged. “I guess.”
“It’s asking for a password,” said Sonata, leaning down towards the keyboard. She typed with one finger at a time, and the loud clicking of the mechanical keyboard echoed through the small room.
“What are you doing?” asked Adagio.
“I’m trying to guess the password, duh,” replied Sonata. She froze, and quickly backed away from the computer. “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh?” said Adagio, grabbing her shoulder before she could slink too far away. “What do you mean ‘Uh-oh.’ What did you do?”
“It says: ‘Incorrect password. Attempts remaining: two,’” said Aria, reading from the monitor. “What happens when we run out of attempts?”
“Nothing good,” said Adagio. She cuffed Sonata on the ear, but quickly withdrew her hand as a fresh jolt of pain leapt from beneath her bandages. She tried to play it off, but it appeared that Sonata had finally noticed the white wrapping.
“What happened to your hand, ‘Dagi?” she asked.
“What’s wrong with her hand?” said Aria, looking up from the computer.
“Nothing,” lied Adagio, “it’s fine. New rule: no one touches the computer, at least not until we find a password for it or something. The last thing we need is one of you idiots breaking it.”
“Maybe you’ll be the one who breaks it,” said Aria. None the less, she obediently moved away from the computer.
“That would never happen,” replied Adagio, remembering how she’d almost driven her fist through it the day before. “Besides, it’s time to go.”
“But there’s still, like, fifteen minutes left of lunch!” argued Sonata.
“True, but there’s somewhere I need to be, and I’m the one with the key,” said Adagio. The pain in her knuckles had reminded her that she was supposed to go see Nurse Tough Love about the bandages. With any luck, she might even be rid of them.
“Where do you have to be?” asked Aria, the suspicion clear in her tone. “Got another secret meeting with Principal Cinch that we’re not invited to?”
Adagio sneered at her. “Why, jealous? Green’s not your color, Aria.”
Aria scowled. “Whatever,” she said, a slight flush rising in her cheeks. “Why don’t you just give one of us the key and we can keep working?”
“So you can break something else? Doubtful. Besides, one of you would probably swallow it.”
“Ooh!” said Sonata, her voice suddenly flush with excitement. “I’ve seen that trick! Then, later, you cough it up and unlock a set of hoofcuffs!” She placed her hands on her hips triumphantly. Adagio sighed.
“Case and point. Now, get out so I can lock up.”
The three girls exited the lab, Aria deliberately bumping Adagio with her shoulder as she passed. For a tense moment the two girls locked eyes, daring the other to make the next move. It was Aria who broke first, huffing and flipping her hair as she stomped down the hall. Sonata looked between them, unsure of what to say or who to follow, before finally scampering after Aria when Adagio turned to relock the door.
It always had to be a struggle with Aria, didn’t it? She wasn’t content unless she was picking fights or complaining. Adagio ground her teeth. It was infuriating! Sonata may have been an idiot, but she was at least tolerably stupid – most of the time, anyway – but when Aria got in one of her moods, and she was always in one of her moods, Adagio couldn’t help but wish that only two Sirens made it to this world.
A haze of anger hung over Adagio as she headed to the nurse’s office. Her visit with Tough Love was short, wordless affair, and once her wounds were cleaned and redressed (Tough Love didn’t mention when the bandages would come off, and Adagio was in no mood to try to force it out of him) she was off to her next class. She did her best to take notes, but caught herself more than once scribbling in frustration in the margins of her notebook.
When last period finally rolled around, Adagio found that her persistent rage was just starting to simmer off. It helped that her last class of the day was gym, which under normal circumstances would be one of her least favorite classes, but today was nothing short of a blessing. Not having to listen to a rambling teacher and the opportunity to blow off some steam – what could be better?
Adagio, dressed in her gym clothes and, having just exited the changing room, was taking a moment to survey the gymnasium, when she began to hear a strange noise. It was not unlike the whistling of a kettle in that it was a high pitched squealing, and seemed to be getting closer with each passing second. Adagio looked around frantically, looking for the source of the noise, but by the time she located it, it was too late.
Sonata was already upon her.
“’Dagi!” she cried. Before Adagio knew it, she was wrapped in Sonata’s iron grip and stumbling beneath her weight and the force of the collision. Several other students turned to watch the bizarre scene unfold, which only served to make the situation that much more embarrassing.
“Sonata!” hissed Adagio, struggling to pry the other girl’s arms off her. “What did I tell you about touching me!”
“I dunno,” said Sonata, her voice dripping with faux innocence. She was doing this on purpose! After a few more moments of grappling, Adagio managed to wedge a foot between her and Sonata and used it to pry them apart. Adagio glared daggers at Sonata, who had erupted into a fit of giggles.
“Then let me repeat myself,” said Adagio, brushing herself off. “Don’t. Ever.”
“I couldn’t help it, I was just so excited, I can’t believe we have a class together! Do you think Aria is here, too?” Sonata put a hand over her eyes, shading them from a nonexistent sun, and began looking around the gym.
A fresh wave of irritation swept over Adagio. “I hope not, if she is I might have to strangle her with her own pigtails.”
Sonata laughed. “You sound just like her right now. She was so mad earlier.”
“I don’t sound like her,” snapped Adagio, “and I’m not mad.”
“Yes you do, and yes you are!”
Adagio growled. Maybe she would strangle both of them, after all.
A harsh whistling noise interrupted Adagio’s dark train of thought and caused both girls to clap their hands over their ears.
“New girls: Dusk, Dazzle, front and center!” barked a harsh, unfamiliar voice.
It belonged to a woman Adagio could only assume was the gym teacher. She was a tall, lean woman with blonde hair, and she wore a fitted purple-and-yellow tracksuit with matching shoes. Around her neck hung the offending whistle.
“Listen up, I don’t know how things worked in your old school, but here at Crystal Prep we take physical education seriously.”
Adagio rolled her eyes. Was everyone who worked at Crystal Prep – other than Cadance, of course – this severe? The woman must have noticed, as she shot Adagio a stern look and continued.
“While you’re in my gymnasium you have two options. Number one: you can participate in the group activity that will be going on out here in the main area of the gym. Today we’ll be playing basketball.”
“Pass,” said Adagio, examining her nails.
A vein protruded from the woman’s forehead. “Number two:” she said, barely managing to contain the hostility in her voice, “you can go to the cardio room and work out on one of the machines there. But if I catch either of you slacking off there will be hell to pay; when you walk through that door you take on a debt – a debt that can only be paid in blood, sweat, and tears. That means if I check up on you – and I will check up on you – and find that you’re not giving one hundred and ten percent, I won’t hesitate to fail you right then and there. Any questions?”
Sonata raised her hand. “I’m pretty sure I can’t give more than, like, one hundred percent.”
The gym teacher sneered. “Then you’d better try harder. Now get to it!” She gave two more quick blasts on the whistle, causing the two Sirens to grab for ears once more, before moving on to coach the students who had already begun playing basketball.
“So,” said Adagio, glancing back at Sonata, “cardio room?”
Sonata shrugged, and the pair began their trip across the gymnasium.
The cardio room itself was situated off the gym proper, and was filled with an impressive collection of cardiovascular machinery, all facing a wall mounted television permanently set to a sports channel. The room, while not entirely devoid of other students, was sparsely populated, leading Adagio to believe basketball was the more popular choice of activity, though she couldn’t see why. Who wanted to mindlessly chase a dumb ball around a court, while being simultaneously pursued by a dozen sweaty teenagers? At least in here Adagio didn’t have to interact with anyone she didn’t want to.
Other than Sonata, of course.
The two girls selected a pair of adjacent treadmills to begin their workout and, after a brief period of figuring out how to work the machines, they began to run. Almost immediately, Adagio decided she didn’t care for the treadmill. She’d never understood the appeal of running, and the idea of a machine whose sole purpose was to simulate the running experience without actually getting anywhere perplexed her.
Luckily for Adagio – though she could scarcely believe it – Sonata’s incessant chatter proved to be a much-needed distraction from the mind numbing boredom of the treadmill.
“I just don’t get it,” said Sonata, gesturing towards the television. “They keep advertising it as a sports network, so why are they showing poker?”
“I don’t know,” replied Adagio. Her heart was already pounding. How long had they been running? She spared a glance down at the timer, only to be faced for the first time with one of the inescapable laws of the universe: time moves slower when you’re on a treadmill.
“It’s so weird! Do you think that they think that poker is a sport? That’s what I think.”
“I don’t know.” Dammit, she caught herself looking at the timer again! She put her hand over the display. It didn’t make time go by any faster, but it made her feel a little better.
“You’re doing that wrong.”
Adagio looked up at the sound of the familiar voice, locating its source two rows over sitting at a rowing machine. “Sugarcoat? How long have you been here?”
“I watched you come in, you’re really not very perceptive.”
Adagio’s eye twitched. It wasn’t as if she’d been looking for Sugarcoat, and it wasn’t exactly easy to see her amongst the various machines that filled the room. I’m very perceptive, she thought, obstinately.
“Psst,” whispered Sonata from her other side. “Who is that?”
“That’s Sugarcoat,” replied Adagio, not bothering to whisper. “You’ve met.”
“You thought I was a robot.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember that.” She gave Adagio a pointed look. “I don’t,” she mouthed.
Adagio rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless,” she said, turning her attention back to Sugarcoat. “And what did you mean by ‘you’re doing that wrong,’ how does one run wrong?”
“Well, for starters, you need to take the little red clip and attach it to your shirt, otherwise, if you trip, you’re going to be thrown into the wall and probably break a bone.”
Adagio blinked at her. “I knew that,” she said, subtly fastening the clip to her shirt. Beside her, Sonata did the same.
“Furthermore, you’re running too fast. Unless your plan is to crawl out of here on your hands and knees, you should really slow down.” Adagio stared at Sugarcoat who shrugged, and went back to her rowing. “Or not, it’s up to you.”
Adagio waited a few (admittedly agonizing) moments, before adjusting her speed down to a more sustainable rate. She glanced back up at Sugarcoat, whose lips were now graced with the ghost of a smile.
That girl was an enigma. Sonata had started talking again, probably complaining about the television again, but Adagio tuned her out in favor of watching Sugarcoat. Under normal circumstances, Adagio liked to believe that she was very good at reading people; she’d pegged Principal Cinch as duplicitous and conniving the moment they’d met, and maintaining a good rapport with Cadance (despite her annoying positivity) had paid off in spades. But she had a blind spot when it came to Sugarcoat. While she’d originally pegged the girl as quiet and delicate, she was quickly learning that wasn’t the case. Sugarcoat had a quick wit and was surprisingly blunt when it came down to it, but was it coming from a legitimate desire to help her, or simply to deride her?
And it didn’t stop there. Despite her lean frame, Sugarcoat displayed none of the fragility Adagio had attributed to her. She rowed carefully and consistently, barely breaking a sweat despite the rigorous task she was performing, moving less like a skinny teenage girl and more like a piece of precise clockwork. It was almost hypnotizing to watch.
The remainder of their time in the cardio room went by slowly, though without incident. Eventually, Adagio was able to break out of her self-induced trance and did her best to hold her end of an exceedingly uninteresting conversation with Sonata, who continued to yammer on about whatever happened to be playing on the television at the time. For her part, Sugarcoat seemed content to listen to their conversation, never breaking the rhythm of rowing, but occasionally jumping in to correct Sonata if she said something especially absurd. Adagio didn’t mind, it saved her the trouble of doing it herself.
Sonata was in the middle of critiquing a detergent commercial (“Seriously, who sniffs their laundry?”) when Sugarcoat abruptly finished her rowing and stood up. “Time to go,” she said, and without waiting, exited the room.
Adagio and Sonata were quick to follow – or, at least, would have been, if they’d been able to walk properly. Instead, the two girls made their way, slowly and stiffly, back to the gym, where the other students were finishing their game of basketball.
“Fleur, pass the ball!”
Fleur. Adagio remembered the name, it belonged to the girl who had tripped Sugarcoat. Adagio scanned the court, her eyes quickly falling on a pale girl with shockingly pink hair. She was still in possession of the ball, and had just broken away from a pair of defenders and was barreling down the left side of the gymnasium towards the other basket, the same side where, a few meters ahead of them, Sugarcoat was walking towards the locker room.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Fleur braced herself and slightly altered her trajectory, bringing her into a collision course with Sugarcoat. Their shoulders met, and in an instant the ill prepared Sugarcoat was sent tumbling, her glasses skittering across the wooden gym floor, coming to rest just beneath the foot of a pursuing student. There was a sickening crunch of breaking glass and the splintering of plastic. A little tape wouldn’t fix them this time.
Fleur didn’t stop, though she spared a glance back at her fallen classmate. A cruel, sadistic smile contorted itself across her sharp features as she reveled in the havoc she’d caused. It was a rictus, inhuman grin, revolting and abhorrent as the monster who wore it. Adagio had never spoken to this ‘Fleur,’ but in that moment, she knew everything she needed to.
She hated her.
It was an irrational hate, born of an instant and kindled by other, similar thoughts. Her frustration with Aria, her desire for revenge against Cinch and the Rainbooms, and the strange mix of exultation and confusion left over from her encounter with Twilight Sparkle, all melded together into a volatile brew of emotion.
Fleur drew closer, her cold, uncaring eyes passing over Adagio without a second thought, ignorant to the chain of events she’d unwittingly set in motion. Sugarcoat wasn’t fragile; she was strong. She would endure whatever hardships Fleur threw at her because she was above the pettiness of revenge. Adagio Dazzle was not. And, as the distance closed between them, she felt her own words coming back to her: Either you’re getting stepped on, or you’re doing the stepping.
So, without another thought, Adagio took a step.
It didn’t take much – an onlooker might have even thought it an accident – but there was nothing accidental about what Adagio did next. Fleur’s foot caught on her own and time stopped altogether. Her sardonic glee was gone, replaced with fear and confusion as she threw up her arms in an instinctual attempt to protect her face and head as her momentum brought her crashing unceremoniously to the floor.
Adagio withdrew her foot.
For a moment, the gym was silent save for the bouncing of the wayward basketball. No one dared to breath.
The shrill blast of a whistle ripped through the silence like a knife. The gym teacher – Adagio still hadn’t gotten her name – came sprinting from the opposite end of the gymnasium, coming to rest by the crumpled form of Fleur de Lis.
“Everyone stand back!” she commanded. Fleur rolled over, her cheeks already wet with tears. It wasn’t difficult to see why: her bottom lip was fat and bloody and there was a thin cut on her brow, not unlike the one she’d inflicted upon Sugarcoat, but those were minor compared to what had happened to Fleur’s wrist. It was swollen and purple, but most shocking was the unnatural way it jutted from her forearm. It might even have sickened Adagio had it happened to anyone else. Instead, she merely stared.
“’Dagi,” whispered Sonata, her face stricken with horror, “what did you do?”
Nothing she didn’t deserve, thought Adagio contemptuously. It hadn’t been her intention to hurt her, of course, but that hardly mattered now.
“My wrist!” sobbed Fleur, pitifully. “I think it’s broken!” She looked up at Adagio and their eyes met. “She tripped me!”
“I did no such thing!” lied Adagio.
“I don’t want to hear it!” The gym teacher looked between the two girls. “Dazzle: detention. You’re lucky I’m not getting your parents involved, or worse, Principal Cinch! Fleur, come with me, we’re taking you to the nurse’s office.”
Adagio didn’t argue. It was an idle threat – it was Fleur’s word against hers, and the gym teacher knew it. Detention was a small price to pay for the vengeance she’d exacted… right?
“The game, what about tonight’s game?” blubbered Fleur as she was escorted out of the gym.
Adagio approached Sugarcoat, who sat on the floor clutching what remained of her glasses. Adagio held out a hand to help her up, and after a moment of hesitation, Sugarcoat took it.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said once she was back on her feet.
Adagio rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome,” she said, sarcastically.
“I’m serious. Fleur is – was – one of Crystal Prep’s best basketball players, and there’s a game tonight. If they don’t find a replacement in time they’re going to have to forfeit.”
“So what? As if I care about the results of a dumb game.”
“You might not,” said Sugarcoat, her expression turning dour, “but they do.”
Suddenly, Adagio could feel dozens of pairs of eyes upon her. She looked around at the other students, each of whom glared back with an expression of utter contempt. It didn’t matter to them whether or not there was any proof of Adagio’s misdeed, in their eyes she was already guilty of putting Crystal Prep’s chance of winning – and, thus, its reputation, their reputation – at risk.
“Congratulations, Adagio Dazzle,” said Sugarcoat, “you’re Crystal Prep’s newest pariah.”
Detention was a new experience for Adagio. She had heard of it, of course, the nature of her magic made sure of that, but to be sent there herself was unprecedented. It wasn’t as if she’d never caused any trouble – quite the opposite, in fact – but back then she’d at least had the good sense not to get caught.
Word of Adagio’s encounter with Fleur had spread like wildfire among the students of Crystal Prep, and, true to Sugarcoat’s prediction, Adagio’s reputation was suffering for it. Already she’d received dark looks as she passed through the halls, as well as one or two obscene gestures from some of the more disgruntled students, though not one of them had had the backbone to say anything to her face. Pathetic, but not entirely unexpected.
Any attention is better than no attention, she reminded herself, though this time she wasn’t sure if she believed it.
“We’re here.”
Adagio looked up, pulled from the mire of her thoughts by Sugarcoat’s voice. After they had left the gym she had offered to walk with Adagio to the detention room, and considering how the gym teacher had whisked Fleur away without providing any more details on her punishment, it wasn’t exactly an offer Adagio could refuse.
“A classroom?” said Adagio, placing her hands on her hips. “I expected something more draconic – a dungeon, perhaps. This seems awfully tame for Principal Cinch.”
Sugarcoat merely stared at her, though a more accurate description of the act might have been ‘squinted’ at her. As it turned out, Sugarcoat’s glasses had been far more than just a fashion statement, and without them the girl was very nearly blind. It had fallen to Adagio to pull her out of the way of more than one oncoming student, and even now, as close as they were, it was clear that Sugarcoat could barely see her.
“Are you ready to go inside?” asked Sugarcoat, grasping for the doorknob. She managed to find it on her second try.
Adagio frowned. “Look, I appreciate you showing me the way here, but I think I can manage the punishment part of this on my own. Don’t you have something better to do?”
Sugarcoat shook her head. “I have plenty of better things to do, but the reason I walked you here is because I have detention, too. It made sense to walk together because we were both going to the same place.”
“Wait,” said Adagio, cocking an eyebrow, “youhave detention?”
Sugarcoat nodded.
“You?”
She nodded again.
“What did you do?”
For a moment, it looked like Sugarcoat was going to answer her, but after a long pause she turned back towards the door. “Come on,” she said, “we shouldn’t be late.”
As they stepped into the classroom, Adagio was surprised to learn that she was already acquainted with two of the room’s four other occupants. Indigo Zap leaned back precariously in her chair with one foot resting on the desk before her. A few seats away sat a familiar girl sporting a pink ponytail and cheeks dotted with freckles. Adagio couldn’t remember her name, but she was certain that this was the girl she and the other Sirens had skipped in the shower line on her first day.
With her temper, I suppose I don’t have to wonder why she’s in here.
Adagio didn’t recognize either of the other two girls, one had short purple-and-pink hair and wore a brilliant orange hairclip, and the other had a mop of bright green hair that bobbed up and down to the beat of the thunderous music booming from her headphones.
Three of them looked up as Adagio and Sugarcoat entered (the other girl was either too deafened by her music to hear, or simply didn’t care).
“Sugarcoat, what happened to your glasses?” asked Indigo Zap. She took her foot off the desk and allowed the front legs of her chair to strike loudly against the floor as she leaned forward, pointing an accusatory finger at Adagio. “She didn’t trip you, too, did she?” Adagio supposed it was too much to ask for the news not to have followed her to detention, too.
“No,” said Sugarcoat, taking a seat at the front of the class. “They fell off after Fleur knocked me over and someone stepped on them.”
Indigo Zap looked from Sugarcoat to Adagio. “I’d tell you to do something about it, but it looks like someone else beat you to the punch. So, Dazzle, why’d you do it?”
Adagio’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t respond.
“Don’t be like that, Fleur had it coming, but you couldn’t have waited until after the game tonight? We have a reputation to uphold!”
“So I’ve heard,” growled Adagio through gritted teeth.
“Indigo Zap used to be the captain of the basketball team, until she got kicked off.”
“I wasn’t kicked off, Sugarcoat, I was suspended!” snapped Indigo Zap. Sugarcoat shrugged. “Then they went and made Fleur captain – she’s not even that good! – and now that she’s out, too, they’re scrambling to find someone to make up the numbers. I heard there’s some sort of ‘emergency tryout’ going on in the gym. That’s where I should be right now, not stuck in here with you girls!”
She balled her fists, and for a split-second Adagio thought she might flip her desk over, but instead she let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Whatever, they’ll figure out how much they need me eventually. Anyway, Dazzle, you’ve met me and Sugarcoat, over there are Sunny Flare and Sour Sweet–”
“We’ve met,” hissed Sour Sweet venomously. Sunny Flare scowled right along with her.
“–and in the back, is Lemon Zest. Don’t bother trying to talk to her, she can’t hear a word we’re saying.”
Lemon Zest’s head bobbed obliviously.
“Congratulations, you’re the newest member of the ‘Crystal Prep Academy Breakfast Club.’”
Adagio raised an eyebrow.
“Except we’re not here at breakfast time, making that reference not only dated but inaccurate,” said Sugarcoat. Her hand moved to adjust her missing glasses, but stopped halfway.
Indigo Zap shrugged. “Whatever, point is she’s stuck here, just like the rest of us.”
Their discussion was cut short as the classroom door opened once more, and a tall, well-dressed man with a thick moustache entered. Adagio recognized him to be her History teacher, Professor Blackboard.
“Alright girls, settle down and take a seat. Miss Zest, turn off that infernal music.” But Lemon Zest neither heard him nor acknowledged his presence. Irritation spread quickly across the professor’s features, and without further warning he walked briskly through the rows of desks and snatched the headphones off her head.
“Dude!” cried Lemon Zest indignantly, the color draining from her face when she realized who it was that had interrupted her. “…Do you want to listen?” she asked sheepishly.
Professor Blackboard scoffed, giving her a condescending look before switching off the headphones and returning to the front of the classroom. “It appears we have a new addition to our ranks,” he said, looking directly at Adagio. “I hope, for your sake, that this is a one-time occurrence, frequency of detention is directly reflected in college acceptance rates. That being said, the rules here are simple: no talking, no electronics, you are to sit and consider the actions that led to your being here. You will be dismissed in one hour, starting now.”
Silence fell over the classroom. Adagio’s eyes fell first on Professor Blackboard, passed over each of the other girls in turn, and finally came to rest staring down at the desk before her.
This was stupid. What was there to think about? Yes, she’d tripped Fleur, but it wasn’t her fault that she’d broken her wrist. Done, contemplation over. She glanced up, her gaze lingering for a moment on the back of Sugarcoat’s head.
So, Sugarcoat was in detention. The initial shock behind her, Adagio vaguely recalled something she’d said the day they first met… something to do with ‘insubordination’ at the Friendship Games.
The Friendship Games, thought Adagio. Cadance had mentioned them, too, albeit in passing. She’d said that Twilight was somehow involved in Crystal Prep’s unsatisfactory performance, and now that she thought about it she’d heard them mentioned somewhere else, too. She looked back at Sour Sweet, who stared back at her icily. Of course! When they’d had their encounter in the shower line, someone had accused Sour Sweet of throwing the Friendship Games! She hadn’t given it much consideration at the time, but now things seemed to be falling into place.
Adagio closed her eyes, wracking her brain. If Sugarcoat was being punished for her role in the Friendship Games – and Adagio was fairly certain she was – it wasn’t out of the question that Sour Sweet was, too. What about the other girls? Were they all here because of something that had happened at the Games? And what about Twilight?
Adagio was so deep in her own thoughts that she didn’t look up at the sound of the door opening.
Indigo Zap had lost her position as captain of the basketball team. Was it possible that–
“Adagio Dazzle.”
Principal Cinch’s stiff voice cut through the silence like a knife. Adagio felt her skin crawl at the sight of her standing ominously in the doorway.
“Come with me, please,” she said, her voice betraying nothing of what was going on behind her cold eyes. “Take your bag, you won’t be returning here.”
Adagio’s mouth was suddenly dry. She gathered up her backpack and wordlessly followed Principal Cinch out of the classroom, feeling the burning gaze of the other girls as she walked. Principal Cinch closed the door behind them, and beckoned for Adagio to follow her.
“There is a rumor, Miss Dazzle, that you tripped one of your fellow students, leaving them quite injured as a result. There wouldn’t happen to be any truth to that, would there?”
“No,” lied Adagio. “She wasn’t watching where she was going, tripped, and fell down. I just happened to be standing there when it happened.”
Abacus Cinch’s eyes bore into Adagio, searching for any hint of falsehood. Adagio kept her breathing steady, met her gaze, and prayed that the principal couldn’t hear the rapid pounding of her heart. After what felt like an eternity, Abacus Cinch nodded, produced a handkerchief, cleaned her glasses, and placed them back on the bridge of her nose.
“Very well. Whatever the case may be, we were successful in finding a suitable replacement in time for the game tonight. The reputation of this school – my reputation – is no longer in jeopardy.
“Your story is consistent with the report I received about the incident. You see, Miss Dazzle, I have no interest in unsubstantiated claims or accusations that cannot be supported with facts. But rest assured, should evidence come to light that you purposely assaulted Fleur de Lis – or any other student, for that matter – I would not hesitate to have you removed. But that won’t be a problem, will it?”
Adagio shook her head.
“Good. Now, you still have plenty of work to catch up on, is there anything else you wish to discuss before I allow you to return to it?”
“Yes, actually,” said Adagio. The words had come out before she could stop herself. “Those other girls – why were they in detention?”
Principal Cinch regarded her with an unreadable expression. “As I have told you before, Miss Dazzle, I reward loyalty and excellence, but I do not tolerate treachery or failure. Those girls have forgotten what it truly means to be a Shadowbolt, and for that they are paying the price. I trust that is enough to satisfy your curiosity?”
“It is,” said Adagio. She had been hoping for something to shed light on the mystery of the Friendship Games, but Cinch’s response lead her to believe she was already pushing her luck. She decided to quit while she was ahead.
“Good, then I shall leave you here. Have a productive day, Miss Dazzle.”
Adagio waited until the clicking of the principal’s heels was not but a distant memory before she risked breathing a sigh of relief. Principal Cinch had believed her – or, more likely, had been willing to accept her story. She was safe for another day.
Taking a moment to get her bearings, Adagio found that her walk with Cinch had led her right to Dean Cadance’s door. Convenient, she thought. She raised a hand to knock on the door, paused, switched to her unbandaged hand, and continued the motion.
“Come in,” came Cadance’s voice from inside, muffled by the thick wooden door. Adagio entered.
Cadance’s office might not have been as large as that of Abacus Cinch, but it was a great deal more inviting. Certificates hung on the walls alongside a plethora of framed pictures, some depicting Cadance in a variety of poses and locales, though never without her glowing smile, and others portraying a collection of other, smiling people. Cadance’s friends and family, Adagio assumed. There was a large wooden shelf on one side of the room, packed with books and colorful trinkets, and even Cadance’s filing cabinets were decorated with a plethora of stickers and magnets. Her desk struck a careful balance between messy and organized, and a pair of comfortable chairs sat before it, identical to the one Cadance herself sat in on the other side. The blinds on the room’s singlular large window were pulled back, bathing the room in warm, welcoming sunlight.
“Adagio,” said Cadance, “take a seat, I’ve just got to finish this email and then we can go.”
Adagio studied Cadance closely. There was something about her voice, its usual enthusiasm, while not entirely absent, felt dampened, and her normally effortless smile felt forced and mechanical. Not knowing how to react, Adagio quietly took her seat.
“There,” said Cadance, standing up and straightening her skirt, “done. Are you ready to go?”
There was that strained smile again. “Yeah,” said Adagio uncertainly. “I forgot your umbrella, sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it tomorrow.”
Adagio stepped out of the office and Cadance locked the door, then the two of them began the trek to Cadance’s car. There was no small talk between them, though Adagio occasionally caught Cadance looking at her when she thought she wasn’t paying attention. This continued well into their drive to the library, until finally things came to a head at a red light when their eyes met in the reflection of Cadance’s rear-view mirror.
“Is there something you want to ask me?” asked Adagio. She did her best to hide the irritation in her voice.
Cadance hesitated. “I… I heard you got in trouble at school today.”
So that was it. Cadance wanted to know the truth, and Adagio found herself at a crossroads. Cadance had been kind to her, had helped her, but what would happen if Cadance found out what kind of person she was? The kind of person who would trip some and watch as they writhed on the floor. Would she turn her in? Principal Cinch had cited a lack of evidence, but surely the word of the Dean would mean something, right?
But at the same time, the idea of lying to Cadance sat poorly with Adagio. But was it worth putting her entire future at risk just for the sake of telling Cadance the truth?
Adagio sighed. “A girl, Fleur, tripped up in front of me in gym class. Everyone thought I tripped her and I got detention. But it’s fine, I talked to Principal Cinch and worked everything out.”
Cadance was still staring into the reflection of her eyes. Suddenly uncomfortable, Adagio adjusted her position and looked out the window.
She’d done it, she’d lied to Cadance.
“Okay,” said Cadance.
“Okay?” asked Adagio.
“If that’s what happened,” said Cadance.
“It is,” replied Adagio. She crossed her arms.
The remainder of the car ride passed in relative silence. It wasn’t until they were pulling up in front of the library that Cadance broke the silence one more.
“I almost forgot,” said Cadance, trying her best to sound like her usual, upbeat self, “I got you these.” She reached into her purse and extracted two items: a phone, and a bus card. “School policy says that each student gets exactly one phone on the school’s plan, so try not to lose or break it! And I’m sure I don’t have to say this, but since the phone is in the school’s name, they will have access to any incoming or outgoing messages – that isn’t to say anyone is spying on you or anything, we respect your privacy! – just don’t send anything…”
Adagio raised an eyebrow and Cadance shifted uncomfortably.
“…Never mind. Don’t forget to ask Twilight about bus routes if you two are going to keep doing this. She used to come here from Crystal Prep all the time so I’m sure she has them memorized.”
“Okay,” said Adagio. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” said Cadance. The two shared another long look.
“Well, I’ve got to get going.”
“Alright, see you later.”
“See you.”
Adagio stepped out of the car and began her silent ascent of the library’s steps. An hour ago she’d been proud of what she’d done. Sure, things had gotten a little out of hand, but she’d stood up for Sugarcoat – she’d punished Fleur! It wasn’t her fault that Fleur didn’t know how to fall properly. But now she felt the oh so familiar hollowness and tightening of the knot in her stomach.
It wasn’t my fault, she told herself.
But that wasn’t what was bothering her. It wasn’t Fleur’s face that stared back at her from the shadows cast by the afternoon sun, but a dark facsimile of Dean Cadance, mouthing words that she hadn’t spoken but Adagio had heard loud and clear:
“Adagio Dazzle, I’m so disappointed in you.”
“Is something the matter, Adagio? You seem distracted.”
Adagio looked up from her textbook to find the concerned face of Twilight Sparkle looking back at her. In order to escape the nagging doubts that had plagued her mind since she’d parted ways with Cadance, Adagio had thrown herself into her studies. At first, Twilight had been all for this, but as time went on and Adagio had become more and more withdrawn, she had realized something was wrong.
“Nothing’s the matter,” lied Adagio, “I’m just, you know, studying really hard.”
“Uh-huh,” said Twilight skeptically, and before Adagio knew what was happening, Twilight had snatched the textbook away from her and held it tightly to her chest.
“Hey– Twilight Sparkle, what do you think you’re doing? I was reading that!”
Twilight put on her best look of defiance. “Oh yeah?” she asked, “Then tell me, what’s this page about?”
Adagio paused, drawing a blank, and quickly made up an excuse. “I just got to that one, I haven’t read it yet.” Twilight stared at her and flipped to the previous page. Adagio let out a defeated groan. “Fine, I’m distracted, are you happy now?”
“No, I’m not happy,” said Twilight, loosening her grip on the textbook. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can help.”
“You, help me? Don’t make me laugh.”
Twilight wilted, drawing away from Adagio and looking down at the floor, her eyes glistening. Adagio felt a peculiar sensation in her chest, something someone else might have considered a harsh tug at their heartstrings. It was an entirely new experience for Adagio, and she didn’t like it – not one bit.
She sighed. “I’m sorry, Twilight Sparkle, I didn’t mean that,” she said quietly.
“It’s okay,” said Twilight.
“No, it isn’t okay,” said Adagio, “you were trying to help and I snapped at you.” She took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll tell you, even if it means you’ll think less of me for it.”
“I won’t think less of you,” said Twilight. She leaned in a little closer.
“We’ll see,” said Adagio. Later, she would think back to this conversation and wonder why she’d been so honest and open with Twilight. She would tell herself that it had all been part of the plan, to endear herself to Twilight and ensure her help was secured for the foreseeable future. But the truth, as it usually is, was much simpler: lying to Cadance had been hard, but lying to Twilight… In that moment, it was impossible.
“I saw a girl knock over another girl. It wasn’t an accident, she dropped her shoulder and took her down, hard. And, for some reason, it made me angry. Really angry. I knew the girl wasn’t going to do anything about it, so I stepped in – literally. I tripped her, she fell down, and she got hurt. That wasn’t an accident, either.”
“Was she okay?”
“Which one?”
“Either of them.”
“The first one broker her glasses, but she was okay. The girl I tripped broke her wrist.”
Twilight winced.
“It wasn’t as if I wanted her to break her wrist! I just thought she’d fall on her face, you know, give her a taste of her own medicine.”
“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” said Twilight, frowning.
“But isn’t justice blind?” retorted Adagio. Twilight didn’t respond. “What else was I supposed to do? Just let her get away with it?”
“No, but there are other ways – ways that don’t involve hurting people.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
“I know,” said Twilight. She paused, taking a breath. “But just because we don’t mean for something to happen, doesn’t mean we give up all responsibility for it when it does.”
Adagio watched Twilight closely. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. I used to be terrified of the darkness I felt inside of me – afraid that it would take over. I let that fear control me, and it wasn’t until I realized that the darkness was a part of me – a part of me that I could overcome – that I was truly free of it.”
Darkness. What did Twilight Sparkle know of darkness? If she had any idea of the things Adagio had done… and yet there was something honest her expression as she spoke, and her words – free of hyperbole and tinged with regret – rang true.
“Alright, Twilight Sparkle,” said Adagio, “what would you have me do?”
Twilight put her hand on her chin thoughtfully. “Have you tried talking to Dean Cadance?”
Adagio slumped her shoulders. “I might have told her that I didn’t do it.”
Twilight looked puzzled. “You lied to her?”
“I stuck to my story. I’m already on probation–”
“Academic probation.”
“–doesn’t matter. It means I’m on thin ice, and a screw up like this could have had me thrown out on the street, everything I’ve worked for down the drain.” Adagio’s hands balled into fists. “So yes, I lied to her.”
“Do you really think Cadance would have you thrown out?”
“I had to protect myself,” said Adagio, reflexively. Twilight crossed her arms. “Besides, I don’t think she believed me, anyway. She kept giving me this disappointed look, kind of like the one you’re giving me right now. I can’t get it out of my head.”
Twilight stood up from her chair. “I’m not disappointed in you, Adagio, I’m worried about you.” She circled around the table until she was face to face with Adagio, propping herself up against the table. “You asked me what I think you should do, I think you should start by telling Cadance the truth.”
Adagio scoffed. “But then she’ll know I lied to her.”
“You said it yourself that you didn’t think she believed you. Cadance wants to help you, Adagio, but she can’t do that if you don’t tell her the truth.”
“And what if she thinks I’m a monster for what I did?”
Twilight leaned in again. They were close now, so close that Adagio could and touch Twilight’s face if she wanted. “You’re not a monster,” said Twilight softly.
Oh, if only you knew, Twilight Sparkle, thought Adagio, but deep in her heart she knew Twilight was right. Cadance had been a valuable asset to her, and she had to act quickly to repair the damage she’d caused before that asset was lost to her forever.
But that was just another lie, wasn’t it? She was being honest with Twilight, so why was it so hard to be honest with herself?
“Alright, Twilight Sparkle, we’ll do it your way. I’ll tell her the truth.”
Twilight smiled, and Adagio felt the knot in her stomach loosen ever so slightly. “I’m glad to hear it.” She rested her hands on the table, only to immediately recoil away. “Oh, sorry, I almost leaned on your phone!”
“Careful,” said Adagio, “I already have to tell Cadance I lied to her, I don’t want to have to tell her I broke the phone she got me, too. Especially since I haven’t even turned it on yet.”
“Really?” Twilight examined the phone from its position on the table, then turned back to Adagio. “I could help you set it up, if you want. You know, get the settings right, download some apps…” She bit her lip and averted her gaze. “I have one condition though.”
Adagio cocked an eyebrow. “And that is?”
“I get to peel the plastic off the screen.”
Adagio blinked, then laughed. “Seriously?” she asked in disbelief.
Twilight flushed and refused to meet Adagio’s eyes. “It’s the best part,” she mumbled, tapping the tips or her index fingers together.
“Twilight Sparkle, what am I going to do with you?” Adagio asked, playfully. “If it’s that important to you… go ahead.”
Twilight didn’t need to be told twice. She snatched the phone off the table and held it before her eyes. Carefully, she took hold of the little plastic tab between her index finger and thumb. Then, slowly and purposefully, she began to peel the thin sheet of plastic away from the glass screen of the phone. Adagio had to admit, it was oddly satisfying to watch, but Twilight took satisfaction to another level. The girl was positively trembling with exultation, and Adagio found herself paying more attention to her than the device she was holding.
After an inordinate amount of time had passed, Twilight had finally finished her task. She moved to discard the now useless plastic, only to have it cling stubbornly to her hand. It took several seconds of flailing to finally dislodge the piece of debris, which drifted harmlessly onto the table. Adagio did her best to hide her amusement behind her hand.
“What?” said Twilight, turning an even deeper shade of red and tucking a few strands of loose hair behind her ear.
“Nothing,” said Adagio with a sly grin. “Now, a deal is a deal, show me how to set this thing up.”
Twilight patted the spot on the table next to her and beckoned Adagio over. For both of them to have a good view of the small screen, they had to sit quite close together. Adagio found that it wasn’t uncomfortably close, but she was acutely aware of the occasional brush of skin when their elbows would touch, and a faint floral scent that Adagio could only attribute to Twilight’s conditioner. Lavender, she thought, though she couldn’t be sure.
The initial setup itself was fairly uninteresting, though Twilight’s endearing enthusiasm made it at least somewhat tolerable. From there they moved on to installing apps, and despite Twilight’s instance that several of them were ‘absolutely mandatory,’ Adagio talked her into settling on just one, a program that displayed the local bus routes and overlaid them onto a map of the area.
“Alright,” said Twilight, “now all we have to do is fill out your contact list and we’re done. Do you have any numbers you want to put in?”
Adagio shrugged. “Not really.”
Twilight frowned. “Well, that’s rather anticlimactic.” She paused, and a slight blush crept back into her cheeks. “Well, I mean, if you wanted, we could, you know, put my number in. You could ask me questions about the curriculum and we could coordinate without having to go through Cadance – not that I don’t like going through Cadance, it would just simplify things. But if you don’t want to–”
Adagio held up a hand to silence her babbling. “Twilight Sparkle, just put your number in my phone before you talk me into changing my mind.”
Twilight smiled, and with practiced speed began entering her contact information into Adagio’s phone. “I remember adding my first contact to my phone,” she said as she typed, her voice filled with nostalgia. “It was my brother, and I don’t think he appreciated all the confirmation texts I sent him, which is kind of funny because these days he gets worried when I don’t text him.
“Now, one last thing.” She pressed the phone into Adagio’s hands. “Take my picture.”
“What?”
“For the contact list! Come on, it will only take a second.”
Adagio rolled her eyes, but none the less did as she was told. She stood up and put a little distance between them in order to get Twilight in frame (and, in doing so, nearly backed into the doorknob). She held up the phone, realized the camera wasn’t open, and began swiping through menus hunting for it.
“It’s the icon that looks like a camera,” said Twilight.
“I know what it looks like – there we go, got it.” She lifted the phone up and watched as it automatically focused on the form of Twilight Sparkle seated on the study room table.
“Just a sec,” said Twilight, adjusting her skirt. She proceeded to remove her glasses and began to clean them with the hem of her shirt, the tip of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she worked. It was too much, and before Twilight realized what she was doing, Adagio snapped the photo. And she would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for the audible click of a simulated shutter.
“Hey!” cried Twilight. “I wasn’t ready!”
“Relax,” said Adagio, examining her handiwork, “you have nothing to worry about, it’s perfect.”
“It is? Well, umm, I guess it’s okay then.” A brief moment of silence fell over them. Twilight cleared her throat. “Okay, now all you have to do is send me a text, so I can put your number in my phone, and we’ll be done.”
Adagio took a second to think, typed ‘Hi’ into the text field, and hit send. A few more seconds passed before Twilight’s phone heralded the arrival of the text by vibrating twice in quick succession. Twilight picked it up.
“’Hi’?”
Adagio fidgeted in place. “You’re standing four feet away from me, what was I supposed to say?” Twilight just smiled and typed something into the display. Adagio’s own phone began to vibrate (she nearly dropped it in surprise), and a notification told her she had one unread message from Twilight Sparkle.
It said ‘Hi.’
Another buzz, this time from Twilight’s phone. “Did you–” she began, before cutting herself off. “Oh, it’s from Cadance. She’s outside.”
The apprehension that had been steadily fading out of Adagio’s consciousness while they’d set up her phone was back with a vengeance, and Adagio began to quietly gather her things.
“It’s going to be alright,” said Twilight. She must have sensed her shift in demeanor. Adagio nodded.
“I hope so.”
The sun hung low in the sky as Adagio exited the Canterlot Public Library, painting the city skyline red as it began to set. Another day, Adagio might have found it beautiful, but with her task at hand weighing heavily on her mind she barely took notice.
She heard the distinctive click of electric locks as she approached Cadance’s car. She took hold of the handle on the passenger’s side, hesitated, then pulled. Inside sat Cadance, no longer dressed in her work clothes but still wearing the same not-smile as she had that afternoon.
“How’d it go?” she asked. It might even have sounded cheerful if Adagio didn’t know better. She had to do it now, as she knew that if she waited any longer she would surely lose her nerve.
“Cadance,” she said, steeling herself for what she had to say. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Cadance must have been taken aback by her directness, as she finally allowed her ‘smile’ to fade. “What is it?” she asked.
Adagio worked her jaw, but nothing came out. It was as if her mouth was filled with cotton. Panic began to creep in at the edges of her mind. What was she doing? Cadance might have been nice to her, but she was still the Dean. She would have to report what Adagio did, which would give Principal Cinch the justification she needed to kick her back out onto the streets. Had she crawled her way back from the brink, only to be cast back in? Cadance’s brow furrowed as she awaited Adagio’s response. But what would she say? Cadance had seen through her lie before, what would stop her now? This was it, it was over, everything was collapsing in on itself and–
It’s going to be alright. Twilight’s words reverberated in her head, silencing the whirlwind panicked voices. Adagio took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and released it. She looked Cadance straight in the eyes.
“The truth.”
And so she told the truth. She told her about Sugarcoat, about how she’d seen her in the nurse’s office and about how she’d confronted her in their shared room. She told her about how she’d watched the altercation between Sugarcoat and Fleur, and about how angry it made her to watch Sugarcoat get hurt.
And she told her about how, with a decision made in a split second, she’d hurt Fleur de Lis.
For her part, Cadance sat quietly and listened to what Adagio had to say. It felt as if she’d been talking for hours, and by the end her voice was hoarse and cracking. But she didn’t stop. If she stopped she wouldn’t be able start again, so she kept talking until, finally, she’d said everything she needed to say.
“So, that’s it. I’m sorry for lying to you, Cadance, I just didn’t know what else to do.”
Cadance studied her for a long time, her expression impenetrable, until eventually she spoke. “Why didn’t you think you could talk to me about this?” she asked.
“I didn’t want to get in trouble,” said Adagio. She hung her head. “At least, that’s what I thought, anyway. But more than that, I think I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid of disappointing you. But then I went and did it anyway.”
She felt Cadance’s hand on her shoulder. “Adagio,” said Cadance, “what you did was wrong. You acted out, and as a result someone got hurt. You understand that, right?”
“I do,” said Adagio. She tried to turn away, but found that Cadance’s grip tightened ever so slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep her in place. Adagio was certain she could have shrugged it off if she wanted, but she didn’t.
“Good. We can discuss the situation with Fleur de Lis and Sugarcoat later, but first there’s something that I need to tell you.” Her voice softened. “Whatever happens, no matter how bad you think it is, I don’t want you to ever, ever, think you can’t talk to me about it. Okay?”
“Okay,” said Adagio.
“And next time you see someone getting pushed around in the halls, in the gym, or anywhere else, you don’t take matters into your own hands. You come straight to my office, got it?”
“Got it.”
“I’m here to help you, Adagio, that goes for all the students at Crystal Prep. But I can’t do that if you don’t tell me when something bad happens, and especially when you lie to me about it.” She squeezed Adagio’s shoulder. “So, no more lies.”
“No more lies,” repeated Adagio. She didn’t know if it was a promise she had any hope of keeping, but when she looked up and saw Cadance’s smiling face – real, actual smiling! – she knew she had to try.
The rest of the ride back to Crystal Prep was quiet. Not the cold, uncomfortable silence of the afternoon, but a warm, pleasant stillness. The sun had nearly set by the time they’d pulled up to the dormitory, and Adagio was about to step out of the car when Cadance stopped her.
“Adagio,” she said, and pulled her into a tight, one armed hug. Adagio stiffened, but allowed it to happen. Cadance needed this… and maybe so did she. After a few seconds, Cadance released her.
“Thank you,” said Cadance, “for being honest with me.”
Adagio could feel the Equestrian Magic pouring into her through the pendant on her neck, filling the void she’d felt since she’d first stepped into this accursed world. It lifted her into the air, wrapping her in an aura of pure, unfiltered power that would be the cocoon for her metamorphosis. A pair of equine ears sprouted from her head – a byproduct from the transformative nature of the magic she stole – and a pair of translucent wings grew from her shoulder blades.
This was it. The magic radiated off of her, illuminating the stage with its ominous red glow. The crowd was silent, entranced by the lyrical spell that grew stronger with each passing second. They would be her army, their only desire to serve her and spread her song across the land, and when she’d finished with this world she would move on to her true prize.
Equestria.
Adagio was startled from her thoughts by a distant sound that interrupted her moment of triumph. She scanned the horizon for its source, quickly locating a hilltop that overlooked the stage.
“So, the Rainbooms want to turn this into a real battle of the bands? Then let’s–”
Wait. Something was wrong. A lone figure loomed on the precipice, shrouded in darkness but casting an unmistakable silhouette against the night sky. It wasn’t the Rainbooms that had intervened in her moment of triumph… it was Aria!
Adagio glanced backwards just in time to catch a glimpse of Sonata’s hair disappearing behind a curtain. Her fellow Sirens had betrayed her. Anger welled up within her, and she could feel the magic crackling at the tips of her fingers.
Aria wished to usurp her victory? Well, she was too late! Adagio had never felt power like this before, it coursed through her, begging to be released, and she was only too happy to oblige. She would show them all what happens to those who dared oppose Adagio Dazzle!
Magic pulsed from her amulet, quickly enveloping the stage in its red glow. Adagio held her hands above her head, channeling the power into what would be a single, devastating strike, when the unthinkable happened.
She hesitated.
Aria didn’t. For the first time, Adagio noticed that Aria’s pendant was lit with a sickly green light and, from a spider web of cracks that riddled the once perfect gem, dripped a sinister purple smoke. The smoke, unhindered by the wind, entwined itself around Aria and raised upwards until her shadowy form eclipsed the moon.
Aria opened her mouth and emitted a single, dissonant note. It struck Adagio like a shockwave, striking her from the air and sending her skipping across the stage like a discarded toy, landing in a heap on the floor. Her own music had stopped, replaced by the discordant melody of Aria’s song. Adagio could feel her strength – her magic – being sapped from within her.
No, this couldn’t be happening! Adagio staggered to her feet, opened her mouth to counter Aria’s strange music with a song of her own, but found that she couldn’t make a sound. Panic welled up within her and she he tried again, this time managing a pathetic squeak.
The crowd watcher her struggle impassively, and the smoke began to pool around their ankles as one by one their eyes took on the same green glow as Aria’s pendant. For the first time, Adagio noticed that each and every one of them wore a Crystal Prep uniform.
When the strange magic had spread across the entire crowd, the tone of Aria’s song changed. It grew faster, angrier, and with it the crowd’s demeanor shifted. Their faces contorted in unnatural fury, and in an instant they were rushing the stage, their arms outstretched and their fingers sharpening into long claws.
Adagio took a step backward only to find the curtains were gone, replaced by a sheer drop into a black abyss. Above her, Aria had raised her arms to the heavens, and from the smoke that now completely engulphed her emerged the form of a colossal Alicorn with the eyes of Abacus Cinch.
As the Alicorn raised its horn, repugnant green light bubbling from its tip, the crowd fell upon Adagio, ripping and tearing first at her clothes and then at her flesh. Overhead, the light had congealed into a blinding beam that shot mercilessly towards her.
Adagio screamed.
She shot up in bed, ripping off her covers and gasping for air.
It was a dream, she thought. Her heart beat painfully in her chest and she barely suppressed a wave of nausea. She shook uncontrollably, drenched in a cold sweat that had soaked through her t-shirt and sheets.
It was just a dream, she thought again, it was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was–
“Adagio?”
Adagio’s clammy hand clutched the rail of the bunk bed as she looked over the edge. “Sugarcoat?” she said, her voice trembling pathetically. “What happened?”
“You screamed in your sleep and woke yourself up. It was really sad.”
Adagio groaned and rubbed her forehead. Sugarcoat was right, it was sad. Even now, the details of the dream – the nightmare – were draining from her mind, all except for the image of Aria lording over her, enshrouded in dark magic.
She shook her head. Why did it bother her so much? Sirens didn’t have that kind of magic, and even if they did, the notion that Aria would be better than her at it was laughable… and yet she couldn’t seem to shake it. Was this her mind’s way of dealing with their fight yesterday, or had Aria become so frustrating that Adagio wasn’t safe even in the sanctuary of her own dreams? She did her best to push the notion to the back of her mind and climbed down from the bunk.
Sugarcoat awaited her at the bottom. “You look terrible,” she said bluntly.
“Thanks,” muttered Adagio. She glanced at the mirror, finding to her great annoyance that, once again, Sugarcoat was correct. Dark bags hung under her eyes and her hair was matted with sweat. She sighed, and seeking to look anywhere other than at her own, disheveled reflection, her eyes eventually made their way to the window.
“Ugh, it’s still dark out. What time is it?” she asked.
“About five-thirty.”
“Five-thirty? Sugarcoat, why on earth are you awake at this hour?”
Sugarcoat shrugged. “The showers don’t start getting busy until six, and waiting in lines is a waste of my time.” She gathered her things into a bundle and tucked them under her arm. “Are you coming?”
Adagio hesitated. A little voice in her head told her she should wait for the other Sirens to wake up – they’d waited for her on their first day, after all. But on the other hand, if Aria saw her looking like this…
“Yeah,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, “let’s go.”
The hallway was entirely devoid of students, and silent save for the muffled snoring coming from the door across the hall. Adagio began heading toward the showers when she stopped. Sugarcoat wasn’t with her. She turned around, spotting Sugarcoat standing at the door to their room, fumbling with something in her bag.
“What are you doing?” asked Adagio, in a hushed voice.
Sugarcoat didn’t respond, instead she produced a small, water filled spray bottle and a dingy rag. Adagio was about to repeat her question, when she noticed what was written on the whiteboard.
“’Traitor’,” she read, punctuating the word with a roll of her eyes. “Seriously? Do the students at this school care that much about the results of a stupid game?”
“Yes,” said Sugarcoat, spraying the offending word with the contents of the bottle. One wipe from the rag smeared it across the board, and another removed it completely. Sugarcoat admired her work for a moment, before turning towards Adagio. “But not a basketball game.”
Adagio understood. “The Friendship Games,” she said. Sugarcoat simply nodded, placing the rag and the bottle back into her bag and replacing them with a blue marker. Her handwriting was meticulous, and by the time she was done all evidence of the vandalism was gone. She offered the marker to Adagio.
“No thanks,” said Adagio, after a moment of consideration. She wondered how many times Sugarcoat had had to clean graffiti from the door to her own room, and the feeling it evoked reminded her of how she’d felt just before she tripped Fleur.
Sugarcoat tucked the marker away, and together they made their way towards the showers. They didn’t speak, and although Adagio had a million questions about the Friendship Games, something was telling her that now wasn’t the right time. Instead, she spared Sugarcoat one last glance, their eyes meeting briefly, before stepping into the shower stall and pulling closed the curtain.
She peeled off her sullied nightclothes and stepped into the warm embrace of the shower. Steam filling her lungs and hot water running over her skin, Adagio finally felt as though she was breaking free from the clutches of her nightmare. She allowed herself to forget, for a moment, the long day ahead of her, and concentrate on the few things that had come out of her time at Crystal Prep, and the people that had come into her life.
Although she didn’t realize it, she thought about one of those people even more fondly than the others.
By the time Adagio had finished her shower, Sugarcoat had already left. Students had begun to trickle out of their rooms and into the hall but, fortunately for Adagio, Aria and Sonata weren’t among them. She ducked into her room, dropping off her laundry and picking up her books for the day – as well as Cadance’s umbrella – before quietly slipping out.
A consequence of waking up early was that Adagio had an unusual amount of spare time before her first class. Not wanting to accidentally run into either of the other Sirens after she’d gone through such lengths to avoid them, Adagio decided to spend this time in the one place they wouldn’t be able to reach her: the lab.
She unlocked the door and was greeted by the now familiar musty smell of the small, poorly ventilated room. She took a seat at the desk, inadvertently disturbing the screensaver and revealing the image of the purple-and-green dog. Adagio glared at him, his carefree expression a stark contrast to how he jealously hoarded the secrets locked within the computer. The password attempts had not reset, confirming Adagio’s fear that they now only had two guesses before being permanently locked out.
She felt a flash of renewed annoyance towards Sonata. She couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could she? Adagio took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out. There was no helping it now. Adagio switched off the monitor and pushed the keyboard out of the way to make room for her school books. She might be too tired to make any progress on getting her magic back, but she could at least work on not failing her midterms.
The studying went slowly, but Adagio forced herself to continue. It seemed that each time she ran into a concept she didn’t understand, or whenever the sheer volume of information threatened to overwhelm her, she would encounter a note from Twilight in the margins that would clear things up. It was incredible how, in so few words, Twilight could make even the most complex topics more easily digestible.
But more than just clarifications, Twilight had somehow managed to distill a little piece of herself into the pages of Adagio’s books. She commented on places she disagreed, underlined spelling errors, and occasionally interjected with some of the dorkiest jokes Adagio had ever read. It might have been silly, but Adagio couldn’t deny that there was something charming about Twilight’s delivery, and found herself smiling whenever she came across her (admittedly atrocious) handwriting.
Twilight had, of course, asked for permission before annotating Adagio’s books. Adagio had agreed – she hadn’t paid for the books, after all – but was none the less surprised at the progress Twilight had made. They’d only had two sessions together, and of those sessions a considerable amount of their time had been spent talking. When had Twilight had the time to do all this? Adagio flipped further through the book, finding that Twilight’s notes stretched far beyond the material she was currently covering.
That girl is incredible, Adagio thought, closing the book. She checked the time on her phone – by far the most convenient feature of the device – and found that it was almost time for classes to begin. She looked at her array of books spread out over the desk, grabbed what she needed for her first class and left the rest behind. Why not? It wasn’t as if anyone else would come in here, and some of those textbooks were really heavy! Proud of her own cleverness, Adagio proceeded to switch off the light and relock the door, leaving in a better mood than when she’d arrived.
This mood was dampened somewhat by the classes themselves. In contrast to Twilight Sparkle’s very personal style of teaching, the teachers of Crystal Prep came across as extremely cold and distant. It felt as if they lectured at the students instead of to them, and though everyone around her seemed to be diligently taking notes, Adagio found it difficult to follow along. By the time her three morning classes had finished, Adagio was armed with pages of questions to ask Twilight when next they met.
But when were they meeting next? The implication had been that their afternoon meetings were to be a regular occurrence, but they’d never officially confirmed anything. What if Adagio went all the way to the Canterlot Public Library, only to find that Twilight Sparkle wasn’t there?
Fortunately, the solution to this problem was sitting Adagio’s backpack. She returned to the lab, switched on the light, and dumped the contents of the bag out onto the desk. The phone Cadance had given her – her phone, she corrected – slid out onto one of the books and Adagio scooped it up. She sat down in the office chair, opened her contacts, and selected the only name on the list.
Their ‘conversation’ from the day before opened on the screen before her, and Adagio quickly set about her business. ‘Twilight Sparkle,’ she typed, ‘are we still meeting at the library today?’
She stared at the text for a moment, then deleted it.
‘Are we still meeting up later?’
Too open ended. She deleted it again.
‘Hey, Twilight Sparkle, it’s Adagio–’
Obviously. She started over.
‘I was just wondering–’
She erased that, too. Why was texting so hard? The pattern of writing and erasing text messages continued for some time, until eventually Adagio had stopped typing all together and was simply spinning in the revolving chair, staring at her phone. This self-imposed stalemate would have likely gone on for even longer, if not for the appearance of an ellipsis in a small bubble at the bottom of her screen. Adagio had only a moment to ponder the meaning of this strange new icon, before it was replaced with a text from Twilight Sparkle.
‘Hey,’ read the text, ‘how did things go with Cadance last night?’
Adagio began to type, her texting paralysis suddenly gone.
‘Good, I told her what happened and she seemed happy that I was honest with her.’
‘That’s great! I’m glad everything worked out between you two. I was going to ask you about it last night, but I wasn’t sure what time you got home, or if you’d want me bothering you about it.’
‘You don’t bother me, Twilight Sparkle,’ Adagio typed. ‘Anyway, I have a question to ask you.’
There was a pause. ‘What is it?’ Twilight responded.
“Alright, Dazzle, get it together,” Adagio said to herself. ‘We didn’t talk about it yesterday, but I just wanted to confirm we were still on for the library today.’
Adagio was prepared to wait for Twilight’s response, when she was startled by a loud series of knocks at the door.
“Open up, Adagio!” came Aria’s voice from the other side. “We can see the light on under the door!”
Adagio’s mood darkened significantly as she set her phone down on the desk and stood up to answer the door. Outside stood Aria, arms crossed and wearing an expression of unhidden irritation. Behind her, Sonata leaned against a set of lockers, but quickly stood up straight when she noticed Adagio.
“Told you she’d be here,” said Aria. Looking at her, Adagio couldn’t help but be reminded of the ghastly facsimile she’d seen in her nightmare. She reminded herself that that version of Aria was a figment of her imagination, but remained on edge none the less.
“’Dagi!” cried Sonata, pushing past Aria. “Where were you this morning? We knocked on your door, like, a hundred times!”
Adagio could feel Aria’s gaze upon her, but kept her eyes on Sonata. “I woke up early,” she said dismissively.
Sonata visibly deflated. “And you didn’t wake us up? Or wait for us?”
“I woke up really early,” replied Adagio. “Besides, I wasn’t going to wait around for hours.”
“Maybe you didn’t have to wait, but I did!” said Sonata, puffing out her cheeks, sulkily. “Aria knew someone at the front of the line who let her cut, but I had to go to the back!” She leapt forwards and grabbed Adagio’s shoulders. “In the back, ‘Dagi! I thought we didn’t wait in lines!”
Adagio shrugged her off, fixing her eyes on Aria. “Someone let you cut the line?”
“Yeah,” said Aria, meeting her eyes defiantly. She didn’t elaborate, so Sonata did it for her.
“It was one of the girls on the basketball team—” she cut herself off abruptly. “Wait, you don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Sonata–” started Aria, but it was too late.
“Aria’s on the basketball team!”
Adagio blinked at Sonata, before turning back to Aria, her lips forming a wry smile. “You’re on the basketball team?”
A blush rose in Aria’s cheeks. “You idiot, Sonata, I told you not to say anything!” she snapped.
“She’s really good, ‘Dagi!” continued Sonata, undeterred. “I was at the game yesterday, she scored a bunch of times and they won!”
“I’m sure she was excellent,” cooed Adagio, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The very idea of Aria running up and down the court chasing a ball with a group of humans was endlessly entertaining to her – nothing at all like the Aria of her nightmare (who, Adagio reminded herself, still did not exist). But the news that Crystal Prep had won the game was welcome, and even explained why the other students had been less outright hostile towards her that morning, instead opting for cold indifference.
“You’re lucky we won,” said Aria, suddenly getting some of her nerve back. “I heard what happened between you and Fleur de Lis yesterday. You should be thanking me for cleaning up your mess for you.”
“You’re so right!” said Adagio. “Thank you so much for saving me from the wrath of a bunch of teenagers! In fact, you did so well in your little game, I can already feel our magic coming back to us!”
Sonata gasped. “Really?”
Adagio dropped her faux enthusiasm. “No.”
“Right, I knew that,” said Sonata, doing a poor job of hiding her disappointment.
Aria worked her jaw. “Whatever,” she said, “are you going to let us in, or make us stand out here all day?”
Adagio realized she’d been unconsciously blocking the door. She turned around and headed back to her seat. “Do what you want.”
Sonata followed her in and, after a moment of hesitation, so did Aria, allowing the door to close behind them. A short silence fell over them, which was broken by two blasts of vibration from Adagio’s phone, causing all three of them to jump.
“What was that?” asked Sonata.
Adagio snatched the phone up off the desk. “Nothing,” she said.
“It’s not nothing,” said Aria, “it’s a phone. When did you get a phone? And who would want to talk to you?”
Adagio caught Sonata trying to sneak a peek at the screen of the phone, and placed it in her lap facing downward. “I got it yesterday, and who I talk to is none of your business. Maybe you should get one, you can use it to talk to the basketball team, because clearly they’re really important to you.”
Aria snarled, and for a split second she looked like her nightmarish doppelgänger. “Maybe I will,” she spat.
“Me, too!” said Sonata. “…Where do I get one?”
But Adagio and Aria weren’t paying attention. “Why do you even care if I’m on the basketball team?” asked Aria venomously. “Are you just jealous that I’m good at something and you’re not?”
Adagio scoffed. “Why would I be jealous that you can throw a ball in a hoop? You can do whatever you want, meanwhile I’ll be working on getting our magic back!”
Aria rolled her eyes. “Right, because that seems to be going so well. Maybe if you actually talked to us instead of disappearing all the time we’d actually be getting somewhere!”
“Girls–” Sonata interjected, but she was cut off again by the increasingly heated argument.
“Talking to you two is an exercise in futility,” said Adagio. “I don’t hear you coming up with any brilliant plans!”
“You don’t hear them because you don’t listen!” shouted Aria. “If you didn’t think of it then you immediately write it off. You think you’re so smart, but you don’t let anyone else think! If I was in charge–”
Adagio crossed her legs. “Oh, this will be good.”
Aria threw up her arms in frustration. “Why do I even bother? You know, Sonata wanted to look for you because she thought you might be sick or something, but I knew you’d be here. Because you do whatever is best for Adagio Dazzle, and the rest of us can go straight to Tartarus! If it weren’t for you–”
Adagio stood up, her fists clenched so tightly that, if she wasn’t so caught up in the argument, she might be worried about crushing her phone. “If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be here!” she declared.
“You’re right,” yelled Aria “we’d be in Equestria!”
Silence fell in the wake of Aria’s declaration. The two Sirens glared at each other fearsomely, their eyes locked together in a silent battle of wills. It was Aria that broke first, turning on her heel and, without another word, stomping to the door and slamming it closed behind her, the sound echoing through the small room.
“’Dagi…”
“Go with her, Sonata,” spat Adagio, her eyes still fixed on the spot where Aria had been. “I have some things I need to finish. Alone.”
Sonata gave her a long, worried look, opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. She walked to the door, paused again, then opened it and walked out. The last thing Adagio saw of her was a glimpse of her hair disappearing into the hallway.
It was a long time before Adagio was able to tear her gaze from the door and turn back to her books, but when she did, she found that not even the words of Twilight Sparkle were enough to calm her.
Riding the bus was stressful.
No longer at the mercy of Cadance’s schedule, Twilight had suggested that the pair meet a little later than usual – five o’clock instead of four – and offered to stay out longer as compensation. Adagio, having nothing better to do that evening, had accepted. She’d passed the time in the lab, studying and trying not to think of Aria’s stupid face, before eventually making her way to the bus stop.
The halls were, for the most part, empty when Adagio was leaving, and similarly she was the only one at the stop when the bus arrived.
Two minutes late, she thought bitterly as the doors opened. She stepped on board, scanning her bus card at the small terminal which beeped and flashed a green light. The driver didn’t even look at her, nor did he wait for her to sit down before he started to drive. The sudden lurch of motion caught Adagio off guard, and forced her to grab one of the metal poles that ran up and down the length of the bus for support. She shuddered, wondering how many people with their filthy, unwashed hands had touched the pole before her, and quickly wiped her hand on her skirt.
Unlike the school, the bus was densely packed with people of all sizes, colors, and ages. She pushed her way to the back and, in a much-needed turn of fortune, found an available seat by the window. She sat down, placed her bag on her lap, and pulled out her phone.
‘I’m on my way,’ she texted to Twilight, before opening the app that Twilight had downloaded for her and watching the little, pulsing dot slowly work its way across the city and towards the Canterlot Public Library. It wasn’t a short trip, and the other passengers slowly trickled out until only a sparse few remained. This pleased Adagio, who placed her bag on the seat next to her and claimed the suddenly available legroom.
Things seemed to be going reasonably well, until Adagio heard a commotion coming from the font of the bus. A pair of boys, high school age but younger than Adagio, were in the process of paying their fare with a large quantity of small coins. They talked loudly, their voices like nails on a chalkboard, and once they’d finally scrounged enough money they began the process of choosing seats, pushing and shoving as they went. Adagio had already dismissed them and turned back to her phone when something they said caught her attention.
“Hey,” said the portly orange haired boy, doing a poor job of keeping his voice low. “Isn’t that one of the Dazzlings?”
Adagio froze. She chanced another glance at the boys, the lanky green haired one was now propped up on his knees, surveilling the bus.
Wait, she thought, I recognize them. She hadn’t realized it at first from the lack of backwards hats and stupid glasses, but the aura of stupidity radiating off them was unmistakable. This pair of idiots had performed at the Battle of the Bands, and what was worse, they recognized her.
“Uh, where?”
Or one of them did, anyway.
“Right there, you idiot! In the back!”
The taller one shoved the portly one. “Don’t call me an idiot, Snips!”
Snips groaned. “Fine, Snails, but keep your voice down, she’ll hear us!”
Too late for that.
Snails scanned the bus once more, and Adagio buried her face in her phone. “Is she behind the pretty girl in the Crystal Prep uniform?”
Adagio gagged.
Snips blinked at him. “How would someone be behind her, if she’s at the back of the bus?”
“I dunno,” said Snails.
“Because she is her!” exclaimed Snips.
“Oh,” said Snails. “But the Dazzlings go to Canterlot High, not Crystal Prep.”
“Yeah, but when was the last time you actually saw any of them?”
Snails scratched his head. “The Battle of the Bands, I guess. Huh.”
“The Battle of the Bands was weeks ago,” said Snips. “Maybe they go to Crystal Prep now?”
Snails squinted at her. “Are you sure she’s a Dazzling?”
“Pretty sure, who else has hair like that?” He paused. “Wait, I have an idea! Give me your phone.”
“Use your own phone,” said Snails, clutching his phone to his chest.
“I can’t, my mom took it away because I used too much data!”
“That’s rough, buddy.”
“Listen! We can take her picture and send it to Sunset Shimmer, she’ll know whether or not she’s a Dazzling! You still have her number, right?”
Adagio abruptly stood up and pulled on the yellow cable next to her seat. There was a chiming sound and the ‘Stop Requested’ sign at the front of the bus lit up in red light. The bus was about to pass the next stop, forcing the driver to throw on the breaks, sending all the passengers lurching forward. Adagio grabbed her bag and quickly walked down the aisle.
“Crap, she’s leaving, quick, Snails, take the picture!”
But it was too late, Adagio was already off the bus.
She walked hurriedly down the sidewalk, consulting her phone. She was a little over a block away from the library, but a little walking was well worth her escape from Snips and Snails, and more importantly, Sunset Shimmer.
If Sunset found out she was attending Crystal Prep, it would only be a matter of time before she found out about Adagio’s arrangement with Twilight Sparkle. That couldn’t be allowed to happen, she still needed Twilight… to help her get her grades up, of course.
Adagio took a deep breath. There was nothing to be done about it now. With any luck, Snips and Snails would forget they ever saw her long before they had the chance to mention it to Sunset, and in the meantime, she intended to get the most out of her time with Twilight.
“Adagio, hey!”
Adagio had just mounted the library steps when she heard the call. Turning around, she saw Twilight Sparkle, having just rounded the corner on the opposite side of the library. Adagio looked around, confirming that there wasn’t anyone else around, and waved.
“Hello, Twilight Sparkle,” she said, a genuine smile flickering across her face. “It seems that I got here before you, for once.”
Twilight grinned. “Not yet, you haven’t. Race you to the top of the stairs!” Twilight hooked her thumbs into the straps of her backpack and began leaping up the stairs two at a time. Adagio rolled her eyes, laughed, and followed her at a leisurely pace to the top of the stone steps. When she arrived, Twilight was standing triumphantly at the top… or might have been, if she wasn’t gasping for air with her hands planted firmly upon her knobby knees.
“I… win,” she panted.
“Congratulations,” said Adagio, sarcastically. “Do you need a minute?”
“No,” said Twilight. She stood up straight, wobbling in place. Adagio placed her hand on her shoulder to steady her. “There’s a lot I’m hoping to cover today, so I hope you’re ready to work!”
“I’ve been looking forward to it all day,” said Adagio.
She set down her pencil and leaned back in her chair. “Done.”
Twilight looked up from the book she’d been reading, a blue pen tucked behind her ear. “Done?” Adagio nodded. “Can I see?”
Adagio slid the small stack of paper over to Twilight for inspection. Twilight picked it up, adjusted her glasses, and began to read. Adagio massaged her aching hand and watched Twilight’s eyes dart rapidly across the pages. One might think that, reading so quickly, she might miss something, but Adagio could now say for absolute certain that wasn’t the case.
Twilight finished reading and set the paper down on the table.
“Well?” asked Adagio. “What do you think?”
Twilight smiled. “It’s really good, Adagio!”
Adagio sighed in relief. “It better be, you made me write it three times.”
“But…” Adagio shot Twilight a dangerous look. “Kidding, kidding!” Twilight laughed and Adagio shook her head, not quite able to hide the grin that tugged on the edges of her lips.
“You’d better be,” she warned, standing up from the chair and stretching. “I’m still not sure what was wrong with the first two.”
“They were alright,” admitted Twilight, reaching into her bag and extracting a stapler, “but I knew you could do better.”
“You knew?” asked Adagio. “How?”
Twilight shrugged. “I just knew.” Twilight stapled the pages together at the corner, having to use both hands and throw her weight into the equation to get the staple through all six pages of the essay plus the cover page. She held them out to Adagio, who reached out to grab them, when their eyes met and the world froze.
It felt as if Twilight Sparkle wasn’t just looking at her, but into her. She felt exposed, but not judged, vulnerable, yet safe. She might have been able to process the moment they were sharing, perhaps even begin to understand the feelings that were welling up within her, if her mind had not gone blank save for one, single thought.
Twilight Sparkle had very pretty eyes.
A loud knock at the door lurched Adagio back into reality. She took the papers from Twilight, making a show out of tucking them into her backpack as an excuse to hide the blush that had lit up her face like a Hearth’s Warming lights.
What just happened? And why did her stomach suddenly feel like it was filled with butterflies?
Twilight had moved over to the door and opened it, revealing the old librarian standing at the other side. She cleared her throat. “Oh, Mr. Bookend, is there something I can help you with?”
Mr. Bookend squinted at her through his thick, round spectacles. “Ah, yes, Twilight Sparkle. I just came up to tell you that it’s about time for me to lock up.”
“I don’t understand. The library usually closes at midnight, and it’s only–” Twilight checked her phone and her eyes widened, her pupils narrowing into pinpricks. “Oh no, we must have lost track of time! I’m so sorry, Mr. Bookend, we’ll pack up right away!”
The old man waved his hand dismissively. “Take your time,” he said, wearing a smile that seemed to make his wrinkles even more pronounced. “It’s good to see young people so enthusiastic about learning. I’ll be waiting at the checkout counter when you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bookend,” said Twilight.
The librarian nodded and closed the door.
“I guess I’ll check what time my bus will be here,” said Adagio, still unable to look at Twilight.
“The busses stop running at twelve,” said Twilight. “And I have three missed calls from Shiny. I knew I shouldn’t have put my phone on silent!”
“So why did you?” asked Adagio. “And who’s Shiny?”
“Shining Armor,” said Twilight, “he’s my brother. And I didn’t want it going off while you were writing your paper. Hold on, I need to call him and let him know I’m okay.” Twilight stepped out of the room, leaving Adagio alone with her thoughts.
No, not with her thoughts. She continued packing things into her bag, being careful not to crush her history paper or to think about Twilight Sparkle. Not that there was anything to think about. She pushed aside Cadance’s umbrella to make room for more books, cursing herself for forgetting once again to return it. And just like that, she wasn’t thinking about Twilight anymore.
Dammit.
But what was there to think about, anyway? She just felt… weird. But of course she did, she’d been up for seventeen hours! She got in a fight with Aria! She’d just finished writing the same paper three times! She didn’t need to justify anything to anyone, and whatever feelings she thought she might have felt for a split second were just a product of her overactive imagination.
Yes, that had to be it.
Adagio had just finished collecting her things when Twilight returned looking flustered.
“How’d it go?” asked Adagio, who was relieved to find she could once again look at Twilight Sparkle. Not that she had any particular desire to look at her, of course.
Twilight sighed and began sweeping her books unceremoniously into her backpack. “He was more relieved than mad, which made me feel even worse about making him worry. He said he’s going to come get us now, but it’ll probably take him about a half hour to get here.”
Adagio raised an eyebrow. “Us?”
“You didn’t think we’d make you walk home alone in the dark, did you?”
“No, but–”
“No buts!” said Twilight, silencing Adagio’s opposition. “Now, I don’t want to make Mr. Bookend wait any longer than he already has.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Adagio.
The two girls left the study room and went down the stairs to the main floor. Most of the lights had been turned off for the night, shrouding the library in an eerie blanket of darkness. The librarian waited for them by the door, standing in a beam of light that gave him an almost supernatural quality. Twilight thanked him again for his patience, and the two girls stepped outside.
And into the rain.
“Oh no!” cried Twilight, holding her bag above her head, before immediately reversing her position and clutching the bag to her chest. “My books!” she exclaimed.
“I’ve got it,” said Adagio, ripping open her bag and pulling out Cadance’s umbrella. She wasted no time opening it, and without thinking grabbed Twilight by the arm and pulled her under the umbrella.
Their noses almost touched, and for a moment Adagio could feel Twilight’s breath on her face. For the second time that night, her brain went blank.
“Are you girls going to be alright out here?”
The voice startled Adagio. “Oh,” she said, taking a step back, “um–”
“We’ll be okay, Mr. Bookend,” said Twilight, “My brother’s on his way to pick us up.”
“Right,” said Adagio, “what she said.”
Smooth.
“Well alright then. Have a good night, girls.”
“Good night.”
“’Night.”
The librarian disappeared into the night, leaving the two girls alone with the rain.
Twilight slipped her arms into the shoulder straps of her backpack, and placed a hand on the shaft of the umbrella as rain pitter-pattered against the canopy overhead.
“So,” said Twilight, breaking the silence. “I didn’t really picture you as a ‘pink umbrella’ kind of girl.”
“What?” asked Adagio. “Oh – right. It belongs to Cadance, she loaned it to me and I was supposed to give it back. I’m sort of glad I forgot, to be honest.”
“Me too.”
There was a long pause.
“I think we should make this thing official,” said Twilight.
Adagio blinked. “What?”
“Well, we can’t be going to midnight every night, and we shouldn’t have to text back and forth every day to confirm that we’re going to have a session, so I thought setting an official, definitive time slot would be the best option.”
“Oh,” said Adagio.
“But if you don’t want to–”
“No – I mean, I do, it’s just…” she sighed. “It’s been a long day.”
“Sorry about that,” said Twilight, sheepishly.
“Don’t be,” said Adagio, “coming here with you has been the best part of my day.” She scuffed the ground with the toe of her shoe. “My past few days, really. Even if you can be a little bit of a taskmaster.”
Twilight laughed. “I stand by my methods! But thanks for telling me. If we’re being honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt when Cadance asked me to tutor you. I feel like I still have so much to learn, but now I’m supposed to be teaching someone else? I almost turned her down, but something inside me told me to give it a try… and I’m glad I did. I knew I made the right decision the second I saw you.”
Adagio was reminded of when she’d first seen Twilight, and decided not to mention the part where she thought she’d walked into a nightmare.
“But I almost forgot,” continued Twilight, “we were figuring out a time for these sessions.”
“Right, that’s what we were doing.”
“I was thinking of going back to four to six. We can go a little later if we want, but I don’t want to get you in trouble for breaking curfew.”
Curfew?
“If we’re going get you ready for your midterms we’re going to have to keep meeting as frequently as possible. We’ll stick to weekdays for now – I won’t take your weekends from you! – but after midterms are done we can move to a more relaxed schedule.”
“Okay,” said Adagio.
“Good!” said Twilight. “I’m glad we got that settled. And look, here comes Shiny now!”
A car pulled up at the bottom of the stone steps and beeped its horn twice. The two girls, each with a hand on the umbrella, slowly made their way down the slick steps, pausing when they reached the car.
“It’s okay,” said Twilight, reassuringly. “He knows you’re coming.”
They climbed in, Twilight in the front and Adagio in the back. Shining Armor sat in the driver’s seat, but bent over as if to move something from the seat beside him. He had short, two toned blue hair, a strong jaw, and pale white skin.
“Hey, Shiny, and Spike! What are you doing here?”
Adagio cocked an eyebrow. Spike?
“He was worried about you, and so was I,” said Shining Armor. “Your friend isn’t allergic to dogs, is she?”
Twilight looked at Adagio, who shook her head. “Nope, we’re all good.”
“Good, in that case Spike can sit in the back with her.”
“Twilight!” come another voice from the front of the car. “I missed you so much! It felt like you were gone forever.”
Twilight laughed, and Adagio tried to figure out who the other voice was coming from. “You always say that!”
“Twilight,” said Shining Armor, “remember what time it is?”
“Right, okay, Spike, up we go!”
Twilight lifted Spike into the air, placing him next to Adagio in the back seat. As it turned out, Spike was a dog. But not just any dog.
A purple-and-green dog.
“Hi,” he said, wagging his tail, “I’m Spike!”
“Guh,” said Adagio, her brain struggling to process what had just happened.
“Twilight,” said Spike, his voice laced with concern. “I think your friend is broken.”
“You forgot to mention your dog could talk, didn’t you, Twily?”
Twilight whirled around in her seat. “I’m so sorry!” she said. “You went to CHS, and – I just thought–” she bit her lip. “He can talk,” she finished, lamely.
She looked between Spike and Twilight. Spike was the purple-and-green dog. The purple-and-green dog was the background image for the computer in Adagio’s lab. That computer had belonged to the former Crystal Prep student who had not only used that lab, but had created a device there that trapped and stored magical energy. Spike belonged to Twilight Sparkle.
Twilight Sparkle created the device.
Of course she had, who else could it have been? No one at Crystal Prep – perhaps no one Adagio had ever met – was as passionate or intelligent as Twilight Sparkle. Dots were starting to connect themselves in her head. Twilight had been at Crystal Prep until the Friendship Games, where something had happened that had turned the school against her and the ‘Crystal Prep Breakfast Club’. That was where the device had been broken – Adagio was sure of it! – but that wasn’t enough, she still needed more information, she needed–
“Adagio?”
She blinked. Twilight, Spike, and Shining Armor were all staring at her.
“Talking dog,” she said, feigning astonishment. “Wow.”
There was a collective sigh of relief from the group. “You really need to warn people about that, Twilight,” scolded Shining Armor. “We don’t need a repeat of what happened with Mom and Dad every time you introduce him to someone.”
Twilight laughed sheepishly.
Spike sidled up right next to Adagio. “I may be more intelligent – not to mention handsome – than other dogs, but I’m still a dog. And we dogs like getting scratched behind the ears.” He tapped a paw against his head. “Right here, if you please.”
“Spike–” started Twilight.
“It’s fine,” said Adagio, indulging him.
“Oh yeah,” said Spike, “that’s the stuff.”
Twilight shook her head, and turned back towards the front of the car. Shining Armor took this as a cue and pulled out onto the road. The car was silent save for the pounding of the rain on the windows, the rhythmic beating of the windshield wipers, and the occasional sigh of contentment from Spike.
The trip back to Crystal Prep seemed to go by in a flash, and by the time they’d arrived Adagio knew exactly what she had to do. She bid a quick goodbye to Twilight and her brother (and Spike), before running all the way up the stairs and to her room. She fumbled with the key, dropping it twice before finally managing to get the door open.
“Adagio?” said Sugarcoat. She was sitting in bed, her blanket pulled up to her midriff and a book laying open on her lap. “Where were you? Curfew was hours ago, and your blue-haired friend was looking for you earlier–”
“That doesn’t matter,” said Adagio, cutting her off. She must have looked crazy, barging into their room in the middle of the night. She hadn’t even bothered to use the umbrella in her hurry to get inside, so not only was she late, she was soaking wet. But she didn’t care. “Sugarcoat,” she said, grabbing one of the desk chairs and pulling it up next to the other girl. “I’m going to ask you something, and it’s extremely important that you tell me everything you know about it, got it?”
Sugarcoat’s brow furrowed.
“I need you to tell me exactly what happened at the Friendship Games.”
It had taken nearly an hour all told, but in that time Adagio learned everything she needed. Sugarcoat had talked her through the mundanity of the initial games, the narrowing down of the competitors, and the ‘tricross relay’ where magic had begun to run amok. She spoke of how the students of Canterlot High – the Rainbooms, no doubt – had manifested magic of their own that had indirectly lead to a CHS victory, and how, in desperation to win, Principal Cinch had turned to Twilight Sparkle and her magic-stealing amulet in order to even the playing field. But Adagio never would have guessed what had happened next.
Twilight Sparkle had turned into a demon.
The idea was preposterous, and yet there was no hint of embellishment in Sugarcoat’s words. Swallowed up by a singularity of pure, untethered magic, Twilight Sparkle had been transformed into a malevolent creature with the all-consuming desire for knowledge and magic. From the way Sugarcoat told it, the creature – Midnight Sparkle she’d called it – might have torn apart the very fabric of the world, if it weren’t for Sunset Shimmer and the Rainbooms.
Sugarcoat hadn’t referred to them as ‘the Rainbooms’, of course, but her description of them was enough. Adagio had firsthand experience with their particular brand of magic, but hearing about how Sunset Shimmer had harnessed the very same magic that had transformed Twilight into Midnight Sparkle, and used it to do battle with her (and, eventually, win) in the skies over Canterlot High intrigued her. So, the magic gathered by this device could, if used correctly, be controlled. This was good. She was certain that, if she was able to recreate the device, she could draw on its magic, much as she had with her old pendant. She would be as – if not more – powerful than she’d ever been.
But something still nagged at her. Perhaps it was how Sugarcoat’s description of Midnight Sparkle reminded her of the shadowy simulacrum of Aria from her nightmare, or the idea of someone as intelligent and composed (not to mention sweet, good natured, dorky…) as Twilight Sparkle could have been so easily corrupted. Whatever it was, Adagio did her best to push it to the back of her mind. This device was everything she could have asked for and more, and Adagio had a backdoor into the mind of its creator.
And she’d already figured out how to use it.
The idea had come to her before she’d stepped out of Shining Armor’s car. She would read Twilight’s notes on the device, sneak the concepts she didn’t understand into her own study material, and have Twilight Sparkle teach her everything she needed to recreate the device without being any the wiser. She would have to be cautious, Twilight Sparkle was the smartest person she’d ever met, but Adagio was certain that, if she was careful, Twilight would never suspect a thing.
And why would she? Twilight had no reason to believe that Adagio wanted anything more from her than to help her improve her grades – until that night it had even been true! She’d thought that employing Twilight Sparkle’s help to take her revenge against the Rainbooms had been deliciously ironic, but never had she suspected it would be this direct! Adagio had all the necessary cards now, she needed only to wait for the right time to play them.
But there was still more to Sugarcoat’s story. She told Adagio about what had happened after the games, when the Rainbooms and the Shadowbolts had confronted Principal Cinch and forced a draw – and about what had come after. They’d thought, perhaps foolishly, that it had ended there, Twilight was gone and with her so, too, was the magic, and had hoped that their united front against their tyrannical principal would help to bring the students of Crystal Prep closer together.
They were wrong.
She might have been cowed on the grounds of Canterlot High, but in the halls of Crystal Prep Academy, Abacus Cinch was all powerful. Word had spread that Twilight Sparkle had sabotaged the games and defected to Canterlot High and, that instead of standing with their school, Sugarcoat and the other competitors had accepted the terms of the enemy. The other students hadn’t been close enough to know the reality of the situation, and though they (with the help of Dean Cadance) had tried to spread the truth, it was too late.
The students of Crystal Prep despised them – even those who had witnessed the rampage of Midnight Sparkle believed that it was they, without the influence of Abacus Cinch, who had convinced Twilight to use magic she didn’t understand to influence the games. Soon, the girls were being thrown out of clubs and kicked off teams, and before long each of them had been saddled with enough detention time to last them into the next school year.
While this information wasn’t as groundbreaking as what had come before it, in the very least it helped to clear up many of Adagio’s lingering questions. It also served to reaffirmed something she already knew: Abacus Cinch was dangerous. If she was willing to turn on her best students, there was little doubt in Adagio’s mind that she would keep her word of removing Adagio if she was unable to pull her weight.
But that wouldn’t happen, not with Twilight Sparkle on her side.
It had taken nearly an hour for Sugarcoat to tell the story, and by the time she was finished both girls were too exhausted to discuss the matter any further. But, before Adagio turned in for the night, there was one final thing she had to do. It took some fumbling – she wasn’t quite used to her phone’s interface – but after a few minutes she successfully set her alarm for five-thirty.
It had been a long, rollercoaster of a day, and it was of little surprise that Adagio was asleep before her head even touched her pillow.
The next two days seemed to go by in a flash.
Adagio had awoken Thursday morning with a sense of eagerness that had overpowered her fatigue and carried her through the rest of the day. She had, once again, joined Sugarcoat for an early shower – a routine that she would repeat on Friday, as well – before making her way to the lab to begin the next phase of her plan.
Twilight’s notes were exactly as arcane as Adagio had remembered them, but she remained undeterred. She spent the hours before her first class deciphering what she could, and painstakingly translating it into her own writing. It was slow work, but she didn’t mind, it was the first real progress she’d made since her initial meeting with Abacus Cinch, and Adagio intended to make the most of it.
The classes themselves were as boring as ever. Adagio forced herself to concentrate, constantly having to reign in her wandering mind. As appealing as it was to fantasize about the return of her magic, not failing her midterms remained the most pressing issue. At the rate she was unraveling the enigma of Twilight’s device – and that was assuming she was able to learn everything she’d hoped to from Twilight – Adagio knew with absolute certainty that she would not finish the device in the next three weeks, meaning she would have to play Principal Cinch’s game a little longer.
When it came time for lunch, Adagio once again sequestered herself in Twilight’s lab. Sonata stopped by briefly, doing little more than spouting some nonsense about Aria (who, other than occasionally spotting her in a crowded hallway, Adagio had managed to avoid completely) and spinning in her chair, before getting bored and leaving Adagio to her work. Adagio had to suffer her presence a little longer during their shared gym period, though it was made somewhat more bearable by the company of Sugarcoat, until at long last the final bell heralded the end of the school day.
There were no CHS students on the bus to the Canterlot Public Library, though the possibility of their appearance kept Adagio on edge throughout the entire commute. Her time with Twilight was, as was becoming the norm, the best part of her day. The pair spent two short hours in their comfortable workspace, tackling each and every problem that Adagio brought forward. There was a heart stopping moment where Twilight had questioned one of the equations Adagio had taken from her notes, but it quickly passed as Twilight praised her for reading ahead. By the end of their session, Adagio’s confidence was through the roof, and for the first time she felt as if her destiny was firmly within her own grasp.
Friday began much like Thursday, and Adagio was just starting to believe that the bulk of her troubles were behind her, when her little routine was shattered by a knock at the door.
Adagio looked up, noticing Twilight doing the same. They shared a look of bafflement, before simultaneously checking their phones. It was ten-after-five, so it wasn’t the librarian coming to kick them out again, so who could it be?
Adagio saw Twilight about to rise from her chair and held up a hand to stop her. “I’ve got it,” she said, standing up and making her way to the door.
Adagio had been closer, it was true, but that wasn’t why she’d stopped Twilight. Whoever was on the other side of the door had either made a mistake and come to the wrong room, or sought them out specifically, meaning it was entirely possible that she was about to come face to face with Sunset Shimmer or one of the other Rainbooms. There were other possibilities, of course, but whatever the case, Adagio wanted to be in complete control of the situation. So, taking a deep breath, she turned the handle, opened the door, and came face to face with…
…Someone she’d never seen before in her life.
Adagio blinked and peered up at the newcomer, who looked about as confused as Adagio felt. He was tall and lean, with wild green hair kept in check by a black beanie. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, implying he wasn’t a student that had followed her from Crystal Prep, and she didn’t recognize him as one of the students from Canterlot High.
So who was he?
The boy, equally perplexed, rubbed his neck and laughed awkwardly. “Sorry,” he said, “I think I have the wrong room.”
Adagio was preparing to close the door (and was about halfway through doing so) when Twilight leapt up from her chair behind her. “Wait,” she said, “Timber?”
The back of Twilight’s chair clattered against the floor, causing all three of them to flinch. Adagio stepped aside, allowing them to get a good look at one another.
“Twilight?” said the boy, his features relaxing. “For a second there I thought I got the time wrong, but then I remembered that would never happen, because I’m awesome.” He smiled and winked at Twilight, who indulged him with a giggle. Adagio folded her arms, unamused, and waited for an introduction.
After a few long seconds, Adagio cleared her throat loudly.
The pair jumped, remembering that they weren’t alone. Twilight looked sheepishly at Adagio, her cheeks quickly taking on a soft pink glow, before turning back to the boy. “Timber,” she said, “I want you to meet Adagio Dazzle, she’s the girl from Crystal Prep I’ve been tutoring.”
Adagio looked wide-eyed at Twilight. What had happened to keeping their arrangement a secret between the two of them?
“Oh,” said Timber, a look of understanding spreading across his face. “Nice to meet you, Adagio, from Twilight told me about you, I expected you to be younger!”
Adagio felt like she’d been slapped in the face. What was Twilight telling this boy behind her back, and what would lead him to believe she was some sort of child? Timber extended his hand in greeting, and Adagio took it in her own, doing her best to crush it between her fingers.
“Quite the grip you’ve got there!” he said with a laugh. Adagio withdrew her hand, feeling her blood freezing in her veins.
“Adagio,” continued Twilight, “this is Timber Spruce. He’s… well, um, he’s my–”
Timber cut her off. “I’m her boyfriend.”
The word cut through the room like a knife. Adagio watched, unseeing as Timber wrapped an arm around Twilight’s shoulders. If she’d been blushing before, the expression she now wore was something else entirely. Her face burned so brightly that Adagio might even have felt heat radiating off of it – that is, if in that moment she could feel anything at all.
“Yeah,” squeaked Twilight, “that.”
The two shared another smile, the warmth of which was entirely lost on Adagio.
“What is he doing here?”
She hadn’t meant to be quite so curt, but right now she found it hard to care. Twilight didn’t seem to notice, but Timber gave her a searching look.
“We’ve got a date,” he said, proudly, before turning his gaze back to Twilight. “You did remember our date, right?”
The color drained from Twilight’s face. “Oh no!” she said, her voice beset with panic. “We were supposed to go see a movie – I totally forgot! I’m so sorry, Timber!”
“Twilight,” said Timber, calmly, “the movie doesn’t start until six-thirty. We still have plenty of time.”
“Oh,” said Twilight, the blush working its way back into her cheeks, “right.”
Adagio stared at them coldly. “What about me?” she asked.
Twilight looked at Adagio, then back to Timber. She tapped the tips of her two index fingers together. “I sort of promised Adagio that we’d study until six,” she said, sheepishly.
Timber rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smile. “How can someone so smart be so scatterbrained?” he chided, earning himself a light elbow to the ribs. “oww– kidding! It’s cool, that should still give us enough time to get seats, though we might have to skip the popcorn. I’ll wait downstairs while you girls finish up.”
Twilight put a hand on his chest. “Thanks,” she said, earnestly. She leaned in, and realizing what was about to happen, Adagio turned away, but it wasn’t enough. There was nothing she could do to escape the sound of Timber Spruce and Twilight Sparkle kissing.
She flinched.
“I’ll see you soon,” said Twilight, pulling away.
“I’ll be in the ‘Outdoors’ section,” said Timber. “It was nice meeting you, Adagio!”
Adagio put on her best fake smile. She was out of practice.
Twilight closed the door behind Timber, before leaning on it and clutching her arms to her chest. She sighed, and Adagio dropped herself loudly back down in her chair. Twilight, remembering where she was, cleared her throat. “Sorry about that.”
“Whatever,” said Adagio.
Twilight returned to her seat, picked it up off the floor, and the two got back to studying.
Or tried to, anyway. It was immediately apparent that Twilight’s mind was elsewhere, and after about fifteen minutes of repeating questions and reminding Twilight what page they were on, Adagio finally had enough.
She slammed her palms against the table in frustration, shocking Twilight out of yet another daydream.
“Adagio?” asked Twilight. “What’s wrong?”
Adagio grit her teeth. “Twilight Sparkle, I just asked you the same question three times, and you still haven’t given me an answer.”
“Oh,” said Twilight, adjusting her glasses and flipping through her book. “What was the question again?”
“Forget it,” said Adagio, slamming her textbook closed.
Twilight jerked at the noise. “I’m sorry,” she said, “it’s just that he lives out of town, so we don’t see each other very often, so I–”
“It’s fine,” lied Adagio, cutting her off. “You’ve obviously distracted, so why don’t you stop wasting both of our time and go be with him? You’re useless to me like this.”
Adagio regretted the words immediately after they left her mouth. Twilight look like she’d been struck, and all the bubbliness and glee that had enveloped her since Timber’s arrival evaporated in an instant.
Adagio rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “I’m sorry. Just… go have fun on your date. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Twilight watched her for almost a minute. Adagio couldn’t bear to look into her big, hurt eyes any longer, and made a show of reopening her textbook and burying her face in it. Twilight collected her things and made for the door, but stopped with her hand on the knob.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “I could–”
“Go, Twilight Sparkle. Timber is waiting.”
Adagio heard the door close behind her, and once again she was left all alone.
Twilight Sparkle has a boyfriend, she thought.
And why wouldn’t she? Twilight was pretty and smart, kind and quick-witted. Of course she had a boyfriend, it only made sense. The better question was why did Adagio care?
I don’t, she thought immediately. Twilight Sparkle’s love life was of so little concern to her that she was shocked to find herself thinking about it it whatsoever. It was a trivial, unimportant detail, a footnote in her grand plan. Twilight Sparkle could love whoever she wanted.
Suddenly, the room felt like it had dropped a few degrees. Twilight Sparkle surely didn’t love him, right? Not that she cared, but if Twilight was in love with him, certainly she wouldn’t have forgotten their date, and she wouldn’t have neglected to mention his very existence for an entire week, would she?
Adagio stood up from her chair and began to pace around the small room. She didn’t care about Twilight’s stupid feelings, and yet she couldn’t deny that something was wrong. There was a tightness in her chest and a familiar knot in her stomach. Why was she feeling this way? Was she frustrated that Twilight had left early? They’d only accomplished half of what Adagio had hoped to before the end of the evening, but that wasn’t it, either. She could have tried harder to make Twilight focus, instead of making her leave, but she didn’t. Every time she’d looked at Twilight, every time she thought about her now, all she could picture was the lovesick way she’d looked at Timber, how their puckered lips had drawn closer and closer until…
Adagio swept the contents of the table into her bookbag. A pen missed the opening completely and landed on the floor by her feet. She stomped on it, shattering the plastic beneath her heel, before storming out of the study room. She walked briskly down the stairs and out the main doors, the cold night air stinging her damp cheeks. But why were they damp? She didn’t want to think about it. She wiped her eyes and began walking down the road, not stopping at the bus stop. What was she doing? She was confused, angry, and restless. She needed to walk. But how long would it take to walk from here to Crystal Prep?
She didn’t care.
The sun had set by the time she had reached the school. Her legs burned and her feet ached, her shoes weren’t meant for walking such long distances. It appeared that she wasn’t the only Crystal Prep student returning to the dormitories after spending their Friday evening out and about, and Adagio did her best to ignore the other students as she made her way back to her room. Inside, Sugarcoat was waiting for her.
“You look terrible,” she said, in her usual blunt manner. Adagio was in no mood to deal with her – in fact, her long walk had only given her time to dwell further on her anger – and dealt her a sharp look before heading towards her bunk.
“Wait,” said Sugarcoat. Adagio reluctantly stopped with her arms on the rungs, her neck craning towards the other girl. “Your gem thing was on the floor again.”
Adagio groaned. “Just put it on my desk, I’ll deal with it in the morning.”
“Actually, I tied a string to it. You said it used to be a necklace, right? Now you can hang it somewhere or wear it around your neck so you don’t lose it.”
Adagio stared at Sugarcoat. As usual, the girl’s expression was unreadable. “Thanks,” she muttered. She didn’t know what else to say, and after another minute of awkward eye contact, finished the climb up to her bunk.
“Are you okay?” asked Sugarcoat from below. Adagio turned on her side and faced the wall.
“No,” she replied.
There was already light pouring through the window when Adagio awoke the next morning.
She sat up in bed, wiping the sleep from her bleary eyes. Below her, sitting at her desk, Sugarcoat toiled away at some schoolwork.
Adagio yawned and stretched. “What time is it?” she asked.
“Around noon,” said Sugarcoat, not looking up from her work, “you slept in. Oh, and your phone has been going off all morning.”
“What?” Adagio fumbled around her bed, eventually finding her phone stashed beneath her pillow. Sure enough, she was surprised to find that she had unread text messages from Twilight Sparkle.
Twelve of them.
Adagio groaned and turned off the screen. “I’m not awake enough for this,” she muttered, climbing down from her bunk.
“Awake enough for what?”
Sugarcoat had turned to face her, and was now observing her with her trademarked blank expression. Adagio took a self-conscious glance in the mirror and found that, other than a bit of bedhead and her big t-shirt hanging precariously from one shoulder, she didn’t look nearly as bad as she felt.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Adagio, fixing the neckline of her shirt. The anger and confusion of the night before had finally burned themselves out, and had settled in the pit of her stomach as a dull melancholy. She set her phone on the desk, intending to leave it behind while she took a shower, when she noticed Sugarcoat’s handiwork lying next to it.
Sugarcoat had done more than ‘tie a string to’ her shattered pendant. The red gem shard was attached to a thin metal chain with a clasp on the back. It was a proper necklace, not like the thick, black strap she’d worn before, but thin and chic. For a moment, it almost seemed as if the shard had had gained back just a tiny bit of its former luster.
“You did this?” asked Adagio. Sugarcoat nodded. Adagio held the necklace up to her neck and looked once more into the mirror. Her shirt had, once again, slipped off her shoulder, but this time she left it. It wasn’t a bad look. She turned her attention back to Sugarcoat. “Why?”
“I was tired of stepping on it.”
Adagio looked into Sugarcoat’s eyes, but as usual the girl’s thoughts were indecipherable. “Well, thanks,” said Adagio lamely. She wasn’t used to receiving gifts – not from people under their own free will, anyway – and wasn’t entirely sure what to say.
“You already thanked me,” said Sugarcoat, turning back to her work, “but you’re welcome.”
Adagio considered the necklace for a moment longer, before laying it carefully next to her phone. She grabbed her bag and a change of clothes, and made her way to the showers. She took a long, hot shower, undisturbed by any other students who had likely performed their morning rituals while it was still morning, before eventually deciding enough was enough (she couldn’t hide from her problems beneath a torrent of hot water all day) and returned to her room.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Adagio was not required to wear her Crystal Prep uniform, and she intended to take full advantage of this fact, electing to wear the most comfortable outfit she owned. While a purple hoodie, jeans, and sneakers weren’t exactly the most fashion forward thing in her figurative wardrobe, they were the perfect choice for a day where she didn’t have to go anywhere or impress anyone.
Sugarcoat was still seated at her desk when Adagio returned, but had exchanged the problems she’d been working on (which now sat on the corner of her desk, neatly stapled with a cover page) for a thick novel. Adagio scooped her phone up off the desk and tucked it into the pocket of her hoodie, and after a moment of thought, took the necklace as well. She pulled the chain around her neck and did up the clasp, shivering as the cool metal touched her shower-warmed skin. Sugarcoat looked up from her novel and gave her an approving nod.
“It looks good on you,” she said.
“Thanks,” said Adagio. Was that the first complement she’d received from Sugarcoat? It felt… nice, and Adagio felt her foul mood improve ever so slightly. She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder.
“Going out?”
Sugarcoat had turned to face her once again.
Adagio nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “I’ve got some things I want to get done.” In truth, Adagio wasn’t really sure why she was leaving. She knew she was going to the lab, her body had almost lead her there unconsciously, but even now she knew that she wasn’t going to get much done. Her disastrous session with Twilight had assured her of that. But she wasn’t going to sit around in her room all day feeling sorry for herself, so the lab was her only other option.
Sugarcoat hesitated for a moment, then spoke. “Some of the other girls and I were thinking about going to get something to eat later. You can come, too, if you’re interested.”
Adagio blinked. Well, that was a surprise. She wasn’t exactly in the mood to go out with anyone right now, and was about to turn Sugarcoat down, when she caught a glimpse of her new necklace in the mirror. She sighed. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “Let me know when you have the details.”
“Okay,” said Sugarcoat. “Give me your number.”
Adagio raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Your phone number,” said Sugarcoat. “If you’re going out, and you want me to let you know when I have the details, you have to give me your phone number.”
Adagio stared at her for a moment, before pulling her phone out of her pocket. She opened the contacts window, carefully avoiding reading any of the texts from Twilight, and began the process of adding a new contact. She didn’t hand the phone to Sugarcoat, partly because she didn’t want her to see that she only had one prior contact, and partly because she really didn’t want her to see that that one contact was Twilight Sparkle.
After they’d finished sharing information, Adagio sent Sugarcoat a quick text to ensure they’d entered the right numbers.
‘Hi,’ she sent.
‘Hello,’ responded Sugarcoat.
With that behind them, Adagio bid farewell to Sugarcoat and began her trek to the lab. It was a cold day, and the wind howled and cut through Adagio’s hoodie like she was wearing nothing at all, but fortunately the trip to the school was a short one, and before long Adagio found herself holed up in the musty old lab.
Twilight’s musty old lab, she thought, and sighed.
Adagio dropped herself into the waiting chair, pulled her phone once more from her pocket and stared at it. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t avoid Twilight forever, not as long as she held on to any hope of getting her magic back, anyway. Besides, part of her was curious about what was so important that Twilight had texted her about it twelve times, and another part simply wanted to find out if things were okay between them. So, before she could convince herself not to, Adagio opened her text messages and began to read.
‘Hi.’
‘Sorry about last night, I completely forgot that I made plans with Timber.’
‘He lives out of town, so we have make our plans pretty far in advance so he can be sure he can get the time off, and the transportation into Canterlot.’
‘I spend a lot of time at the library, so I thought it would be a good place to meet. I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t decide to study somewhere else, right?’
‘Are you mad at me?’
‘You seemed mad last night. I’m sorry, I should have paid more attention. That wasn’t very tutorly of me.’
‘Is tutorly a word?’
‘Okay, now I’m not sure if you’re not responding because you haven’t seen these, or because you’re actually mad at me.’
‘So if you see this and you’re not mad at me, please let me know. Or if you see this and you are mad at me, also let me know, so I know.’
‘“Tutorly” isn’t a word, by the way.’
‘I just realized that I sent you ten texts in a row. I promise I’m not crazy, sometimes I send a text and then I realize I should have added something to it, or I think of something else I was going to say, and suddenly it’s a wall of text. This is the last text, just call me when you get these, or when you feel like it.’
‘Sorry about all the texts.’
Adagio rolled her eyes. Even in the context of her text messages, Twilight Sparkle still managed to come off as a massive dork. A smile tugged at her lips, and her eye lingered on the tiny icon of Twilight Sparkle cleaning her glasses. Her thumb hovered over the call button.
Just get it over with, she thought, before you talk yourself out of it.
She bit her lip, and pressed the button.
It had barely started to ring when the call connected and Twilight’s voice came through from the other end.
“Hello? Adagio?”
Adagio felt a weight pressing down on her chest, and fought back the impulse to terminate the call.
“Hello, Twilight Sparkle. I got your texts.”
Twilight laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, sorry about that, sometimes I get a little…”
“Carried away?”
“Yeah, that.”
The call lapsed into silence.
“Are you still there?” asked Twilight.
“I’m here,” said Adagio.
“I was just wondering–”
“I wanted to tell you–”
They both stopped.
“You go first,” said Twilight.
Adagio took a deep breath. “I wanted to… apologize for my childish behavior last night. You’ve done a lot for me these last few days, and it was a very poor way to repay your generosity. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” said Twilight. “I took on a responsibility when I agreed to tutor you, and I shouldn’t have let my personal life interfere with that. I promise that it won’t happen again. I’m usually much better organized with my time, I have my dental appointments booked for the next two years!”
Of course she did. Adagio laughed and rolled her eyes.
“Are you rolling your eyes at me?” asked Twilight, playfully.
“No.” She rolled them again, and the two of them burst into a fit of giggles.
“I’m glad you called,” said Twilight.
“Me too,” replied Adagio. There was a short, pleasant silence, before Twilight spoke again.
“So, doing anything special for your first weekend at Crystal Prep?”
Technically her first day at the school had been a Sunday, but Adagio didn’t push the issue. She glanced around the lab, eyeing the small mountain of notes piled on the desks. “Not really,” she replied.
“Well, if you’re not doing anything, there are a couple of things I need to pick up from the mall, and it would be more fun if I had someone to go with.”
Apologizing was one thing, but going out in public with Twilight Sparkle was a disaster waiting to happen. What if someone from Canterlot High saw them together? What if someone from Crystal Prep saw them together? What if she did something stupid and drove Twilight away?
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The line went quiet for a moment. “O-oh, okay. If you don’t want to¬–”
“It’s not that I don’t want to! It’s just–”
“No, you were right, I wasn’t thinking… Sorry.”
There was that feeling again: guilt. She’d already made Twilight apologize for having a life outside of the two-hours a day she’d already committed to helping Adagio, and now she was making her apologizing for having the audacity to want to spend more time with her?
Twilight’s voice was hollow, defeated, and sounded nothing like the clever, dorky girl Adagio knew her to be. How many times did Adagio have to hurt her, just to keep a secret? How many tears would be shed before Twilight grew to resent her? But if they were found out, everything could come crashing down. She couldn’t put her own future on the line just to make Twilight Sparkle happy, could she?
The answer surprised her.
“You didn’t let me finish,” she said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but if I have to spend my entire day waiting around Crystal Prep I might actually lose my mind. So, when do you want to meet?”
It took Twilight a few seconds to process her response. “Wait, really? You’ll come? Are you sure?”
No, she wasn’t sure. To be honest, she wasn’t convinced she wasn’t making a huge mistake.
“I am.”
“That’s great!” Twilight cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m glad to hear it. I was thinking of going around two o’clock, how does that sound?”
There was still time to get out of this.
“I’ll catch the next bus.”
Or not.
“Okay, I’ll get ready and meet you at the mall. See you soon!”
“See you soon, Twilight Sparkle.”
The call ended and Adagio allowed her arm to drop to her side. What was she thinking? She had to call Twilight back, tell her she’d changed her mind! She picked her bus card up off the desk and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans. No, even with every fiber of her being crying out against it – even if she wasn’t entirely sure why – Adagio had made her decision and she was sticking to it.
She couldn’t let Twilight down again.
Adagio had just stepped out of the lab and was about to lock the door, when she noticed a familiar figure in the hallway.
“Dean Cadance?”
Cadance stopped mid stride. “Adagio? What are you–”
“Hang on just one second!” said Adagio, ducking back into the lab and leaving a confused Cadance alone in the hallway. She emerged a moment later with an atrociously pink item tucked under her arm.
“Your umbrella,” she said, perhaps a little too proudly than what was merited given the situation. “I remembered.”
Cadance laughed, accepting the umbrella as Adagio handed it to her. “I was wondering when I’d get this back.”
“Sorry about that,” said Adagio, rubbing her neck and looking at the floor.
“Don’t be, I’m just surprised you kept it as long as you did. It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
“You know?”
Cadance poked her playfully with the tip of the umbrella. “Hey, just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I’m blind!”
Adagio smirked. “So, you admit that you’re old?”
Cadance brandished the umbrella like a club. “Don’t make me use this. Remember, I know where you live!”
The two stared defiantly at one another for a moment, before their composure broke and they fell into a fit of laughter.
“So,” said Cadance, wiping a tear from her eye, “what are you doing here, anyway?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
Cadance rolled her eyes. “You could, or you could try giving me a straight answer.”
“Where would the fun in that be?”
“Funny girl,” said Cadance, sarcastically, though her smile didn’t fade. “If you must know, I was stopping in to get a few things from my office. I’ve done that, so now I’m leaving. Your turn.”
“I was thinking about getting some work done, but…” She hesitated.
“But?” said Cadance, cocking an eyebrow.
“…I decided to go to the mall, instead. With Twilight Sparkle. I’m about to catch the bus.”
No more lies, she reminded herself. Now she had to do it.
Cadance clapped her hands together with glee. “I’m so glad everything is working out between you two. Am I a great dean, or what?” she asked, punctuating the question with a wink. Adagio rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it, we both know. Actually, I’m heading that way myself. I can give you a lift, if you’d like.”
“Yes,” said Adagio, immediately. Driving with Cadance was immeasurably better than public transportation.
“It’s settled then, let’s get going.”
It was a short walk to Cadance’s car, and Adagio was about to get into the passenger’s seat when Cadance stopped her. “Actually, would you mind sitting in the back? I have to pick someone up on the way.”
Adagio shrugged and climbed in the back. It wasn’t as comfortable as the front, but considering she was getting a free ride she didn’t feel she had the right to complain. She caught Cadance’s eye while the latter was adjusting her rearview mirror.
“It sort of feels like I’m your chauffeur,” joked Cadance.
“I didn’t think chauffeurs talked so much.”
“There’s still time for you to catch that bus.”
Adagio smiled sweetly. “Thank you for offering me a ride, Dean Cadance,” she said, with only a hint of sarcasm.
Cadance laughed, started the car, and they were off. It was a nice day, and Adagio spent the majority of the trip staring out the window and trying not to think about everything that could go wrong once they arrived at the mall. Eventually, Cadance pulled up alongside a large house with a well-kept garden and honked the car’s horn. The door to the house opened, and though he was much better dressed than when she’d seen him on Wednesday, Adagio was surprised when Shining Armor stepped out. She cast a confused glance at Cadance, who smiled mysteriously.
Shining Armor approached the vehicle, opened the passenger’s side door, and climbed in. “Hello, honey,” he said, leaning in and giving Cadance a quick peck on the lips.
“Hello, darling,” replied Cadance, biting her lip to hold back a smile. They gazed at one another for a few seconds before Shining Armor finally noticed Adagio in the back seat. He blinked.
“Hey,” he said, confusion spreading across his strong features.
“Hello,” said Adagio. An awkward silence fell over the car, only breaking when Cadance could no longer contain her laughter.
“You should have seen the look on your faces!” said Cadance. Shining Armor smiled and shook his head, before looking back towards Adagio.
“We didn’t really have a chance to be properly introduced the other day,” he said. “I’m Shining Armor, nice to meet you.” He extended a hand, and Adagio shook it.
“Adagio Dazzle,” she said, “nice to meet you, too.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you from my two favorite girls – all good things, I promise.”
“She called me old today,” said Cadance, feigning offence.
Shining Armor chuckled. “Mostly good things,” he corrected.
“It’s funny, Twilight was actually just telling me that she was meeting you at the mall, and I had to tell her I couldn’t give her a ride because–” he cut himself off, turning to face Cadance. “We’re driving them to the mall, aren’t we?” She gave him a knowing look. He sighed. “I’ll go get her.”
Shining Armor stepped out of the car and jogged back up the lawn.
“So,” said Adagio, “dating a student’s older brother, huh?”
“Our families have been friends for years. Shining Armor and I went to school together, and I used to babysit Twilight when she was little. So, if you ever want to see embarrassing baby pictures all you have to do is ask.”
Adagio laughed. “Deal.”
Shining Armor returned, this time with Twilight in tow. Adagio slid over to make room for her as she climbed in.
“Hi,” said Adagio.
Twilight must not have noticed her, as in her surprise she jumped straight up and hit her head on the ceiling of the car. Adagio snickered and did her best to cover her mouth with her hand.
“Adagio!” said Twilight, trying to play off her clumsiness by straightening her skirt and fixing her glasses. “W-what are you doing here? I thought you were taking the bus.”
“This isn’t the bus?” asked Adagio, bluffing bewilderment. “Miss driver, I’m going to have to ask for my money back!”
“Sorry,” said Cadance, “no refunds!” They laughed, but Twilight still looked confused so Adagio decided to fill her in.
“I ran into Cadance at school and she offered me a ride. I didn’t know we’d be picking you up until I saw Shining Armor.”
“It’s on the way,” said Cadance.
“No it isn’t,” said Shining Armor.
“Quiet, you!”
“Yes, dear.”
“Bye, Cadance, bye, Shiny, thanks for the ride!”
Twilight Sparkle and Adagio Dazzle waved as Cadance’s car pulled out of the parking lot of the West Canterlot Mall. The drive had been a pleasant one, especially once Cadance and Shining Armor had decided to tell stories about Twilight’s childhood.
“All of that stays between us,” said Twilight, still looking delightfully flustered.
“My lips are sealed,” said Adagio. “Besides, who would I tell that Twilight Sparkle had her brother check her closet for monsters until the age of–”
Twilight’s elbow caught her in the ribs. “Adagio!”
“Careful with those boney elbows, Twilight Sparkle, you’ll take my eye out!”
That earned her another elbow, but it was worth it. Twilight waited for her snickering to die down before the pair headed for the entrance.
“Your brother seems like a nice guy.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that because he made fun of me.”
“Maybe,” said Adagio with a coy smile.
“Well, it’s true. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but Shiny was always there when I needed him – he and Cadance both. I’m glad you got along with them.” Twilight thought for a moment. “Do you have any siblings?”
“No,” said Adagio, eager to drop the subject of her past. “What do you need to pick up, anyway?”
“Well,” said Twilight, pushing open the mall’s double doors, “it’s just a couple of things. I was thinking we’d start with–”
Twilight stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening and her pupils shrinking into pinpricks. “Oh no.”
“What’s wrong?” Adagio asked. She followed Twilight’s gaze, and felt her heart leap into her throat when she discovered the source of Twilight’s distress.
Walking towards them, about twenty feet away, was not one, but all six of the Rainbooms who yet remained in this world, and what was worse, one of them was looking right at Twilight Sparkle.
“Twilight, hey!” called Sunset Shimmer, raising a hand in greeting. The other girls looked up, and Adagio tried to slip away into the crowd.
But she was too late.
Twilight didn’t have a chance to respond before Sunset’s demeanor shifted. The warmth in her face died, replaced with confusion and urgency. Realization swept over the other Rainbooms like a wave, and in an instant, they were upon her.
“Isn’t that–” started one of them, but Sunset Shimmer didn’t let her finish.
“Twilight!” cried Sunset. “I’ll explain everything later, but you need to get away from her right now!”
Adagio’s hands balled into fists. This is it. You knew this was going to happen, but you came here anyway. Now it’s all over. Was she worth it?
“Wait,” said Twilight, interposing herself between Adagio and Sunset, “you don’t understand!”
“No, you don’t understand!” Sunset tried to pull Twilight behind her, but she stood her ground. “Whoever you think she is, whatever she told you, it’s all a lie. Her name is Adagio Dazzle, and she’s a dangerous creature from Equestria called a–”
“Siren,” said Twilight, cutting her off. “I know.”
“You know?” said Sunset and Adagio, simultaneously. Their narrowed eyes met and Sunset felt a spark of electricity pass between them. Their impromptu staring contest ended when Twilight spoke again.
“Yeah,” she said, looking at the floor.
“How long have you known?” The lack of scorn in Adagio’s voice caught Sunset off guard. In fact, a lot about this situation was catching her off guard. For starters, how did Twilight Sparkle, the human, know Adagio Dazzle, the Siren? Furthermore, why were they hanging out at the mall together?
“After we first met I asked a couple of people at school if they’d heard of you.” A dangerous look flashed across Adagio’s features, and Twilight raised her hands to calm her. “I didn’t tell them what was going on! I just asked them if they recognized your name… and they did.”
Adagio frowned, and looked as if she was about to respond when Rainbow Dash interjected impatiently. “And what is going on?”
Twilight looked to Adagio – almost as if she was asking for permission – who scowled at Rainbow, before shrugging her shoulders and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. “There’s no hiding it now,” she muttered.
Twilight nodded. She looked back to her assembled friends, nervously wringing her hands together. “I’m tutoring her.”
Sunset blinked. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but that wasn’t it.
“Tutoring her in what?” asked Pinkie Pie.
“The usual things,” responded Twilight, “math, history, chemistry–”
“Hold on, timeout!” interrupted Rainbow, making a ‘T’ shape with her hands. “Why does she need tutoring? She hasn’t even been to school since we whooped her butt at the Battle of the Bands!” She punctuated the statement by fixing Adagio with a smug look.
“She goes to school,” said Twilight, rubbing her arm. “Just, you know, not our school.”
Adagio’s eyes bore into Twilight’s back. Looks like she’s said too much, thought Sunset.
“But if she’s not attending Canterlot High,” said Rarity, thoughtfully, “then that would leave–” she clapped her hands to her mouth. “–you couldn’t possibly mean–”
“Crystal Prep,” finished Applejack. The group let out a collective gasp.
“Brilliant deduction,” said Adagio, sarcastically, “would you like a prize?”
Pinkie Pie’s face lit up, only for her hopes to be dashed as Applejack placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head.
“Since when does Crystal Prep let two-bit bad guys in, anyway?” asked Rainbow. “Or were they that desperate after we won the Friendship Games?”
“The Friendship Games ended in a tie,” Fluttershy reminded her, her voice little more than a whisper coming from the back of the group.
“Whatever,” said Rainbow, with a shrug.
“That’s enough!” said Sunset, much more forcefully than she’d intended. She couldn’t help it; she needed time to process everything, but more importantly she needed to get Twilight away from the Siren and figure out exactly what was going on. “If you know what she is, then you know she’s manipulative and–”
“Sunset!” Twilight cut her off. Sunset realized that her little outburst had drawn the attention of other mall-goers. “Can we talk about this in private?”
“Yeah,” said Sunset. Private was exactly what she needed. “We can talk in the stairwell, there’s a door just over there. Girls, keep an eye on Adagio.”
“Aye-aye!” said Pinkie Pie, with a salute. Adagio did not share her enthusiasm.
“If you think I’m going to wait here with them then you’re delusional.” She turned on her heel. “I’m leaving.”
“Wait!” said Twilight, reaching out and grabbing her arm. Adagio stiffened, and Sunset instinctively took a step forward to protect her friend. “Don’t go,” said Twilight, “I’ll talk to Sunset, we’ll get all of this cleared up, and everything will go back to normal, okay?”
Normal, right. Sunset expected Adagio to shake free of Twilight’s grasp and storm off, but she didn’t. Instead, the Siren looked Twilight in the eyes, grit her teeth, and sighed. “Fine,” she said, not disguising her irritation, “I’ll wait. But I’m not talking to them.”
“It’s not like we’re dying to talk to you, either,” said Rainbow.
“Thanks,” said Twilight, quietly to Adagio. The familiarity between the two only deepened Sunset’s suspicions, and she clapped her hands together.
“It’s settled, then,” she said. “We’ll meet you girls at the food court. Come on, Twilight.”
The pair separated from the rest of the group and made their way to the stairwell and, as expected, the dingy side stairs were devoid of other mall-goers. The door had barely closed behind them when Sunset began to lay into Twilight.
“How did you meet her?” she asked. “What does she really want? Did she try to sing to you?”
Twilight held up her hands, as if trying to block Sunset’s barrage of questions. “Slow down!”
Sunset took a deep breath. “Sorry. Okay, just start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out. We’ll need as much information as we can get if we’re going to figure out what Adagio’s up to.”
Twilight folded her arms. “And what makes you think she’s up to something?”
“Well, why else would she seek you out?” Twilight frowned, and Sunset immediately regretted her choice of words. “You know what I mean,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Don’t you think that’s even a little suspicious?”
“But she didn’t seek me out,” said Twilight. “Dean Cadance called me and asked if I’d be willing to tutor someone. Neither of us knew who the other would be until we met at the library – I practically had to beg her to stay!”
“What? Why?”
“She thought I was the other Twilight – the one from Equestria. I don’t have to explain why that might be weird for her.”
Sunset rubbed her chin. “If it’s all so innocent and coincidental, then why hide it? Why didn’t you tell us once you found out what she was?”
Twilight looked away. “I considered it, but…”
“But what?”
“She asked me not to tell anyone, and–”
“Innocent people don’t make you keep secrets from your friends.”
“Let me finish! She asked me not to tell anyone, and that she was trying to make a fresh start at Crystal Prep. After I found out what she was – what she did – I just…” Twilight looked her square in the eyes, her face flushed with determination. “I want to help her, Sunset, like you helped me, and how the girls helped you. I want to give her a chance.”
Sunset shook her head. “It’s not the same, Twilight.”
“Why not?”
“She’s a Siren – a monster!”
“Midnight Sparkle was a monster.”
The room was silent for a few seconds, before Sunset spoke again, her voice subdued. “So that’s what this is about. Twilight, you’re not Midnight Sparkle.”
“I know,” said Twilight, “but that’s why I know I have to help her. If I can come back, so can she.”
Sunset opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. Adagio wasn’t like them, she hadn’t been turned into a monster, she’d been born one. But did that really mean she couldn’t change? Sunset wanted to say yes – it would be so much simpler that way – but if there was one thing she’d learned in this world was that anything could change. Friends could become enemies, enemies could become friends, but could a Siren really learn the first thing about friendship?
Sunset remembered a broken girl climbing out of a smoldering crater, and sighed.
“Tell me about her,” said Sunset.
“What?”
“You’ve spent some time with her, right? Tell me about Adagio Dazzle when she’s not trying to take over the world.”
“She’s…” Twilight trailed off. “Sorry, it’s hard to sum up a whole person, you know? She’s a good student, maybe not in the traditional way, but she’s getting there. She works hard, she listens, and she’s dedicated to not just regurgitating the material, but learning and understanding it.”
“So, she has good work ethic,” said Sunset, “but what’s she like personally?”
“She can be stubborn, and more than a little perplexing, but she can also be smart, funny, kind… I thought tutoring would be a lot of work – especially after I found out about who she was – but watching her become comfortable with the material, and with me, has been so fun and rewarding. If you could see that side of her, Sunset, I just know you’d feel the same way.”
Twilight’s description didn’t sound at all like the Adagio Dazzle Sunset had met, but at the same time she couldn’t help but wonder what Twilight would think of the Sunset Shimmer who, just a few short months ago, had held the students of Canterlot High in her tyrannical clutches.
“It sounds like you like her a lot.”
“I do,” said Twilight. Twilight’s smile had returned, but there was something different about it. Sunset had seen this side of her before, but she couldn’t quite remember when.
“Alright,” said Sunset, “I think I’ve heard enough. For the record, I still don’t trust that Adagio isn’t up to something, but I trust you, Twilight. If you really think she’s changed, or that she has the capacity to change, then let’s help her.”
Twilight’s eyes went wide. “You mean it?” she asked.
“Yeah, I mean it. Besides, worst case scenario, at least we can keep an eye on her.” Twilight cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m kidding! …mostly, anyway. Just promise me that you’ll keep your eyes open for anything even remotely suspicious.”
“I will.”
“And you’re certain she didn’t try to sing for you?”
“I am.”
“Not even a note?”
“Sunset.”
“Okay, okay, I get it. I think we’ve kept everyone waiting long enough, we should probably get back out there.”
Sunset opened the door to the stairwell and held it for Twilight, who thanked her and stepped through. Twilight walked with a spring in her step, though Sunset found it hard to share her enthusiasm. She wanted to believe Twilight was right, and that Adagio Dazzle really could be redeemed, but a little voice in the back of her mind told her she was making a huge mistake.
When Twilight and Sunset found them, Adagio and the rest of the Rainbooms had moved to the food court.
They sat at separate tables, far enough to keep their hushed conversation from Adagio’s ears, but close enough to ensure she remained within their line of sight. She met their suspicious looks with an air of apathy, but beneath the table her hands fidgeted restlessly.
Adagio was in the middle of a mental rehearsal of the inevitable confrontation (a maddeningly difficult exercise, due in no small part to not knowing what poison Sunset Shimmer was pouring into Twilight’s ear) when she spotted Twilight (and Sunset) through the crowd. The two girls shared a look before splitting up, with Sunset approaching the Rainbooms and Twilight making her way towards Adagio, who suddenly felt her heart lodged firmly in her throat. Twilight took the seat across from her.
Neither of them spoke.
Where should she even start? Should she apologize for keeping the secret from Twilight? Should she be upset that Twilight had talked about her behind her back after she’d explicitly told her not to? Should she demand answers, or should she stay on the defensive and deny whatever accusations Sunset had assuredly levied against her?
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” The outburst from the Rainbooms’ table stirred Adagio from her thoughts. The rainbow-haired one (Rainbow… something) had slammed her hands on the table and was in the middle of a heated argument with Sunset Shimmer, while the others appeared to be trying to defuse the situation. Twilight, who had craned her neck to survey the drama unfolding at the other table, turned back to Adagio with a sheepish look on her face.
“So,” she said, the word hanging in the air.
“So,” replied Adagio.
Twilight cleared her throat and straightened her skirt beneath the table. “This is kind of awkward, huh?”
“Just a bit.”
Once again, they lapsed into silence, the awful din of the mall buzzed in Adagio’s head, making it hard to think.
“Look,” said Adagio, finally, “Twilight Sparkle, I should have told you–”
“No, it’s okay. How do you even bring something like that up?”
I wasn’t intending to, thought Adagio, resisting the urge to glare at Sunset Shimmer. “But you already knew.”
Twilight nodded. “I did.”
Adagio stared at Twilight, who looked as uncertain as she felt. It was time to voice the question that was on both of their minds.
“Where do we go from here?”
Twilight looked down at the table as she struggled to find the right words. “I talked to Sunset – I mean, obviously, you were there – not for the talk – for the, um–”
“Twilight Sparkle,” said Adagio, reaching her hand across the table and placing it over one of Twilight’s own in a gesture of comfort. It seemed to have the opposite effect, as both girls flinched and Adagio quickly withdrew her hand. Like Twilight, Adagio fixed her eyes on the table, trying to suppress the heat she felt rising in her cheeks.
After a moment, Twilight continued. “She thinks you’re a monster.”
Adagio flinched. Of course she did; Sunset Shimmer was a pony, and ponies were all the same. But Twilight Sparkle – this Twilight Sparkle – was a human.
“And what do you think?” asked Adagio.
“I think… I think you’re my friend.”
That hadn’t been the response she’d been expecting. Adagio looked up at Twilight, puzzled. “You think we’re… friends?”
“I do,” said Twilight.
The notion was absurd. Twilight Sparkle was her tutor, an ally of her most hated enemies, and a pawn in Adagio’s game of magical conquest. Sure, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the time she spent with Twilight, and the thought of losing her had been… distressing, but that was only because of Twilight’s key role in her plan. No, she was more than a pawn, perhaps it would be more apt to call her a bishop, a rook, or, perhaps…
…a friend.
Adagio frowned. Sirens didn’t make friends. Ponies (and humans, she supposed) were pitiful creatures; weak individually, they made ‘friends’ so that, together, they might stand a chance against stronger, more powerful beings.
Monsters.
But Adagio was a human now, and if she returned to Equestria without her magic, who knows what she would become? Had she not allowed herself to be helped by Twilight? If pathetic creatures sought friendship to make up for their weakness, and Adagio had sought out Twilight Sparkle…
“I’ve never had a friend before,” said Adagio.
Adagio felt Twilight’s hand close around her own, and this time neither of them pulled away.
Sunset Shimmer cleared her throat.
Twilight must have felt Adagio tense up, as she squeezed her hand reassuringly. Sunset had come alone, but Adagio could feel five pairs of eyes on her from a table across the way. Sunset’s arms were crossed, and her eyes lingered momentarily on the pair’s linked hands.
“How’d it go?” asked Twilight.
Sunset rubbed her neck. “Results were… mixed. They’re not entirely convinced that she’s not up to something.” She paused. “And neither am I.”
“She’s right here,” hissed Adagio, earning herself a pointed look from Sunset, who continued.
“But if you’re sure you trust her–”
“I trust her,” asserted Twilight. Adagio suppressed a twinge of guilt.
“–then that’s all we can do. We can’t tell you who to be friends with,” said Sunset, glancing back to the other table, “though, not everyone agrees with that sentiment.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.
“So, that’s it then?” asked Twilight.
“I guess,” said Sunset, “I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure where we go from here. This wasn’t exactly how I thought I’d be spending my Saturday afternoon.”
“Tell me about it,” said Adagio.
“Well,” said Twilight, “since we’re all here…”
Adagio didn’t like where this was going.
“Why don’t we take this opportunity to clear the air? If the girls get to know the real you, then they won’t have any reason to worry.”
There stood the problem. The Rainbooms had already met the real her, and it had been disastrous. The thought of spending any time whatsoever with them made her feel physically ill, and yet there were gears turning in her head. As uncomfortable as it would be, if she was able to convince the Rainbooms that she wasn’t a threat, then there would be nothing standing between Adagio Dazzle and the return of her magic. But on the other hand, it meant associating with the very people who stole it from her in the first place.
Not that any of that mattered, because there was no chance the Rainbooms would want anything to do with her.
“I think that’s a good idea,” said Sunset.
Adagio balked at Sunset’s willingness to go along with Twilight’s suggestion. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one with an ulterior motive after all.
“That’s great!” said Twilight. She looked at Adagio. “What do you think?”
“I think that they hate me,” said Adagio.
“That’s not entirely true,” said Sunset, sheepishly. “They’re understandably cautious about you showing up out of the blue and hanging out with Twilight. But, if you have nothing to hide, then there shouldn’t be a problem, right?” She cocked an eyebrow.
Other than the fact that I hate all of you? thought Adagio. “No, no problem,” she said through gritted teeth.
With narrowed eyes, Adagio and Sunset glared at one another, before finally Sunset turned away. “Great,” she said, though from the tone of her voice it was clear there was very little about it that she found ‘great’, “I’ll let the others know.”
As Sunset walked away, Twilight shot Adagio a worried look. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked.
“It was your idea, Twilight Sparkle,” responded Adagio.
“I know, but–”
“No buts. I might not like them, but I can tolerate sharing a building with them for a little while if you think it will help. But if they try to blast me with friendship magic I’m using you as a human shield.”
“Noted,” said Twilight. “But I do think it will help. If they see you the way I see you, there’s no doubt in my mind that all this unpleasantness will be behind us before you know it.”
“I don’t think anyone sees me the way you do,” muttered Adagio, casting her eyes downward.
Twilight gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. It was a simple gesture, the touching of hands, but none the less, Adagio couldn’t help but feel comforted by the small embrace. Twilight’s hand was warm and soft, and the way it cupped her own felt almost as if the two were meant to fit together, two separate pieces coming together to form a singular whole.
She supposed human hands were just designed to hold one another.
For a while neither of them spoke. Eventually, Sunset and the rest of the Rainbooms left their table and began their approach. Twilight stood up to greet them, her hand drifting away from Adagio’s but leaving much of its warmth behind. Reluctantly, Adagio followed suit, and was met with looks of suspicion and skepticism.
She couldn’t blame them, but none the less she found herself irritated by it.
“Okay,” said Twilight, “now that all of that’s behind us, I was thinking introductions are in order.”
“But we’ve already met!” said the girl with the puffy, pink hair.
“I know, Pinkie, but this is different. An introduction not between humans and Sirens, but between people. A fresh start.” No one stopped her, so Twilight continued. “Adagio, allow me to introduce you to my friends, Sunset Shimmer, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and Fluttershy. Girls, this is Adagio Dazzle.”
Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “Now that we all know each other, why don’t we top it off with a friendly handshake. Sunset, you go first.”
Suddenly the Rainboom’s ire was no longer focused on Adagio, but upon Rainbow Dash herself. Sunset Shimmer crossed her arms. “Dash,” she said in a dangerous tone.
“What?” said Rainbow Dash, indignantly. “I’m just saying, this would be a lot easier if you’d just–” She was cut off by a sharp elbow to the rib from Applejack. “Oww, fine, whatever. Don’t blame me when she’s all red-eyed and we have to hit her with another rainbow.”
Adagio eyed Rainbow Dash closely. Why did she want Sunset to shake Adagio’s hand? From the reaction of the other girls, Adagio was certain there was something that she was missing, and she didn’t like it.
“Alright, Twilight,” said Applejack, “since you’re the one putting together this little shindig, what’re we doing?”
“Well, my mom wanted me to pick up a couple of outfits to wear to school – I can’t exactly keep wearing my Crystal Prep uniform – so I guess we could start by doing a little clothes shopping.”
“Why didn’t you say so, darling!” said Rarity. “I know the perfect place. Come Monday you’ll be turning heads up and down Canterlot High!” Rarity took Twilight’s hand and began to lead her out of the food court and back into the mall proper.
“Perhaps just the one head, then,” said Rarity coyly, causing Twilight to blush and Adagio to bristle, unconsciously.
The group fell in behind Twilight and Rarity, with Adagio bringing up the rear. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, and hung back just far enough that she didn’t have to join in with any of their conversations. It might even have worked, if one of the girls hadn’t slowed down to talk to her.
“Hi!” said Pinkie Pie, wearing an almost frighteningly cheerful expression.
“Hi,” said Adagio, keeping her gaze fixed directly in front of her. With any luck, the girl would get the hint and leave her alone.
She should have known better, this hadn’t exactly been her lucky day.
At first it seemed as though Adagio had gotten her wish, but then she started to notice things – flash of pink in the corner of her eye, the slightest hint of cotton candy in the air – and when she turned back to see what Pinkie Pie was doing, the girl staring intently at her, barely an inch a way.
Adagio recoiled in surprise and disgust. “What are you doing?!” she demanded.
“Sunset said that Twilight said that you said that you changed, so I wanted to see for myself!” She rubbed her chin. “You look the same to me, though.”
“Well, do it from over there,” said Adagio, putting some distance between them.
“Okey-dokey-lokey!” said Pinkie Pie, and for a few, glorious, seconds, Adagio knew some semblance of peace. Then Pinkie Pie started asking questions. “So, are you and Twilight friends?”
Adagio hunched her shoulders in irritation. Part of her wanted to ignore the question, but in her heart she knew that would only encourage the girl to probe further. Besides, she’d already basically admitted to herself that she might possible consider Twilight Sparkle something akin to what these girls could consider a ‘friend’. If saying it now would make earning the Rainboom’s trust that much easier, then that was that.
“Yes,” she said, “we’re friends.” A slight smile tugged at Adagio’s lips, but she fought it back. Where had that come from?
“Twilight’s my friend, too! And since you’re the friend of my friend, that makes us friends!”
Adagio shuddered in repulsion. The way Pinkie Pie described it, friendship sounded like some sort of communicable disease, and Adagio had just been infected.
She thought about it for a moment. Maybe she’s onto something.
But whether or not friendship was a disease, that didn’t change the fact that Pinkie Pie and Adagio were not friends, and Adagio had to make sure that was abundantly clear.
“That’s not how it works,” she said.
“Yes, it is,” said Pinkie Pie, matter-of-factly.
Adagio scowled. “You don’t just get to decide to be friends with somebody.”
“No, silly, that’s exactly what you do!”
“I think I get some choice in the matter,” insisted Adagio.
“Nope!” said Pinkie Pie.
Adagio felt her nails digging into her palms within the pockets of her hoodie, and was about to retort with a less than friendly response, when another of the Rainbooms broke formation and fell into position between Adagio and her tormentor.
“Pinkie,” said Applejack, “why don’t you go talk to Fluttershy about the bake sale for the animal shelter. You had some ideas about the cupcakes, right?”
“So many!” said Pinkie Pie, before rejoining the rest of the pack. Adagio noted that even her walk had an annoying bubbliness to it.
“Sorry about that,” said Applejack, “she can get a little excited. You get used to it.”
Adagio was absolutely certain she would not get used to it. “I’ll take your word for it.” She glanced at Applejack. “You’re not going to insist on being my friend, are you?”
“Nope. To be frank, I’m a bit skeptical about the whole situation. But Twilight seems to trust you, and I trust Twilight, so I’m giving you a chance – we all are.” She gave a pointed look at Rainbow Dash, who was giving Adagio the stink eye from over her shoulder. “Some of us are happier about it than others.”
So, Pinkie Pie (inexplicably) wanted to be her friend, Rainbow Dash wanted nothing to do with her, and Applejack was on the fence. That was… something. Just as long as they kept their noses out of Adagio’s business, she could tolerate whatever these girls could throw at her.
Probably.
The group arrived at the clothing store, and promptly split off into smaller clusters to do some browsing of their own. Adagio took the opportunity to rejoin Twilight, who clung desperately to an ever-growing stack of clothes, courtesy of Rarity.
“R-Rarity, I can’t afford all of this!” protested Twilight, helplessly.
“Of course not, darling,” said Rarity with a scoff. “But you simply must try them on if we are to find the perfect outfit!”
“It doesn’t have to be perfect–”
Rarity responded with a scandalized gasp. “Nonsense – I won’t hear another word of it! Now, I think this blouse is just your color...”
Rarity tossed another item atop the already towering pile, causing it to sway precariously. Adagio took a step back, not wanting to be in the blast zone when Twilight’s scrawny arms inevitably gave out under the weight, only to collide with someone standing behind her.
“Hey, watch it!”
Rainbow Dash glared at her in irritation, a look that Adagio was happy to return. “You were the one standing behind me, you watch it!” she spat.
“Whatever,” said Rainbow Dash with a shrug.
Adagio growled, biting her tongue to stop herself from saying anything Rainbow Dash might regret. It’s for the plan, she thought, for the plan, for the plan… She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again, only to see Rainbow Dash’s stupid, smug face looking back at her. Her blood began to boil, and Rainbow Dash must have picked up on her frustration, as she shot her a self assured smirk.
That was it. If Adagio was going to get through this without jeopardizing her plan, that meant doing so without murdering any of the Rainbooms, and unfortunately that included Rainbow Dash. She needed space.
“If you’ll excuse me,” said Adagio, before ducking into an aisle and putting as much distance between them as possible. Or so she thought. Behind the very next display, leaning against the wall and wearing an insufferably arrogant smile, was Rainbow Dash.
Adagio’s eye twitched. How had Rainbow Dash beaten her here? It didn’t matter, she was done pretending to be nice. If Rainbow Dash wanted to pick a fight, then a fight she would get. Adagio grabbed a shirt that she had neither the money nor the intention of purchasing and held it up to her chest, pretending to be trying it on.
“If it wasn’t clear, I’m trying to avoid you,” she said, not taking her eyes off the shirt.
“I know,” said Rainbow Dash, “but someone has to keep an eye on you – make sure you don’t try anything.”
Adagio laughed callously. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Steal.”
“Steal? Please, stealing is beneath me.”
It wasn’t.
“Well, whatever you’re up to, I’m not going to let you get away with it.”
Adagio looked up, giving Rainbow Dash a devilish look. “And who’s to say I haven’t already?”
“Aha!” said Rainbow, pointing a finger accusingly. “So you admit it!”
Adagio rolled her eyes. “No, I was mocking you. Are you always this dense?”
It was Rainbow Dash’s turn to growl.
“Besides, if I was up to something, do you really think you’d be the one to figure it out?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do I really have to spell it out for you? You just about gift wrapped your magic for us at the Battle of the Bands – what with all the arguing and showing off. You’re practically an honorary Dazzling!”
It was Rainbow Dash’s turn to laugh. “Sorry, not interested. You’ll have to recruit somewhere else.”
“Excuse me?”
“All I’m saying is my friends are here, and you’re all alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have Twilight Sparkle.”
Rainbow Dash’s hands balled into fists and she took a step forward, menacingly. Adagio reflexively backed away. She might not think much of Rainbow Dash, but she had no delusions that she would win if it came to exchanging blows. Besides, getting into a fistfight wasn’t exactly conducive to getting the Rainbooms to trust her… though this argument hadn’t been, either, but that was Rainbow Dash’s fault, not hers.
Adagio would never find out if Rainbow Dash had intended to hit her, for at that moment Applejack stepped out from an aisle and stood between the two girls. Her look of amusement dissolved into suspicion as she looked between them.
“Everything alright here?” she asked.
“Just fine,” said Adagio.
“Yup,” agreed Rainbow Dash. They glared at one another.
“...Right. Well, c’mon, you two, I got something I want to show you.”
“What is it?” asked Rainbow Dash. Adagio’s curiosity was similarly piqued.
“Trust me, you’re going to want to see this for yourselves.”
“No, this won’t do at all. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking!”
Applejack had lead them to the dressing rooms where, standing before them in what was, perhaps, the single most hideous dress Adagio had ever seen, was Twilight Sparkle.
“Put that in the ‘no’ pile, dear, and put on the next one,” said Rarity, ushering Twilight back into a stall. The door hadn’t been closed for more than a second when Rainbow Dash erupted into laughter.
“Rarity, what the heck was that? She looked like an eggplant!”
“I can hear you, you know!” came Twilight’s muffled voice from behind the door, which only made Rainbow laugh harder. Adagio couldn’t help but chuckle.
“It looked better on the shelf,” said Rarity, before shooting Applejack a pointed look. “You didn’t bring them over here just to poke fun, did you?”
“Maybe,” replied Applejack, trying unsuccessfully to hide her snickering.
Rarity huffed. “Well, I’m sure the next one will be better.”
It was worse.
Rainbow Dash fell to the floor, clutching her stomach as she cackled like a hyena. Even Applejack could no longer contain herself, and laughed openly while wiping a tear from her eye.
“Sugarcube, you look like the losing end of a fight between a sunflower and an orangutan!”
“I think I might have grabbed that one by mistake,” said Rarity, daintily covering her mouth with her hand.
“Adagio?” Twilight looked at her with her big, puppy dog eyes, and for a moment, Adagio was severely tempted to reassure her.
A second look at the dress fixed that.
“It’s terrible,” admitted Adagio.
Twilight slumped and returned to the stall. “I hate clothes shopping,” she muttered, electing a shocked gasp from Rarity.
“You don’t mean that!” she said, approaching the stall. “Why don’t I come in there and help you put an outfit together?” Twilight didn’t respond, but the door opened just enough to allow Rarity to slip inside.
By that time, Applejack and Rainbow Dash (and, though she hated to admit it, Adagio) had each managed to compose themselves.
“Rarity’s got a real eye for fashion, but I tell ya, sometimes she puts together some real doozies.”
“Like your outfits at the Battle of the Bands?” asked Adagio.
“You’re one to talk,” said Rainbow Dash.
“And what does that mean, exactly?”
“That’s rich coming from the girl who wore that purple getup to school,” said Applejack. “You know, the one with the spiked heels?”
“And what was wrong with that?” asked Adagio. Applejack and Rainbow Dash shared a look, before resuming their laughter, and to her surprise, Adagio didn’t feel the urge to return the insult. Instead, she found herself laughing with them.
Maybe the heels had been a bit much, but she was trying to take over the world, after all.
“Well,” said Applejack, “you’re dressing more sensible now. Maybe that says something.”
Maybe it did.
The stall door opened once again and Rarity emerged. She cleared her throat. “Ladies, your attention, please. I believe we have a winner.” With a flourish, Rarity opened the door and stepped aside, revealing Twilight standing behind her.
Adagio’s jaw dropped.
Perhaps it was the contrast with the horrific dresses that had come before it, but Twilight looked absolutely radiant. She wore a purple skirt with a starburst pattern and frills on the bottom, a rose vest over a pale blue blouse with short, puffed sleeves, a pair of matching socks that reached just below her knee, and, to top it all off, a cute little bowtie. It was dorky and adorable (there really should be a word for that!) and, as far as Adagio was concerned, Twilight really pulled it off.
“What’s with the bowtie?” asked Rainbow Dash. Applejack elbowed her in the ribs. “Ouch, same spot!”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” said Applejack, giving a thumbs up. Twilight turned her gaze upon Adagio, who quickly snapped her mouth shut.
“What do you think?” Twilight asked.
Suddenly, Adagio became distinctly aware that she was staring at Twilight. But where was she supposed to look? She looked over Twilight once more, felt a flash of heat in her cheeks, before fixing her eyes to the floor.
“It’s, umm, really… nice.”
Nice? Come on, you can do better than that!
“Do you not like it?” There was something about the vulnerability in Twilight’s voice that grabbed hold of Adagio’s heartstrings and pulled.
“No,” said Adagio, “I mean, I do like it! It looks really good. I really like the...” everything “...socks.”
She did really like the socks.
“Are you sure?”
Adagio pulled herself together and looked Twilight in the eyes. “I am.”
A hint of pink returned to Twilight’s cheeks, mirroring Adagio’s own, and she smiled. Rarity gave them an inquisitive look, but said nothing.
“Alright, I’ll change back into my regular clothes and we can get out of here.”
Rarity frowned. “But what about the rest of the–” Twilight gave her a pleading look. Rarity sighed. “Very well, but mark my words, one of these days, Twilight, you’ll look into your closet and realize you have an entirely new, entirely fabulous, wardrobe.”
“And I’ll have you to thank for it,” said Twilight, with a smile.
“We done here?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“Unfortunately,” lamented Rarity. She watched Twilight return one final time to the stall, before turning towards Rainbow Dash and Applejack. “Why don’t you two go find Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Sunset. We’ll meet you outside.”
“But what about–” started Rainbow Dash, only to be cut off by Rarity.
“I assure you I have everything here completely under control.”
Rainbow Dash’s eyes darted between Rarity and Adagio, and after a moment of deliberation, she relented. “Alright, just don’t take too long.”
“C’mon, Dash, I bet we’ll find Fluttershy at the pet store ‘cross the way.”
Applejack and Rainbow Dash walked off, leaving Adagio alone with Rarity. Adagio would have been content to wait for Twilight in silence but, once again, fate had other plans.
“So, you and Twilight?”
Adagio had to do a double take. “I’m sorry?”
“Twilight, dear, she’s tutoring you?”
“Oh,” said Adagio. For a second there she’d thought that Rarity was implying… well, it didn’t matter. “Yeah, she is.”
“Well, you certainly made the right choice. I couldn’t imagine a better tutor than Twilight.”
“It wasn’t exactly a choice,” said Adagio, “it just sort of… happened.”
Rarity touched a finger to her lips, thoughtfully. “Well, nevertheless, private tutoring sessions with Twilight Sparkle – I know a certain young gentleman who would love such an opportunity.”
Adagio stiffened, and Rarity watched her intently. She was talking about Timber, a subject that brought with it a whole flurry of emotions that Adagio both did not understand, and did not want to deal with. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and cast her gaze upon the tiled floor.
“Yes,” continued Rarity after it became clear that Adagio wasn’t going to respond, “yes, it was a shame to hear about what happened on their date last night.”
“Wait, what?” Rarity now had Adagio’s full attention. Had something happened after Twilight and Timber had left last night?
Rarity must have picked up on Adagio’s sudden shift in demeanor, as a knowing smile spread across her lips and she leaned in conspiratorially. “Well,” she said, lowering her voice dramatically, “you didn’t hear this from me, but–”
Rarity stopped abruptly as Twilight stepped out of the changing room, holding her new outfit in a neatly folded pile before her.
“But?” prompted Adagio, but Rarity only winked at her and waved Twilight over.
“Twilight, darling, we were just talking about you!”
Twilight blinked, and glanced at Adagio. “You were? Nothing bad, I hope.”
“Perish the thought! Adagio was positively singing your praises!”
Adagio opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. What was Rarity playing at? On the one hand, her story was certainly better than admitting they’d been gossiping about Twilight’s love life (not that Adagio cared, of course), but Adagio would be more comfortable if she understood Rarity’s motivation.
At least Rainbow Dash had been straightforward.
“Oh,” said Twilight, a slight blush finding its way once more to her cheeks.
“Well, I’m sure the others are waiting on us, so let’s not dally!”
Rarity led them to the to the counter so Twilight could pay for her clothes, only to hold the entire process up by searching her purse for a discount card, leaving Adagio and Twilight to stand quietly behind her, exchanging little smiles and brief moments of eye contact that brought back memories of the long night they’d spent at the library.
Timber couldn’t take that from her.
“Ah, here it is!” proclaimed Rarity, proudly producing the card and laying it on the counter before them. A bored looking employee swiped the card and ushered Twilight (who looked apologetically at the small line forming behind them) forward to pay. The employee quickly bagged Twilight’s purchase and sent the girls on their way.
“Thanks for helping me, girls,” said Twilight as they exited the store. “I really hate shopping by myself.”
Rarity waved a hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it, dear.”
Adagio shrugged. “I didn’t really do anything.”
“Nonsense, darling, you had some lovely things to say about her… socks.”
Adagio rolled her eyes, and Twilight stifled a giggle.
“The important thing was that you were there,” said Rarity. “Sometimes that’s all that matters. Oh, look, there they are. Girls!” Rarity raised a hand and waved down the rest of the Rainbooms, who were waiting by a bench. Adagio and Twilight fell in behind her as they approached.
“Holding up okay?”
Adagio shrugged in response to Twilight’s question. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? Because if you want to leave–”
Adagio stopped in place. “Twilight Sparkle, if I wanted to leave, I’d have left already.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Adagio did want to leave, it was simply lower on her priority list than convincing the Rainbooms she wasn’t a threat, and not disappointing Twilight Sparkle.
“Alright,” said Twilight, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. “I just don’t want you to feel obligated to stick around just for me.”
“That is literally the only reason I’m here.”
Again, not entirely true, but it was enough for Twilight.
“Well, thanks, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad you’re here, too.”
‘Hanging out’ was somewhat of a foreign concept to Adagio.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t understand it – because really, what was there to understand? – it was merely something she had precious little experience with. In Equestria, despite being at the peak of her magical might, Adagio had always sought more. More power, more magic, more of everything. After her defeat and banishment to this world, she spent her time struggling to get by on what little magic she and the other Sirens had been able to wring out of the (mostly) magicless humans. Even after being defeated once again, this time by the Rainbooms, Adagio still did not have the luxury of a break – Crystal Prep was anything but a free ride, and Adagio spent every moment either scheming or clawing her way back from the brink of oblivion. Even her time with Twilight was primarily spent studying. As such, the idea of ‘just doing whatever’ sat poorly with her.
The Rainbooms did not share her reservations.
After they’d finished their clothes shopping (although, by the end of the day, Adagio was convinced that Rarity was never truly finished clothes shopping), and now lacking a specific goal, proceeded to do absolutely nothing.
Okay, so it may not have been literally nothing, but it certainly felt that way to Adagio. They meandered aimlessly through the West Canterlot Mall, prattling on about this and that, occasionally stopping into whatever happened to catch their interest, and even then, rarely making a purchase.
For the most part, Adagio found herself lingering at the back of the group, an outsider looking in on a world she didn’t fully comprehend. Every now and then one of the girls (usually Twilight) would slow down and try to make conversation. It was a pointless exercise, but Adagio would do her best to indulge them. After all, this was all part of the plan, right?
The hours passed slowly, but eventually the ‘hanging out’ came to a close. It began with the girls lamenting the various responsibilities they had to return to (unsurprisingly, the act of doing nothing ended when one was forced to do something), and from there moved on to discussing their assorted means of egress.
It was during this conversation that Adagio received a text message from Sugarcoat.
‘We are going to get food at the WCM, if you still want to come.’
So, Adagio was trading time at the mall with one group of girls she didn’t particularly like (with one exception) for another (again, with one exception). A little voice inside of her cried out, wanting nothing than to go back to her room and not talk to another human until Monday, but she ignored it. Spending time with Sugarcoat might not have been part of her plan but, unfortunately, Adagio was a human now, and humans had to eat.
Besides, she was already here.
‘I’ll meet you there.’
She looked up from her phone at Twilight, who had, moments ago, offered Adagio a ride home with Cadance and Shining Armor.
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to stick around here for a while longer.”
“Oh,” said Twilight, “okay.” It was clear that she was curious, but was polite enough not to pry.
Rainbow Dash was not.
“Why?” she asked. “Meeting up with the rest of your Siren buddies?”
“My roommate, actually,” replied Adagio, curtly. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Rainbow Dash huffed. “A likely story.”
“Dash,” said Sunset in a warning tone, “keep it up and Fluttershy will make you walk home.”
“Goodness, I would never–” Fluttershy caught Sunset’s look and cut herself off. “Right, walk.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, but dropped the matter nonetheless.
The Rainbooms shared heartfelt (and, in Adagio’s opinion, somewhat excessive) goodbyes, and began to trickle out of the mall, until only Adagio, Twilight, and Sunset Shimmer remained.
“You sure we can’t give you a ride home?” Twilight asked Sunset, who waved her off.
“Thanks, but it’s a nice night, and I’m in the mood to stretch my legs.”
Twilight put her hands on her hips and pouted. “Both of you turned down a ride home – do I smell or something?”
Like lavender, Adagio remembered. Sunset laughed.
“It’s okay, Twilight, really.”
Twilight looked like she was about to respond, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. “That’s my ride,” she said. “I’ll see both of you on Monday!”
And with that, Adagio Dazzle was alone with Sunset Shimmer.
Adagio shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Sunset Shimmer rubbed her neck. Neither of them looked at the other. There was a long, pregnant pause before Sunset broke the silence.
“Okay, I’m going to say this once and get it out of the way: I know what it’s like. I’ve been the former villain, the girl on the outside wondering what’s so special about the whole ‘friendship’ thing, or if there was any way I could learn to actually like these girls. So, if you’re really serious about turning things around, and you need to talk to someone who’s been there… I’ll be around.” She looked Adagio in the eye, her expression hardening. “Twilight’s putting a lot of faith in you, and it’s going to crush her if it turns out to be misplaced. So, if this is just some game you’re playing to get back at us, keep her out of it.”
There was a stretch of about twenty minutes between Sunset’s departure and Sugarcoat’s arrival that Adagio was left to consider Sunset’s words. On the one hand, returning to her full strength was all Adagio had dreamed about since her first night in this world. It was the goal that kept her going through the darkest of times, and was the focus of all of her machinations. But on the other hand…
Twilight Sparkle.
It was foolish to think she could have them both. The Rainbooms would never allow her to have her magic back unopposed, but defeating them would mean losing Twilight. Of course, when the world was hers and the hearts and minds of all of its people were under her control, she could simply tell Twilight to forgive her, couldn’t she?
Adagio didn’t realize she’d been pacing until she abruptly stopped. Suddenly she felt sick to her stomach and cold, so very cold. She imagined Twilight standing before her, an adoring smile plastered across her face but a dullness in her eyes that – despite it being a figment of her imagination – shook Adagio to her core. Twilight would do whatever she asked her to – they all would – but, for the first time, thinking of her conquest felt… wrong. She could simply not put Twilight under her spell, dooming Adagio to lose her first and only friend, but the alternative – the mental violation of Twilight Sparkle – was so much worse.
Adagio looked down at her trembling hands. Maybe she was a monster after all.
Sugarcoat stood before her, her brow furrowed in concern (though, to Adagio’s newly awakened conscience, it looked a lot more like disdain). “You were just standing there staring at the floor. It was weird.”
“I was waiting for you,” said Adagio and, noticing a slight tremble in her voice, forced the dark thoughts to the back of her mind. She could figure it out later – she would figure it out later – but right now she needed to get a hold of herself.
“Why were you staring at the floor?”
“I thought I dropped something.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You can’t drop n–”
“I know you can’t drop nothing!” snapped Adagio, wincing at the harshness of her tone. This was decidedly not getting a hold of herself. She closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, and sighed. “Sorry, just… don’t worry about it. What are we eating?”
Sugarcoat’s expression remained neutral throughout Adagio’s outburst. As obtuse as Rainbow Dash had been, at least she was easy to read. “Pizza,” said Sugarcoat, simply, motioning for Adagio to follow.
Adagio fell in beside her, her hand gravitating to the rear pocket of her jeans. Inside, Adagio felt the crumpled forms of several small bills. With their magic, the Sirens had little need for money: they might not have been able to fully control the minds of these humans (Adagio once again banished a vision of the dull-eyed Twilight Sparkle from her thoughts), but they could usually manage to convince them to acquire things when the Sirens needed them. Nonetheless, Adagio had held on to some of the human currency as a backup plan. It wasn’t much, but in an emergency, it was better than nothing.
And, fortunately for Adagio, pizza was cheap.
The rest of the – ugh – ‘Crystal Prep Breakfast Club’ (Adagio made a mental note to come up with a better name for the group) were waiting nearby. Indigo Zap, who had been lounging on a bench, stood up as they approached.
“So, she actually showed up,” she said, looking almost surprised. Adagio cocked an eyebrow. “No offense, Dazzle, but when Sugarcoat said you’d meet us here I was pretty sure it code for you bailing.”
The implication that Adagio would renege on her word irked her. It wasn’t unfounded, but Indigo Zap didn’t need to know that. Adagio folded her arms in mild irritation. “Well, I’m here.”
“And we’re so glad to have you!” said Sour Sweet, disingenuously, before muttering something else under her breath that Adagio didn’t catch.
So, this was how this was going to be? Adagio briefly considered leaving – she’d dealt with more than her share of petulant teenagers for one day – but dismissed the thought. That would mean proving Indigo Zap’s point, and Adagio was far too proud to let that happen. Instead, she shot Sour Sweet a fake smile of her own, and moved on.
The pizza place was very crowded. This wasn’t exactly a surprise – it was a Saturday evening after all – but in an unprecedented stroke of luck, another group had vacated just before Adagio and company arrived, leaving an empty booth. It was a little tight, but in the end, all six of them managed to squeeze in.
Then came the arguing.
“Mushrooms? Seriously?” It occurred to Adagio that, before today, she’d never heard Sunny Flare speak. That changed, however, when the girl turned out to be extremely opinionated about pizza toppings.
They all were.
“What’s wrong with mushrooms?” asked Sugarcoat.
“Oh, nothing,” seethed Sour Sweet, “if you want to ruin a pizza!”
“They’re literally a fungus,” said Sunny Flare.
“Meat lovers!” cried Indigo Zap.
“I don’t eat meat,” replied Sugarcoat.
“Me either,” said Adagio. It wasn’t necessarily true – Adagio disliked meat as much as she disliked all human food – but had felt compelled to side with Sugarcoat.
Indigo Zap shook her head. “You girls are hopeless.”
“Dude,” said Lemon Zest, lowering her menu and touching one of the selections with her finger. “Hawaiian!”
“Eww,” said Sunny Flare.
“Hawaiian pizza has ham,” said Sugarcoat.
“And pineapple!” added Indigo Zap, screwing up her face and sticking out her tongue in disgust.
“Good choice, Lemon Zest,” cooed Sour Sweet, “you managed to find the one thing everyone hates equally!”
Lemon Zest shrugged and looked back at her menu.
Adagio glanced over at Sugarcoat. “Is it like this every time you girls go out?”
“We’re new at this,” said Sugarcoat. Adagio cocked an eyebrow, but Sugarcoat didn’t elaborate.
“Alright,” said Adagio, turning her gaze back to her own menu. “Let’s try this again.”
“That was exhausting.”
Adagio and Sugarcoat trudged up the stairs to the third floor of the Crystal Prep girls’ dormitory. Adagio’s feet were heavy, and she could practically feel the bags forming under her eyes. The long day of social interaction had taken its toll, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse onto her bed and put this long, frustrating day behind her.
She reached the top of the stairs and opened the stairwell door, stepping through and holding it open for Sugarcoat, who followed before stopping abruptly in the hallway. Adagio followed her gaze down the hall to a lone figure who sat, hugging her knees, with her head resting against the door to their room.
Adagio sighed. “What do you want, Sonata?”
Sonata’s head jolted up and she looked around blearily before finally managing to focus on Adagio. She planted her hands on her knees and forced herself into a standing position, wobbling a little before managing to regain her balance.
“‘Dagi, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you, like, all day!”
“I was out,” said Adagio, curtly, her arms akimbo and her hip cocked to one side. “What do you want?” she repeated.
“I want to talk to you. About Aria.”
Of course she did. Adagio glanced at Sugarcoat and nodded towards the door. “Go on,” she said, “I’ll be in in a minute.”
Sugarcoat skirted around Sonata, opened the door and, after a brief look back at Adagio and Sonata, left the two girls alone in the hallway.
“Alright,” said Adagio. “Talk.”
“Okay, so, I know you’re not talking to Aria–”
“I’m not ‘not talking to’ Aria,” interrupted Adagio, “we just haven’t spoken.”
“Sure,” said Sonata, “whatever. The point is, it’s been, like, three days! She’s always with the dumb basketball team, and you’re always in that stupid lab!”
“Keep your voice down!” chided Adagio.
Sonata let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re not listening!”
“I am listening,” said Adagio. “It’s been three days since I’ve talked to Aria, so what? Would you rather us be fighting?”
“No! I just… I want things to go back to how they used to be.”
“So do I,” said Adagio. “Which is why I’m working so hard to–” she lowered her voice “–to get our magic back. Something Aria doesn’t seem to be taking very seriously.”
“She is taking it seriously!” insisted Sonata. “We both are! It’s just... ”
“It’s just what?”
“How can we help if you won’t tell us what to do?” Adagio scoffed and Sonata looked at her incredulously. “You’re the leader, ‘Dagi, and you’ve always told us what to do. Aria might not like it, but she always does what you tell her to, right?”
Adagio nodded, begrudgingly.
“So tell us, what’s the plan?”
“We’re going to fix the device and–”
“How? How do we fix it?”
“I’m working on it.”
Sonata threw up her hands in exasperation. “This is what I’m talking about! You’re mad that we’re not helping you, but you won’t tell us how we can!”
Adagio glowered at her. As much as she hated to admit it (and she really hated to admit it), Sonata had a point. Adagio couldn’t tell them about her plan to trick Twilight Sparkle into teaching her to rebuild her device – not without admitting that she’d been fraternizing with the Rainbooms, anyway – and she certainly couldn’t tell them about her being on academic probation. So what could she do?
Sonata, as it turned out, already had a solution.
“I want you to come to Aria’s basketball game tomorrow.”
Adagio stared at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“Come on,” urged Sonata, “it could be fun! ...Okay, so it will probably be totally lame, but we can sit in the stands and talk about how lame it is! I know Aria won’t say it, but I know it would mean a lot to her if you went.”
Adagio wasn’t buying it. “Why would she care whether I go to her pointless game or not?”
“She just would!” said Sonata. “So, will you come?”
Adagio rubbed her eyes. She was too tired for this conversation. Of course Sonata’s plan wouldn’t work – Sonata had come up with it, after all – but Adagio’s fatigue addled mind simply could not find the words to explain this to her without prolonging their already tedious argument. She could simply turn her down, but that would only encourage Sonata to bother her more in the days to come. Adagio groaned. She knew what she had to do.
“Fine,” she said, “I’ll go.”
Sonata’s eyes widened and her face lit up. “Really?” she asked. “You’ll go?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” snapped Adagio. Why did everyone assume she wouldn’t keep her word? “Now, I’m going to bed before I come to my senses and change my mind.”
Sonata clapped her hands together gleefully. “The game’s in the afternoon, so I’ll come get you around then and we can walk down together. Goodnight, ‘Dagi!”
Adagio grunted a response, turning her back on Sonata and staring at the door to her room, the last barrier that stood between her and the rest she so desperately needed. She sighed.
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
Adagio regretted everything.
She regretted being defeated by Star Swirl the Bearded and being banished from Equestria. She regretted being defeated again by the Rainbooms and having her opportunity to undo the wrongs that had befallen her snatched away. She regretted being suckered into being a tool for Abacus Cinch, and she regretted her carelessness in being found out by Sunset Shimmer.
But right now what she regretted most was agreeing to Sonata’s plan.
Sleep had done little to relieve Adagio’s weariness, but it had cleared her mind just enough to remember that she’d agreed to spend the day with the other Sirens, a thought that appealed to her about as much as the idea of being trapped in an alien world with them. Furthermore, she had to waste her time feeding Aria’s already hyperinflated ego and watching her run around playing a game whose rules she only had a passing understanding of.
In short, today was going to be terrible.
The insistent buzzing of her phone jerked Adagio from her melancholy, and she reached beneath her pillow to retrieve the irksome object. It was Twilight Sparkle, of course, only two people had her phone number, and if Sugarcoat wanted something she’d only have to raise her voice a little.
...Okay, so maybe it could have been Sugarcoat.
Adagio swiped through the menus of her phone to reach the message. She might not be an expert with technology, but given how short a period she’d had the device, she thought she was starting to get the hang of this ‘texting’ thing. As if to prove the point, Adagio opened the text with a flourish of her finger.
‘Hi,’ it said.
Adagio smiled. ‘Hi,’ she replied.
The little icon of an ellipses appeared at the bottom of the screen, which Adagio had determined meant that the other party was composing their message. This had sat poorly with her, as every time she saw it she was reminded of her first text-conversation with Twilight, and how many times she’d typed a message only to immediately erase it. Had Twilight been privy to Adagio’s struggle?
She felt heat building in her cheeks, prompting her to jam her eyes shut and exhale sharply, a futile attempt to distance herself from her shame. What was it about lying in bed that made one remember their each and every embarrassing incident?
The phone buzzed again and Adagio shook her head, dispelling the thoughts.
‘Did you have fun yesterday?’
‘Yeah,’ typed Adagio, only to delete it as soon as she finished. Twilight was too smart for that, and though Adagio’s initial response was to lie, she realized that she didn’t actually want to deceive Twilight.
She sighed. I’m such a hypocrite, she thought, and typed her reply.
‘No, but it could have been worse.’
There was a short pause before Twilight replied. ‘That’s fair, but I’m kind of glad it happened the way it did. It’s a relief having everything out in the open.’
‘Yeah,’ responded Adagio, ‘it’s nice.’
Such a hypocrite.
A sudden flurry of knocks at the door surprised Adagio, causing her to fumble and drop her phone squarely onto the bridge of her nose. She swore and clutched her face; her eyes watered and her nose stung, but the real injury was to her pride.
“‘Dagi!” Sonata’s muffled call echoed from the hallway, and was punctuated by another trio of loud knocks. “You’d better be in there!”
Adagio’s eye twitched, and she briefly considered not responding. “I’m here,” she said, sitting up.
“What?” cried Sonata.
“I said I’m here!”
“Oh. Well, come let me in!”
Adagio growled and reluctantly climbed down from her bunk, taking her time as she shuffled over to the door.
“Finally,” said Sonata as Adagio opened the door and, looking her up and down, she frowned. “‘Dagi, did you just get out of bed? It’s, like, one o’clock.”
“It’s not–” Adagio looked at her phone, which confirmed that it was five after one.
I guess I slept longer than I thought.
Spotting Adagio’s phone, Sonata snaked her hand into the pocket of her hoodie and withdrew a phone of her own. “Look, ‘Dagi, I got one, too!”
“Why do you need a phone?” asked Adagio, skeptically. “Do you even talk to anyone?”
“I talk to people!” insisted Sonata.
“People other than me and Aria?”
“Yes!”
Adagio rolled her eyes.
“Now,” said Sonata, extending her hand towards Adagio, “give me your phone so I can put my number in it.”
“No!” Adagio clutched her phone jealously to her chest, unwilling to risk Sonata discovering her conversations with Twilight Sparkle. Sonata withdrew her hand as if she’d been struck, and Adagio quickly tried to cover her tracks. “You’d probably put it in wrong and end up texting someone in a different city. Let me put my number in your phone.”
Adagio sighed in exasperation. Why was Sonata being so difficult? “Fine, just read your number out to me and I’ll put it in myself.”
“Why don’t you read your number to me,” said Sonata.
“Fine, whatever, let’s just do this.”
Sonata smirked, clearly relishing her ‘victory’ in what she must have perceived as a battle of wills. Her smugness quickly evaporated into bewilderment as she poked uncertainly at her phone.
“Where do I find my number?”
Adagio lowered her face into her palm. “What did I do to deserve this?” she asked, knowing full well the answer to her rhetorical question.
Fortunately, Sonata’s phone was nearly identical to Adagio’s, allowing her to talk Sonata through the process of finding her own phone number without much difficulty – not including the difficulties imposed by virtue of having to communicate with Sonata, that is. What should have taken mere seconds took the two girls nearly five minutes, but, eventually, they found it, and Adagio sent Sonata a text.
The phone made an obnoxious series of chirps (Adagio now understood why Twilight had insisted she put the phone on ‘vibrate’) making both girls jump.
“I got a text!” declared Sonata, jabbing at the screen until she managed to get it open. “It just says ‘Hi.’ I wonder who it’s from?”
Adagio blinked at her, but Sonata continued to stare blankly at the text. She typed something else and hit send.
The phone chirped again.
“Hey – this time it says ‘You’re an Idiot.’ That’s not very nice!”
Adagio couldn’t help but snicker. Realization dawned on Sonata’s face.
“Not funny, ‘Dagi!” She furiously typed her response – or, at least, as furious as she could using only her index finger.
‘no u r 1.’
“Good comeback,” deadpanned Adagio. How am I the one on academic probation?
“I thought so,” said Sonata.
“Anyway,” said Aragio, her patience already beginning to wane, “what time does the game start?”
Sonata rubbed her chin and screwed up her face in an obvious attempt to coordinate what little brain power she could muster. “Two o’clock,” said Sonata. “I think.”
“You think?”
Sonata nodded. “Yup!”
“Alright,” said Adagio, “I’m going to take a shower.” She tucked her phone into her bag and began to gather the rest of her necessities that had inexplicably become scattered about the room.
“What am I supposed to do?” pouted Sonata.
“Go back to your room,” said Adagio. “Or stay here, I don’t care, just don’t touch anything!”
Adagio slipped into the hallway while Sonata pondered her options, letting the door close behind her with a satisfying click.
She grit her teeth. “You can do this, Adagio,” she told herself, and made her way towards the showers. When had talking to Sonata become such a chore? The question practically answered itself: it had always been a chore, the only difference between now and the times before was that Adagio was willingly subjecting herself to it.
But that was the way it had to be, wasn’t it? The Sirens power was strongest when they were together, and when their power returned and this world turned against them (including all its smart, dorky girls), they would need that strength to take what was rightfully theirs. Two worlds in exchange for an eternity with Aria and Sonata, and the more Adagio thought about it, the less appealing the deal became.
She reached the bathroom, set her bag down on the counter by the sink, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. A tired, unfamiliar girl stared back at her.
Even hot water was unable to lift Adagio’s spirits, so when she returned to her room to find Sonata trying on her pendant, she was unsurprisingly upset.
“I told you not to touch anything,” she said, her eyes narrowing into slits.
Sonata, for the most part, ignored her, instead continuing to admire herself in the room’s mirror.
“What do you think, ‘Dagi? It kind of looks like our old pendants, huh? Except, you know, smaller.”
“Of course it does,” growled Adagio, “it’s a piece of the pendant.”
Sonata looked at her quizzically. “Does it–”
“No, it doesn’t work.”
“Huh,” said Sonata. “So, what’s the point of it?”
“It doesn’t have a point, it just looks pretty.”
“Does that mean I can have it?”
“What? No, you can’t have it, it’s mine.”
Sonata pouted at her, her lip quivering pathetically. “Please?” she begged, drawing out the sound sound of the ‘e’. The tactic might have worked on someone else, but Adagio remained unmoved.
“No,” she said, sternly. “Now, give it back.”
Sonata’s moping continued as she fumbled with the clasp and, eventually, handed the necklace back to Adagio, who put it on.
“No fair,” said Sonata, and Adagio rolled her eyes.
“Can we go to the stupid game and get this over with already?”
Sonata agreed, and together the two girls made their way out of the dormitory and towards the gymnasium. At first, the campus seemed as uncharacteristically empty as it had the day before, but as they approached the parking lot it appeared that that wasn’t the case. In addition to the surprising number of cars parked there (among them, Adagio noted, was that of Dean Cadance), there was a yellow school bus with a bored looking man sitting in the driver’s seat reading a newspaper.
“Appleloosa,” read Sonata from the side of the bus, “where’s that?”
“I don’t know,” said Adagio. Had the other team come from out of town just for this? Adagio could barely be bothered to walk two minutes. “It doesn’t matter.”
Sonata shrugged, and the two girls continued into the gymnasium. Or, at least, they would have, if a sign on the door didn’t bar them from entering.
“Please use other door.” This time it was Adagio doing the reading. “What other door?”
“The one inside the school, I guess,” said Sonata.
“Seriously? Why can’t we just use this one?”
Sonata shrugged.
Unwilling to be pushed around by a sign, Adagio tried the door anyway. It was locked.
“Well, we tried. I’m going back to my room.”
She’d barely taken a step before Sonata reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Come on, ‘Dagi!”
Adagio snatched her hand away with a huff. “Fine, fine,” she said. It wasn’t as if she was actually going back to her room… well, she might have if Sonata hadn’t stopped her. But she knew Sonata would have stopped her, and therefore she knew she wouldn’t get out of this torture that easily.
Without any further delays, the girls entered the school through the main entrance and arrived at the correct door to the gymnasium. Opening it, Adagio was struck by what felt like a solid wall of noise.
It wasn’t difficult to tell where the noise was coming from. There were two distinct sets of bleachers, one on each side of the basketball court, one which was sparsely populated by evenly spread groups of two to four individuals (most of them adults, with the occasional student mixed in); while the other was absolutely packed with people. Young and old, men and women, all of them crammed in shoulder-to-shoulder, some holding hand made signs (‘Let’s go, Cowpoke!’), others others waving flags, and all of them being loud.
Adagio could scarcely believe it. Not only had all these people come from who-knows-where to watch this game, they were thrilled to do it! The din of the crowd was akin to that of any of the Dazzling’s performances, and the game hadn’t even started yet!
“C’mon, let’s grab a seat!”
Snapping out of her shock, Adagio followed Sonata towards Crystal Prep’s set of bleachers, noticing as she walked several familiar faces that she’d missed in her initial scan of the room. Not technically on the bleachers, but in front of them, sat Dean Cadance and Principal Cinch at a long, rectangular table, accompanied by a pair of people Adagio could only assume represented Appleloosa. On the end of the bleachers nearest to Adagio sat Fleur de Lis, her wrist still wrapped in a cast, and in the very back, leaning against the wall, was Indigo Zap, who immediately waved at Adagio.
“Hey, Dazzle!” she called. “What are you doing here?”
Adagio winced. Suddenly, all eyes were on them, and a murmur spread across the Crystal Prep crowd. Clearly, this sort of outburst – while tolerable from the opposing school – was unwelcome on this side of the court. Fleur shot Adagio an absolutely scathing look before pointedly turning her attention back to the court, while Dean Cadance smiled cheerfully and waved. Principal Cinch didn’t even look at her.
“Who’s that?” asked Sonata, pointing a thumb at Indigo Zap.
“That’s Indigo Zap, you’ve met,” said Adagio.
“Really? When?”
Adagio sighed. “I think that Friendship Magic gave you brain damage,” she muttered, quickening her pace.
“What?”
“Nothing, nevermind.”
The Sirens mounted the bleachers, choosing to take their seats next to Indigo Zap. Adagio didn’t have any particular desire to talk to the girl, but she really did not want to give her any reason to shout again.
“Why are there so many people over there?” asked Sonata, struggling to get comfortable on the tough wooden bench.
“That’s Appleloosa for you,” said Indigo Zap. “Half the town shows up to away games, and for home games the whole place shuts down. Don’t know why, they must really like watching their team lose.”
Adagio cocked an eyebrow. “You think they’ll lose?”
“So if everyone already knows who’s going to win, why bother showing up?”
Indigo Zap shrugged. “Beats me. Only reason these people are here is because someone they’re related to is on the team. Call it a family obligation, or whatever.”
“And her?” Adagio nodded at Fleur de Lis. “Why’s she here?”
“Probably the same reason I am,” said Indigo Zap, “spite.”
Sonata frowned. “Spite?”
“Yup.” Indigo Zap laced her fingers together behind her head and leaned backwards. “Both of us think the team would be better off if we were on it.”
“But I thought you said Crystal Prep was going to win?” asked Sonata.
“They will, they’d just win better if I was playing. But that doesn’t explain what you two are doing here. No offence, but I was there for your entrance exam – neither of you are really the athletic type.”
Adagio scowled. She could be the ‘athletic type’ if she wanted, but she didn’t, because sports were stupid.
“We’re here to watch Aria!” said Sonata.
“She’s your friend, huh?”
“Yeah!” said Sonata.
No, thought Adagio.
“Well, I’ve heard she’s good – maybe even better than Fleur.” Indigo Zap smirked, casting her gaze down towards where Fleur was sitting. “There’s a rumor going around that they’re going to keep her on, even after Fleur’s wrist heals. If I was Fleur, I’d be here hoping she catches an elbow to the face.”
Adagio was almost impressed. She’d only briefly seen Fleur’s basketball skills at work, but it was clear that the girl had talent. Was it possible that Aria was good at something other than complaining? Some hidden depth that Aria had kept secret all these years?
Probably not, but on the other hand, Adagio never thought she’d spend a Saturday afternoon with the Rainbooms, either.
A shrill whistle cut through the air, silencing even the rowdy Appleloosans as the players surged forward, preparing to start the game. Among them Adagio caught her first glimpse of Aria, dressed in the Crystal Prep team uniform and wearing a look of focus and determination that caught Adagio off guard. Aria was taking this seriously.
Two more short blasts of the whistle and the game had officially begun. The quiet that have overtaken the gymnasium was broken by the bouncing of the ball, the screech of rubber against the polished wooden floor, and the cries coming from the bleachers across the way. As before, the residents of the Crystal Prep side of the gym remained stoic, quietly following the ball as the two teams fought for control and positioning. Even Indigo Zap had abandoned her relaxed pose for one of intense focus, her elbows resting on her knees as she sat, hunching forward, her eyes laser focused on the action. Within the span of a minute, the everyone in the gymnasium had become engrossed in watching how the game unfolded.
Everyone, that is, except for Adagio and Sonata.
Sonata, for her part, was trying. She followed along, nudging Adagio excitedly whenever Aria had the ball, but despite her enthusiasm, there were times when her eyes wandered restlessly away from the game. It wasn’t her fault, paying attention was never Sonata’s strong suit, but the way she’d occasionally nag Indigo Zap to fill her in on what she’d missed seemed to be getting on the girl’s nerves.
At first, Adagio was legitimately watching the game. This lasted all of about ten seconds, until she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She slipped it out, holding it low so no one on the court could see that she was using it (not that anyone on the court was looking at her), and checked her messages.
‘What are you doing today?’ asked the text. It was from Twilight.
‘Watching a basketball game,’ replied Adagio.
‘I didn’t know you liked basketball.’
‘I don’t.’
There was a brief delay before the next text arrived. Adagio could only assume Twilight was trying to piece together why Adagio would go to a game that she didn’t like.
Good luck, Twilight Sparkle, she thought, I haven’t figured it out, either.
‘Well, I’m not doing anything, I could always quiz you on some of the material we’re going to go over tomorrow.’
Adagio rolled her eyes, a smile finding its way to her lips. ‘Why would you quiz me on stuff we haven’t covered yet?’
The loud blaring of a buzzer made Adagio jump in her seat and look wildly around. The digital scoreboard had changed, now showing the home team at two points, while the guests remained at zero. A couple in the front row stood up, clapping and cheering as a girl Adagio didn’t recognize waved at them from near the Appleloosan basket. A respectful – if unenthusiastic – applause followed from the rest of the Crystal Prep side of the court (Adagio didn’t join in), which was largely drowned out by that of the Appleloosan side.
“Why are they cheering for the other team?” asked Sonata.
“That’s nothing,” said Indigo Zap, “just wait until their side scores.”
The momentary excitement over, Adagio’s attention returned to her phone, where Twilight’s reply was waiting for her.
‘I want to make sure you’re still reading ahead. Exam week starts next Monday!’
Adagio’s heart sunk. ‘Don’t remind me.’
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ There was another lull in the conversation, and Adagio gave another half hearted attempt to watch the game. This lasted about as long as her first attempt, and before long Adagio found herself composing another message to Twilight.
‘So,’ she wrote, ‘how does Twilight Sparkle spend her Sunday afternoons?’
‘Well, I was studying earlier, and now I’m at the dog park with Spike. He says hi.’
‘How’s that going?’
‘It’s good. Warm, a bit too bright. Should I tell Spike you said hi?’
‘Twilight Sparkle, are you complaining that the sun is too bright?’
There was a pause.
‘Maybe.’
Adagio couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What are you laughing about?” asked Sonata.
“Nothing,” said Adagio, stuffing her phone into her pocket, “don’t worry abo–”
The buzzer went off again, and before Adagio realized what was happening, Sonata had grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet.
“What are you–”
“She scored!” cried Sonata, clapping excitedly and waving down at the court. “Come on, ‘Dagi!”
Much as before, there was a largely apathetic response from their side of the bleachers. Clearly, these people had come to see their own family score, and everything else was merely a distraction. Down below, Aria wove her way through the Appleloosan defender and back towards her side of the court, exchanging nods with her teammates as she passed them.
“Go, Aria!”
Sonata’s cheer seemed to have caught Aria’s attention, as Aria looked up into the bleachers and after a brief moment of surprise, locked eyes with Adagio. Suddenly, Adagio was clapping. She wasn’t entirely sure what had compelled her to do it, but she couldn’t deny feeling the slightest bit of what she could only describe as pride.
A ghost of a smile flickered across Aria’s face. She looked up at them for another brief moment (though Adagio was fairly certain she was looking less at Sonata and more at her), before she was forced to return to the game. Adagio and Sonata sat down, and out of the corner of her eye, Adagio noticed a flash of pink hair as Fleur de Lis stomped out of the gymnasium, slamming the door behind her.
Adagio grinned. Maybe basketball wasn’t so bad, after all.
Aria scored four more times that game (and could have scored more, according to Indigo Zap, if she hadn’t passed the ball so much), and each time Adagio and Sonata cheered for her. Once the final buzzer had blared and the teams had returned to their locker rooms, the two Sirens hung back and waited for Aria to come out so they could congratulate her.
Well, congratulations were Sonata’s plan, anyway. Adagio wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to say to Aria, but she’d stuck around this long, hadn’t she?
They watched as the Appleloosan team trickled out of their locker room to the cacophonous applause of the crowd that awaited them. They’d lost, of course, but to look at them one would have a hard time believing it. They smiled and laughed, slapped players on the back and complemented them on how well they’d played, even though it had all been for naught.
Adagio found the whole thing rather perplexing. Appleloosa had lost, so why were they so happy? While some of the Crystal Prep crowd – if it could even be called that when compared to that of Appleloosa – had stuck around, many of them had simply left once the game had ended. It wasn’t much a victory celebration, though, when the team was expected to win, was there really all that much to celebrate about?
“Look, there she is!”
Adagio had spotted it too: a glimpse of purple fighting its way through the sea of bodies. Aria pushed past the last of the Appleloosans and looked searchingly around the gymnasium until her eyes fell upon her fellow Sirens. She began her approach.
With each step, Adagio could feel tension building within her. This was stupid. She shouldn’t have allowed Sonata to talk her into this pointless exercise in healing Aria’s bruised ego. She’d shown Aria her neck, and now would be the perfect time for the other Siren to strike. Adagio braced herself for whatever barb was about to come her way.
“So,” said Aria, stopping a few feet away from Adagio and Sonata. “You’re here.”
Adagio nodded, saying nothing, and for what may have been the first time in Sonata’s life, she did the same. Aria continued.
“I thought you didn’t care about basketball.”
“I don’t,” said Adagio.
She could feel Aria’s eyes boring into her, and for a long time the three girls stood in silence. Finally, Aria spoke.
“Want to get out of here?” she asked.
“Please,” said Adagio. “If I hear one more ‘yee-haw!’ I’m going to scream.”
“I know, right?” added Sonata. “And can you believe their accent?”
The three girls shared a laugh, and together they made their way out of the gymnasium and back towards the dormitories. Adagio took the lead, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, both Aria and Sonata followed closely behind her.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in Aria and Sonata’s room, not talking about or doing anything in particular, just – as the Rainbooms would put it – hanging out. It felt to Adagio like a return to a normalcy that never was, and though the time she spent with the other Sirens furthered no plan and brought her no closer to any of her many goals, it nonetheless relaxed her in a way that she thought only her long study sessions with Twilight ever could.
When evening arrived and the time came for Adagio to return to her room, she surprised herself with the realization that she didn’t actually want to leave. Tomorrow she might awake hardened once more to Aria’s snark and Sonata’s stupidity, but, at least for tonight, she allowed herself to enjoy a few hours with her oldest companions.
That night, after Adagio had taken her leave and was tucking herself into bed, her phone vibrated once again. It was not a message from Twilight Sparkle that awaited her, this time, but one from Sonata.
‘told u,’ it said, and Adagio rolled her eyes.
‘Goodnight, Sonata,’ she replied, tucking the phone beneath her pillow and drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Adagio withdrew her arm from Nurse Tough Love’s firm grasp. The bandages on her hand were gone, but the skin they’d covered was pale and fraught with meandering lines. Her knuckles, though no longer painful or bleeding, were rough to the touch and retained the slightest hint of bruising.
Tough Love must have noticed her discontent, as he added in his laconic way “Marks go away, in time.”
“Thanks,” said Adagio, still looking at her hand. She’d only had the bandages on for a week – less if she counted the time she spent having them changed – and yet it felt as if a little piece of herself had been peeled away. The flesh on her hand tingled, and she felt an acute awareness of the cool air of the nurse’s office. It was a feeling of vulnerability and exposure that reminded her of when she’d been robbed of her magic, and caused her to wonder just how many pieces of herself this world would chip away.
“You leave now,” grunted Tough Love, waving her away as he hunched over a small desk and scribbled on some paperwork with a pen too small for his meaty hands.
Adagio didn’t have to be told twice. She opened the door to the nurse’s office – the touch of the cold metal on her bare flesh sending goosebumps up her arm – and stepped out into the hallway, where her fellow Sirens waited for her.
“Your hand looks weird,” said Sonata.
Adagio frowned and folded her arms, obscuring the appendage. The renewed fondness Adagio had felt for them had faded somewhat while Adagio slept (as fantasies are like to do, she thought), but, nonetheless, after she and Sugarcoat performed their morning routine, she had felt compelled to wait for them in the hallway. She had spent her morning and lunch break in their company, and even now after the school day had come to an end, they had once again drifted together.
This unity came with its own set of problems beyond the tedium of putting up with the other Sirens, the most pressing of which was her meeting with Twilight Sparkle. Adagio wasn’t naive enough to believe that their nascent truce would survive the revelation that she’d been consorting with the enemy behind their backs, and so Adagio found herself in the precarious position of having to ditch the other Sirens without arising their suspicions. It wasn’t something she was looking forward to, but with the only other option being skipping her session with Twilight, she knew that she had to do it.
“Doesn’t her hand look weird, Aria?”
Aria shrugged and glanced up at the digital clock that hung on the wall. A look of alarm spread across her face.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
“What?” said Sonata. “Where?”
“Practice.”
“Practice? Practice what?”
Aria rubbed her eyes in irritation. “Basketball practice.”
“Basketball? But you played basketball yesterday!”
Aria shrugged again. “Coach wants us to get in as much practice as we can before midterms.”
Sonata let out a tortured groan, and both girls turned to Adagio. It was like the old times, when the two girls would bicker and have Adagio to solve their problems for them, and it gave Adagio a brief rush of exhilaration knowing she was once again at the top where she belonged. It was tempting to forbid Aria from attending the practice – just to see if Aria would actually abide her decision – but, realistically, such pettiness would probably just start another fight. Besides, Aria had given her the perfect opportunity to slip away.
“Go on,” she said, waving a hand dismissively at Aria, who nodded at her and began to jog towards the gymnasium.
Unhappy with this decision, Sonata shot Adagio a pleading look.
“I thought we were going to spend the day together again,” she said, glumly.
Adagio rolled her eyes. What had given her that idea? It didn’t matter. Adagio had made no such promise, and even if she did, she had an appointment to keep.
Sonata would thank her when they had their magic back.
“I’ve got to go, too,” said Adagio.
“Oh, come on! Why?”
“I have math homework I need to finish.” It wasn’t technically a lie – she did have math homework, and she and Twilight would almost certainly work on it. It just wasn’t the entire truth, either.
To her surprise, Sonata laughed. “Homework? ‘Dagi, Principal Cinch needs us – we don’t have to do homework!”
Adagio suppressed a growl. Sonata wasn’t even doing her homework, and yet Adagio was the one Cinch had come after for her grades? Her hands balled into fists beneath her crossed arms. Hypocrisy could be added to the ever-growing list of reasons Adagio despised Abacus Cinch, and, unlike Twilight Sparkle, Adagio had no qualms about turning her magic on the principal the second she got it back. The thought of her revenge was a welcome one, but it would have to wait. Adagio still had to deal with Sonata.
“Well, I’m doing it anyway,” Adagio said, curtly. It occurred to her that she didn’t have to explain herself to Sonata of all people.
“Can I come?”
“No,” said Adagio. “I work better on my own.” Okay, so that was a lie.
Sonata wilted, casting her eyes down to the hallway floor and letting her arms hang limp at her sides. It was pathetic, and it almost made Adagio feel bad for her. Almost.
“Just… I don’t know. Go watch Aria practice, or something. I’ll be back later.”
Sonata didn’t respond. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that Adagio had no more time to waste on this conversation, so without another word she turned on her heel and left Sonata alone in the hallway to sulk. She’d get over it – in an hour or so she probably wouldn’t even remember that she was upset – and it wasn’t as if Adagio needed to justify her actions – she was doing what was best for all of them!
She’ll thank me when we have our magic back, Adagio thought again, though this time she felt a little less confident.
She arrived at the bus stop just as her bus rounded the corner. It took a couple moments of frantic pocket searching to find her bus pass, but before long Adagio once again found herself packed into the crowded bus and heading towards the Canterlot Public Library.
The bus ride felt different somehow, and it wasn’t until she was almost at her stop that Adagio figured out what it was. The tension the bus had brought her, the constant vigilance she’d been forced to partake in to protect her secret was no longer necessary. It didn’t matter if anyone from Crystal Prep saw her entering the library, and, now that the Rainbooms were aware of her arrangement with Twilight Sparkle, it didn’t matter if anyone from Canterlot High saw her in her uniform, either. It felt almost liberating, so much so that Adagio was so caught up in her newfound relaxation that she nearly missed her stop. Fortunately, another passenger happened to be getting off at the same place, and Adagio was able to slip off the bus without anyone else knowing of her almost-blunder.
The sky above the Canterlot Public Library was a solid sheet of white cloud, and the air was brisk, though not altogether uncomfortable. Adagio took her time ascending the stairs, passing the statues and pillars as she crossed the threshold into the library proper. The old Librarian – Adagio could have sworn Twilight had mentioned his name, but it didn’t come to mind – waved at her as she passed his counter and Adagio returned the gesture with a polite nod. From somewhere among the innumerable rows of books Adagio heard the sounds of quiet bickering, before a sharp hushing noise brought the argument to an abrupt end. They were, perhaps, the first voices Adagio had heard in the library that did not belong to herself, Twilight, or the librarian (or, she reminded herself bitterly, to Timber), which piqued her curiosity, though not enough to waylay her from her course.
Adagio alighted the stairs and soon thereafter arrived at the study room. She straightened her skirt and brushed her outfit off with her hands, clearing it of whatever hair or debris she might have picked up on the bus, before stepping inside.
Twilight Sparkle was seated at the far side of the room’s small table, flanked on both sides by tall stacks of books, leafing through the pages of yet another book laid out before her. She looked as Adagio entered, adjusting her glasses which had undoubtedly slipped down to the tip of her nose while she read. She smiled.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” said Adagio, returning the smile and letting the door close behind her.
“You got your bandages off!”
Adagio looked down at her hand. It wasn’t as clammy as it had been earlier, but it was still a little pallid and she still see the faintest hints of the lines left by the bandages.
“Yeah,” she said, tucking it behind her back.
She approached the table, let her backpack drop from her shoulders, and took a seat. She produced her own stack of books and notes, placing on the table much as Twilight had, all the while doing her best to keep her unsightly hand out of Twilight’s line of sight. If the girl noticed, she was too polite to say anything.
“So,” said Adagio, “where should we begin?”
Twilight hesitated, her brow furrowing as she cast her gaze away from Adagio.
“There’s–” her voice squeaked and she cleared her throat, “–there’s something I wanted to talk about you – to you about… about me.”
Adagio blinked. “Come again?”
Twilight drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Before we get started, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Adagio sighed. She’d known this was coming ever since Twilight’s knowledge of her little secret was forced out into the open by the Rainbooms. Twilight was too inquisitive not to have questions about Adagio was and what she had been, but at least she’d waited until they were alone and face to face. But how much did she really want to tell Twilight? Sure, Twilight did stick up for her when they were confronted, but would she continue to support her if she knew about all the terror and strife Adagio and her fellow Sirens had wrought? Would she finally pierce Adagio’s human mask and see the monster that lurked just beneath the surface?
Adagio bit the inside of her cheek. There was no use letting her imagination run wild. Twilight trusted her – why, she wasn’t sure, but her heart told her it was true – and she trusted Twilight. More than that, she needed her, so if answering some of Twilight Sparkle’s questions was the price she had to pay to keep her, then answer she would. She’d even keep the changing of the small details to a minimum.
“Okay,” said Adagio, “go ahead.”
“Alright,” said Twilight, clearing her throat again. “Here I go. So, you see, umm, there’s this… event – well, it’s more of a competition – held by CHS and Crystal Prep called the Friendship Games.”
Well, that certainly wasn’t what she’d expected. Twilight opened her mouth to continue, and Adagio held up a hand to stop her.
“I know about the Friendship Games.”
“You do?”
Adagio nodded.
“About the magic?”
She nodded again.
Twilight bit her lip. “And about...”
“Midnight Sparkle?” asked Adagio. This time it was Twilight’s turn to nod. “Yeah, about her, too.”
Twilight stared down at the book in front of her, her eyes obscured by her bangs. It was quiet, and Adagio was struggling to find the words to break the silence when Twilight laughed.
Adagio cocked an eyebrow, wondering if what she’d heard was not, in fact, a muffled cry, when she heard it again, this time accompanied by an adorable snort.
“Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight looked up, her face now plastered with a silly grin. Adagio was confused.
“Am I missing something?”
Twilight shook her head. “It’s kind of silly isn’t it? You’re a Siren from Equestria, and I turned into a power-hungry demon and tried to destroy the world, and we’ve just been coming here and pretending to be two ordinary girls!”
Ordinary is overrated, thought Adagio.
“Anyway, I just thought you should know the whole story. I should have known you’d have asked around about me, too.” She looked at Adagio sheepishly. “Sorry about that, by the way.”
“It’s fine,” said Adagio. She couldn’t exactly chastise Twilight for talking about her behind her back (no matter how innocent it was) after she’d just admitted to doing the exact same thing. “To be honest, I thought that you had questions about me being a, you know...”
Monster, she finished, inaudibly.
Twilight squirmed in her seat, and Adagio immediately realized what she’d done.
“Well, I might have a couple of questions,” said Twilight, “but if you don’t want to...”
Adagio sighed again. “I don’t, but we might as well get this out of the way now.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, fixing her eyes on Twilight. “You have a Siren from Equestria at your disposal. What do you want to know?”
There was a look that Twilight Sparkle sometimes wore when they studied. It usually appeared while she hunted through a book for a wayward definition, or when she read something for the first time. Adagio could only describe it as a gleeful hunger, and it manifested itself whenever Twilight realized she was going to learn something. It was this passion for learning that seemed to drive Twilight to be both a prolific student and an incredible teacher, and to feel that focus – that desire – fixed so firmly upon her…
Adagio felt a bead of sweat drip down her neck, and suddenly her mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton balls.
Twilight didn’t even need to think about her question. Whether she admitted it or not, it was clear she already knew what she wanted to ask.
“What is a Siren?”
The absurdity of the question gave Adagio pause. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. In Equestria, Sunset Shimmer is a Unicorn, and the other Twilight is an Alicorn – which is a Unicorn with wings, apparently. I can sort of picture what those would look like, but I don’t exactly have a frame of reference for a Siren. Sunset described them as ‘a half-horse-half-fish with pointy teeth.’”
Adagio was appalled. “‘Half-fish?’” She took a moment to seethe, working her jaw and opening and closing her fist, doing her best to work through the sudden burst of indignation. “We are not ‘half-fish.’”
“Okay,” said Twilight, “so can you give me a proper description?”
“Alright, well, Sirens have forehooves and an equine head – yes, with sharp teeth, I suppose – but with scales and fins. We have long tails – not like a fish, different! – and have a crystal embedded right–” Adagio’s fingers touched her bare neck. She hadn’t worn the pendant Sugarcoat had given to her today, and for the first time she wondered what would happen if she returned to Equestria without it. Would there be a gaping hole in her neck, a permanent mark of her failure carved into her flesh?
She grit her teeth. This was just another reason that she needed to get her magic back.
“Adagio?”
Adagio looked up. Twilight’s thirst for knowledge had been partially replaced with concern.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” said Adagio, “yes, I’m fine. I just lost my train of thought. Did you have any other questions?”
Twilight nodded. “And you’re sure–”
“Yes, I’m sure,” said Adagio, doing her best to keep the irritation out of her voice.
“Okay,” said Twilight, not entirely clear of her trepidation. “You did say fins though, so Sirens are aquatic?”
“Yes and no,” explained Adagio. “I may have been born in the ocean, but I could fly through the air just as well as I could move through the water.”
“Wait, hold on, Sirens can fly?”
“Of course we can fly!”
“Interesting,” said Twilight, rubbing her chin, “not at all like the stories of Sirens from this world.”
Now it was Adagio’s turn to be surprised. “This world had Sirens, too?”
“Not exactly. There are stories of creatures called Sirens from thousands of years ago, but they were usually depicted as birds with human heads.”
Adagio scoffed. Twilight ignored her and continued.
“Other times they were described as beautiful women, and they always had enchanting singing voices… Okay, so maybe the two aren’t entirely different.”
Adagio felt heat rising in her cheeks. Did Twilight Sparkle just call her beautiful?
Evidently, Twilight realized what she’d implied, as color suddenly exploded across her face. “I–” she stammered “I meant their voices. I didn’t mean–”
The predatory part of Adagio’s mind kicked in, the part that liked to play with her food, and she leaned in closer. “Are you saying I’m not beautiful?” she teased, batting her eyelashes.
If Twilight blushed any harder, Adagio fully expected steam to shoot out of her ears. “I– I–” She grabbed the book in front of her and stood it up vertically, obscuring her face. “I’m never opening my mouth again.”
Adagio couldn’t contain the hungry grin that had spread across her face. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and rolled her eyes. Twilight was really committing to this, wasn’t she? She fished it out, only to discover that the message was not from Twilight, but from Sonata.
‘hey,’ it said.
‘Hey,’ replied Adagio. ‘I’m studying, I’ll talk to you later.’
She was about to return the phone to her pocket when it buzzed again.
‘still?’
‘im bord’
‘wen will u b done?’
The texts kept coming, and Adagio could feel her eye twitching with irritation. Why had she given Sonata her number? Having time away from her fellow Sirens had certainly helped their relationship when they got back together, but if Sonata could contact her anytime and from anywhere, Adagio was certain she would be driven to strangle her.
“Is there a way to make my phone not buzz when someone texts me?” asked Adagio. “Just one person.”
Twilight’s head popped up from behind the book. “Sorry?”
“Nevermind, I think I found it.” Sure enough, while the relentless flow of texts from Sonata (most of which were one or two words) continued, Adagio’s phone was no longer trying to fight its way out of her hand. She laid it on the table.
“You’re getting better with that,” commented Twilight.
“I had a good teacher,” replied Adagio, with a smile. “Speaking of which...”
“Right,” said Twilight. She took down her makeshift barrier (the last hints of pink draining from her cheeks) and grabbed another book from the top of her pile. “I was thinking we could start with–”
Twilight was cut off by another blast of vibration. At first, Adagio assumed Sonata had grown tired of having her texts go unanswered and was trying to call her, but quickly deduced that it wasn’t her who was getting the call.
Picking her own phone up from off the table, Twilight looked at the screen in dismay. “What is he doing?” she murmured. “I told him not to call me during...”
“Who?” asked Adagio.
Twilight looked up in confusion. Apparently she’d been thinking out loud.
“Timber,” she said, and Adagio felt an immediate surge of anger. “He knows we’re studying now.”
“Just ignore him,” muttered Adagio. The phone continued to vibrate.
“If I ignore him he might get worried, or he might call again. I should just pick up and tell him I can’t talk.”
Twilight stood up from her seat and headed for the door. Adagio wasn’t entirely certain why she couldn’t take the call in the room, but at the same time she knew that she had absolutely no desire to listen to Twilight talk to Timber. She did derive some solace from Twilight’s reaction to Timber’s call (and Twilight’s priorities), and with a little luck, maybe Timber would say something stupid and give Twilight even more reason to be angry with him.
Or maybe not. Adagio didn’t want to see Twilight upset… that would get in the way of their studying.
The sound of the doorknob turning behind her was immediately followed by a short scuffle, a yelp, and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Adagio whirled around, spotting a shocked looking Twilight standing over the prone figures of Rainbow Dash and Sunset Shimmer.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was Twilight’s phone. Then, there was silence.
The newcomers untangled their limbs and got to their feet, looking sheepishly between Adagio and Twilight.
“Girls, what are you doing here?” Twilight folded her arms, and from the tone of her voice, it seemed she already knew the answer.
“I told you this was a dumb idea,” said Rainbow Dash in a half-whisper.
“What?” hissed Sunset. “You practically dragged me here!”
“Only because you told me if I came alone you’d call Twilight!”
“Because I was afraid you’d do something reckless!”
“Like getting caught spying on us?” asked Adagio, dryly.
“We weren’t spying,” insisted Sunset, “we were...” She trailed off, trying desperately to think of a way to make their situation look less incriminating.
“We were spying,” said Rainbow. Sunset’s face found her palm with an audible slap. “But we had a good reason: she’s up to something.”
Rainbow pointed an accusatory finger at Adagio, who didn’t react. Why would she? Rainbow Dash was digging her own grave, and Adagio needed only to wait and see if she’d lie in it.
Twilight looked from her friends to her phone and let out a frustrated sigh. “I need to make a phone call. You two, I’ll deal with you when I get back.” She looked back at Adagio. “I’m really sorry about all this.”
Adagio shrugged. “It’s fine.”
Rainbow and Sunset got out of the way as Twilight made for the door. She fixed them with one last look – not of anger, but of something far worse: disappointment – before letting it click close behind her.
“So,” said Rainbow, taking a step towards Adagio, “what are you really up to?”
“Dash,” said Sunset in a warning tone.
“What?” asked Rainbow. “I’m just talking to her!”
Sunset didn’t respond, but gave her a pointed look.
“The only thing I’m up to is trying not to fail my midterms,” said Adagio. She wisely chose to leave out the part about getting her magic back and enacting her revenge on everyone who had wronged her.
“As if!” declared Rainbow. “If you’re so innocent, why have Twilight sneak off to a secret meeting?”
“A secret meeting at a public library?”
“Behind closed doors!”
“In a study room. Where we’re studying.”
“It didn’t sound like studying,” said Rainbow. She linked her fingers together and performed an over the top swoon, before putting on her best impression of a sultry voice. “Oh, Twilight, are you saying I’m not beautiful?”
Adagio shot from her chair, her hands balling into fists. Rainbow squared off across from her, and for a moment all anyone in the room could think of was which girl would throw the first blow. Sunset stepped between them, holding up her hands with a palm facing each of them in an attempt to sooth them, when they all heard the turning of the door handle.
“Sorry about that,” said Twilight. She looked between the three girls. “Is everything alright in here?”
Sunset had taken a step back and let her arms drop, leaving them standing in a triangular formation. Adagio stood akimbo, doing her best to look like she hadn’t been mere seconds away from reopening the wounds on her knuckles with help from Rainbow’s face; and Rainbow simply pretended to examine her nails (not that there was much to examine) while still giving Adagio a dangerous side-eye.
“Everything’s fine!” said Sunset, forcing a smile.
“Yup,” said Rainbow.
“Peachy,” said Adagio, through gritted teeth.
Twilight didn’t look convinced. Actually, upon closer inspection, she looked… upset. Her eyes were puffy and she had the drained air of someone who had just finished with an argument – an air that Adagio knew all too well, and didn’t like seeing on Twilight. While Adagio struggled to find a way to bring this up to Twilight, Sunset beat her to the punch.
“Twilight, are you okay?”
Rainbow looked at Twilight in concern, before turning back to face Adagio.
“What did you do?”
“Are you serious? I’ve been in here with you this whole time!”
“Yeah, well, maybe you had one of your Siren friends–”
“It wasn’t her!” said Twilight, cutting Rainbow off. “It was Timber. He’s acting… I don’t know. Can we talk about this later?” she gave Sunset a pleading look.
“Of course, Twilight,” said Sunset. “Come on, Dash, we’re leaving.”
“What? But we haven’t even–”
“Now. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” She grabbed Rainbow by the wrist and began to drag her toward the door. Rainbow followed reluctantly, holding up two fingers to her eyes, then pointing them at Adagio as if to say ‘I’m watching you’ before the door closed behind them.
Twilight sighed. “I’m sorry about that. I know they mean well, but...”
“It’s okay,” said Adagio. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, before forcing herself to make eye contact with Twilight. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Twilight smiled at her. It was a sad smile, but a genuine one.
“No,” she said, “but thanks. Not just for the offer, but for putting up with my friends snooping around and the little game of Siren-twenty-questions earlier. And just for putting up with me in general, I suppose.”
“Twilight Sparkle, I don’t simply ‘put up’ with you. Believe it or not, I do genuinely enjoy coming here.” It was something she’d admitted before – both to herself and to Twilight – but every time she felt as if she was betraying some part of herself. Deriving personal enjoyment from spending time with Twilight Sparkle beyond that which came from the fulfillment of her plans was troublesome. She’d already caught herself questioning what would happen to her newfound friendship with Twilight when she regained her magic, and knew in her heart that allowing this attachment to grow any further would only lead to misery. But, perhaps more troubling than any of this, was the fact that Adagio was finding it increasingly difficult to care. Or, more accurately, to not care.
“I enjoy it, too,” said Twilight. She returned to her seat, prompting Adagio to do the same. Twilight began flipping through the book before her, but paused before she reached the current chapter. “There was one more thing I wanted to ask you.”
“You’re not going to call me a fish again, are you?”
“No, and I didn’t call you a fish,” said Twilight. “I was just thinking, since we both like doing this, maybe when midterms are over we can keep getting together. Call it a study group, or something. I mean, it’s not really a study group since it’s just the two of us, and we won’t have to do it every day, but if–”
“Yes,” said Adagio.
“Yes?”
“Yes, we should keep doing this after midterms,” said Adagio. It was an easy decision. Not only would that prolong her ability to use Twilight’s expertise in rebuilding her device, it would give Adagio another excuse to get away from Crystal Prep and spend time with her. A win-win, really.
This time, when Twilight smiled, there was no hint of sadness. “Great!” she exclaimed. “It’s a date!”
“A date?” asked Adagio, coyly.
“It’s an expression. Rarity uses it, I was just trying it out. I don’t think it’s for me.”
“I don’t know. First you’re calling me beautiful, now you’re arranging dates… I’m starting to think I was brought here under false pretenses.”
If Twilight blushed any more that night, Adagio was fairly certain her head would explode. “I–I think we were starting chapter eight, right?”
“Chapter nine,” corrected Adagio.
“Nine, right. Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”
Adagio’s good mood lasted through her session with Twilight, her bus ride back to Crystal Prep, and might have continued until the next day if she hadn’t encountered one of her least favorite people in the world (or any world, for that matter) at the door to the girls’ dormitory.
Fleur de Lis.
But what was she doing? Adagio slowed her pace, hoping that Fleur would just go inside and save them both the displeasure of having to interact with one another, but with each step bringing them closer together, a confrontation seemed inevitable.
As she approached, Adagio started to get a better look at what exactly Fleur was doing at the door, and the answer seemed to be fighting with it. With all the strength she could muster with her one good hand she rattled the door handle, shaking the door in its frame but failing to open it. It was immediately clear to Adagio that the door was either stuck or locked, and in the case of the latter, if Fleur didn’t change tactics she – and, by extension, Adagio – would be here for a while.
Eventually, Adagio got to the point where she couldn’t delay any longer, and found herself standing awkwardly behind Fleur. She could hear Fleur’s frustrated grunts and the dull thud of her fist against the door’s thick glass window on the occasion that Fleur stopped jostling the door and briefly attempted a different tactic. Another time, Adagio might have found such a pathetic display by someone she despised to be at least somewhat entertaining, but whatever amusement she might have derived from Fleur’s predicament was eclipsed by the fact that, not only did she also have to deal with the door, she was also forced into dealing with Fleur de Lis.
Having watched as much as she could stand, Adagio cleared her throat.
Fleur jumped, then whirled around to face Adagio. Her surprise was quickly replaced by a look of sheer loathing, and without saying a word she resumed her attack on the door with renewed vigor.
“It’s not opening,” said Adagio.
Fleur continued to pretend she didn’t exist.
“Fine,” said Adagio, rolling her eyes and taking a step forward, “at least let me–”
“Stay away from me!”
The look in Fleur’s eyes reminded Adagio of a cornered animal. They were facing one another again, Fleur having adopted a guarded stance almost as if she was expecting a fight. Adagio took another step forward and Fleur skirted the wall away from the door, ensuring the distance between them never shrank.
Adagio blinked. Fleur was afraid of her.
“Relax,” said Adagio. As desperately as her brain wanted to analyze this new development, it could wait until she was back inside. “I just want to see if I can get it open.”
Fleur scoffed. “Please, if I couldn’t get it open, what makes you think you can?”
Adagio’s eyes narrowed. If Fleur wanted a fight, she’d get one. “Oh, I don’t know, I just thought I’d try using two hands.”
Fleur snarled. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Adagio took hold of the handle and pulled. The door didn’t budge.
“It’s locked,” she said.
“No, really?” asked Fleur, making no attempt to hide her sarcasm.
This time it was Adagio’s turn to ignore Fleur. She reached into her pocket and withdrew her cellphone, navigating to her contacts with ease. Her finger hovered over Sonata’s icon, but after a moment of consideration, she decided to call Sugarcoat instead.
The phone rang five times before the call was connected. “Adagio, it’s quarter after twelve. Curfew was over an hour ago.”
Adagio winced. Her session with Twilight had gone late, but luckily she’d managed to catch the last bus back to Crystal Prep. She’d assumed she could just slip in like last time, but apparently that was not the case.
“I know what time it is,” hissed Adagio. “The door to the dorms is locked. Could you come down and let us in?”
“Us?” asked Sugarcoat.
“You’ll see.”
There was a brief pause. “Fine, give me a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Sugarcoat,” said Adagio, and the call terminated.
“What a surprise, the two losers are sticking together.”
Adagio turned her attention back to Fleur. “What’s your problem?”
“What’s my problem?” Fleur’s fury finally overcame her fear and she took a step toward Adagio, her hand balled into a tight fist. “Are you forgetting the time you attacked me?”
‘Attack’ was a strong word for what had happened, but if that was the game they were playing, Adagio was more than willing to oblige. “You attacked Sugarcoat!”
“Seriously? You break my wrist because I bumped into your loser friend? Do you even know what she did?”
“It doesn’t matter what she did!” exclaimed Adagio. “You can’t just–”
Adagio cut herself off.
“Can’t just what?” asked Fleur. She took another step forward and waved her cast in Adagio’s face. “Can’t just hurt people who you think deserved it? That’s rich coming from you.”
It had been easy to justify what she did to Fleur at the time. She hadn’t meant to hurt her, just to take her down a peg. Fleur was the one who had started the violence, and all Adagio did was give her a taste of her own medicine!
But those were just excuses.
“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” recited Adagio. Thanks, Twilight Sparkle.
“What?”
“I shouldn’t have tripped you–”
“Obviously,” interrupted Fleur. Adagio grit her teeth and continued.
“–but you shouldn’t have hurt Sugarcoat, either. It doesn’t matter how we justify it, we were both wrong.”
Adagio hated admitting she was wrong. Admitting she was wrong was almost as bad, if not worse than being wrong in the first place. But at least I get to take Fleur down with me, she thought. A small consolation.
Fleur’s brow furrowed and she glared at Adagio searchingly. Adagio could almost hear the gears turning in her head, and after a few more long seconds of silence, Fleur harrumphed and turned away.
“You’re a hypocrite, you know that?” Her tone was venomous.
“Yeah,” said Adagio. They both were.
The two girls lapsed once again into a tense silence, which was eventually broken by the opening of the door. Sugarcoat, dressed in a housecoat (underneath which she wore a now familiar pair of pajamas) and slippers, looked from Adagio to Fleur, then back again.
“I was in bed,” she said flatly.
“I can see that,” said Adagio. “Thanks for coming down.”
Sugarcoat shrugged.
Adagio placed a hand on the door and stepped inside. She glanced back over her shoulder to where Fleur now stood, leaning against the exterior wall and refusing to meet her gaze.
“You coming?” asked Adagio. Fleur ignored her.
“The door opens from the inside, but it will lock again when it closes,” said Sugarcoat. She’d spoken to Adagio, but the implication was clear. Fleur could either suck up her pride and follow them in, or she could go back to being locked out in the cold and the dark.
A minute passed, and Adagio felt her arm starting to cramp up from holding the door. Why was she even bothering? Adagio might have been wrong to trip Fleur, but that didn’t make her any less insufferable. If Fleur was going to act like a child, that was her business, and this time she couldn’t blame Adagio for the consequences of her own actions.
Adagio was a split second from letting the door close and abandoning Fleur to her fate when the other girl made her move. Fleur brushed past Adagio, her eyes glued to the floor, but stopped when she reached Sugarcoat.
“Thanks,” she muttered. It was barely audible, and before either Sugarcoat or Adagio had recovered enough to respond, Fleur had disappeared down a corridor.
“That was weird,” said Sugarcoat.
Adagio sighed. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”
It was Friday, and from Adagio’s perspective, the week had gone by at a blistering pace. Her professors had mostly given up on teaching any new material, instead focusing on review for the upcoming exams. The students – Aria and Sonata excluded – were buckling down more than ever, and a sense of tension could be felt hanging over the school like a thick fog. If Adagio failed these exams, she would be kicked out of Crystal Prep Academy, and every single one of her plans would come crashing down around her. It was overwhelming, and without the help of Twilight Sparkle, Adagio didn’t think she would have been able to make it through.
All of which made it even more perplexing that today, just three days before midterms were scheduled to begin, Twilight Sparkle had just invited her to a party.
“A party?” asked Adagio, looking at Twilight in disbelief.
Adagio had never met anyone quite like Twilight Sparkle in her life (although one could certainly argue that the other Twilight Sparkle fell into this category), but never in a thousand years would she have considered her a ‘party girl’. Twilight was, well, a dork. A bookworm. The type of person who would avoid a party when they had nothing else to do, let alone when something extremely important loomed on the horizon. It just didn’t make any sense, and from the look on Twilight’s face, Adagio’s concerns weren’t entirely unfounded.
The smile Twilight wore was just a little too forced and her eyes held a nervousness that Adagio hadn’t seen in them since their encounter with the Rainbooms at the mall. Adagio placed her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow.
“I don’t buy it.”
“W-what do you mean?” stammered Twilight.
“Twilight Sparkle, the model student, does not simply decide to just ‘go to a party’ with midterms around the corner. In fact, I don’t think you have an impulsive bone in your body!”
“I can be impulsive!” argued Twilight. “Just last week I went to the bookstore to buy one book, and instead I bought three!”
Adagio simply stared at Twilight, who fidgeted uncomfortably beneath her gaze. It didn’t take long before she finally broke.
“Fine,” said Twilight, looking at her shoes, the walls, the ceiling – anywhere at all to avoid looking at Adagio. “Apparently it’s some sort of Canterlot High tradition to have a party before exams. Honestly, I think everyone might be better off taking the time to study – and ‘tradition’ is a term Pinkie Pie takes pretty loosely – but...” Twilight trailed off, having apparently lost her train of thought. “...I’m not doing a very good job selling this, am I?”
Adagio could barely believe her ears. “A Canterlot High party?”
Twilight winced. “Well, it’s not exactly a Canterlot High party. I mean, most of the people there will be from Canterlot High, but that doesn’t necessarily mean–”
“No.”
“But–”
“No,” insisted Adagio.
“Will you just hear me out?” asked Twilight.
Another ‘no’ danced on the tip of Adagio’s tongue, but she managed to suppress it. Something about the way Twilight had asked to be heard – not demanded or fought – inclined Adagio to at least listen to what she had to say. Besides, there was no way Twilight would convince her that this was not the worst idea she had ever heard, so what could be the harm? She motioned for Twilight to continue.
“Okay,” said Twilight, rewarding Adagio with a smile. “So, yes, exams are coming up in a few days, but taking a night off can impact stress levels, which in turn affects academic performance. Studies show that–”
“Studies?” interrupted Adagio. “Did you study for a conversation about getting me to take a break from studying?”
Twilight puffed out her cheeks in an adorable expression of frustration. “The point is, you’re not going to fail your exams because you took a night off. We’ve been working to catch you up for two weeks, and the progress you’ve made is, frankly, incredible. I’m really, really proud of you.”
Adagio felt the blush creep into her cheeks. “I’ve had a great tutor,” she said.
“Thanks,” said Twilight, her smile returning, “but don’t undervalue the effort you’ve put in. You’ve more than earned a break before you put your nose to the grindstone on Monday.”
While it was certainly heartening to hear Twilight sing her praises, she was missing the crux of the issue.
“Twilight Sparkle, it isn’t the exams that I’m worried about” – not entirely, anyway – “it’s the party. I don’t exactly want to spend my Friday night with a bunch of people who hate me, and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”
“We’ve talked about this. My friends don’t hate you, and you might be surprised how willing the students of Canterlot High are to forgive the antics of magical megalomaniacs.”
Adagio stared at Twilight with an expression so blank that even Sugarcoat would look at her in envy. “Did you just call me a ‘magical megalomaniac’?”
The color drained from Twilight’s face. “I didn’t mean it like that! I just liked the alliteration. Sorry.”
Adagio rolled her eyes. “It’s fine.”
“Anyway, if the CHS students can forgive me, Sunset, and Gloriosa–”
“Who?” interjected Adagio.
Twilight thought for a moment. “...It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it another time. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you need to worry too much about anyone holding a grudge.”
Memories of Rainbow Dash’s threats bubbled forth in Adagio’s mind, but she kept her mouth shut.
“To be honest, I don’t really want to go to the party, either. I love my friends, but a house filled with loud teenagers isn’t exactly my idea of a good time. I just thought that, if you were there, we could keep each other company.” Twilight looked at the floor and shuffled her feet. “Besides, I want to spend more time with you outside this room, and a party seemed like a good excuse.”
Adagio bit her lip. It was one thing to be adored by those under the influence of her magic, but another thing entirely to be wanted by someone under their own free will. It was strange to think that, when faced with the prospect of being surrounded by her friends and classmates, Twilight would be happier to have Adagio there with her. Even stranger was the fact that some small part of Adagio wanted to go.
“How about this: if you come with me tonight, we’ll get together Sunday afternoon and study as much as you want, we can even order food and make a day of it! Not only will it be fun, but, more importantly, it’ll be educational!”
“Twilight Sparkle, are you trying to bribe me?”
Twilight tapped the tips of her index fingers together. “Is it working?”
Adagio sighed. She knew she’d have to see the Rainbooms again at some point, although she’d hoped to put it off long as possible. She told herself that the sacrifice of a few more hours of her life, painful as it may be, would be worth it to be a few steps closer to gaining their trust (and therefore keeping them from meddling in her plans), but that wasn’t the entire truth. If she was being honest with herself, she would have realized that she just didn’t have it in her to look into Twilight’s eyes and tell her ‘no’.
“...I can’t go to a Canterlot High party in a Crystal Prep uniform.”
It was a flimsy excuse and both of them knew it. A grin worked itself across Twilight’s face.
“Shiney is giving me a ride, we can drive by Crystal Prep so you can get changed. We’ll even park down the road so no one sees us!”
Adagio worked her jaw. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Twilight beamed at her. “Absolutely.”
“If I agree to go to this party, and I haven’t agreed yet, I reserve the right to leave whenever I want.”
Twilight nodded.
“Furthermore, I am under no obligation to have fun.”
Twilight gave her a skeptical look, but nodded again.
“Also, you’ll owe me one.”
A third nod.
Adagio pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “Fine,” she said, “I’ll go to the stupid party.”
Twilight launched herself out of her chair, wrapping her arms around Adagio’s neck in a tight embrace. Adagio was too shocked to move, or to react in any way other than to think about how warm and soft Twilight’s skin felt, and about the smell of lavender in her hair. After a few seconds the hug broke, and for a split second, Adagio was reminded of the sensation of when her bandages had been taken off.
“This is going to be great!” she exclaimed with such enthusiasm that Adagio almost believed her. “I’ll give Shiney a call and he’ll come pick us up right now. You won’t regret this!”
Twilight withdrew her phone from her pocket and made for the door to the study room. As she stepped out, Adagio felt a sinking feeling in her gut, and later she would wonder if it had been her body’s way of warning her about what was to come. She knew the party was going to be a disaster, but she didn’t know that the night would end in tears.
The afternoon was beginning its gradual transformation into evening when Shining Armor’s car pulled up in front of Pinkie Pie’s house.
The car held four occupants: Twilight and Shining Armor sitting in the front and Adagio once again sharing the back seat with Spike. Adagio surveyed the house through the window, before giving Twilight a skeptical look.
“This can’t possibly be where Pinkie Pie lives. It’s too… ordinary.”
Twilight laughed, and Spike climbed over Adagio’s legs and propped his legs up on the car door in order to see out the window. “Nope,” he said, his tail wagging. “This is the place! I’d recognize the smell of Pinkie’s baking anywhere.”
Drool began to dribble down Spike’s chin, causing Adagio to recoil away in disgust. He might have been able to talk, but he was still a dog.
“Alright, Twilight,” said Shining Armor, putting on his best big brother voice. “I’ll have my phone on me, so if you need a ride home just give me a call, and text me if you decide to stay over at one of your friend’s houses.”
“I will, Shiney.”
“And if anyone’s drinking–”
“There won’t be any drinking,” said Twilight, cutting him off. “It’s a Pinkie Pie party – the only thing the punch will be spiked with is way too much sugar.”
“I know,” said Shining Armor, “but if they are–”
“I’ll call you,” said Twilight, finishing his sentence for him.
“That’s my girl,” said Shining Armor. Twilight leaned over from her seat to give him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, before opening the passenger side door and stepping out, closing it behind her. Adagio was about to do the same, when Shining Armor spoke again.
“You two,” he said, craning his neck to get a better look at the girl and the dog behind him. “Keep an eye on Twilight for me, okay?”
Spike held up one of his paws and saluted Shining Armor. “Aye aye, captain!” he declared. Adagio merely nodded.
Shining Armor grabbed a pen from his glove compartment and scribbled something on a piece of paper, before handing it to Adagio.
“That’s my number. If anything happens, you give me a call, okay? Oh, and Cadance told me to tell you to have fun.”
“Thanks,” said Adagio, stuffing the paper into her pocket. A rapid-fire series of taps on her window made Adagio jump in surprise, before shooting Twilight a dejected look through the window.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she muttered, swinging open the door and allowing Spike to jump down before getting out herself.
The cool air was adrift with the muffled sounds of upbeat dance music emanating from the building before them. Shining Armor beeped his horn and Twilight waved to him as he drove away, leaving the two girls (and Spike) standing at the end of the driveway.
“You ready?” asked Twilight. She wrung her hands together nervously, stopping only when she realized Adagio was watching her.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” deflected Adagio.
Twilight reached down and took one of Adagio’s hand in her own, and began to lead her towards the door. Adagio put up no resistance, content to allow Twilight’s warm, familiar touch lead her down a path that could only end in disaster. They arrived at the front steps, and Twilight was reaching out to press the doorbell, when the door swung open, revealing the jubilant face of Pinkie Pie.
“Twilight!” she exclaimed, leaping forward and locking Twilight in an inescapable hug, dislodging her hand from Adagio’s. After a few seconds she let go (leaving Twilight gasping for air) and turned towards the other new arrivals.
“And you brought Spike and Adagio, too!”
Pinkie Pie lunged, but Adagio had seen what she did to Twilight was ready. She held her hand out in front of her, keeping the other girl at arm’s length.
“No hugs,” she said stiffly. A little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she’d let Twilight hug her, but she quickly silenced it. That was Twilight. It was different.
Pinkie Pie, seemingly unphased by Adagio’s rejection, moved on to Spike, who proved more accepting of her affection.
“Oh yeah, that’s the stuff,” he said, kicking his leg as Pinkie Pie scratched behind his ears.
Twilight rolled her eyes at Spike, before turning her attention to Pinkie Pie. “Have any of the other girls arrived yet?”
“Applejack and Rarity,” said Pinkie Pie. “Sunset, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash are all on their way!”
“I can smell Rarity’s perfume from here,” noted Spike, sniffing the air. “That and… cupcakes?” His tail wagged madly and he dashed between Pinkie Pie’s legs and into the house. “I’ll see you girls later!”
“Spike– wait for us!” Twilight called after him, but it was too late. She sighed in exasperation. “We’d better go after him before he gets himself into trouble.”
“Okey-dokey-lokey!” recited Pinkie Pie, stepping aside to make room for Adagio to get by. Adagio hesitated for just a moment, reminded herself that she’d already come this far, and followed Twilight.
Applejack and Rarity might have been the only other Rainbooms to arrive yet, but they were definitely not the only other guests. Adagio might not have recognized most of them, but by the looks on the faces of those they passed in the hallway, they almost certainly recognized her.
“Hey, isn’t that–”
“What’s she doing here?”
Adagio grit her teeth and did her best not to look anyone in the eye. She felt like the general of a defeated army being paraded through the streets of an enemy capital. These were the students of Canterlot High, and there would be no hiding the truth from them. They knew exactly what Adagio had done, and what she was.
Adagio didn’t realize she’d stopped until Twilight took her hand once again.
“Come on,” she urged, not forcefully but gently and with an air of understanding. “I’m thirsty, why don’t we go grab something to drink?”
Adagio nodded, and once again allowed Twilight to lead the way.
Their first stop was the kitchen, and although Spike was nowhere to be seen, they did encounter Rarity chatting with a vaguely familiar boy with blue hair. Adagio would have been perfectly content to simply pass by, but Twilight did not share her antisocial intentions.
“Hey, Rarity!” said Twilight, approaching the pair. Adagio lurked sullenly behind her. “And, ah, hi, Flash.”
Flash. Flash Sentry. The name popped into her head and she suddenly remembered how she knew this boy. Like the others he was a student of Canterlot High, but, more specifically, he had also played in the Battle of the Bands. His was one of the few performances that hadn’t been, well, terrible, and if Adagio had remembered someone as insignificant as him, there was no question he would remember her.
Flash raised his hand in an awkward greeting, only to have it go limp when he caught sight of Adagio. His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Rarity.
“Twilight, darling!” cried Rarity, holding out her arms and engaging Twilight in yet another hug. “And I see you’re here with Adagio! How are you, dear?”
Caught off guard by being suddenly dragged into the conversation, Adagio’s only response was a sort of half shrug.
“Hold on,” said Flash, looking hopelessly confused. “You guys are friends now?”
“But of course!” said Rarity. “We try to befriend everyone we hit with a laser!”
Flash scratched his head. “That’s… true. I guess.”
“We were just grabbing something to drink,” said Twilight. As enthusiastic as she’d been to greet Rarity, Twilight didn’t seem all that interested in talking to Flash.
“Well, you’ve come to the right place!” Rarity held out her arm towards the island in the middle of the kitchen, upon which rested a variety of drinks. “Let’s see here. We have a lovely sparkling orange juice which I brought, apple cider – courtesy of Applejack, of course – and a variety of pop. Oh, and Pinkie Pie’s punch, though, I can’t recommend that unless you’re planning to see a dentist sometime soon.”
Flash glanced uneasily at the plastic cup in his hand, before pouring its contents down the sink.
“I think I’ll just have some water, thanks,” said Twilight, grabbing an empty cup from a stack on the counter. Flash bumbled his way away from the sink, only to find himself in Twilight’s way as she approached the refrigerator.
“Sorry,” he muttered, stepping aside, but Twilight ignored him and produced a water pitcher to fill her glass.
“Would you like any, Adagio?”
“No, thanks,” said Adagio. Twilight’s treatment of Flash was surprisingly distant, and if Adagio didn’t know any better, almost cold. Very different from the Twilight Adagio was used to, and she wasn’t sure quite what to think. She might have had more time to ponder this curious behaviour, if not for Pinkie Pie’s voice cutting through the din of the party.
“Hey, everybody, Timber’s here!”
Adagio’s mouth morphed instantaneously into a snarl, and if she had been holding a cup she most assuredly would have crushed it as her fingers curled into fists. Her heart pounded in her ears like the beating of war drums, and her breathing became quick and uneven. If there was one human being whose presence could have made this night even worse, it was Timber.
Luckily for Adagio, no one was looking at her, for when Pinkie Pie had made her announcement, Twilight’s jaw had dropped… and so had her cup.
Cold water splashed over the ankles of the assembled teenagers, sending Rarity leaping backwards with a surprised shriek. She clutched Flash’s shoulder who, for his part, took the whole thing rather well.
“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry!” said Twilight, snapping out of her daze and surveying the mess she’d made.
“It’s quite alright, it’s just a bit of water,” said Rarity, doing her best to hide her grimace. “I didn’t realize Timber would be making an appearance tonight.”
Twilight frowned. “Neither did I.”
Rarity blinked. She stole a quick look at Adagio (who cocked an eyebrow at her) before looking back to Twilight. She cleared her throat.
“I should probably go out there,” said Twilight. She bit her lip and looked back at Adagio.
Adagio was reminded of earlier in the week when Timber had called Twilight during their study session. At the time, Adagio had assumed Twilight’s reaction was irritation over the interruption, but seeing the look on her face now… well, this certainly wasn’t the sickening doe-eyed expression she’d worn the last time he showed up unannounced. Something was different.
Something, but not everything. Although the irrational part of Adagio’s brain wanted nothing more than to witness Twilight spurn Timber’s advances, it was outvoted by the parts that didn’t want to see Timber at all. She was certain that Twilight was going to ask Adagio to come with her, and Adagio really did not want to have to tell her no. Fortunately, she didn’t have to.
Rarity took a step forward, slipped dramatically on the wet floor, and caught herself on the kitchen’s island, knocking over a large jug of cider in the process. The cider spilled over the countertop and onto the tiled floor below (conveniently, Adagio noted, away from Rarity’s shoes), creating an even larged mess.
“Oh my, how clumsy of me!” declared Rarity. She grabbed a roll of paper towel off the counter and held it out towards Adagio. “Adagio, would you be a dear help clean this up while Flash and I look for a mop?”
Adagio opened her mouth, but the paper towel had already been thrust into her arms, and Flash was being dragged out of the kitchen.
“Do we really need both of us to–”
“Yes!” interrupted Rarity, giving him a pointed look as they disappeared around a corner.
Twilight looked sheepishly at Adagio. “I guess I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”
“Yeah,” said Adagio.
For several seconds neither of them moved. Twilight wrung her hands together, and looked for a moment as if she was going to say something, but stopped herself. Eventually she turned and walked out of the kitchen and out of sight.
Adagio’s fingers clenched, digging into the roll of paper towel like a set of talons. She wanted to leave, but that would be declaring to the world (but mostly to Twilight) that… what? That the presence of Timber was enough to drive her away? She was allowed to not like someone, wasn’t she? But even as she asked herself these questions, she already knew that she couldn’t go through with it. Leaving felt like admitting defeat, but defeat in what, Adagio wasn’t quite sure. She just knew it was a battle she wanted – no, needed – to win.
In her frustration she threw the roll of paper towel on the floor, where it bounced once before coming to rest in the mixed pool of water and cider. She watched as the liquid was absorbed by the towels, turning them soggy and brown as it crept further into the roll like a festering rot. Of course, Flash and Rarity chose that moment to return from their search.
“So you really think she–”
Rarity hushed him as the pair entered the kitchen, mop and bucket in hand.
“Darling, you’re supposed to unravel the towels before you – it doesn’t matter. Let’s get started, shall we?”
As it turned out, ‘let’s get started’ was code for ‘let’s let Flash do it,’ as before long the two girls were standing idly as Flash Sentry mopped up a mess he played no part in creating.
“Are you sure there’s nothing we can do, Flash?” asked Rarity.
“No,” said Flash, hefting the bucket off the floor with a grunt, “I’m pretty much done. Just need to find a place to dump this.”
“If you go through the living room there’s a door to the back yard. I’m sure you can find somewhere to dispose of it out there.”
Flash nodded and took a tentative step forward. The brown water sloshed in the bucket, but he was able to adjust his grip to avoid spilling any onto the freshly cleaned floor.
“Adagio, would you mind helping him with that?”
Hearing her name dragged Adagio back into the conversation to which she’d only been paying partial attention. She tore her eyes away from the doorway Twilight had disappeared down, and gave Rarity a puzzled look.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked.
“Help Flash, dear,” repeated Rarity. “You know, get the door for him, make sure no one bumps into him. The last thing we need is another mess.”
Adagio was about to turn her down – she was no lackey, after all – when she heard it. Adagio had never heard Timber Spruce’s laugh before, but from the way the sound cut through her and brought bile to her throat, there was no doubt in Adagio’s mind it was him. She knew immediately that she had to get away, and while she had no desire to shepherd Flash Sentry through a house crowded with teenagers, it was a good excuse as any.
“Fine,” said Adagio, curtly. “Come on, Flash.”
“Right behind you,” he replied.
Fortunately, there was an exit from the kitchen into the living room that did not involve crossing paths with Timber Spruce. It did, however, involve more dirty looks and whispers from the students of Canterlot High as the two fought their way through the crowd. At first, it seemed as if they were simply content to stare and gossip, but as they entered the final stretch towards the door, a girl stepped in front of Adagio, blocking their way.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie demands to know what she is doing here.”
“Excuse me?”
But Trixie wasn’t looking at Adagio – a fact that infuriated her all the more – and was instead looking straight past her at Flash Sentry.
“Same thing you are, Trixie, now, can you get out of the way?”
Trixie harrumphed, but didn’t budge. “I doubt that. The last time anyone saw her she was trying to brainwash everyone and steal Trixie’s spotlight, and you really expect me to believe she just happens to show up tonight?”
“I’m standing right here,” growled Adagio.
Trixie finally met her gaze with a baleful glare. “So what is it this time?” she asked. “Are you going to use your Siren Magic to make us all fail our exams?”
If Adagio was in a better mood she might have laughed at the absurd notion, or at the accompanying waggling of Trixie’s fingers, but instead she simply felt annoyed. Taking Adagio’s lack of response as a sign of weakness, Trixie continued.
“Oh, that’s right, you don’t have magic anymore, do you?”
Trixie had gone too far. It was enough that she had to deal with the presence of Timber Spruce, but asking her to suffer through the insults of a two-bit hack was asking too much. Adagio felt her fingernails digging into her palms and her hands begin to shake.
“Shut up,” she said.
“What was that?” asked Trixie, cupping a hand to her ear. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“I said shut up!”
Trixie puffed out her chest. “Make me.”
Adagio wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Lash out, yell, but she was certain things between the two girls would have escalated if Flash Sentry hadn’t interposed himself between them.
“That’s enough, Trixie!”
“But she–”
“I don’t care,” said Flash, cutting her off. “All I know is that this bucket is really heavy, so if you don’t move before my arms give out, it’s going all over you.”
Trixie glanced down into murky liquid and wrinkled her nose in disgust. With a great deal of reluctance she stepped out of the way.
“I’ll be watching you,” she sneered.
“Good,” said Adagio, sliding open the door. “I hear it’s a good view.”
Trixie’s cheeks reddened and she stormed off as Adagio and Flash stepped through the door and out onto a wooden deck. Adagio slid the door closed behind them to discourage any more disgruntled CHS students from airing their grievances.
“Sorry about her,” said Flash. He waddled across the deck, lifting the bucket up and dumping its contents over the side.
“It’s fine,” said Adagio. As obnoxious as Trixie had been, Adagio could at least understand where she was coming from. It was only natural to want to confront your enemies, especially when they were weak – and Adagio was all too aware of the weakness of her human body. “Sorry Rarity roped you into cleaning up her mess.”
Flash shrugged and leaned against the railing. “It’s alright. Honestly, I was looking for a reason to get out of there anyway.”
Adagio cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”
Flash sighed. “It’s kind of complicated, kind of stupid, but, well, I sort of had this… thing. For Twilight. Not this Twilight – the other one. You know–?”
“I know,” said Adagio.
“Right, well, it’s kind of weird for me. I know they’re not the same person, but it’s still strange going from… whatever it was that we had, to not even getting a second glance. I guess it’s sort of the opposite for you, huh?”
Adagio didn’t respond. Flash might have struggled with the two Twilights, but to Adagio they were two altogether different people. There was one girl named Twilight who was her enemy, and another who was her…
...Friend.
“Anyway, call it whatever you want, but seeing her with Timber just drudges that stuff back up. So instead of sucking it up like an adult, I figured coming out here and hiding from my problems would be easier. Like I said, kind of stupid, huh?”
“Kind of,” said Adagio, wallowing once again in her hypocrisy. She rested her elbows on the railing and stared up into the endless black expanse above. The crescent moon smiled coyly down at her, and she wondered idly whether the twinkling stars that surrounded it were the same ones that shined over Equestria.
They stayed like that for a while, two kindred spirits alone together. Eventually, Flash stretched and stood up straight.
“I’d better get back in there. You coming?”
“Not yet,” said Adagio, still watching the stars.
“Alright, well, it’s getting chilly out here. Don’t stay out too long, okay?”
Adagio nodded, and heard the opening and closing of the sliding door as Flash Sentry left her to face their shared demon.
She wasn’t sure how long she was out there, staring at the sky and listening to the muted music echoing from within, but as the night grew darker Flash’s prediction came true and the temperature began to drop rapidly. Adagio did her best to ignore it, but after a few more tortuous minutes her body had had enough and she was forced to admit defeat. Fumbling with her shivering fingers, she managed to pry open the glass door and re-enter the party.
It must have been an ominous sight to behold: Adagio, the monster, stepping in from the darkness, her skin pale and her hair billowing in a chill wind. Several of the nearby students stepped back in alarm, and among them Adagio recognized Applejack. She didn’t share the same look of suspicion as the others when they managed to compose themselves, but she did look like she was considering approaching Adagio, and somehow that was worse.
Not wanting to give her the chance, Adagio took the opportunity to dash through the crowd. It was rather conspicuous (it was hard not to be with such a volume of vibrant orange hair) but quick, for without Trixie around, none of the others were brave enough to get in Adagio’s way.
Once she’d broken free of the mob of students she took a sharp turn down a previously unexplored hallway. In Adagio’s second stroke of (good) luck for the evening, the hallway was devoid of people, and it didn’t take her long to figure out why. Each of the doors were affixed with a homemade sign, and though each of them was written in a different color and surrounded with a variety of doodles that reminded Adagio of something Sonata might have drawn, they were all written with the same words:
‘Family is taking Maud to tour universities. Do not enter!’
Adagio rolled her eyes and chose a door at random. She could hide out here until Timber left (how she’d know when he was gone, she hadn’t figured out yet) without risking anyone finding her. Sure, she was violating the privacy of Pinkie Pie’s family, but given the choice between that and risking having to look at Timber’s stupid face, the choice was an easy one.
The door creaked open, casting a thin beam of light into the darkened room. Adagio fumbled in search of a lightswitch (her fingers were no longer numb, but bristling with pain as if their tips were being jabbed with tiny, fiery pokers) and was eventually rewarded with the sight of a surprisingly plain bedroom. At first, she thought she might have stumbled into a guest room from the utter lack of personal touches, but the slightly ajar closet revealed several sets of clothes remarkable only in how unremarkable they were. Muted colors, dull designs, all made of materials that made Adagio itchy just looking at them. There was a full length mirror hanging on one of the walls, and inside it Adagio’s reflection stared back at her with flushed cheeks and a nose red from the cold. She also noticed a terrarium of some kind, but its light was off and it seemed empty.
“This can’t be Pinkie Pie’s room,” muttered Adagio, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when a response came from behind her.
“Nope, hers is the one next door.”
Adagio spun around. Spike stared up at her, crumbs sticking to his snout and his tail wagging jovially. He must have come through door that Adagio had neglected to close all the way – a mistake that she was quick to rectify.
“What are you doing in here?” asked Spike.
“I could ask you the same question,” replied Adagio.
“I saw you come in here and followed you,” said Spike. “Twilight’s looking for you.”
“Is Timber still with her?”
“Yeah, they’re always together when he’s in town,” said Spike with a chuckle. Adagio’s expression darkened. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” lied Adagio.
“Are you sure? You don’t look very happy.”
Adagio pressed her back against the wall and allowed herself to slide down into a sitting position. “That’s because I’m not.”
“Well,” said Spike, “I know how to fix that!”
Adagio looked at him skeptically. “Do you now?”
Spike nodded. “Yup.”
“And how would we do that?”
“The first step is to get out of this room and head back into the party.”
The image of Timber kissing Twilight flashed across Adagio’s mind. “Pass.”
Spike’s ears drooped. “So you’re just going to sit in here by yourself?”
“That was my plan.”
“So why’d you even come?”
She’d come because she wanted to spend time with Twilight.
“I don’t know.”
Adagio rested her head on the wall behind her and closed her eyes. So, now she was lying to dogs. This had to be a new low.
As Adagio pondered what she could tell Spike to convince him to return to the party without her (and without revealing her hiding spot), the telltale rattling of a turning doorknob. Her eyes shot open and darted towards the door, only to find it stationary. Realization dawned on her: whoever it was, they weren’t entering this room, but the one adjacent to it. Pinkie’s room. Adagio barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before a voice from the other side of the wall made her heart leap into her throat.
“Twilight...”
It might have been hard to hear over the muffled sounds of partying, but the voice was unmistakable. Timber Spruce seemed destined to haunt her, and he had brought Twilight Sparkle along just to rub it in.
But no, that wasn’t it. Timber didn’t exist purely to torment her (though it certainly felt that way), and he couldn’t have known where Adagio was or that she could hear him. There had to be another reason he had secreted himself away from the party. Into a bedroom. With Twilight.
Adagio’s breath hitched and suddenly she was overcome with a wave of nausea. Her body seized up, leaving her at the mercy of what was about to happen in the next room.
“Just a second, Timber,” said Twilight, “I’m just going to call her and see where she is. It should only take a minute.”
Adagio’s heart resumed beating, and with it came a sudden rush of adrenaline. Of course, Twilight had wanted somewhere quiet to make a phone call! Twilight wouldn’t – she would never…
“Before you do that, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Can it wait until afterwards?”
“No, I… I don’t think it can.”
Timber’s voice didn’t hold the boundless confidence that Adagio remembered. He sounded uncertain. Vulnerable. Apparently Twilight noticed this, too, as Adagio could hear the concern in her own voice when she responded.
“Okay,” she said. “What is it?”
There was a pause, and by straining her ears, Adagio thought she could hear the sound of someone pacing back and forth.
“It’s just...” There was another pause as Timber struggled to find the words he wanted to use. “Are you sure she didn’t, you know, leave?”
“I’m sure,” said Twilight. “I know Adagio, she wouldn’t leave without telling me.”
“Do you, though? Twilight, this isn’t exactly a big house. If she was still here–”
“What’s this about, Timber?” interrupted Twilight, before letting her voice soften to the point that Adagio could barely hear her through the wall. “Talk to me.”
Timber sighed. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I was just hoping we’d get to spend some time together tonight, have some fun, but this whole time you’ve been distracted looking for someone else.”
Adagio felt a twinge of guilt. Twilight hadn’t spent her night hanging off Timber’s arm, she’d spent it looking for her.
“Timber, I didn’t even know you were coming, and I promised her–”
“I know,” said Timber. “Believe me, I get it. It’s just...” He trailed off again, leaving the room(s) in another brief silence.
“Timber,” said Twilight, hesitantly, “are you… jealous?”
“Can you blame me? She gets to see you every day. You talk for hours on end, and even when you get home and call me, all you can talk about is how much fun you had and what you’re going to do next time you see her.
“Don’t get me wrong – I love it when you’re happy. When I listen to you talk about something you’re excited about – the way you talk faster so you can tell me about it as soon as you can, and the adorable way you start stumbling over your words – I can’t help but grin like an idiot and be thankful that a girl like you would give a guy like me the time of day.
“Or, at least, I used to. For the past week I’ve had this… feeling, like my stomach is tied in a knot and someone is pulling on either end. Why, though? Shouldn’t it be enough knowing that you’re happy, even if I’m not involved? But I can’t shake the feeling that, one of these days, you’ll realize that you’re happier when I’m not around, or that calling me every night is starting to become a chore and that I’m holding you back from being even happier. I’m not going to lie, it’s not a good feeling. But how messed up is that? Even saying it outloud makes me disgusted with myself – how can hearing about how happy you are make me feel so bad? I’m scared I’ll lose you, but I’m even more scared that I’m turning into one of those horrible, controlling boyfriends you hear about – the kind that don’t want their girlfriends talking to anyone but them – and even the thought of doing that to you sickens me.
“I thought that maybe it was because of how we left things after the movie. Sure, we made up over text, but maybe actually seeing you would be enough to get these stupid thoughts out of my head, you know? So when you told me about the party I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to get rid of these doubts once and for all. After everything you told me, I never thought she’d come to a Canterlot High party, and yet… here we are. Every time I looked at you tonight, you were looking over your shoulder for her, and, though I hated myself for it, I couldn't help but think ‘why her?’”
As Timber finished his outburst, Adagio sat in shocked silence, trying to process everything he’d said. Timber Spruce was jealous? Of her? It seemed impossible, but there it was. Not only was he jealous, but the jealousy was eating him up inside, and to Adagio’s surprise she felt… bad. Why did she feel bad? She didn’t like Timber – until now she’d loathed him almost as much as the Rainbooms – but his misery brought her no comfort, no warm feeling of satisfaction. Instead, she just felt empty.
“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” asked Twilight. Her voice was trembling.
“Because I was scared of what you might say,” said Timber.
“You should never be scared to talk to me.”
“I know, which is why I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to promise you’ll tell me the truth. I know you will, I just want to hear you say it. Can you do that?”
“Okay,” said Twilight, “I promise.”
Timber took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. “Twilight,” he said, “do you–”
“Sprinkles!”
Pinkie Pie’s voice echoed through the house, followed immediately by the eruption of what Adagio could only assume was fireworks. The cacophony was enough to drown out whatever was being said in the other room for several seconds, and the cheers that came after it for even longer. When the volume of the party returned to its previous level, Adagio pressed her ear to the wall (abandoning all semblance of not eavesdropping), trying to catch what was being said. At first, she thought they might have left during the uproar, but after a few long seconds, she heard Timber speak again.
“Okay.”
“Timber, I’m sorry, I–”
“It’s okay,” he repeated. Much like Adagio felt, his voice sounded hollow. “Look, I’d better get going. It’s a long drive home and I… I’ll see you around.”
The doorknob turned again, and someone stepped out.
“I’m sorry,” said Twilight again. Adagio heard one sniff, then another, followed by a sob that took her cold, shriveled heart and shattered it into a thousand pieces. She didn’t think, instead she just stood and moved immediately to the door. The door was barely open a crack before she felt Spike dash through her legs, his mind undoubtedly consumed by the same all-consuming thought as hers:
I have to get to Twilight.
Adagio followed him, only to stop dead in her tracks. Standing in the hallway, one arm braced against the far wall and his head hanging low, was Timber.
He glanced at her for a split second, before averting his gaze.
“Oh, there you are,” he said, his voice wavering but still doing its best to sound friendly. “Twilight, she – uh – she’s in there. I think… I think she needs to talk to you.”
Timber let his arm drop and turned away from her. “I was just leaving. Maybe I’ll talk to Pinkie Pie on the way out about those darn leaky pipes.”
Pipes?
Timber wiped his face with his sleeve, leaving behind an unmistakable trail of moisture.
Adagio understood.
“Take care of her for me, okay?”
Adagio could only nod dumbly, but Timber didn’t turn around to see before he began walking down the hallway and out of her life.
“Adagio!”
Spike stood in front of the closed door, staring up at her desperately with his tail tucked between his legs. Adagio wasted no more time, grasping the knob and pulling the door open.
Adagio would later notice the pictures on the walls, the balloons, and all the other touches that made this room feel like Pinkie Pie, but right now all she could see was Twilight. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, and a steady stream of tears running down her arms. And the sounds she was making… it was all Adagio could do not to cry herself. Once again, Spike darted past her, sprinting over to Twilight and putting his front paws on her legs. She opened her eyes.
“Oh, Spike...”
She lifted him up, drawing him into a tight embrace that he returned with licks and nuzzles.
The sound of the door closing made Twilight look up in alarm.
“Adagio,” said Twilight. Their eyes met, and for a split second the tears stopped. “Timber… he–”
And then it all came out. Twilight did her best to silence her sobs, but there was no stopping it now. Adagio closed the distance between them in two long steps, taking a seat on the bed next to her. Her mind cried out in protest – she didn’t know what to do! She was used to making people cry, not comforting them! – but luckily her body knew what to do. One arm wrapped around Twilight, pulling her close, and the other closed around one of Twilight’s own. She gasped.
“Your hands are freezing!”
“Sorry.” She tried to release Twilight’s hand, only for the girl to squeeze it tightly and refuse to let go, before burrowing her face into Adagio’s shoulder. This close, Adagio could feel every sob that wracked Twilight’s body. Every tear that soaked into her shirt. Every beat of Twilight’s broken heart.
“It’s okay, Twilight Sparkle,” she said, softly. “I’m here.”
Adagio could see it through the lids of her eyes and feel its warmth on her skin. But she wasn’t ready for the light, not yet willing to face the trials of the waking world, so she turned away, finding in the darkness something else entirely. Adagio opened her eyes and there she was:
Twilight Sparkle.
She was close, so close that their noses were practically touching and, with each rhythmic rise and fall of Twilight’s chest, Adagio could feel the girl’s hot breath on her face. Her eyes were closed, Adagio’s own shadow keeping the sun from her eyes and allowing her to remain blissfully asleep.
Had Adagio ever let anyone get this close to her? Clingy as Sonata was, Adagio was always able to keep her at arm’s length, and Aria… well, if there was one thing they could agree on, it was the importance of personal space. But Twilight was different. Close as they were, Adagio felt no urge to push her away. In fact…
Twilight stirred.
She scrunched up her face, letting out a cute little groan as she stretched her arms, stopping abruptly as one of her hands brushed against Adagio’s own. She opened her eyes, blinked, and regarded Adagio which a look of confusion that quickly morphed into a smile.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” replied Adagio.
It was good to see her smile. There hadn’t been any smiles the night before, only tears. Lots and lots of tears—so many that Adagio could still feel a damp spot on her shoulder from where Twilight had rested her head. Adagio had felt so helpless watching her cry, unable to offer anything more than her shoulder and some consoling words that had sounded empty when she’d said them aloud. But now Twilight was smiling, so maybe those small things had been enough.
She doubted it, but she couldn’t help but hope.
They stayed like that for a while, until their comfortable silence was disturbed by the creaking of wood and the squeak of a door hinge. Both girls reluctantly sat up, spotting Spike’s nose poking through the space left by the slightly ajar door. It took him a few seconds, but he eventually managed to squeeze the rest of the way through and look triumphantly up at their amused expressions.
“Hey, you’re awake!”
Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. She frowned, smacked her lips, and half-turned away from Adagio before sending a pair of probing fingers into her mouth. When she withdrew them they held a long, golden hair, and when it was fully extracted in her mouth it sprang up with an obvious curl. Twilight stared at it, wearing a mortified expression on her face, before glancing at Adagio who immediately turned away, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Spike snorted with laughter, his mirth met by two baleful glares to which he appeared unphased.
“Well, when you’re ready, Pinkie Pie is making pancakes in the kitchen. They should be done any minute now.”
“Thanks, Spike,” said Twilight. She reached down and gave him a scratch behind the ears.
“Twilight?”
“Yeah?”
“How are you feeling?”
Twilight sighed. “Better,” she said, but from the tone of her voice it was clear that ‘better’ didn’t mean ‘good’.
There was that helplessness again.
The look on Spike’s face indicated that he felt the same way. “I was going to head back out there, but I can stay here, if you want.”
Twilight shook her head. “It’s alright. You go on ahead, we’ll be right behind you.”
Spike nodded, lingering in the door for a moment before disappearing into the hall.
Silence fell over the room once again, though this time it felt a lot heavier than it had before. Adagio stood up and extended a hand Twilight.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Twilight—who had been wringing her own hands nervously since Spike had left—paused and, after a moment of hesitation, took Adagio’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Adagio held open the door and allowed Twilight to shuffle through, before closing it behind them.
From the hallway Adagio could hear the muffled sounds of conversation coming from the kitchen. The voices confirmed what she had assumed, that while most of the partygoers had left last night, the Rainbooms had slept over. She wondered how the girls would feel about their breakfast being crashed by a Siren.
Well, there’s no helping it now, she thought as she and Twilight rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen.
As they entered, Adagio too stock of the room’s occupants. Rarity and Applejack stood on either side of kitchen’s island, while Pinkie Pie faced the stove, a quick flick of her wrist sending a fluffy pancake tumbling through the air, before catching it in a pan with a satisfying sizzle.
“Morning, you two,” said Applejack with a nod and a tip of her hat. “We didn’t disturb you, did we?”
Twilight blinked. “I’m sorry?”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Applejack was just worried that I’d woken you when I poked my head into Pinkie Pie’s room to retrieve something.”
Applejack snorted. “Retrieve something, huh?”
“Yes, retrieve something! Not that I have to explain myself, but I left one of my makeup bags on her nightstand.”
“Whatever you say, Rares.”
Rarity let out an indignant huff and made a point to look anywhere but at Applejack, whose freckled face wore an exceedingly smug look.
“You, uh, didn’t wake us up,” said Twilight. Now it was Rarity’s turn to look smug.
“Well, anyway, I’m glad to see you up and around,” said Applejack. She rubbed her neck and turned her gaze to the floor. “Spike told us about what happened last night. With Timber.”
“Applejack!” hissed Rarity, but Twilight raised a hand to stop her.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m kind of glad he told you. I’ve never been part of a break-up before, so I wasn’t sure how to—”
Twilight’s voice hitched.
“How to—”
But she couldn’t finish. The first of a fresh onslaught of tears rolled down Twilight’s cheek, and she shuddered as she tried unsuccessfully to hold back a sob. Acting on pure instinct, reached out and took one of Twilight’s hands in her own, while on her other side Rarity put a reassuring hand on Twilight's shoulder.
“It’s alright, dear, let it out,” said Rarity. She stopped Twilight as she went to wipe her face on her sleeve, instead pressing a tissue into her hand.
Twilight sniffed. “Thanks, Rarity,” she said, dabbing at her face with the tissue with one hand while tightly squeezing Adagio’s hand with the other.
Applejack watched the display sheepishly from across the kitchen. Adagio felt the urge to chastise her—to defend Twilight from any more pain—but suppressed it. She knew Applejack hadn’t meant to make Twilight cry again, and it was clear that she already felt bad for bringing it up, so what would be the point?
Pinkie Pie sent another pancake into the air, though this time instead of landing back in the pan, it flipped over her head before touching down at the top of a neat (although precariously tall) stack of pancakes sitting on a plate in the middle of the island.
Adagio couldn’t help but be a little impressed.
“Pancakes are ready!”
Pinkie Pie followed her declaration by scooping up the plate of pancakes and steering them over to the kitchen table. With each bouncy step the pile swayed dangerously, drawing everyone’s attention away from Twilight until, finally, the plate found its home at the center of the table. The room let out a collective sigh of relief.
If it had been anyone else, Adagio might have thought the display was an intentional distraction to offset the gloom that had overtaken the room. But there was no way Pinkie Pie of all people was capable of such a calculated move… was there?
Intentional or not, it actually seemed to have worked. Rarity began setting out plates and cutlery as Applejack retrieved a pair of extra chairs from the living room, and all the while Pinkie Pie crowded the table with a vast assortment of condiments—most of which Adagio was fairly certain did not traditionally belong on pancakes, but all of them undoubtedly filled with sugar.
“We’re back!”
Rainbow Dash’s announcement was followed by the mighty crash of a slamming door. The sound drew a wince from everyone but Pinkie Pie and Applejack, the former appearing unphased while the latter made no attempt to hide her irritation.
“She’s going to break the hinges off the darn thing...” muttered Applejack as she set down the last chair around the table. There were now six traditional chairs with stiff wooden backs, a rocking chair, and a padded recliner. Adagio was contemplating whether to take the recliner for herself or save it for Twilight when Rainbow Dash waltzed into the kitchen before practically throwing herself into the cushioned seat.
Adagio growled under her breath.
Rainbow wore a tank top, running shoes, and a pair of tight athletic shorts. Her skin glistened with sweat and stray strands of her hair—which was even more unkempt than usual—were plastered to her face and neck. She wasn’t so much sitting in the recliner as she was lounging across it, her arms folded behind her head and her legs draped over the armrest on the opposite side.
Sunset Shimmer entered the kitchen next, followed by Fluttershy. Like Rainbow Dash, they were dressed for running, though their faces (Fluttershy’s especially) appeared far more flushed from the effort.
“Welcome back!” said Rarity. She sniffed the air, her expression souring for just a moment before returning to her cheerful grin (after taking a step away from the slightly pungent trio). “How was your run?”
“It was good,” said Sunset. She tugged the hair tie that had kept her hair neatly in a ponytail free, shaking her head to allow a cascade of fiery locks to escape their confinement. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sight. “We took the path off Maple Street, you know the one.”
“Only because Sunset slowed down to run with me,” said Fluttershy.
“I didn’t have to slow down for you, Fluttershy, I’m pretty sure we were running at the same pace.” Adagio searched for a tell that might indicate whether Sunset was lying for Fluttershy’s benefit, but couldn’t find one. “...But it was her idea to take the detour to the dog park.”
Fluttershy smiled guiltily.
“The dog park?” asked Twilight. “I wish I’d known you were going, I’d have let you take Spike with you.”
“We offered,” said Fluttershy, “but, umm...”
She trailed off, but Spike finished the thought for her. “...I told them I’d stay here. In case you needed me here when you woke up.”
There was a pregnant pause as the entire kitchen wondered how Twilight would react. Fortunately, their worries were unfounded. Twilight smiled and reached down, lifting Spike off the floor and cradling him in her arms.
“Thanks, Spike. You’re the best.”
Best dog, maybe, thought Adagio, before mentally chastising herself for being so petty.
Without further ado, breakfast was underway. Whether by a happy coincidence or an unspoken understanding between the Rainbooms, Adagio found herself sitting next to Twilight. Rarity was on her other side, which Adagio found that she didn’t mind, though she was somewhat less enthused about the girl sitting across from her.
Rainbow Dash.
Their eyes locked almost immediately, but instead of the sneering suspicion that Adagio had come to expect of her, she found Rainbow Dash watching her intently, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Even more surprising was the fact that, after a few long seconds, Rainbow Dash broke their impromptu staring contest with a short nod.
Adagio blinked. That was… unexpected.
She had little time to ponder Rainbow Dash’s peculiar behavior before the meal began in earnest. One by one, each girl took a pancake—or, in the case of Rainbow Dash and Applejack, three pancakes—from the top of the stack and placed them onto their plates. Then began the bartering.
“Sugarcube, could you pass the apple butter?”
Adagio wasn’t sure who sugarcube was meant to be, but Fluttershy smiled and handed her a jar of a strange brownish substance.
It was Rainbow Dash’s turn next. “Rarity, trade you the regular butter for that syrup?”
“No thank you, darling, but I will pass it to you,” said Rarity. She touched the bottle and grimaced. “Pinkie Pie, honestly, do you ever wipe these things off?” With the syrup bottle dangling between her thumb and index finger, she quickly delivered it to Rainbow Dash’s waiting hands (Rainbow was not at all concerned about the stickiness of the bottle) before scrubbing her defiled fingers with a napkin.
“I’ll have that when you’re done, if you don’t mind,” said Twilight. She glanced at Adagio sheepishly. “I guess you could say I’m a pancake traditionalist.”
Adagio shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t had them before.”
The table shook as a pair of fists slammed into it, and Adagio imagined she heard a record scratch.
“What?”
Pinkie Pie stared at her from down the table, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“You’ve never had pancakes?”
Adagio shook her head. It wasn’t as if she’d never heard of pancakes, she’d even seen them in diners and the occasional fast food restaurant. Those pancakes had been thin, rubbery looking discs, and had never appealed to Adagio’s rather limited appetite for human food. The pancakes before her, however, were a different beast (or, rather, pastry) altogether. They were thick, fluffy, and—though Adagio didn’t want to admit it—smelled divine.
“You don’t have pancakes in Equestria?” Pinkie Pie’s look of shock and horror was now directed at Sunset.
“We do. She probably wouldn’t have eaten them, though.”
“Why not?”
Sunset bit her lip. “Because she’s… you know.”
Pinkie Pie wasn’t catching the hint. “Because she’s…?”
“A Siren,” said Adagio.
The rest of the table fell silent, but Pinkie Pie either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Sirens don’t eat pancakes?”
“Sirens don’t eat in the same way ponies or humans do. Even in this world feeding has been more than enough to sustain us… until recently, anyway.”
“Ooh. Because we broke your magic pendant thingies?”
“Pinkie!” hissed Sunset.
“What?” Pinkie whispered back.
“Yes,” said Adagio, eager to put this conversation behind her as quickly as possible. “Because of that.”
“So you’ve never had pancakes?” confirmed Pinkie Pie.
“That’s why we’re having this entire conversation,” muttered Rainbow Dash.
“Nope.”
“Then you’ve got to try them!”
Adagio glanced down at the pancake on her plate, then back up at Pinkie Pie. She picked up her fork.
“Not like that!” cried Pinkie Pie. “You have to put something on them! Like whipped cream, or fruit, or sprinkles!” Her hand reached out towards a colorful can of sprinkles, only to stop mere inches away Applejack grabbed her wrist reflexively and shook her head.
“Okay, maybe not sprinkles, but you get the idea. A naked pancake is a sad pancake, and you don’t want your pancake to be sad, do you?”
“I think I’d prefer my pancake not to have any emotions, considering I’m about to eat it.”
Across the table Rainbow Dash snorted.
“Maybe just start with syrup,” said Twilight, nudging the bottle towards her.
The bottle was, as Rarity had earlier lamented, unpleasantly sticky. Copying Twilight, Adagio drizzled the viscous brown liquid over her pancake and was about to carve out her first bite when she felt seven pairs of eyes upon her.
She lowered her fork. “Can we not watch me eat, please?”
It took a few minutes, but eventually conversation that was not about Adagio or her eating habits picked up enough that Adagio felt comfortable enough to actually eat her pancake. She cut off a small piece and tentatively brought it to her lips.
It was incredible.
The pancake itself was warm, soft, and buttery, and on its own might have been too dry, but when paired with the syrup (which itself had a rich maple flavor) it became, without a doubt, the single greatest thing Adagio had ever eaten in the human world. The look on her face must have given her away, as no sooner had she swallowed that first bite did she hear a squeal from down the table.
“I think she likes it!” Pinkie Pie said, her grin stretching from ear to ear. Applejack gave her a withering look.
“For goodness’ sake, Pinkie Pie, let the poor girl eat her breakfast!”
The meal had been a long, loud affair, with lots of chatting, laughing, and just a little commiserating about the upcoming exams. Though it had been something of a rocky start, Adagio found that eating breakfast with the Rainbooms had been somewhat less of an ordeal than she’d originally expected. She hadn’t enjoyed it, of course—one does not simply enjoy dining with their sworn enemies—but she was willing the admit to herself that the experience had at least not been a negative one.
While most of the other girls cleaned up in the kitchen (Rainbow Dash had called dibs on the first shower and fled before anyone could ask her to do anything) Adagio found herself alone once again with Twilight.
“Adagio?”
Twilight was sitting next to her on the couch in Pinkie Pie’s living room. Adagio had only briefly been in the room during the party, but all around her there were little details—a stray plastic cup, an empty plate with a smattering of crumbs—that acted as little reminders of the night before.
“Yeah?”
Twilight had her hands in her lap, her fingers drumming restlessly on her legs.
“I just wanted to say thanks. For being there last night.”
Adagio hung her head. It might have been true that she’d done her best to console Twilight, but wasn’t it also true that it had been her avoiding Twilight that had put her in that situation in the first place? If what Timber said was true, it had been the time Twilight had been spending with Adagio that had sowed the doubts in his mind that eventually led to the confrontation at the party. To the break up.
And now Twilight Sparkle was thanking her.
Directly or not, it had been her influence that had, once again, caused Twilight to suffer. She felt like a parasite that had latched itself onto Twilight’s life, bleeding her dry while at the same time making her believe that this was all somehow for the best. A little over a week ago Adagio would have wondered why she cared so much (if, at that time, she’d even been capable of such a feat), but now things were different. She knew she hated hurting Twilight, but she seemed destined to do it anyway.
“You’re welcome, Twilight Sparkle,” said Adagio. You’re welcome for all the pain I’ve caused you, and all that pain that’s yet to come.
Adagio’s dark thoughts were pierced as Twilight scooched closer on the couch before resting her head on Adagio’s shoulder and closing her eyes. Adagio felt her heart rate rising but fought to keep it under control, knowing that, at this distance, Twilight could almost certainly hear the war raging in her chest.
Twilight sighed. “Why is love so… complicated?”
Adagio leaned her head back and gazed up at the ceiling.
“I don’t know.”
Eventually the distant clattering of dishes and steady hiss of running water ceased, and the solitude of Adagio Dazzle and Twilight Sparkle drew, once again, to a close. Rarity entered first, staring at her fingers and making a clicking noise with her tongue, probably searching for any sign of pruning. She stopped when she noticed them on the couch, placing her hands on her hips and allowing a coy smile to grace her lips.
“Oh dear, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
Adagio felt herself stiffen, but Twilight didn’t even open her eyes. “Just tired,” she groaned.
“Adagio, darling, are you warm? You’re looking a little red.”
If Adagio hadn’t been blushing before, she certainly was now. Below her she caught Twilight with one eye open, sneaking a peak at her. She did her best to look irritated.
“And what are you looking at?”
Twilight giggled.
“Oh, I’m only teasing,” said Rarity with a wave of her hand. “Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind a little shuteye myself, but I should probably be getting home. I still have a lot to review before Monday.”
The mention of studying caught Twilight’s attention. She sat up straight (leaving Adagio’s shoulder cold) and stretched.
“We should probably do some studying, too,” she said, looking at Adagio. “What do you say? Library?”
Adagio frowned. “Weren’t we going to the library tomorrow?”
“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go today as well, does it?” Twilight paused. “But if you don’t want to—”
“I didn’t say that!” said Adagio cutting her off. “I was just, you know, making sure. I’d have to go back to Crystal Prep first and have a shower and get my books… but yeah, let’s do it.”
More time studying meant a higher likelihood that she wouldn’t fail her midterms, which meant she was still on track to getting her magic back, and if that meant spending even more time with Twilight…
Well, Adagio was willing to accept those terms.
“Alright!” said Twilight, standing up and straightening her skirt. “I’ll call Shiney and see if he can pick us up.”
As Twilight retrieved her phone and darted out into the hallway to make the call, Adagio was surprised when Rarity took her place on the couch.
“Spike told us what you did last night.”
“W-what?” stammered Adagio. “He did?”
Rarity nodded. “It was very kind of you to be there for Twilight like that.”
Adagio felt her heart dislodge from her throat. For a split second she thought Spike might have told Rarity about their semi-involuntary eavesdropping from the other room. “Oh,” she said, “that. Right.”
“Of course, dear, what else?” She batted her eyelashes. “Anyway, I knew things weren’t going perfectly between them, though I scarcely imagined that things would end quite so… abruptly. I don’t suppose you have any insight into the matter, do you?”
Rarity was fishing for something, Adagio knew it. Just how much had Spike told her and the other Rainbooms while she and Twilight slept? As Adagio did her best to unpack Rarity’s words and come up with a response that wouldn’t tip her hand one way or the other, Applejack entered the living room from the kitchen.
“Again, Rarity, really?”
Rarity drew an offended hand to her chest. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t give me none of that,” said Applejack, folding her arms. “You’ve got that scheming look on your face.”
“I’m not scheming!” pouted Rarity, but Applejack wasn’t buying it.
“Uh-huh,” she said, taking a seat in the newly replaced recliner and giving Rarity a skeptical look. “Then by all means, continue.”
Rarity huffed and looked away. “Well, after your terribly rude interruption, I don’t even remember what we were talking about!”
That didn’t bother Adagio in the slightest. Whatever game Rarity may or may not have been playing, Applejack’s arrival had given Adagio a convenient out.
The three girls lapsed into a silence that lasted until Twilight returned from the hall.
“Good news,” she said, “Shiney is in the area and says he can pick us up. He’ll be here in a couple minutes.”
She approached the couch, prompting Adagio and Rarity to adjust their positions to make room for her between them.
“Thanks,” said Twilight, sitting down. “And thank you, Rarity, for letting Shiney know that we were staying the night. With everything that happened at the party...”
“Think nothing of it, dear,” said Rarity.
“She’s a real saint,” said Applejack. Rarity merely smiled in response.
“Though I am curious, why did you have my brother’s cell number?”
“Nothing scandalous, I assure you,” said Rarity. “He gave it to me when he dropped you off at my house the first time you slept over—slipped it into my hand when you weren’t looking, the whole thing struck me as rather noir.”
“Same here,” said Applejack.
Twilight looked at Adagio, who reached a hand into her pocket and produced the scrap of paper with Shining Armor’s phone number scrawled upon it.
“Of course,” said Twilight, followed by a sigh. “I don’t know whether I should be glad that he cares so much, or frustrated that he doesn’t trust me.”
“It ain’t you he doesn’t trust, Twilight,” said Applejack.
“Who don’t we trust?”
Rainbow Dash had entered the living room from the hall. She’d changed out of her athletic wear and into her regular clothes (slightly-less-athletic wear) and her hair was still wet from the shower.
“Not us, Dash, Twilight just thinks her brother is being a little overprotective, is all.”
“Huh.” Rainbow Dash ignored the various unoccupied chairs around the room, instead opting to sit on the armrest of Applejack’s recliner. “I figured we were talking about Adagio.”
The grin she shot Adagio didn’t appear to have any malice behind it (or not much, anyway). Was it possible that Rainbow Dash was… messing with her? Either way, Applejack wasn’t having any of it.
“Cut it out, Dash, and you’re dripping all over me! Haven’t you ever heard of a towel?”
“Or a hairdryer?” asked Rarity.
“Nope,” said Rainbow Dash. She lowered her head, and before anyone had time to react, began to shake it like a wet dog. Drops of water flew everywhere as the other girls, Adagio included, tried in vain to avoid the spray.
“Rainbow Dash stop that this instant!” shrieked Rarity, which caused Rainbow Dash to laugh so hard she was forced to stop the assault, her hair falling into its usual messiness.
“Not funny!” If looks could kill, Rarity was in the process of murdering Rainbow Dash. “Are you proud of yourself? Look at what you did to my hair!”
Rainbow Dash’s laugher was joined by snickering from Applejack, who quickly found herself subject to the same baleful glare.
“Oh, you two are going to get it!”
“Two?” asked Applejack, trying her best to suppress her giggles. “But I didn’t—”
The argument continued, but Adagio’s attention was pulled away by a tap on her shoulder. Twilight, who had used her body as a shield to protect her phone from the water, now held it up for Adagio to see.
‘I’m outside,’ said the text. The sender was listed as ‘Shiney’.
Adagio nodded and stood up.
“Taking off?” asked Applejack.
“Yeah,” confirmed Twilight. “Our ride is waiting for us.”
“Good,” said Rarity, “better to have less witnesses if I am forced to strangle Rainbow Dash.”
Rainbow Dash barked a laugh. “I’d like to see you try!”
As Adagio and Twilight prepared to make their exit, the remainder of the Rainbooms gathered around to say their goodbyes. Once again, Adagio found them to be rather excessive with most of them offering Twilight a hug (Pinkie Pie had also tried to hug Adagio but, like before, was rebuffed) before finally they managed to get out the door.
Shining Armor’s car waited for them at the end of the driveway. Twilight climbed in the front seat, while Adagio opened the back door, allowed Spike to hop in, before getting in herself.
“Hey, Shiney,” said Twilight, meekly, once they were all inside.
Shining Armor responded by leaning over and pulling her into a big hug. Twilight held up admirably, and by the time the pair broke apart there were only a few tears shed into her big brother’s shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked.
Twilight sniffed and wiped her face on her sleeve. “I’m getting there.”
Shining Armor glanced into the back seat only briefly, but the look he gave Adagio was… confusing. He was smiling, but there was a searching look to his eyes, an uncertainty that Adagio’s guilt-ridden mind could only interpret as blame. Perhaps Shining Armor saw what Twilight couldn’t: that not only had Adagio failed to protect Twilight, she was the one who’d caused the pain in the first place.
Whatever it was that Shining Armor saw when he peered into Adagio’s heart, he kept it to himself.
The next morning Adagio Dazzle woke up alone.
It was Sunday, the final day before midterm exams would finally be upon the students of Crystal Prep academy. For many of them this was just another hurdle as they raced towards graduation and to the world beyond, but for Adagio it was different. There would be no more stumbling, to fail here would be to lose everything. Her entire future rested upon her successful completion of these exams, so logic would dictate that she should spend every waking minute going over what she’d learned, ensuring it was etched permanently into her mind to be recalled without hesitation when the time came.
And yet, Adagio lay in her bed.
Her mattress wasn’t as fluffy as Pinkie Pie’s, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. There was something luxurious about a fluffy mattress, of course, but there was something to be said for firmness, too. Adagio might not have missed her mattress, but there was another thing that Pinkie Pie’s bed had had that Adagio could quite literally feel the absence of.
She groaned and wipe the sleep out of her eyes. What was it about Twilight Sparkle that made her so easy to think about? It was as if she was hiding within Adagio’s subconscious, ready to leap out at even the slightest provocation. It would have been unbearably annoying if the thought of her wasn’t so damnably pleasant.
By all accounts she should be sick of Twilight Sparkle by now. In the last day alone there were maybe three hours that Twilight wasn’t at her side—the two of them having stayed late at the library—and they were going to meet today, too. The only people she’d ever spent so much time in such close proximity with were Aria and Sonata, and she’d only survived that ordeal by imagining the terrible things she wanted to inflict upon them. Not at all like the things she wanted to do with Twilight.
Adagio felt heat rush to her cheeks and threw off her covers, forcing a barrage of unwanted and unwelcome thoughts from her mind.
“What is wrong with me?”
The clock on her phone told her it was almost noon, and despite her body’s protests, she forced herself up into a sitting position. From there it was simply a matter of crawling over to the ladder and climbing down. With that done, Adagio was almost ready to face the day.
There was a knock at the door.
A quick glance through the peephole showed that was Aria who awaited her on the other side. Adagio suppressed the urge to ignore her (old habits, and all that), as she was more curious to see what it was Aria wanted. Had she finally come around on worrying about her midterms, and was only now coming to Adagio for help?
Adagio smirked. A little late, but it could be fun to see her panic. She opened the door.
“Where have you been?”
The question put Adagio immediately on the defensive. “Excuse me?”
“Where have you been?” repeated Aria. Her eyes bore into Adagio with an intensity Adagio hadn’t seen since their fight back in their first week at Crystal Prep.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” said Adagio, her eyes narrowing. Did Aria know something?
“Friday night,” said Aria, “where were you?”
“The library,” said Adagio. She had been at the library on Friday night, so it wasn’t technically a lie.
“What about Saturday?”
“Also, the library.” Again, not tech—
“Really?” asked Aria, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. “I didn’t realize they had beds in the library.”
“What did you just say?”
Aria didn’t respond. Instead, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a cellphone, holding it out before her so that Adagio could see what was on the screen.
What she saw made her heart freeze in place. It was a picture of Adagio, a fluffy mattress…
...and Twilight Sparkle.
“Where did you get that?” asked Adagio. She tried to snatch the phone away from Aria to get a better look, but the other girl kept it from her reach.
“That’s all you have to say?” asked Aria, her veneer of calm giving way to fury as her face twisted into a snarl. “I show you a picture of you sleeping with the enemy and all you can ask is where I got it?”
Adagio was taken off guard by Aria’s wording. “That’s not what that—”
Aria’s hand snapped forward with the phone, stopping a mere inches from Adagio’s face. “Literally! You were literally sleeping with the enemy!”
Adagio pushed Aria’s arm out of her face and glared at her. Aria continued.
“We were worried about you, you know. Not that it’s unusual for you to disappear these days, but after Sonata tried calling you a dozen times, we thought something might have happened.”
That was impossible, Adagio hadn’t received a single call from Sonata, and she’d had her phone on her all night! Realization hit her like a fully charged beam of Friendship Magic—she’d muted all incoming messages from Sonata, and that must have included phone calls.
“So we went to your room Saturday morning, even got up early enough to catch your roommate before she disappeared. She told us you didn’t come back that night. We checked the lab, you weren’t there, either—obviously—so we checked the rest of the school. Nothing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sonata so scared—not even when we first got banished to this wretched world.”
Aria looked down at the phone in her hand. “That’s when we got this.”
Adagio had to get this back under control. “You don’t understand, Aria, this is just part of—”
“—your plan?” asked Aria, cutting her off. “You’re right, I don’t understand. If this was part of your plan, then why hide it? Why not talk to us about it?”
“Because I knew you’d react like this!”
Aria laughed, but here was no mirth in the act. “You think that’s what this is about? Adagio, you lied to my face! I asked you where you were on Friday and you lied to me!”
“I didn’t lie!” snapped Adagio. “I was at the library, I just...”
Aria waited for her to finish.
“...left,” finished Adagio, lamely.
“Is that how little you think of us?” asked Aria. “That might work on humans, but I know you too well. Do you think we would have cared that your plan involved manipulating a Rainboom, or do you think we would have trusted that you knew what you were doing?
“No, of course not. What do you know about trust? This is all just one big game to you, and the rest of us are just the pieces that will get Adagio Dazzle to where she wants to go. You might be a Siren, but if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were a snake.”
“Watch it,” growled Adagio, but Aria didn’t stop.
“But you’re so good at playing this game, aren’t you, Adagio? I was ready to walk away last week, but you suckered me back in, didn’t you? Is that why you came to my basketball game? Not because you cared about me—let’s not be ridiculous!—but so you could use me as part of your plan?”
Adagio had had enough. “The only reason I went to your stupid game was because Sonata practically begged me. Does that make you feel better? I didn’t do it for you, and I didn’t do it for my plan. I did it to shut. Her. Up.”
The look Aria was giving her was beyond fury. No, this was a look one reserved only for only the most loathsome of enemies. This was pure hatred.
“I’m done with you.”
Aria turned around.
“We’ll see,” spat Adagio. “When I get our magic back—”
“Keep it,” said Aria. “You can have all the magic in the world—in both worlds—but it won’t be enough. You’re broken, Adagio, and if getting your magic back is what it takes to show you how empty you are inside, then I hope you drown in it.”
Aria turned her back on Adagio and walked away. The door swung shut behind her.
Twilight flinched away from Adagio’s outburst. The two of them sat facing one another across the table in their usual study room. After her confrontation with Aria, Adagio had spent several hours alone in her room stewing over the other girl’s words, replaying them over and over in her head as hurt and confusion boiled over into fury. So, when Twilight informed her that the catalyst to losing… whatever Aria was to her, was an accident, something inside her snapped.
One of Twilight’s hands reached out to touch Adagio’s in a calming gesture, but Adagio snatched hers away—she didn’t want to be calmed, what she wanted was answers. Specifically, answers involving how Aria had gotten her claws on a picture of her and Twilight Sparkle.
At first, the answer had seemed obvious: one of Twilight’s friends had sent it to her. Twilight had immediately rejected this theory—not only, she claimed, would her friends never do such a thing, none of them had any means of communicating with Aria... that she was aware of. Adagio wasn’t so sure about that; Rainbow Dash, for example, had been acting, well, if not nice, then at least tolerable that morning, which in itself was worthy of suspicion. But Twilight insisted on doing some digging of her own, and what she discovered was even worse than Adagio had imagined: there was no conspiracy against her, merely human error.
“How is that even possible?”
Twilight retracted her hand. “Does it really matter?”
“Yes,” said Adagio, emphatically. Twilight sighed.
“Okay, so, you remember yesterday, when I thanked Rarity for letting Shiney know we stayed over at Pinkie Pie’s?” Adagio nodded. “Well, apparently, she thought the best way of letting him know I was alright was to send him a picture, and considering we were already asleep at that point...”
Adagio’s eyes narrowed.
Twilight, reading Adagio’s mutinous expression, gave her a chastising look. “Like I told you before, she didn’t send it to anyone—not purposely, anyway. You see, she was posting some other pictures she took at the party online, and she was tired from all that studying so she wasn’t really paying attention so the picture just sort of… slipped through.”
Twilight averted her gaze as Adagio’s icy glare bore into her.
“It slipped through?”
Twilight nodded.
“Just like that?”
Another nod.
The legs of Adagio’s chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor as she stood up. She paced back and forth across the study room. Normally, the room’s small size made it feel cozy, but today it felt infuriatingly cramped and claustrophobic. She needed space to move—to think—but right now all she could think about was how the walls seemed to be closing in on her with each turn. Her breathing became rapid and uncontrolled and her heart began to pound in her ears like war drums. She wanted to hit something, but a little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that punching walls wasn’t healthy.
“Adagio!”
She whirled on Twilight, who was now standing as well. At some point Adagio’s hands had balled into fists, and with the way her shoulders lurched up and down with each breath, she must have looked like a wild animal trapped in a very small cage. She certainly felt like one.
“What?” she snapped.
“Let’s go for a walk,” said Twilight, calmly.
“No.”
“Yes,” insisted Twilight, “it will help you calm down.”
“I don’t need to calm down, I need to—”
She cut herself off. What did she need to do? She wanted to slap Rarity and scream at Aria (or possibly the other way around) but what did she need to do? What could she do?
“Please?” Twilight looked at her pleadingly, her expression a mixture of concern and... fear.
Fear, thought Adagio. Is she afraid of me?
Well, why wouldn’t she be? She was a monster, after all; a horrible Siren, lumbering around like some lunatic in a padded cell. Who wouldn’t be afraid? But even as these thoughts crossed her mind, Adagio could feel some of her fury being siphoned off, leaving behind a growing pool of shame. She might see herself as a monster, but did she really want Twilight to see her that way?
No, she told herself.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled.
“Fine,” she said.
“Good,” said Twilight. She crossed the small room to the door, then paused, looking back at the table overflowing with study materials. “Do you think it’s okay if we leave our stuff here? I mean, it’s not like there’s anything worth stealing, but...”
Adagio’s eye twitched.
“...right, I’m sure it’s fine. Let’s go.”
The two girls traversed the library in silence. Adagio followed a few steps behind Twilight, her eyes low and her hands stuffed moodily into the pockets of her hoodie. This lasted until they’d exited the library and descended its stone steps, where Twilight stopped and waited for her expectantly.
“What?” asked Adagio.
“It’s going to be hard to talk to you if you’re behind me.”
Adagio grunted. “I thought we were walking, not talking.”
“We’re doing both,” said Twilight. Adagio rolled her eyes, but nonetheless picked up her pace until the two of them were walking side by side.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“I already did,” said Adagio, not looking at Twilight.
“All you told me was that someone at Crystal Prep saw the picture. Was it, you know, one of them? One of the other...”
What hadn’t she said? She’d called Adagio a liar, a snake, untrusting, broken…
“She told me I was ‘sleeping with the enemy.’”
The sound of Twilight’s footsteps stopped, and Adagio couldn’t help but steal a glance back at her. Twilight’s cheeks were red, and Adagio didn’t think it was from the cold.
“That’s not—”
“I know,” said Adagio. Despite her best efforts, the corner of her mouth turned up in the tiniest hint of a smile.
“There, that’s better,” said Twilight, having regained her composure and wearing a smile of her own.
“What?”
“You’re smiling.”
Adagio scowled. “No I’m not.”
“But you were,” teased Twilight.
Adagio harrumphed and folded her arms, but even she could tell that her heart wasn’t in it.
But why wasn’t her heart in it? Five minutes ago the sky had been falling, but one little smile from Twilight later and everything felt… well, not good, but better. She felt lighter, as if her fight with Aria was just a little further away, even though nothing had changed.
“You know, I think this is the first time we’ve talked about them at all. I don’t even know their names.”
Adagio cocked an eyebrow. “You mean we’ve never come up in conversation with your friends? I find that hard to believe.”
“Only ever as a group—either ‘The Dazzlings’ or ‘the Sirens’—but never individually. Well, except for you, of course.”
“Of course,” said Adagio. She could only begin to imagine what sorts of things the Rainbooms said behind her back. “Their names are Sonata and...”
You’re broken, Adagio.
“...Aria.”
Just saying her name brought forth feelings of anger and guilt. The anger Adagio understood, but the guilt... it just didn’t make sense. The only mistake Adagio made was getting caught, but even that defense was flimsy. Getting caught implied she’d done something wrong, which she hadn’t. Working with Twilight was all part of the plan, and keeping it from the others had been to keep this exact thing from happening! It wasn’t her fault that Aria had flown off the handle, so why did she feel so bad?
Okay, so maybe Adagio said some things she shouldn’t have, but Aria deserved it! She attacked Adagio, wouldn’t listen to a word she said, and implied that Adagio only cared about herself. That was just untrue, Adagio cared about a lot of things: magic, revenge, Twilight…
Adagio grit her teeth. She was already confused enough, no need to add that into the mix right now.
“Adagio?” Twilight was looking at her expectantly, and Adagio realized she had been dwelling so hard on her own thoughts that she’d completely missed Twilight’s follow-up question.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked what they’re like.”
Adagio was puzzled. “Why?”
“Well, you’ve met my friends, so I just thought—”
“I told you, Twilight Sparkle, I don’t have friends—other friends,” she corrected.
“Alright,” said Twilight, “then what would you call them?”
Adagio was tempted to say ‘lackeys,’ but held her tongue. Twilight touched on a point she herself had pondered earlier: what were Aria and Sonata to her? The word ‘allies’ came to mind, but that felt impersonal given all the time they’d spent together (both in Equestria and this world). Besides, given Aria’s declaration that morning, Adagio thought ‘allies’ might no longer be accurate. What did one call a group who held together by the need to inflict unrest on everyone around them and their own mutual survival?
Villains?
“I don’t even know anymore.”
Twilight didn’t respond. Instead, she snaked an arm around one of Adagio’s own, pulling the two closer together and linking them at the elbow.
“Why’d you do that?” asked Adagio, though despite her surprise she didn’t pull away. Twilight was warm (if a little boney), her touch familiar and comforting.
“You looked like you needed it,” said Twilight.
They walked like that, arm-in-arm, for a while, neither of them speaking. Every now and then a gust of cold wind would batter them and, without thinking about it, Adagio would pull Twilight just a little bit closer. They circled the block, and as they once again approached the Canterlot Public Library, Twilight slowed to a stop in the shadow of one of the equine statues.
“Hang on,” she said, unhooking her arm from Adagio’s so the two could stand face to face. “Before we go back inside, there was something I wanted to ask you.”
Adagio eyed Twilight intently, waiting for elaboration, but all of a sudden it seemed Twilight had difficulty looking her in the eye.
“Is something wrong?”
“No!” exclaimed Twilight, meeting Adagio’s gaze only briefly before looking back down at her shoes. Another few seconds passed.
“Twilight—”
“Right, okay, so: things didn’t exactly go as planned on Friday.”
That was something of an understatement.
“So, I was thinking that this Friday—after exams are done, of course—we could try something of, you know, a do-over.”
“Another party?” groaned Adagio. Her head hurt just thinking about it. “I’m not sure if—”
“Not a party! I think I’m burned out on parties for a while… don’t tell Pinkie Pie. No, I was thinking that you could come over, maybe eat some junk food and watch a movie?”
“‘Come over,’ like, to your house?”
“Yes,” said Twilight.
“Just me?”
“Just you. And me.” She laughed nervously. “Obviously.”
“Okay,” said Adagio, so quickly that she almost surprised herself.
“Okay?” confirmed Twilight. “So you’ll come?”
“Yeah,” said Adagio. The little voice in the back of her mind warned her once again about getting closer to Twilight, but she ignored it. This was no different than agreeing to go to Pinkie Pie’s party had been, she assured herself, with the added benefit of not being stuck in a house filled with people she hated. Besides, getting closer to Twilight was an important aspect of the plan, and even if Aria couldn’t see how important that was, Adagio still did.
She had to.
“Great!” said Twilight, her trouble looking at Adagio having vanished as quickly (and inexplicably) as it had appeared. “It’ll be fun, we’ll celebrate the end of exams together!”
“Or mourn,” muttered Adagio, darkly.
“No, celebrate,” Twilight repeated. “You’re going to do great, Adagio, I know it.”
Adagio wished she had Twilight’s optimism. “We’ll see.”
“We will,” agreed Twilight.
The wind picked up once again, drawing shivers out of both girls and ushering the conversation toward its conclusion.
“Well, I’m cold, and there are a few last things that I’d like to go over while we still have time.” Twilight began the ascent up the stone steps, looking back over her shoulder at Adagio. “Are you ready?”
Adagio nodded. She was ready.
Adagio was not ready.
It was monday, and along with all the other students of Crystal Prep Academy, Adagio Dazzle was counting the seconds until 9:00 am, when the first of her midterm exams was set to begin.
It was torture.
The exams themselves were to be held in the gymnasium, which was to be kept on lockdown until fifteen minutes before the exam to prevent any attempts at cheating. As a result, the halls leading to the gym were absolutely packed with students. They lined the walls, leaning against lockers while going over flashcards, receiting complex mnemonics, or simply doing their best not to panic and forget everything at the last minute.
She could relate to the latter.
Adagio woke up at 5:03 that morning—twenty-seven minutes before her alarm was set to go off. She remembered the time because her first panicked thought was that she’d somehow overslept, only to feel like a complete fool when (after an embarrassing amount of desperate searching) she’d found her phone wrapped in her bedsheets and determined the truth.
It was nearly eight thirty now (8:27 to be exact) and Adagio had sequestered herself away in her lab. Splayed out before her on the wooden desk was a textbook and dozens of pages of notes, all dedicated to the subject of her first exam (math), as well as an bowl of instant oatmeal. She knew that it was important to eat before an exam—and she had tried!—but a familiar knot sat heavily in her stomach and her normally scarce appetite was practically nonexistent, so the oatmeal remained untouched.
The notes, too, weren’t getting much attention. It had been Adagio’s intention to get in some last minute revision before the exam, but that didn’t seem to be working, either. All the example problems she could find she’d already completed, and reading over strategies and formula was giving her a dizzying sense of déjà vu. This was probably a good thing, but she couldn’t shake the thought that she hadn’t actually learned the material so much as memorized it, which only added to her anxiety.
Anxiety. Adagio didn’t remember being anxious in Equestria. No, it wasn’t until she came to this world and had to worry about limited access to magic that she first felt the twinge of anxiousness, and that was nothing compared to after she’d lost her magic. Since then, it was harder to imagine a time that she wasn’t anxious—be it worrying about the future or second guessing her every decision. When had she become so weak? And, perhaps a more important question, if—no, when—she got her magic back, would she go back to normal?
She hoped so, otherwise wrapping up certain things in this world would be a lot more painful.
As if on cue, Adagio’s phone began to vibrate. It was undoubtedly Twilight, as only two people ever tried to call Adagio, and her alerts from Sonata were still suppressed. She had every intention of unmuting Sonata eventually… but not until after exams. The last thing she needed was another distraction, and Sonata was distracting in the worst possible way.
Twilight, on the other hand…
Adagio picked up the phone and pressed it to her ear.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” said Twilight. A brief moment passed in the wake of the words, which at this point had become almost more of a ritual than a greeting, before Twilight could wait no longer. “You’re not heading into the exam yet, are you? Cadance told me they wouldn’t be letting anyone into the gym yet but I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t—”
“No,” said Adagio, “I’m just doing some last minute cramming.”
“If you’re busy I can—”
“Twilight Sparkle, if I didn’t want to talk to you I wouldn’t have picked up the phone.”
“Right,” said Twilight, sheepishly, “sorry.”
“It’s fine,” said Adagio. “Honestly, I don’t think it’s going particularly well.”
“Nervous?” asked Twilight.
“No!” blurted Adagio, but after a few seconds she gave a resigned sigh. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
The line was silent.
“...Twilight Sparkle?”
“Sorry, sorry! I was nodding in a consoling ‘I-know-what-you-mean’ kind of way, but that doesn’t really come through very well on a phone call.” Twilight cleared her throat. “I know what you mean.”
Adagio laughed. “How do you know what I mean if I don’t know what I mean?”
“Let me guess: you feel like you’re going to walk into that exam room and forget everything, or there’s going to be some topic on there you’ve never seen before. Something like that, right?”
Adagio leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. “Are you a mind reader, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight chuckled. “No, not me. I’ve just been there before.”
Adagio rolled her eyes. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re… you!”
“And what does that mean?”
“You’re Twilight Sparkle,” said Adagio. She didn’t think this point needed to be clarified, but she did it anyway. “You’re brilliant, anyone who’s been in a room with you for five minutes knows that, and I’ve been in a room with you for far longer than that.”
“And you’re Adagio Dazzle,” countered Twilight, drawing a mirthless laugh from Adagio.
“So what?” That name might have meant something in Equestria, but here it was synonymous with failure.
“Adagio Dazzle is smart,”
Wrong.
“confident,”
Obviously not.
“and a great friend.”
…
“Look,” said Twilight, “I’m not telling you not to be nervous. I’m doing the opposite, actually.”
Adagio frowned at the ceiling tiles. “You’re telling me to be nervous?”
“No, I’m telling you it’s okay to be nervous. Everyone gets nervous before exams, including Twilight Sparkle.”
Adagio didn’t respond.
“But being nervous doesn’t mean you’re going to fail.”
“But—”
“No ‘buts’! You’ve worked harder in the past two weeks than most other students do in a whole semester. You’re going to do great. Now, we’ve still got a few minutes before you should head over to the exam room, and I just so happen to have some practice questions. Want me to quiz you?”
Adagio laid the phone down on the desk and tapped an icon resembling a speaker, projecting Twilight’s voice into the lab. It was a trick she’d only recently discovered and had been waiting for the opportunity to try, and now seemed like the perfect time. She grabbed a pencil and a blank piece of paper.
“You’re on, Twilight Sparkle.”
They only had time for a few questions, and Adagio was suspicious that Twilight was giving her simple ones to boost her confidence, but whatever the case, it was working. Adagio answered everything Twilight threw at her with ease.
“See?” asked Twilight, not bothering to hide the smugness in her tone. “What did I tell you? You—”
There was a knock at the door.
“Just a second!” called Adagio, setting down her pencil and standing up from her chair. She crossed the room and opened the door. She had expected Aria coming to taunt her, Sonata coming to bother her, or perhaps Principal Cinch coming to threaten her, but what she hadn’t expected was the smiling face of Dean Cadance.
“I thought you might be in here,” said Cadance. “So, are you ready?”
Before Adagio had an opportunity to respond, she heard Twilight’s voice coming from behind her. “Is that Cadance?”
“Hi, Twilight!” said Cadance, stepping past Adagio into the lab.
“Sure,” muttered Adagio, “come on in.”
“If you insist,” said Cadance, giving Adagio a playful smile before turning her attention back to the phone. “How is she, Twilight, is she nervous?”
Why did people keep asking her that? “I’m not—”
“Yeah,” interjected Twilight, “but it’s okay. She’s going to do great.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” said Cadance.
Adagio scowled and folded her arms. “Stop saying that,” she grumbled.
“What?” asked Cadance. “Afraid we’re going to jinx it?”
“No,” said Adagio. She was afraid failing.
“Well, anyway, I just thought I’d stop by and let you know I’m about to unlock the gym. If you hurry you can walk with me and be the first one inside.”
Part of her wanted to tell Cadance to go on ahead so she could a few more precious minutes before her reckoning, but she knew that was just being silly. It was time.
“Okay,” said Adagio. She glanced back over at the phone. “Can I just...”
Cadance nodded. “One minute,” she said, and slipped back out into the hall.
Adagio picked up her phone. “So, I guess this is it.”
“Yeah,” said Twilight. “Adagio, I—”
“Hang on,” said Adagio. She pulled the phone away from her ear and turned off the speaker, glad that Cadance wasn’t still there to see her blunder. “Sorry, go ahead.”
“I just wanted to tell you… good luck.”
“Thanks,” said Adagio.
“And call me the second you get out.”
Adagio rolled her eyes. “I will.”
The line was silent for a moment.
“...I already said good luck, now I’m not really sure what to say for goodbye.”
“Why not ‘goodbye’?”
“That’s too final! Besides, I’ve just said that, too. Ah, just give me a second.”
“Twilight Sparkle I’ve got to go.”
“Got it: break a leg!”
Adagio shook her head, unable to keep herself from smiling. “Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle, I’ll talk to you later.”
“I should have used tha—”
Adagio hung up. She set her phone down on the desk and collected her small assortment of pencils and erasers, along with a pencil sharpener, and placed them within a clear plastic bag. That was a suggestion of Twilght’s—easier than carrying around individual pencils and impossible for anyone to accuse you of cheating, she’d said. Adagio thought it looked a little silly, but here she was, doing it anyway.
Bag in hand she exited the lab, diligently locking the door behind her. Cadance smiled and motioned for her to follow, and the two of them made their way towards the gym.
“You know, it’s okay to be nervous.”
“Cadance, I just had this exact pep talk with Twilight Sparkle.”
“Okay, okay,” said Cadance, holding up her hands with her palms facing Adagio in a sign of submission, before a puzzled look come over her. “‘Twilight Sparkle?’”
Adagio cocked an eyebrow. “What?”
“Do you always call her by her full name?”
Adagio shrugged. “I guess.”
“You don’t call me by my full name.”
“I don’t even know your full name.”
“Mi Amore Cadenza,” announced Cadance. “Dean Mi Amore Cadenza, to you.”
Adagio stopped dead in her tracks. “You’re kidding.”
Cadance put her hands on her hips. “And just what do you mean by that?”
“What kind of name is that?”
Cadance put a hand over her mouth in mock outrage. “I beg your pardon!”
The two locked eyes for a moment, before breaking off in individual fits of giggles.
“But seriously,” said Adagio, after they had both regained their composure and resumed their walk, “Mi Amore Cadenza?”
Cadance sighed. “Why do you think I go by Cadance?”
They rounded a corner and began the final stretch unto the gym. Other students fell in behind them as they passed, forming solemn procession that better suited a graveyard than a school hallway. Adagio stuck close to Cadance, following her like a shadow so as not to get swept up by the growing crowd. She could feel her heart trying to climb its way into her throat, each second passing with agonizing slowness as Cadance fumbled with the keys to the wide set of double doors separating her from her destiny until, at last, they opened.
This is it, she thought as she crossed the threshold into the gymnasium. Do or die.
Abacus Cinch believed firmly in the merits of standardized testing.
There was no ambiguity in a standardized test, nothing to be misinterpreted or called into question. An answer was either right or it was wrong, and the score of any one student (or institution) could be compared directly with another to determine which of them came out on top.
Critics of the system complained that these sorts of tests were impersonal, that they encouraged a lack of diversity in the curriculum offered by the schools that implemented them, and that they did a disservice to students whose talents lay outside the bounds of regular academia.
This, of course, was utter nonsense.
The truth of the matter was that not every student was destined for academic greatness. This was not something that most parents enjoyed hearing about their precious children but, fortunately, Crystal Prep was a private academy, which meant most of the students who were unwilling or incapable of upholding the high standards demanded of them by the institution were never allowed to walk its halls in the first place.
But the weeding out of lesser minds did not end once one gained acceptance to the academy. Although it was rare, there were those who were accepted into Crystal Prep who simply did not conform to the school’s strict academic regiment and competitive atmosphere. Words like ‘stress’ and ‘anxiety’ were thrown around a lot these days, but these were the words of the weak. Crystal Prep’s immaculate reputation stood on the shoulders of its students, and if some found they could not bear the weight of that responsibility, Abacus Cinch had no qualms about sending them home. She took no pleasure in it, it was simply survival of the fittest.
The principal ruminated on these thoughts as she walked slowly and deliberately down one of the many aisles of desks that filled the gymnasium. All around her, students toiled away at their exams, filling the air with the scratching sound of hundreds of pencils all working simultaneously towards a common goal. Her scrutinizing gaze fell over each of them in turn, ensuring that none of them dared to test the sanctity of her exam room. They all knew what would happen should they be caught cheating, and though Principal Cinch could count on one hand the number of students who had dared to cheat during one of her exams, she would not allow herself to fall into complacency. Things were different this year, and she had to be on her guard.
The exam was already half over by the time she reached the desk of Adagio Dazzle. The girl was leaned over her paper, one hand scribbling furiously while the other served double duty in propping up her head and keeping her tides voluminous orange hair from obscuring her vision. She certainly seemed to be working hard, but she seemed to be a lot of things, and Abacus Cinch knew better.
For the first time since beginning her patrol, the principal stopped. Adagio Dazzle had not earned her place among the academic elite that surrounded her, nor did she conform to the standards their principal had set for them. She had proven herself to be impulsive and rebellious, two traits that in any other student would deliver unto them a swift exit from the hallowed halls of Crystal Prep Academy, and yet here she sat all the same.
No, the reason Adagio Dazzle was permitted to attend Crystal Prep had nothing to do with her academic aptitude (or disappointing lack thereof), nor could it be measured with a grade or standardized test. She was the antithesis of everything the school stood for but, at the same time, Abacus Cinch knew that her magic was the best tool to repair the damage the Friendship Games had caused to its reputation.
There were risks involved, of course. Introducing a chaotic element like Adagio into a closed system was bound to have repercussions. Insisting that Adagio succeed at her exams was a compromise the principal had allowed herself: if the girl could be made to learn, then she could be made to serve. She might not do it intentionally—in fact, Cinch had little doubt that Adagio had every intention to cross her eventually—but either way the girl would serve her purpose… and in some ways she already had.
Having lingered long enough, Abacus Cinch turned and continued her dutiful walk, drawing her eyes from Adagio Dazzle and onto the next of her numerous students. It would be an unfortunate turn of events if the girl failed now, but it would not be the end of the world. Adagio might have been the most promising of the so-called ‘Sirens’, but the principal was not above hedging her bets. In fact, as of the day before, one of these other ‘bets’ had proven itself to be surprisingly fruitful.
A smile crept onto the principal’s face, replacing her stoic demeanor with sinister intent. The game was already won—she was certain of it—all she had to do now was watch the pieces play it out.
It was almost hard to believe; Adagio Dazzle had spent the past two weeks preparing for them and the past five days living them. She’d awoken every morning in a panic that she’d overslept and missed one, and every night she’d checked her phone over and over again to ensure her alarm was set before lying in bed, dreading the next one and desperately wishing for sleep to take her just to start the whole process over again.
But now they were over and Adagio felt… exhausted? Elated? Giddy? Terrified? Her exact mood seemed to change by the minute but the most consistent feeling seemed to be relief. It was Friday—only hours after her final exam and still much too early to have any results back—and despite the fact that part of her wanted nothing more than to head back to her room and sleep until Monday, Adagio found herself on an unfamiliar bus on the way to Twilight Sparkle’s house.
The bus itself was actually very similar to the one Adagio took to the Canterlot Public Library—so similar, in fact, that if Adagio hadn’t triple checked the route number, she might be worried that she was going the wrong way.
Okay, so she was a little worried about getting off at the wrong stop, but that in itself was only stressing her out more. She’d been on a bus plenty of times—not this bus, said the nagging voice in the back of her mind—and had been in plenty of seedier places than Twilight Sparkle’s neighbourhood, which could only have been more idyllic if there had been a waterfall installed. But back then she’d at least had the tiny shreds of magic that she’d brought to this world and, more importantly, she hadn’t been alone.
Adagio scowled at her reflection in the window. If there was one good thing about the last week, it was that she’d been too preoccupied with exams to think too much about Aria. Adagio still hadn’t spoken to her since the morning of their confrontation, and although Sonata had twice come to her during the week to try to get the two girls to talk to one another (or even get them in the same room), both times Adagio had blown her off. She hadn’t had the time nor the energy to deal with them then, and now that she was free, she was instead going to see Twilight Sparkle.
No, thought Adagio. She wasn’t going to beat herself up over not forcing herself to interact with her fellow Sirens today. Didn’t she deserve the opportunity to go out and do something she actually wanted to do, rather than trying to cow Aria back into submission? Had she not earned a break?
Apparently not, as it was about that time that Adagio realized she’d missed her stop.
Cursing herself (but mostly Aria and Sonata for daring to linger in her thoughts), Adagio hauled frantically on the yellow cord, waiting impatiently as the bus continued for another block or two before lazily rolling up to the next stop. Adagio practically leapt from her seat, glaring at the baffled driver as she stormed past him and out the door.
Checking the directions on her phone, Adagio found that she now faced a fifteen minute walk to Twilight’s house, instead of the six or seven minutes it would have taken if she had actually bothered to pay attention. Not terrible, but it certainly didn’t help lift Adagio’s deteriorating spirits.
She waited for the bus to pull away before beginning her trek to Twilight’s house. Rationally, she knew that neither the driver nor any of the other passengers knew her destination, but waiting until all potential eyes were off her before walking in the exact opposite direction than the bus was going did a little to protect her already wounded pride.
She moved at a brisk pace, eyeing the grey clouds that hung ominously overhead with suspicion. She’d overheard someone on the bus saying that it wasn’t actually supposed to rain until the next day but, unlike in Equestria, forecasts in this world were notoriously unreliable, and so she prepared herself to run at the first sign of rain.
But she never had to. A quarter of an hour later Adagio arrived at the Sparkle residence dry and otherwise unmolested. The house itself was no different than the last time she saw it, only this time she recognized both cars in the driveway: one of which belonged (unsurprisingly) to Shining Armor, and the other which belonged to Dean Cadance.
So, Cadance was there. That was fine. Adagio was pretty sure Twilight had mentioned something about it just being the two of them, but this was good, too.
Adagio was just a few steps away from the door when she stopped. She felt a strange sensation—a mixture of relief and disappointment that, until that moment, she hadn’t know was even possible. What was wrong with her? Adagio liked Cadance. Adagio liked Twilight. Cadance and Twilight were in the same place, and as such, Adagio should be happy. And she was happy! And yet…
She shook her head. The longer she stood out here like an idiot trying to parse her feelings, the more likely it was that someone would glance out a window and spot her. So, ignoring her new feelings in the hope that they would go away, Adagio pushed on, closing the last few feet between her and the door and ringing the doorbell before her mind came up with another reason not to.
“I’ve got it!”
Adagio heard the muffled sound of Twilight’s voice, followed by a cacophony of rapid footsteps. The door swung open, revealing the smiling (and slightly winded) form of Twilight Sparkle. Adagio was just opening her mouth to greet her, when a blur of purple and green darted between Twilight’s legs and threw itself against Adagio’s legs.
“Hi, Adagio!”
Spike stood on his hind legs with his front paws braced against Adagio’s knees, beaming up at Adagio as his tail wagged happily behind him.
“Spike! What did I say about jumping up on people?” She gave spike a chastising look, before turning back to Adagio. “Sorry about that,” she said, sheepishly.
“It’s fine,” said Adagio, and for a few long seconds no more words passed between the two girls.
“So… are you going to invite me in?”
“Right—yes, obviously!” Twilight stepped aside, waving her arm in a welcoming motion and turning her head in an obvious (and unsuccessful) attempt to hide her embarrassment. “Er, come on in!”
Adagio couldn’t help but smile and roll her eyes, before following Twilight inside.
“Adagio!”
Cadance and Shining Armor stood a little ways down the hall, and to Adagio’s surprise they were both extravagantly dressed. Shining Armor wore a suit that was fitted too well to not be tailored, and Cadance was wearing a formal yet still stylish dress.
“Hi Cadance, Shining Armor,” said Adagio. “You two look...”
Cadance put her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes but retaining her playful smile. “Choose your next words wisely.”
“I was going to say ‘good.’”
Cadance nodded in approval. “Right answer. Shining Armor and I are going out to dinner to celebrate the end of exams.”
Adagio cocked an eyebrow. “Why are you celebrating? You didn’t even have to write them.”
Twilight and Shining Armor let out simultaneous groans as Cadance launched into a well rehearsed response.
“I’ll have you know that exam season puts stress not only on students, but on educators as well. People don’t appreciate the amount of work that goes into executing a weeks worth of tests for multiple subjects and grade levels. Furthermore—”
“Okay, okay!” said Adagio, holding up her hands. “I get it!”
Cadance wore a triumphant smirk, and Twilight and Shining Armor shared looks of relief.
“Anyway, speaking of exams...” Cadance trailed off, giving Adagio a probing look.
“No,” said Adagio.
“Come on,” insisted Cadance, “please?”
Adagio sighed. “Do I have to?”
“No, but if you don’t tell me how you did I’m just going to get it out of Twilight later.”
Both of them turned their attention on Twilight, who suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights.
“W-what?” she stammered.
“Please, are you telling me you didn’t make her text you the moment she finished her exams?”
“I...” Twilight looked desperately at Adagio. “I wouldn’t—I mean—not if you didn’t want me to...”
Another sigh. As much as Adagio did not want to talk about her exams, not talking about them was quickly becoming more tedious than just getting it over with. Besides, while she had faith that Twilight wouldn’t immediately cave to Cadance’s interrogation, she was also fairly confident that keeping that information from her might cause Twilight to quite literally explode.
“Fine,” said Adagio. “They were… fine. Good, I guess, I don’t know. I haven’t exactly taken a lot of exams.”
The last part had just slipped out, but if Cadance had picked up on what Adagio had accidentally alluded to, she didn’t show it.
“Good! I’m sure you did great—you’re smart, and Twilight’s been raving about you for weeks, so—”
“Cadance!” whined Twilight, whose cheeks had taken on a shade of pink that matched Cadance’s hair.
“Honey,” said Shining armor, nudging Cadance with his elbow. “Our reservation?”
“Right, right,” said Cadance. The two pairs traded places in the hallway, with Adagio and Twilight venturing further into the house and Cadance and Shining Armor moving to the door.
“Alright, you two,” said Shining Armor as he pulled on his jacket. “Be good, and if anything happens, text me, okay?”
“We’re not kids, Shiney,” said Twilight. She shared a hug with her brother and then with Cadance, before the sound of a car horn blared outside.
“There’s our cab,” said Cadance. She grabbed her purse and the two of them shuffled out the front door. “Have fun, girls!”
“We will!” called Twilight, waving and closing the door after them, before turning around and facing Adagio, who had been lingering in the hall. For a moment, neither of them said anything.
“Hi,” said Twilight, breaking the silence.
Adagio smiled. “Hi.”
“I suppose I should probably show you around, huh?”
Adagio had never been in a house quite like Twilight Sparkle’s.
This on its own wasn’t saying much—Adagio had been in very few actual houses, having lived primarily in dorms, hotels, and apartments since her arrival in this world—but even compared to Pinkie Pie’s house, something felt… different. The walls were lined with pictures, most of them proudly displaying the smiling faces of Twilight, Shining Armor, and an older couple that Adagio quickly deduced to be Twilight’s parents. There were even more than a few pictures of Cadance back from when she and Shining Armor had attended Crystal Prep, and of Twilight when she was just a baby.
But it wasn’t just the pictures. Shelves were packed with assorted knick knacks, souvenirs from exotic locales, gadgets whose purpose Adagio couldn’t begin to fathom, and a plethora of trophies dedicated to everything from academic excellence (which undoubtedly belonged to Twilight), physical prowess (Shining Armor) and, of all things, bingo. The house was so filled with things that, despite its large size, it felt very full and lived in—not at all like the vacant apartments to which Adagio was accustomed.
It was like stepping into another world (an experience Adagio was somewhat familiar with), and made Adagio question just how much she truly knew about Twilight Sparkle. She felt like an intruder creeping around somewhere they didn’t belong and yet, at the same time, it had been Twilight that had invited her here. Clearly Twilight wanted to share this part of her life with her, but what exactly did that mean? And, perhaps more importantly, why?
There wasn’t a lot of time to ponder these questions before Twilight concluded their tour.
“...and here we are, back in the kitchen. Sorry about not showing you my room, like I said, it’s kind of a mess.”
Adagio shrugged. Although she was unusually tempted to take a peek into that particular aspect of Twilight’s life, she hadn’t pressed the issue.
“Anyway,” continued Twilight, “I was thinking about ordering a pizza, and after that we could watch a movie or something. Does that sound alright to you?”
Adagio nodded.
Twilight bit her lip, a look of poorly disguised concern crossing her face. She fumbled with the hem of her skirt for a moment, before collecting herself.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
Adagio, who had been about to ask the same question, was taken aback. “What?”
“You were being quiet!” blurted Twilight. “I mean, you’re allowed to be quiet—it’s not like there’s a rule saying you have to talk or anything—I just wanted to make sure I didn’t say anything, you know, weird.” She paused. “Was that weird?”
“Yes,” admitted Adagio, “but in a good way.”
“A good way?” asked Twilight.
“Yeah,” said Adagio.
“So you’re okay?”
“I’m okay.”
“Okay!” Twilight clapped her hands together. “I’m going to go get my laptop so we can order that pizza. You can take a seat over at the table, if you’d like.”
With that, Twilight darted off into the hall, leaving Adagio alone in the kitchen. She made her way over to the table, only to be confronted by yet another picture hanging on the wall. This time it was of Twilight’s parents engaged in an activity Adagio knew to be called ‘skydiving,’ although why anyone without the ability to fly would willingly hurl themselves from a great height continued to baffle her.
“Got it!”
Twilight sat down across from Adagio and opened up the laptop. It reminded Adagio of their study sessions, although the table was larger and not covered in books, and the room itself was much more spacious.
“Twilight Sparkle,” asked Adagio, the thought of the picture still on her mind, “where are your parents?”
Twilight’s eyes looked up from the screen. “My mom dragged my dad on another trip down south, this time I think it was to go scuba diving with sharks, or something. They love doing that sort of thing, especially now that Shiney and I are old enough that they don’t have to hire a babysitter or call our grandparents.” Twilight thought for a moment, then her face grew pale. “Why, you weren’t expecting to meet them, were you?”
“No, I was just—”
“Because I can call them if you want, I don’t think it’s too late down there—”
“Twilight Sparkle!” Adagio’s firm tone managed to shock Twilight out of her jabbering. “Are you okay?”
Twilight looked thoughtful for a moment before lowering her face into one of her hands and beginning to laugh. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m just a little nervous.”
Adagio smirked. “Yes, it must be quite nerve wracking to have Adagio Dazzle all to yourself.”
“It is!”
“I was joking.”
“I wasn’t. It’s a big deal having someone over for the first time!” She gave Adagio an earnest smile. “Especially when it’s you.”
Now it was Adagio’s turn to blush. She averted her gaze, fixing her eyes on a particularly uninteresting section of the wall. “We see each other practically every day.”
“Not this week,” countered Twilight. She was correct, of course. Adagio hadn’t seen Twilight since their Sunday study session, and although they’d texted and spoken on the phone, that wasn’t the same as actually being in the same room. It was difficult to admit (even just to herself), but Adagio had missed her time with Twilight.
“Okay, not this week,” conceded Adagio. “But you don’t have to try so hard. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re right,” said Twilight, “and thanks.”
The rapid-fire sound of Twilight’s fingers on her keyboard filled the room. There was something oddly relaxing about the rhythmic nature of the keystrokes, and Adagio found herself having to consciously keep her eyelids from drooping.
“Anything in particular you want on the pizza?”
“Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Anything you don’t want?”
Adagio shook her head.
“Okay,” said Twilight. A few more taps on the keyboard later, Twilight closed the laptop and focused her attention on Adagio. “I ordered a vegetarian pizza. It’s what the girls and I usually order, because Sunset and Fluttershy don’t eat meat. Do you, um…?”
“...Eat meat?”
Twilight nodded.
“I do. It was no less strange to me than eating any other food in this world, and to be honest it’s probably closer to my Equestrian diet, anyway.”
Across the table, Twilight wore an expression of rapt attention, and immediately Adagio understood why.
“Twilight Sparkle, it is rude to study your guests.”
“Sorry!” squeaked Twilight, sinking down into her chair. “I just find it interesting that you identify with carnivores, when feeding on conflict seems almost more parasitic in nature and—”
“Did you just refer to me as a parasite?” asked Adagio in an icy tone.
Twilight froze. “I, uh...” She glanced around nervously, all the while tugging at her collar. “Wow, that pizza sure is taking a while, right?”
Adagio folded her arms.
“Right?” Twilight Sparkle put on a big, forced grin, which somehow managed to come across as both incredibly desperate and hopelessly endearing in the dorky way that only Twilight could pull off.
Unable to stay mad (though she was never really mad in the first place), Adagio rewarded Twilight’s efforts with a smile of her own.
“So, at the risk of falling into another social pitfall, how do you feel now that exams are over and done with?”
Adagio considered this for a moment. “The closest thing I can relate it to is how I felt after I was blasted with Friendship Magic, but before I realized my life fell apart.”
Twilight gave her a blank look.
“In human terms I’d liken it to being hit by a big, glowing truck.”
“Thanks,” said Twilight, flatly. “But really, that’s it?”
“Of course not,” said Adagio. “I’m glad they’re over, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to relax until I get the results back. Right now I just sort of feel...” She took another look at the skydiving photo. “...powerless. I don’t like it.”
With her attention averted, Adagio didn’t notice Twilight reach her hand across the table until it was already intertwined with her own. With her arms crossed she could have easily resisted the gesture, but instead she allowed Twilight to pull her hand free and guide it to the center of the table where the two remained interlaced.
Adagio had missed this most of all. There was just something about Twilight’s touch—about her lithe, delicate fingers, warm and soft… it just filled her with the primal and inexplicable desire to hold them and not to let go. Was this just another part of being human? A symptom of the friendship that she had unwittingly contracted? Or was it something else, something that Adagio felt but was not quite ready to name?
It didn’t matter. Wordlessly, Twilight Sparkle had taken the worries that still weighed heavily on Adagio’s mind and banished them to its recesses. She could have stayed in that comfortable silence for hours, but it was not to be. The end was heralded by the ringing of a bell.
A doorbell, to be precise.
“That’s the pizza,” said Twilight. Gently, and with great reluctance, she withdrew her hand from Adagio’s and stood up, before disappearing once more into the hallway.
Adagio felt somewhat disgruntled at the inopportune arrival of the delivery person, but this lasted only until Twilight returned to the kitchen, pizza boxes in hand, and the greasy yet tantalizing aroma of her cargo reached Adagio’s nose, at which point she realized she was famished.
When was the last time she’d eaten an actual meal? She couldn’t recall. Adagio didn’t eat much at the best of times, and the week of exams had only exacerbated this habit. But that was all about to change: Adagio was ready to eat one, perhaps even two slices of pizza.
And so she did. The pizza itself was fairly unremarkable, but Adagio was too hungry to care. While they ate, Twilight broached the subject of what movie they would watch that evening and, upon learning that the list of movies Adagio had seen was next to nonexistent, the girl had become giddy trying to decide which cinema classic to show her first.
Her excitement was impossibly cute, but Adagio struggled to keep up with her enthusiasm. It wasn’t that Adagio didn’t care what movie they watched (okay, it wasn’t just that), it was more like she had just ticked a box labeled ‘eat’ on some internal checklist, and next up was one labeled ‘sleep.’ But Adagio had no intention of disappointing Twilight Sparkle by going home early—she had gone a whole week on minimal food, how hard could it be to go another couple hours without sleep?
After they’d finished their food and Twilight had finally settled on a movie, the pair migrated to Twilight’s living room. The television was large—not the largest Adagio had ever seen, but close—and was mounted to the wall across from a large, L-shaped sofa that took up a significant portion of the room. Twilight sat down first, patting the spot next to her which Adagio wasted no time filling.
“Oh, this is so wrong!”
Twilight gave her a baffled look. “I’m sorry?”
“You should be,” pouted Adagio. “Your couch is more comfortable than my bed.”
It was true. Until that moment, Adagio hadn’t had any complaints about her bed in the Crystal Prep dormitory, but now…
Twilight laughed. “If you like that, you should try my bed. Not trying to brag, but it’s the best.”
“Twilight Sparkle, did you just invite me into your bed?” asked Adagio with a coy, teasing smile.
“I didn’t—I was just—oh, would you look at that, the movie’s starting!”
The opening credits had just begun when another wave of exhaustion struck Adagio. It didn’t really matter what studio produced the movie, did it? Surely Twilight wouldn’t mind if she rested her eyes, just for a minute before the movie actually started, then she’d have the energy to get through the rest of the movie.
Just one minute, thought Adagio. It was the last thing that crossed her mind as she closed her eyes.
Adagio awoke to darkness.
Her mind kicked into gear with agonizing slowness, and she began to piece together where she was and what she was doing there. She could see a lonely red light staring at her from the base of the television, it was the only source of light in the room and not nearly enough to allow Adagio to pick anything else out of the inky blackness that surrounded her.
But where her vision failed her, her other senses did not. Her position had shifted in her sleep, no longer was she sitting upright, but lying horizontally across the couch. Her head rested on what could only be Twilight’s lap, as she could feel the heat coming off of her and hear the steady sound of her breathing. One of Twilight’s hands rested on Adago’s side, her thumb drifting back and forth in a motion that brought tingles to her spine. Obviously she had fallen asleep on Twilight, and though her sleep addled mind urged her to close her eyes and drift off once more within Twilight’s half embrace, she instead forced herself to sit up.
“Hi,” said Twilight, removing her hand from Adagio’s side and slightly adjusting her position.
“Hi,” replied Adagio, finding herself once more in a sitting position. “Guess I fell asleep, huh?”
“Yeah,” said Twilight.
“Sorry about that.” Adagio fumbled around in her pockets until she managed to locate her phone. The light from its screen was blinding, and she was forced to squint before she was finally able to check the time.
It was late. Very late.
Adagio groaned and rubbed her eyes, but her mind still felt sluggish and hazy. Next to her, Twilight reached over the edge of the seat and turned on a lamp, illuminating the room with a warm light. Adagio stood up, wobbled a little, and held out her arms to steady herself.
“Easy there,” said Twilight, rising and placing a steadying hand on Adagio’s shoulder. “You were really out.”
“Sorry,” repeated Adagio.
“Don’t be. You more than earned that nap.”
Now that her eyes had more or less adjusted to the light, Adagio checked her phone to see if any of the busses that could bring her back to Crystal Prep were still running.
“No such luck,” she muttered. “Guess I’m walking back.”
Twilight’s grip on her shoulder tightened. “Adagio, it would take over an hour for you to walk back to Crystal Prep from here. Besides, it’s past midnight and I don’t like the idea of you walking alone in the dark.”
Adagio didn’t like it either, but there didn’t seem to be another option. She didn’t have enough money on her to afford a cab (or at all, if she was being honest), and Principal Cinch would probably have something to say if she got a complaint that one of her students bailed on paying their fare.
“Well, unless you have a better suggestion...”
“Actually, since you’re already here...” Twilight shifted her weight nervously. “...I was thinking maybe you could, you know, stay.”
Adagio blinked.
“I mean, it’s not like it’s without precedent! We both stayed over at Pinkie Pie’s, though, admittedly that was sort of impromptu, but this is also kind of impromptu in a more premeditated sort of way—not to imply that I planned it out in advance! I just mean that since we’re discussing it now instead of just falling asleep—although, you did just fall asleep, but I don’t think that’s...”
“Okay,” said Adagio.
“O-okay?” asked Twilight. “‘Okay’ you’ll stay? Or ‘okay’—”
“I’ll stay.”
The words had just come out. She didn’t think about them because she didn’t need to. This was what she wanted, and though a million dissenting voices cried out in her brain in desperate attempts to change her mind, she ignored them. She wanted to stay.
“Yes!” exclaimed Twilight. Her expression quickly morphed from excitement to embarrassment under Adagio’s gaze then, after the passing of a few more seconds, to horror.
“I need to clean my room,” she said in barely more than a whisper.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!” squeaked Twilight. “I’ll be right back, just give me, like, five minutes. Don’t fall asleep!”
With that, Twilight vanished into the hallway, once again leaving Adagio alone with her thoughts.
There was nothing wrong with staying over at Twilight’s. Sure, last time she and Twilight had shared a room it had been at the cost of Twilight’s relationship with Timber and Adagio’s… association with Aria, but that didn’t mean there was anything to worry about! Besides, this time was different, there was no party going on outside and no one to snap an out of context photo of them while they slept. They were completely and totally alone.
“So, you’re staying over, huh?”
The sound of Spike’s voice behind her nearly made Adagio jump out of her skin. She whirled around to face him, placing her hands sternly on her hips.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t,” said Adagio. She wasn’t frightened, just surprised. Of course they weren’t alone, Spike was there! He’d been there at Pinkie Pie’s, too, Adagio reminded herself, though she wasn’t really sure why she felt the need to justify any of this to herself. She also wasn’t sure why the strange feeling of relief-disappointment had suddenly made its return, although she did her best to dismiss it.
“And yeah, I am staying over.”
“Interesting,” said Spike.
Adagio raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. “Why is that interesting?”
“Oh, did I say interesting? I meant not interesting, you know, because Twilight has sleepovers all the time.”
“Does she now?” asked Adagio.
“Oh yeah,” said Spike, his tone laced with an infuriating smugness. “I mean, sure, usually she has a few of her friends over, and usually either her parents or brother are here, but that doesn’t make this unusual.”
“That is literally the definition of unusual.”
“Huh, so it is.”
Adagio’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure what game Spike was playing, but she didn’t like it. “What are you implying?”
“Nothing,” said Spike, “just making small talk. What about you, do you have a lot of sleepovers?”
“I live in a dorm with my roommate,” said Adagio.
Not only did she live in a dorm with Sugarcoat, before that she’d spent almost every moment in the presence of the other Sirens. She’d shared a bed with them plenty of times (though admittedly she had sometimes made one or both of them sleep on the floor), so there was nothing at all strange or out of the ordinary about staying here with Twilight.
Nothing at all.
It was just a completely ordinary thing that people did, so if the butterflies that now inhabited her stomach could kindly go back to wherever they’d come from, that would be great.
Before Spike had the opportunity to say anything further, Twilight returned to the living room.
“Okay, I cleaned up, but if you could avoid looking under the bed, that would be—” she cut herself off when she noticed that Spike and Adagio had been conversing. “What were you two talking about?”
“Nothing,” said Spike, in the same smarmy tone he’d taken with Adagio.
“Adagio?”
“Actually nothing,” said Adagio. “I don’t know why your dog is talking like that.”
“Spike!” hissed Twilight, shooting him a desperate look.
“What?” said Spike. “We were just talking about sleepovers. I didn’t say anything about—”
“Okay, my room, let’s go!”
Twilight lead the way to her room, practically frog marching Adagio down the hallway until they reached the door. She placed her hand on the knob, hesitated for a moment, and opened it.
The room was like nothing Adagio had ever seen before. It was large, over twice as big as Adagio’s dorm room, and every inch of it screamed Twilight Sparkle. On one end was a set of shelves that were absolutely packed with books, and between them sat a little nook with a telescope pointed out a window at the night sky. There was an aquarium (Adagio wondered if Twilight’s fish could talk, too), a computer with two monitors, yet another bookshelf, and so many more awards and trophies that Adagio realized those in the hall must have been surplus.
On the other side of the room there was a set of equipment that Adagio recognized from her own lab at Crystal Prep, more books, a full length mirror, and a large bean bag chair that looked both incredibly comfortable and horrendously difficult to escape from. Posters and photographs plastered the walls, in some places even making it onto the ceiling which was sloped upwards and painted with a series of large, branching spirals.
Twilight’s bed dominated the center of the room, and though she had clearly done an immaculate job ensuring that the duvet and matching pillows looked impeccable, Adagio couldn’t help but notice a sleeve from what must have been laundry sticking out from beneath it. There was a dresser beside the bed and at its foot was an elevated spot with a dog bed for spike. Overhead loomed an impressive (though inaccurate) model of the solar system featuring dangling stars and planets all circling a bulbous sun. Finally, behind the bed, was a circular window whose glass was stained with the shape of a flower. It was difficult to see at night, but Adagio was certain that, come the morning, it would look spectacular.
“So, what do you think?”
Adagio realized her mouth had fallen agape and quickly snapped it shut. She cleared her throat.
“It beats my dorm, that’s for sure.”
Twilight smiled. “I’m going to go brush my teeth. You can grab a pair of pajamas from the dresser, if you want. Top drawer.”
Though Adagio typically slept in just a t-shirt, the thought of doing so in front of Twilight made her extremely self conscious, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. As a Siren in Equestria, the very idea of clothes was absurd, but in this world she couldn’t imagine being seen without them.
No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that she couldn’t imagine it, it was that imagining it made her want to curl up into a ball and die.
Perhaps banishment had cursed her with modesty, or perhaps it was human society rubbing off on her, but whatever the case, Adagio was eager to take Twilight up on her offer. She approached the dresser, and true to Twilight’s word, several pairs of pajamas sat neatly folded inside. She grabbed one at random, a blue pair decorated with Twilight’s signature starburst, and closed the drawer, before the items sitting on top of the dresser caught her eye.
In addition to a rather mundane lamp, there were a pair of closed boxes. Perhaps it was her exhaustion allowing curiosity to overcome her better judgement, but Adagio felt the irresistable urge to peek inside. She could hear the sound of running water from down the hall, and a quick glance around the room confirmed that Spike was out of her line of sight. Twilight Sparkle had only told her not to look under the bed, so even if she was caught, she wasn’t really doing anything wrong, was she?
Of course she was, but she didn’t care. The first box was ornately shaped and had a hinge on the back, which Adagio predicted would be a jewelry box. Opening it proved this theory to be correct, and Adagio was greeted with the sight of a small assortment of necklaces, earrings, and hair pins, most of which she’d never seen her wear. Did Twilight Sparkle even have her ears pierced? Adagio made a mental note to check as she closed the first box and moved on to the second.
This box was more traditional, rectangular in shape and opening from the top. Adagio reasoned with herself that there was unlikely to be anything scandalous sitting in a box on Twilight Sparkle’s bedside, but she’d already started snooping so she might as well see her little crime through to the end. Popping the box open, Adagio discovered that it only contained a single object. It was circular, about the size of two of her fists held together, and had a reflective surface with lines radiating out from its center and a purple trim. One side had a clasp like a locket, and the other had a hinge and a little loop where one could, theoretically, attach a string.
Adagio froze. Her heart skipped a beat and, for a moment, she honestly believed she’d died and this was all some sort of deathbed hallucination. She’d seen an object like this before—not physically of course, but given the amount of studying she’d done of the notes in Twilight’s lab, it was impossible not to recognize the final product from the sketches and blueprints. She reached into the box, her hand trembling, and withdrew it.
Twilight Sparkle’s amulet—the key to getting back her magic—was in her hands.
Part of her wanted to laugh, while another part wanted to throw up. She’d spent weeks trying desperately to avoid getting kicked out of Crystal Prep for a mere chance of recreating it, when it had been here all along! Visions of greatness danced through her head, the look on Aria’s face when she saw it, the look on Principal Cinch’s face when she took her revenge…
“Oh, you found it.”
Adagio whirled around. She’d been so caught up with her imagination that she hadn’t noticed Twilight’s return. She felt like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar (or a criminal holding a stolen gun), and though she should have come up with some sort of lie or excuse, her mind could only form a single word.
“How?”
Twilight looked at her with confusion. “What do you mean?”
“How… is this here? I thought it was destroyed!”
Adagio felt a surge of panic. It hadn’t been Twilight who’d told her the device was destroyed, it had been Cinch. Suddenly it all felt like a tangled web of information: the words of Twilight, Cinch, and Sugarcoat all melding together. What was Adagio supposed to know about? What was she going to do if Twilight saw through her now?
But her worrying was for not. If Twilight had noticed the slip (or if there was a slip at all) she didn’t show it. Instead, she reached out and gently placed her hands on the amulet, taking it from Adagio’s hands into her own.
It took every ounce of strength Adagio had not to rip it out of her hands.
“It wasn’t destroyed. Broken, yes, but not beyond repair.” Twilight stared at her reflection in the amulet’s surface. “So I fixed it.”
It was Adagio’s turn to be confused. “Why?”
“It was the pinnacle of my research. I poured uncountable hours into theorizing and designing it. It was my magnum opus.” She sighed. “And my greatest failure. I almost lost everything because of this—because I let my ambition get the better of me. When I look at it, I think about all the destruction I could have caused, all the lives I could have ruined, and how unhappy I was… and how much I’ve changed.”
“But if it’s so dangerous, why keep it?”
Twilight looked from the amulet back to Adagio. “Because it doesn’t work.”
Adagio felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt. “I thought you said you fixed it?”
“I did,” said Twilight, “mostly.” She opened the clasp at the bottom of the amulet, which sprung open revealing the interior where magic would have been stored. She wedged one of her fingernails into a divot and pried open a panel, revealing the device’s inner workings.
“Most of the hardware is just mundane circuitry, but in order to locate and attract magic, there was something missing—something I couldn’t find in this world.” She held up the amulet, allowing Adagio to see inside. Nestled deep within, held in place by dozens of tiny electrodes, was the broken shard of a gemstone.
A very familiar gemstone.
Adagio’s jaw dropped. “That’s—”
Twilight nodded. “I didn’t know where they came from at the time, and to be honest I didn’t care. Of all the shards I was able to recover after Canterlot High’s Battle of the Bands, this was the only one that worked. The others were too small and simply burned out… and in the end this one did, too.”
The shard, once red and translucent, was now blackened and cracked. This was worse than when it was simply broken: the magic had been sucked out of the shard until naught but a husk remained. It made Adagio sick to look at and and was quick to avert her eyes.
“Sorry,” said Twilight, snapping the amulet shut. “That was the last piece. Even if I wanted to fix it completely, I couldn’t—no one could. Now it’s just a memento, a reminder of the day my whole world changed.”
Adagio didn’t say anything. She touched her hand to her neckline where, beneath the fabric of her hoodie and attached to a little chain Sugarcoat had give her, rested the real last shard of the Siren’s amulets. Like Twilight, she had held on to it as a reminder of what she’d lost, but now…
“I should have told you this before,” said Twilight. “I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up—’hey, my broken-magic-amulet used to be powered by a piece of your broken-magic-amulet.’ It’s just not something that comes up in conversation. But when I met you and I found out what you were, it felt like there was… I don’t know, a connection between us. Like we were supposed to meet, bound together by magic itself.”
She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I know that sounds stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” said Adagio. What was it, if not fate? Since they first met, Adagio had always felt drawn to Twilight. She wasn’t sure why at first, and recently she’d thought that maybe… well, it didn’t matter. What if this was the answer to everything? The universe had brought her to Twilight, pulled her in close enough that Adagio could embrace her true destiny, if only she had the conviction to take it. This was it!
“Thanks,” said Twilight. “Anyway, there’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom, I put it next to the sink.” She stepped past Adagio, returning the amulet to its place in the box, and closed the lid.
Adagio felt like she was moving on autopilot. She made her way to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her before turning on the tap. But she didn’t pick up the toothbrush, instead she stared into the mirror behind the sink, transfixed by her own reflection.
She was so close. She could take the amulet, steal away while Twilight slept and replace the shard within with the one around her neck. From there it would be easy, and yet…
Adagio shook her head. She was being stupid—this might not have been the plan, but why did that matter? Why, standing on the precipice of her return to glory, was she so afraid?
The answer came easily. It was because of Twilight.
She’d always known she would hurt Twilight. She couldn’t have both, her friendship with Twilight and the return of her magic were mutually exclusive. One could not exist alongside the other, and it had always been the plan to make use of Twilight then, when she ceased to be useful, to discard her.
You’re broken, Adagio.
Adagio’s hands balled into fists. Why did it have to happen now? Twilight had invited her into her home, why? To be stabbed in the back? Maybe Aria was right—she was a snake, after all, and it was a snake’s nature to bite.
“I don’t want to do this.”
She jammed her eyes shut. What was she saying? If she didn’t take this chance, it could be months—maybe even years—before she could build a copy of the amulet herself, if she was even capable of such a feat! Would Twilight even still want her in her life at that point?
Of course she would. Twilight had said it herself—they were bound together. But if Adagio stayed, if she allowed her bond with Twilight to grow even greater than it was now… would she ever be able to bring herself to break it?
She already knew the answer.
So, this was it. Adagio had to choose between the restoration of her magic, and her life with Twilight Sparkle. It shouldn’t have been a hard choice—her destiny was on the line, after all—but the more she considered it, the more her heart ached. This was her punishment for indulging herself with fantasies of friendship, but without that fantasy she never would have had this opportunity in the first place.
Why did she have to make this choice? Why did she open that stupid box?
Adagio picked up the toothbrush. She was taking too long—it wouldn’t matter what she decided if Twilight caught on to her plan. She brushed her teeth quickly and wasted no more time changing into the pajamas Twilight had given her, before exiting the bathroom more confused and anxious than when she’d entered it.
She returned to Twilight’s room, lingering for a moment outside before entering. It was dark, the only light in the room now coming from the lamp at Twilight’s bedside, and Spike was curled up in his spot at the foot of the bed. Twilight herself, now dressed in a similar pair of pajamas to what Adagio now wore, sat in the bed with the cover pulled up to her waist.
“Hi,” she said.
Adagio forced a smile and climbed into the bed next to her.
“Could you get the light?”
She reached over to the lamp and turned it off, shrouding them in darkness.
“Thank you,” said Twilight, followed by a yawn. “Good night, Adagio, see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Twilight Sparkle,” responded Adagio.
All trace of her exhaustion was gone from her mind. She was wide awake, staring up into the abyss that surrounded her. On one side, nestled beneath the warm blankets, was Twilight Sparkle, the one person in this world (and any others) that Adagio cared for. On the other, waiting for her in a dusty old box, was the amulet—the key to not only her magic, but to the end of her life as a mere human. She stood at a fork in the road. Two paths lay before her, each stretching out into the gloom, never to meet again.
Adagio made her choice.
Twilight Sparkle awoke to the blaring of her alarm.
She reached out with her hand, groping blindly (or, more accurately, nearsightedly) for her phone which, for some reason, was on the wrong side. Usually she turned her alarm off on weekends, but, given the events of the night before, all thoughts that weren’t about her sleepover with Adagio had gone by the wayside.
Twilight blinked. Adagio.
“Sorry!” she squeaked, her fumbling becoming more desperate when she remembered she wasn’t alone. She felt the tips of her finger knock into something hard and winced at the sound of her phone falling from its place on the bookshelf (the dresser where she typically placed it was on the other side—Adagio’s side) and clattering against the hard wooden floor.
She leaned down, dangling herself precariously off the side of the bed while she scooped the phone up and into her hands. Okay, so she ended up looking a bit like a clutz, but she’d managed to avoid falling off the bed herself, so that was something.
“Sorry about that,” she repeated. “I promise I don’t usually wake up house guests with loud noises and flailing.”
There was no response.
“...Adagio?”
Twilight reached out for her glasses, managing to retrieve them without knocking them (or anything else) on the floor, and put them on. She looked over to Adagio’s side of the bed.
It was empty.
She sat up, quickly scanning the room around her. No Adagio. Twilight could feel a rising sense of panic in her chest and wild speculation began running through her mind. Had Adagio gotten sick? Had Twilight said something weird in her sleep that had scared her away? Had the whole previous night been a hyper-realistic dream?
Twilight shook her head. She was being crazy—for all she knew, Adagio had gotten up to go to the bathroom. She chucked at her own paranoia (which ended up coming out more like a nervous laugh) and got up, determined to put her fears to rest for good.
Spike was, unsurprisingly, still blissfully asleep at the foot of the bed. He’d never been much of a guard dog, so Twilight left him alone as she stepped out into the hallway. Her first stop was the bathroom, and while Adagio was not there, Twilight did find a pair of familiar pajamas folded up and placed on the counter by the sink.
Okay, so Adagio had been here, allowing Twilight to put some of her more far-fetched theories about her disappearance to rest, while throwing fuel to some of the more worrying ones. If Adagio had awoken earlier, why hadn’t she woken Twilight? Did she not want to talk to her?
These nagging thoughts only grew in intensity as Twilight continued to search the house. The living room was empty. The kitchen was empty. She even poked her head into Shining Armor’s room, (which was also empty), but it wasn’t until she discovered that Adagio’s shoes were missing that she allowed panic to take over completely.
What the heck had happened?
Everything had gone so well last night—they hung out, they ate, they chatted, Adagio had fallen asleep on her (and missed the movie, but that just meant they could watch it again some other time!)... it had been practically perfect!
Well, maybe not perfect, she might have gotten a little intense there for a bit talking about being ‘bound together by magic’ when Adagio had found the amulet, but that wasn’t—
Twilight felt the world around her come to a screeching halt.
“No,” she whispered. She turned on her heel, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood as she sprinted back to her room and threw open the door. “No, no, no, no!”
The racket was enough to finally draw Spike from his slumber. “Twilight?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”
Twilight ignored him, instead making a beeline for the dresser beside her bed and the box that sat on top of it. The lid was askew, and while that should have been enough to tell her everything she needed to know, she had to see for herself. She opened the box.
Spike’s confusion turned to concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Where’s Adagio?”
“It’s gone,” said Twilight, staring with brokenhearted disbelief into the empty box before her.
Adagio stepped out of the rain and into a familiar diner.
The downpour had begun mere minutes after she had left Twilight’s house and showed no signs of letting up any time soon. She wasn’t surprised—no, if anything she’d have been surprised if it didn’t rain, given the situation. Things had happened as they were always going to: the villain had betrayed the hero, and the tragedy of Twilight Sparkle was nearing its conclusion. All she had to do now was take a bow and wait for the curtains to close. She’d won, after all…
Hadn’t she?
No, not yet. Her hands still trembled beneath her hoodie (though whether it was from the cold or the apprehension she couldn’t tell), tightly grasping her prize. A waitress took a dismayed look at the puddles Adagio was leaving in her wake, but the Siren paid her no mind. She shuffled over to a booth and slid inside, ignoring the unpleasant sensation of sitting in wet jeans as she withdrew the amulet from beneath her shirt and placed it on the table before her.
Miraculously, the device had managed to remain relatively dry—a sacrifice she had paid for dearly—but as she looked down on it droplets of water dripped from her nose and hair down onto its polished surface.
Adagio cursed, wiping her hands on the the fabric of her seat before grabbing a handful of napkins from the dispenser to dry her face. There was too much water for it to have any real impact, but one small mountain of soggy, discarded napkins later, and at least she wasn’t dripping anymore.
“Can I get you a menu?”
The waitress had returned, and was tapping a small clipboard with the end of a pen while eyeing the growing stain beneath Adagio as the moisture from her jeans leached into the seat beneath her.
“No.”
“Coffee?”
“No.”
The waitress sighed and put a hand on her hip. “Look, honey, I don’t want to turn you back out into the rain, but if you don’t order anything the boss is going to make me.”
“Fine,” hissed Adagio, “coffee.”
The waitress nodded and sauntered over to the counter.
“Hey, Dark Roast, one black coffee!”
A man’s voice responded. “One black coffee, coming right up!”
Adagio turned her attention back to the device before her. Carefully she opened the clasp and, mimicking what she’d seen Twilight do just hours before, wedged her nail into a groove. It was harder than Twilight had made it look, and for a moment Adagio was afraid she was going to break the thing (perhaps, if there was any justice in the world, she would have), but in the end she managed to pry it open.
Inside was the gemstone… or what remained of it, anyway. The shard had been drained of its magic and its lustre, and what was left was nothing more than a withered shell—an empty facsimile of what once was.
Adagio could relate.
Slowly, and without daring even to breathe, Adagio reached inside and took hold of the shard. She’d barely managed to get it out when it crumbled into ash, blackening the tips of her fingers and spilling between them onto the table below. It seemed that Twilight Sparkle’s amulet was all that had been holding it together.
Adagio shook her head. There was still work to be done. She reached behind her, fumbling with the clasp of her necklace for a moment before finally managing to remove it. She held it out before her, watching as the flourescent light of the diner danced and twinkled within the little red gem. She remembered thinking that this piece of the gem was flawed and dull, but if that had indeed been the case there was no evidence of it now.
But that wasn’t the only memory she had of the necklace. The chain had been given to her by Sugarcoat, and while at the time Adagio hadn’t understood why she had done such a thing, now the answer seemed incredibly obvious.
In her own way, Sugarcoat had wanted to be her friend.
She scowled. If tonight had taught anyone anything, it was that being friends with Adagio Dazzle was a grave mistake. She took the chain in one hand and the gem in the other and pulled. The shard came free with an audible snap.
The next step was deceptively complex. She had to maneuver the gem into place and reconnect the electrodes, making sure not to miss any or risk catastrophe. For all she knew, one out-of-place wire could fry the whole device, rendering all the work Adagio had put in, everything she’d sacrificed (and everyone) completely worthless. It didn’t help that while Twilight Sparkle had almost assuredly assembled the device with cutting edge equipment, Adagio was forced to perform the operation with her fingernails and a set of cheap diner cutlery.
But somehow, against all odds, she did it.
She must have examined the device for ten minutes ensuring that nothing was out of place. In that time the waitress had returned with her coffee, and though she’d given the device a curious look she hadn’t asked any questions before returning to the counter, whistling as she wiped it down with a rag. Eventually, Adagio decided that if there was anything wrong with the circuitry now she was either too blind, stupid, or tired to see it, and closed the little compartment, before snapping the amulet itself shut. She then stared at the amulet and, for ten agonizing seconds, nothing happened.
And then: light.
Adagio couldn’t believe it. It hadn’t exploded or electrocuted her, it had just… worked. A wicked smile tugged at her lips and she couldn’t help but gaze at it in awe and disbelief for what could have been hours. The device had worked, and now there was only one thing left to do.
She picked the chain up off the table and laced it through the loop at the top of the amulet. It felt somehow wrong to use the chain Sugarcoat had gifted her in this way, but it was somehow fitting: another piece of a fractured friendship bound up into the instrument of Adagio’s triumph. Not that it mattered, anyway, the chain (like the friendship that had bore it) was but a temporary measure, dainty, weak, and prime to be replaced once something better came along.
Adagio frowned, forcing the unpleasant thoughts from her mind as she prepared for the final test. She picked the amulet up by the chain and placed it around her neck. It was heavy—much heavier than her pendant, which had practically weighed nothing—and seemed to thrum with power and hunger, the same hunger that had haunted Adagio long before she’d ever stepped foot into this cursed world. Yes, this was her magic alright, and all that was left was to see if she could still wield it.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to sing.
“Ahh, ah-ah ahh...”
The notes flowed with practiced ease from her lips. She could feel the ravenous magic surround and envelope her, before extending outwards like tendrils, probing blindly in search of unsuspecting prey.
Across the diner, Adagio heard the waitress cry out.
“Gosh darn it, Roast, you left the burner on again!”
“Excuse me? After all the times I’ve wiped down the counter after you forgot?! Why I—”
The bickering was drowned out by a flood of ecstasy. The amulet acted like a valve, funneling the magic from the outside in. She could feel her toes curling and her back arching—oh, how she had missed this!—and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or simply bask in her victory.
The flood began to slow into a trickle. For a second Adagio felt like an addict, desperate to get another fix, but she forced herself to calm down. There was only so much magic to be had in this world, she recalled, and while it seemed that more and more was finding its way here from Equestria, it was still a resource too valuable to be squandered. That meant staying away from her enemies (Twilight now counting amongst them) until she was confident enough that she could defeat them, and that meant moving quickly. She’d return to Crystal Prep, gather Sonata and Aria (who, upon seeing that Adagio’s plan had come to fruition, would finally fall in line) and, together once more, the three Sirens would leave Canterlot and…
And what?
Adagio shook her head again. It didn’t matter—she had the amulet, she had the magic, and everything else was just details. With the power she now wielded there was nothing that could stand in her way.
She stood up, not bothering to pay for the untouched coffee she left behind. Dark Roast and the waitress were too caught up in their bickering to notice her leave, and for the second time in her life, Adagio Dazzle walked out of that Canterlot diner with visions of glory dancing in her head.
It was almost enough to make her forget about the rain.
It may have been morning when Adagio returned to Crystal Prep Academy for what would (hopefully) be the final time, but the endless sea of dark clouds that loomed on the horizon kept any light from reaching the accursed campus.
Her first stop was the dormitories. Though she had no interest in running into Sugarcoat or anyone else who might be lurking in the halls at this hour, the waterlogged state of her clothes made the risk an unpleasant necessity. But fortune smiled once again on Adagio, and the door to the building was unlocked and, when she returned to her room, Sugarcoat was nowhere to be found.
Adagio let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and felt silly for doing so. Sugarcoat posed no threat to her—even if the girl had noticed the amulet while Adagio got changed she could merely charm her (magically, of course) into believing whatever Adagio wished. This thought brought with it a feeling of uneasiness in the pit of Adagio’s stomach, similar to how she’d felt when she’d imagined Twilight as a thrall to her power, and she quickly dismissed it. These feelings were remnants of her former self, weak and powerless—a self she had left behind the moment she had stolen the amulet.
With her casual clothes not an option, Adagio had no other choice than to change into one of her Crystal Prep uniforms. The irony that her ultimate betrayal of Abacus Cinch and reneging on their deal while dressed in the very outfit that Cinch had used to try to strip away her identity was almost enough to bring a smile to the Siren’s face. She dumped out the contents of her backpack, allowing Twilight’s notes and books leftover from their study sessions to spill out onto the floor before stuffing her soggy clothes (her only other possessions that she cared even a little for) into the bag and slinging it over her shoulder.
As she turned to leave the dorm room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Dark bags hung under her eyes just as the heavy amulet hung from her neck. The amulet seemed to have taken on an ominous (and familiar) red glow that hadn’t been there previously, though whether this was some indication that there was magic stored within it, or some interaction with her own Siren physiology (if such a thing existed in this world) she didn’t know. Whatever the case, the combination of the glowing and her own dark features cast her in a sinister light befitting the villainy that had brought her, and that which was still to come.
She had the sudden urge to break the mirror. Without thinking she picked a textbook up off the floor and hurled it at the offending object. Shards of glass exploded outward and Adagio instinctively held her arms up to shield her face. After a moment she lowered them and surveilled the results of her outburst: cracks spiraled out from where the book had impacted the mirror, segmenting it into long slivers that each reflected a pair of angry, distorted eyes back at her. Below it, covered in hundreds of razor sharp glass shards, sat the book, opened to a page sporting one of Twilight’s numerous annotations.
‘This is really important,’ read the note, ‘don’t forget it!’
Anger boiled up within Adagio’s chest and she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Across the hallway was the room belonging to Aria and Sonata, and while it would be easy to simply knock on their door and enlist them right now, Adagio felt herself hesitate. Knocking at their door, allowing them to watch her through their little peephole and consider whether or not they wanted to speak with her… no, it felt too much like groveling. Adagio Dazzle did not grovel, and her victory would be on her terms.
She took one last look back at her own room, and saw something that she’d been too preoccupied to notice on her way in: that someone had, once again, vandalized their whiteboard.
‘TRAITOR,’ it said, scrawled crudely in thick, black letters.
She didn’t bother to erase it.
The door to Twilight Sparkle’s lab creaked open, the light from the hall casting a narrow beam onto the dusty equipment within. Adagio reached into the darkness and flipped the switch, filling the room with the steady hum of fluorescent bulbs as she stepped inside.
Yes, it had to be here. The very place that Twilight had created the amulet would now serve as the spot where Adagio would use it to get back everything that had been taken from her—yet another one of destiny’s little jokes. She crossed the room, dropping down into her usual chair which greeted her with a familiar squeak. The motion must have bumped the desk, as the computer monitor flickered to life and, before she could move to stop it, Adagio found herself face-to-face with the static image of Spike.
She stared at it for a moment, her eyes drawn to the little box prompting her for a password. She was tempted to see if she could guess her way into the system but, knowing Twilight, the password was probably some incomprehensible string of characters or some impossibly long chemical compound that Adagio had never heard of. But even if she did get in, what then? It wouldn’t matter if the computer had schematics for the amulet since she already had it, and hadn’t Adagio hurt Twilight enough already without access to whatever secrets she had locked away in there?
Adagio scowled and pressed a finger to the monitor’s power button, turning it off. All this thinking was distracting her from her victory. She spun her chair around to face away from the desk and pulled her phone from her backpack. It was a bit damp but, after wiping the screen on her skirt, Adagio was glad to see that it still worked.
The first thing she noticed was the multitude of texts from Twilight. Adagio swiped past them, forcing herself not to read any as she pulled up her contact list and tapped on Sonata’s name. There, too, were a legion of unread messages, though containing much less punctuation and a liberal use of emojis, which Adagio ignored as she composed a text of her own.
‘I’m in the lab and I have our magic.’
She thought for a moment.
‘Bring Aria.’
Satisfied, she hit ‘send’ and stuffed the phone back into her bag. Now it was up to them to come crawling back to her, and all she had to do was wait.
And so she did.
A sudden banging on the door made Adagio start. She snapped to attention, blinking her bleary eyes to focus them and forcing herself to stand. She hadn’t fallen asleep—not quite, anyway—but if the idiots had taken any longer she certainly might have.
She took a second to compose herself. Yes, she was tired, hungry, and felt like she’d been hit by an emotional bulldozer, but there was still one last hurdle she had to cross before she reached the finish line.
She took a deep breath, put her hand on the doorknob and opened the door, ready to assert her dominance once and for all.
“You did it.”
Sonata spoke in barely more than a whisper. She stood in the doorway, staring not at Adagio but at the amulet that hung around her neck, its red glow reflecting in her eyes.
“You did it, you did it, you did it!”
Each word that left her mouth was louder than the last, and by the end Sonata was practically screaming with excitement. She surged forward and Adagio stepped quickly out of the way, unsure whether the girl planned to hug her or make a grab for the amulet.
“I could feel it in the hallway. I knew you’d do it, ‘Dagi, Aria didn’t think you could do it, but I told her, ‘Dagi, I told her you—”
Adagio tuned out Sonata’s excitement, looking instead to the empty hallway behind her.
“Where’s Aria?” she snapped. “I told you to bring her.”
That shut Sonata up. She adopted a nervous expression and turned away, though not so much as to take her eyes off the amulet.
“She didn’t want to come,” said Sonata.
“What?”
Sonata winced at Adagio’s harsh tone. “I told her what you said, that you had our magic back, but…” Sonata’s brow furrowed, and she finally managed to tear her eyes from the amulet to give Adagio a look of confusion and the beginnings of panic. “She said she didn’t care and told me to come alone. It doesn’t make any sense, ‘Dagi, how can she not care? It’s our magic, it’s…it’s—”
“Where is she?” hissed Adagio.
“She’s in the gym. I told her she could play basketball whenever she wanted and that this was, like, super important but—where are you going?”
Adagio had stepped past Sonata on her way to the hall. “I’m going to talk to her.”
The color drained from Sonata’s face and she leapt to put herself between Adagio and the door.
“Wait!” she cried. “I, uh, don’t think that’s a good idea right now. She’s still really mad about the Rainboom-bed thing—even though I told her that it had to be part of ‘the plan’—but maybe if we waited a couple days for her to cool down—”
“A couple days? Sonata, we’re not waiting for anything. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” Sonata’s panic was now in full effect. “But what about Aria? What about getting revenge on the Rainbooms with Principal Cinch?”
Adagio scoffed. “Cinch? You didn’t really believe any of that, did you?”
Sonata gave her an uncertain nod.
“We were using her, Sonata!” shouted Adagio, her patience having finally reached its limit. “We were using her just like I used Twilight Sparkle!”
“Who?”
“The Rainboom!” Adagio tried to move around Sonata, only for the other girl to block her.
“Wait!”
Adagio focused all of the loathing and fury she was feeling into a baleful glare. “Get out of my way, Sonata.”
“Just listen for a second, please! Aria doesn’t want to talk to you, but maybe if I bring her the amulet, let her feel the magic…” Sonata reached hand tentatively towards the amulet, only to have it viciously slapped away by Adagio. She flinched back, clutching her hand to her chest and looking pleadingly at Adagio.
“’Dagi—”
“I will talk to Aria,” snarled Adagio. She’d had enough of this nonsense. There was no chance that she would send Sonata to grovel for Aria’s return, and even less than no chance that she’d allow her to lay so much as a finger on the amulet. This was her moment, and she would be the one grasp it.
“But what if she won’t talk to you?”
“Then we leave her behind.”
Sonata’s eyes went wide, and the first of the tears that had been threatening to fall since the slap began running down her cheek.
“But we can’t—”
“We can and we will,” said Adagio coldly. She shoved past Sonata and, without looking back, stepped into the hallway.
“Wait here,” she said, “we’re leaving when I get back—with or without Aria.”
“Please, ‘Dagi!” begged Sonata, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to do this!”
Adagio let the door slam closed behind her.
The halls were empty as Adagio stormed towards the gym. It wasn’t surprising, despite everything that had happened it was still the weekend after exams, so everyone (teachers included) were probably staying as far away from school as they could manage.
Except for Aria, anyway, and Adagio and Sonata… Cinch was probably around, too—Adagio had her doubts whether she ever left the school—but failed to show her wrinkled face before Adagio reached the gym. A pity, really, she wouldn’t have minded tearing a strip off of her before she got to the main course.
Adagio threw open the door. There was Aria, shooting free throws on the other side of the gymnasium, dressed in the same stupid jersey she’d worn at the basketball game Sonata had dragged Adagio to two long weeks ago. She stopped mid-shot, tucking the ball under her arm and turning to face Adagio.
She didn’t look surprised, nor did she make any effort to approach. Normally, the insolence of making Adagio go to her would have made Adagio’s blood boil, but this was different. Adagio closed the distance between them with a slow, confident stride, each step accompanied by a sway of her hips and the echo of her flats connecting with the wooden floor. The amulet hung tantalizingly from her neck, swinging ever so slightly in a manner that must have been simply hypnotic to watch. Aria may have made Adagio come to her, but rather than a walk of shame, Adagio had turned it into a victory parade.
For her part, Aria did better than Sonata—managing to cast only the occasional glance at the amulet while otherwise keeping her eyes firmly planted on Adagio. If Sonata had felt the magic from through door and into the hallway then there was no question of whether Aria could feel it now, and knowing that she had just turned down the chance to to have that power for herself…
Adagio allowed herself a cruel smile. It must have been unbearable.
She came to a stop a few feet away from Aria, and several seconds passed as the two Sirens stared at one another, daring the other to make the first move. Aria broke first.
“So,” she said, her voice not betraying any hint of emotion, “looks like your plan worked.”
“Yes,” said Adagio, “it did.”
They lapsed into silence once again. Adagio was a little disappointed, there had been none of the crying or apologizing she had hoped for, but then again Aria did always like to make things difficult. She waited a little longer, but when it became increasingly obvious that Aria had no intention of moving the conversation towards its inevitable conclusion, Adagio decided to move things along herself.
“Do you know why I’m here?”
Aria nodded. “I think I have an idea.”
“Then I’ll cut to the chase. After much thought, and despite the little temper tantrum you threw last week, I’ve decided to be the bigger Siren and forgive you.”
“You forgive me,” Aria parroted back to her.
“That’s right,” said Adagio.
“You forgive me.”
“Yes, and believe me it wasn’t easy. See, Aria, you might be an arrogant, entitled brat who doesn’t think about anyone but themselves, but for some reason Sonata likes you. And, since I’m going to take her with me now that I’ve retrieved our magic, having you around to make her slightly less intolerable seemed like a prudent choice.”
Aria didn’t respond.
Adagio bristled. “You need me to spell this out for you? Fine. Aria, I am making you a once in a lifetime offer—to conveniently forget all your scheming and treachery, and to give you the opportunity to let things go back to the way they used to be: the three of us, together, with our magic.”
She held out her hand.
“What do you say?”
Aria looked at her hand, then at the amulet, then into Adagio’s eyes.
“No,” she said.
Adagio’s arm dropped limply to her side. “What?”
“No,” repeated Aria.
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
Aria sighed. “Are you going to make me say it again?”
Adagio couldn’t believe her ears. This was not how things were supposed to happen! She was supposed to get her magic back, get Sonata and Aria, then leave. That was the plan. There was not, and had not been, any room in those calculations for this.
“You’ve lost your mind,” said Adagio. “This is magic, Aria, our magic. Remember? After everything we’ve been through in this wretched world, how can you say ‘no’ to that?”
“I’m not saying ‘no’ to our magic, Adagio, I’m saying ‘no’ to you.”
Adagio sputtered. “So... what? You’re just going to throw away your future because you’re still angry over a stupid photo?”
“Future?” scoffed Aria. “What future? One where I get to go back to being your lackey? You didn’t even make amulets for Sonata and I, did you? What, were you planning to keep all the magic for yourself, siphoning off just enough to keep the two of us in line?”
Adagio barred her teeth. Aria continued.
“I meant what I said, Adagio: I’m done with you. Sonata might not realize what a horrible, toxic person you are, but she will. I mean look at you!” She made a sweeping gesture at Adagio. “Sunken eyes, unkempt hair… what happened to you?”
“I won,” spat Adagio.
“Did you?” asked Aria. “Well, congratulations, here’s your prize: a lifetime supply of loneliness.”
“I already got my prize,” said Adagio, clutching the amulet in her hand and holding it out towards Aria.
“Magic,” said Aria. “Right. Tell me, does it fill that frigid hole where your heart should be?”
Adagio’s hands balled into fists. She could her blood pumping in her ears, and feel the thrum of magic from the amulet, compounding her anger with every pulse.
“I never liked you, Adagio, but there was a time that I trusted you. But after last week… well, I thought I hated you, but seeing you now I realize that there’s nothing there to hate. You’re just an empty shell that sucks the life out of everything it touches, and never again will I make the mistake of thinking that you could ever change.”
Every inch of Adagio’s body was shaking with rage. She wanted to rip into Aria, tell her just how worthless and insignificant she was, but when she couldn’t find the words to express just how truly and deeply she despised Aria, she settled instead on a threat.
“You’ll regret this.”
“No,” said Aria, “I don’t think I will.”
Adagio opened her mouth to respond, but Aria held up a hand to cut her off. “Just go, Adagio. I have nothing left to say to you.”
With that, Aria turned her back on Adagio and began lining up a shot. Adagio watched her, wanting desperately to say something—anything—but couldn’t. Words had failed her… in more ways than one.
She turned on her heel and made for the exit. She didn’t run (though running was exactly what she wanted to do right now) but instead forced herself to keep an even pace. As she stepped the toward door she heard the whooshing sound of a basketball sailing through the air and into the net.
Adagio slammed the door shut behind her and, blinded as she was by her fury, nearly missed the three figures that awaited her in the hall.
Flanking her on either side of the doorway were Nurse Tough Love and her gym teacher, and standing in the center of the hallway with her arms tucked neatly behind her back was Principal Abacus Cinch.
“Adagio Dazzle,” she said, “I see you have something that belongs to me.”
“I’m not in the mood, Cinch,” growled Adagio. As fired up as she’d been earlier to take on the principal, now all she wanted to do was go.
“That’s Principal Cinch, Miss Dazzle, though despite your insolence I must say I am pleasantly surprised. I wouldn’t have taken you in if I didn’t believe there was some possibility of you succeeding at your task, but I must say I had my doubts. But here you are, and there it is.” She narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Now, hand it over.”
“Not a chance,” said Adagio. Cinch sighed.
“A pity,” she said. “I am a woman of my word, Miss Dazzle, and while I would have offered you all the rewards you were promised, I will not suffer this treachery.”
Adagio had heard enough. It was time to show Abacus Cinch exactly how terrible a mistake she had made in allowing a Siren to reacquire her magic. Adagio closed her eyes and opened her mouth, beginning the first few notes of a magically infused melody. It wasn’t much—she might have had some magic, but it was still nothing compared to what she’d had at the height of her power—but it was enough to lull Cinch and her cronies into a stupor for just long enough for Adagio to grab Sonata and get out of there.
Or, at least, it should have been. When Adagio opened her eyes she was not faced with the stupefied principal she’d been expecting, but a fully cognisant Abacus Cinch.
Adagio took a step back. “What is this? What’s going on?” Desperation had found root in her voice, and she placed a hand on the amulet, shielding it from Cinch’s view. She could still feel the magic thrumming within it, within her, so what had gone wrong?
Abacus Cinch nodded to Tough Love, and Adagio felt a meaty hand come down on her shoulder. Tried to pull out of its grip but to no avail—with one hand the burly nurse had effectively pinned her in place.
“You seem to be having trouble understanding what has happened here, Miss Dazzle, so allow me to explain. You have spent your entire time at Crystal Prep Academy underestimating myself and the influence I hold, while I have never once underestimated you.”
She turned her head, and poking out of her ear was the end of what Adagio immediately recognized as being an earplug. She glanced to her left and right, confirming her suspicion that both Tough Love and the gym teacher were similarly equipped. She cursed herself for not having noticed earlier.
“Yes, reading lips is a talent that I’ve found particularly useful in my profession. Picking out the words of students in crowded cafeteria or their whispering during assemblies… though I must say this is a particularly novel use.”
Adagio lurched forward, hoping that the sudden movement would surprise her captor, but earned herself only a jolt of pain.
“There’s no need for that,” chastised Cinch. “You are beaten, Adagio, your little act of treason itself undone by an act of betrayal much closer to home.”
Adagio’s struggling ceased as her eyes fixed on Cinch. ‘Much closer to home’ could only mean—
“She set me up,” breathed Adagio. It all suddenly made sense. It hadn’t just been a power play to have Adagio come all the way to the gym to confront Aria, it had been to lure Adagio into this little ambush! Aria hadn’t begged for Adagio’s forgiveness not because she was strong willed enough to resist the call of their magic, but because she was already planning to steal it all for herself!
“Yes,” said Cinch, “she did, and she will be handsomely rewarded for her loyalty. But if it comes as any consolation, Miss Dazzle, I assure you that the revenge against Canterlot High will go ahead as planned. You have served as a vital component to your vengeance, but have given up the opportunity to see it play out firsthand.”
“Wait!” said Adagio. “Let’s talk about this, we can—”
“I’m afraid the time for talking is over,” said Cinch, and she nodded to the gym teacher who began closing in on Adagio. Adagio swiped at her with her nails, keeping her at bay for a moment until Tough Love readjusted his grip, grabbing her by the arms and pinning them at her side. She felt the teacher’s hands fumbling for the clasp around her neck, and began shaking her head wildly like an animal caught in a trap, but it was no use. The gym teacher finally succeeded in undoing the clasp, removing the amulet from Adagio’s neck.
It was worse than the Battle of the Bands. At least there it had been quick, like ripping off a bandaid her magic had been there one moment and gone the next. But this was different. It was slow, like someone had something within her and began to pull, dragging it out of her inch by inch as her entire body fought to keep it where it belonged. The gym teacher turned and made her way over to Cinch, and with each step the agony grew worse and worse.
“Stop!” shouted Adagio. “Please!”
Cinch accepted the amulet, giving it a quick once-over before tucking it into a pocket and out of Adagio’s sight.
“Now then, I believe our business together has come to an end.” Cinch looked at Tough Love and tapped her ear, indicating for him to remove his earplugs. One of Adagio’s arms was suddenly freed as he let go to perform the deed, prompting Adagio to immediately throw herself at Cinch.
It didn’t work, of course. Tough Love was more than capable of restraining her with one hand, as she’d already experienced, and Abacus Cinch didn’t so much as flinch at the feeble attempt.
“Please escort Miss Dazzle off the premises. Security will meet you at the gate and ensure she does not find her way back inside.”
“You won’t get away with this!” Shouted Adagio as Tough Love began marching her past the principal.
“I already have,” said Cinch, dismissively. Adagio took another swing at her, failing miserably as her attempts became more erratic. Desperation had taken over completely and she began flailing violently, forcing Tough Love to drag her down the hallway. Abacus Cinch gave her one last look before she disappeared around the corner, not of arrogance or smugness, but of boredom. To her, Adagio had not been a nemesis to outplay but an obstacle to overcome on her own quest for vengeance, and now that she’d done it she was simply going through the motions.
Adagio went limp. She stared at the ground, watching tile turn to wet pavement as Tough Love effortlessly moved her out of the school and into the parking lot. Wind and rain buffeted her, the storm having somehow gotten worse since she’d arrived at Crystal Prep, and before long Adagio was deposited unceremoniously on the ground on the side of the road.
She lay there, stunned by the sheer magnitude of what had happened. She’d had it all, and in the blink of an eye it was all gone.
She had nothing.
No one.
Nowhere to go, no plan to fall back on.
Behind her, Adagio heard Crystal Prep’s magnificent gate slam shut.
Where was she going? She’d somehow managed to pry herself off the pavement, though why she’d done so still eluded her. She’d failed—not just once, but over and over, each time thinking that surely she could fall no further, only to tumble over the edge of another cliff. But this had to be the bottom, didn’t it? No Equestria, no magic, no Aria or Sonata, no Twilight…
No hope.
So why was she still moving? Her muscles screamed at her, begging to be allowed to rest or simply to give up. She was starving, but the thought of food made her nauseous. She wanted to sleep, but without a roof over her head she might as well just lay down and die.
So why didn’t she?
Adagio heard the blaring of a car horn from behind her just in time for it to whizz by, sending up a great wave of dirty rainwater that nearly knocked her off her feet. She stumbled, catching herself on the metal base of a streetlight before tapping into reserves of strength she didn’t think she still had in order to right herself. It was at that moment she realized exactly where her aimless wandering had lead her.
Canterlot High.
Adagio barked an empty, mirthless laugh. Why here, of all places? Was this yet another example of destiny’s sick sense of humor, or had she been led here by some subconscious need for yet more punishment?
She pushed off the pole, staggering not towards the school, but to the monumental marble statue that stood before it and the Equestrian portal nestled secretly within its plinth. Adagio wondered whether the sculptor had known what purpose their creation would one day serve. Was that why they had chosen a horse? Or had the statue been chosen simply because of what it depicted?
She rounded the base of the statue, turning to face the spot where she knew the portal to be. As she drew close her reflection leered back at her through the mirror-like marble. Her eyes were sunken and bloodshot, with the now familiar black bags hanging beneath them. Her hair was matted and, like her clothes, clung uncomfortably to her body, making her look small and almost skeletal without its voluminous mass.
What happened to you?
The memory of Aria’s words stung more now than when she’d spoken them. Together, she and her hollow reflection extended their hands as Adagio reached out and, just like all the other times she’d sought to make use of this bridge between the two worlds, felt only cold stone.
Nothing.
Something within her snapped. Adagio withdrew her hand, coiling it into a first before lashing out at the statue. The pain was blinding, but she didn’t stop. Over and over again she slammed into it, tearing open the old wounds on her knuckles and leaving behind a red smear of blood that colored and distorted her reflection.
Nothing—that was what had happened to her. She had spent so much time raging against the hand she’d been dealt, she hadn’t realized that she was the one holding the deck. She got herself banished to this world. She picked a fight with the Rainbooms that resulted in the loss of what little magic she had left. She made a deal with Abacus Cinch. She alienated Sonata and Aria. She betrayed Twilight Sparkle.
Twilight.
Adagio let her arms drop to her sides. The knuckles of her right hand looked like raw meat, and blood mixed with rainwater flowed freely from the tips of her fingers. Nothing seemed to be broken, so either she’d pulled her punches or had been too weak to even self-destruct properly.
She hadn’t simply betrayed Twilight, she had used her: first to pass her exams (so much for that!) and then to keep the Rainbooms off her back until she regained her magic. And then, the moment Adagio had gotten what she wanted, she had discarded Twilight like she was nothing, solidifying herself as everything Aria had said she was and more—a broken, toxic, empty shell that cared about nothing and no one.
So why, after everything that had happened—everything that she’d done—was her phone still ringing?
She’d felt it for a while now, the vibrations from the relentless onslaught of phone calls and text messages that could only be coming from Twilight Sparkle. She’d been ignoring them for hours but still they came—and if anything they’d increased in frequency has time had passed. How hadn’t Twilight gotten the message yet? The Adagio she thought she knew didn’t exist. Why wouldn’t she just give up?
Adagio tried to reach into her pocket, but bending her fingers produced such excruciating pain that for a moment the entire world went black. Had she broken something after all? It wasn’t as if she didn’t deserve it. When her vision cleared and the pain returned to being only almost unbearable, Adagio contorted herself such that her left hand could reach into her right pocket, producing the phone.
Her timing was impeccable. The phone nearly vibrated out of her hand as yet another call came in. Raindrops splattered against the already soaked screen as Adagio stared at it, watching it ring. One swipe: that’s all it would take to allow Adagio to tell Twilight exactly how she felt. That Twilight had failed, that their friendship had been one big lie, and that no number of phone calls or text messages would change any of that.
She tried to take a deep breath, managing only a shuddering gasp before swiping her finger across the screen to accept the call.
Nothing happened.
The phone continued to vibrate angrily as Adagio swiped again, but the touchscreen was too wet. She wiped it on her skirt, but after hours out in the rain if anything that only made things worse. She swiped over and over, each more desperate and frantic than the last until finally the call ended, the screen changing from the incoming call message to the lock screen, displaying a collection of Adagio’s most recently received texts that she couldn’t help but read.
‘Adagio, pick up the phone.’
‘Please.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Adagio screamed.
She turned on her heel, raising the phone into the air before spiking it as hard as she could into the ground below. It bounced twice, skittering across the concrete before coming to rest at the foot of the steps leading to the school’s entryway.
Adagio took a step back, bumping her injured hand against the statue and sending a fresh wave of agony jolting through her. She felt her legs buckle beneath her and collapsed into heap against the statue’s base. She closed her eyes, clutched her ruined hand to her chest, and began to sob like the pitiful, broken creature she was.
“Adagio?”
Her eyes snapped open. A figure had emerged from Canterlot High, and though her vision was blurred from the rain and her own tears, she immediately recognized what they were holding.
A god-awful, disgustingly pink umbrella.
Adagio rubbed her face on her sleeve and looked again. That was definitely Cadance’s umbrella, but as the figure drew closer Adagio realized that it wasn’t the dean of Crystal Prep who had miraculously showed up at Canterlot High, but someone she wanted to see even less.
Sunset Shimmer.
“Adagio!”
Sunset broke into a run. Adagio flattened herself against the base of the statue. She wanted to flee, but even if she could force herself back to her feet she knew that she was in no condition to outrun anyone. She was trapped.
“What do you want, Sunset Shimmer?”
“What do I want? Adagio, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Adagio’s eyes narrowed. Of course they were hunting for her, why wouldn’t they be? She’d expected as much after she’d stolen the amulet, which was why she’d planned to be long gone by now.
But since when did her plans ever work out?
“Well, you found me, but you’re too late.”
“What do you mean ‘too late?’” asked Sunset, her look of concern giving way to alarm. “Are you bleeding?”
“Stay back!” shouted Adagio, holding up her good hand palm out. Sunset complied, coming to a stop just a few feet away.
“You’re hurt, Adagio.”
“Brilliant deduction,” Adagio grunted.
Sunset looked worriedly at Adagio’s injured hand, prompting Adagio to turn in an attempt to shield it from her view. “What happened? Where’s the amulet?”
“I told you,” said Adagio, “you’re too late. It’s gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean, gone?”
Adagio didn’t respond, opting instead to stare defiantly up at Sunset.
“Adagio, this is serious. The amulet is dangerous, if it fell into the wrong hands—”
“It already fell into the wrong hands,” said Adagio. “Mine.”
Sunset eyed her warily. “Do you have it with you?”
“What part of gone don’t you understand?”
Sunset’s eye twitched, and Adagio could tell she was restraining herself from snapping back. “Look, just tell me what happened and I’ll call someone to get some help and—”
“I don’t want your help,” hissed Adagio. She knew how this game worked: Sunset needed information, and the best way to get that information was to pretend to be on Adagio’s side. As soon as Sunset got what she wanted she’d run off to do whatever it was heroes did, and leave Adagio to her ruin. That was what had happened last time, wasn’t it?
“Adagio—”
“Leave me alone, Sunset Shimmer!” she shouted, wishing she still had her phone so she could throw it at Sunset’s head.
Sunset hesitated, and for a moment Adagio thought she might actually be considering leaving, before Sunset took a cautious step forward.
“I need to know what happened.”
“And I need you to keep your distance,” said Adagio. “Hey, are you listening? I said stay away!”
But Sunset wasn’t listening. Despite Adagio’s protests, Sunset continued her approach until she was looming over her much like the statue at her back. With the hand not occupied by the umbrella, Sunset reached up and took hold of something tucked into the collar of her shirt. Adagio had only a split second to wonder what she was doing when a brilliant light flashed between Sunset’s fingers and Adagio felt the unmistakable aura of magic.
“What are you doing?” demanded Adagio. Sunset let go of whatever it was that she’d drawn this magic from and began reaching down towards Adagio.
Panic. Adagio tried backing up again, managing only to scrape her shoes against the concrete below and bump her head hard against the statue. Stars swam in her vision, and instinctively she guarded her injured hand by holding her other one out in a last-ditch attempt to hold off her attacker. This, as it turned out, was a tactical error, as when Sunset reached forward she did not attempt to bypass Adagio’s outstretched hand, but touch it.
Blinding light engulfed Sunset’s eyes as, once again, Adagio could feel magic radiatiating off of her. Her body went rigid, and her grasp on Adagio’s hand tightened, hampering her feeble attempts to break free.
The light show lasted only a few seconds, and Adagio was able to snatch her hand back as Sunset reeled from the effects of her magic.
“What was that?” demanded Adagio, her voice straining. “What did you do?”
Sunset blinked a few times before focusing on Adagio, her brow furrowing.
“What did Cinch want with the amulet?”
Adagio froze. That was impossible. There was no way Sunset could know about what had happened with Cinch unless—
“Stay out of my head, Sunset Shimmer!” shouted Adagio. She felt violated, the thought of the unwanted intrusion into her mind bring a sick feeling to her gut along with a fresh stab of guilt. Had she not spent years toying with the minds of others? Not reading them, but twisting them and shaping them to fit her own desires. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know what she’d been doing was wrong, but now that she was on the other side of the magic…
She shook her head to clear the thoughts, bringing on a fresh wave of dizziness. Her hypocrisy was nothing new and obsessing over it did nothing to lessen her outrage, but doing so had given Sunset Shimmer time to think. She watched Adagio, her face a mess of conflicting emotions.
“So, what now?” asked Adagio. If Sunset had truly been in her head (and of this she had little doubt), she must have known what Adagio did. Sunset was completely aware of the pathetic, loathsome creature that she’d become, which was why her next words were completely incomprehensible.
“We need to get you out of this rain.”
Adagio stared at her in utter bafflement. “Are you an idiot?”
Sunset blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You were in my head, right?”
Sunset nodded.
“Then you saw what I did to Twilight. I lied to her, stole from her, used her, I betrayed her—I betrayed all of you, just to get what I wanted!” Sunset watched her uncertainly, so Adagio continued. “So, I ask you again: are you an idiot? Because only an idiot would do something as monumentally stupid as trusting me.”
Sunset broke her silence. “I don’t trust you, Adagio.”
Adagio was taken aback, but quickly recovered. “That may be the smartest thing you’ve ever said, Sunset Shimmer. So, now that we’ve got that straightened out, go back to the other Rainbooms and tell them what happened, tell Twilight Sparkle what I really am, then go hit Abacus Cinch with a rainbow, or something, and leave. Me. Alone.”
The last words came out as little more than a growl. She glared up at Sunset, snarling and looking her dead in the eyes.
“No,” said Sunset.
Adagio let out a strangled noise that quickly devolved into a coughing fit. The cold rain was finally getting to her, and at this rate she might even lose her voice, the irony of which might even had made her laugh if she wasn’t already caught up in a frothing rage.
“How many times do I have to tell you this?” demanded Adagio. “I’m bad, Sunset Shimmer, take another peek inside my head if you don’t believe me—not that you need my permission!”
Sunset winced at the accusation, but didn’t relent.
“I’m not just going to leave you here!”
“And why not? You know what I did, and you said it yourself: you don’t trust me. All I do is hurt people, so if you stick around you’re just going to end up getting hurt, too. So, why don’t you just do us both a favor and go?”
“Because I’ve been here before,” said Sunset, glancing back towards the school’s steps. “I told you, didn’t I? I was right here when I lost everything, or, at least, when I thought I did. I know exactly what it feels like to have nothing, and what it’s like to be offered help by a group of girls who have every reason in the world to hate you. And so does Twilight.”
“I’m not like you,” said Adagio, “and I’m definitely not like Twilight Sparkle.”
“Why not?” asked Sunset. “What makes us so different?”
“You’re good, Sunset. Both of you. Twilight Sparkle is a human, and you’re a Unicorn. I’m just a...”
She paused, and when the word finally arrived it did so on a wave of shame and self-loathing.
“...a monster.”
Sunset shook her head. “A couple weeks ago I might have agreed with you, but something changed my mind.”
“What?”
“You,” said Sunset.
Adagio scoffed, though it was really more of a rasp. “What part of this prompted that, hmm? I—”
“Lied?” interrupted Sunset. “Stole? Betrayed? Yeah, you said that already, but I’ve been in your head, Adagio. All these things you’re feeling: all the anger, emptiness, pain… that’s guilt. Guilt because you know what you did was wrong, and because you’re afraid you’ve lost something that all the stolen magic in this world and any other couldn’t replace.”
“You’re wrong,” spat Adagio, desperately.
“Am I?” asked Sunset. She took a step forward. “Fine, then let’s have a little test. If you can look me in the eye and tell me that it was all just one big lie, and that your friendship with Twilight really does mean nothing to you, then I’ll go. But if you believe for one second that when she finds out what happened she won’t run straight here, then you really don’t know Twilight Sparkle.”
Sunset was right. Not about Twilight sprinting all the way to Canterlot High—the girl could barely make it up a flight of stairs without a break, she’d never make it to the school—but she’d try. Adagio could practically see it: Twilight, running through the rain, she’d be drenched to the bone by the time she arrived, but she’d come anyway, wouldn’t she? All so she could be torn down by Adagio one final time.
No. She looked up, locking eyes with Sunset Shimmer. If Adagio could convince her that she really, truly didn’t care for Twilight, perhaps Sunset’s own desire to protect her friend would allow her to find some way to save Twilight from that last torment. It was her only hope.
“It was all a lie.”
Sunset watched her intently. “...and?”
“And...” started Adagio. She grit her teeth. All she had to do was tell Sunset that Twilight meant nothing to her. It was just a few words, just one more lie spoken with conviction and it would all be over, and yet the voices in her would not stop screaming at her the earnest words once spoken by an infuriating pink-haired dean.
No more lies.
She opened her mouth, only to close it again. She was being foolish! She’d lied since she’d made that promise to Cadance, and she would certainly lie again, so why was telling this one, stupid lie so difficult?
Not difficult, she thought, impossible.
Her shoulders slumped and she tore her eyes from Sunset’s, casting them down to the earth. What a failure she’d become, unable even to protect Twilight from the truth.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
She did care about Twilight. She cared so deeply and so powerfully that she ached… which was what made what she’d done so unforgivable. Realization dawned on her: she wasn’t afraid of Twilight hating her for what she did—Adagio knew a lot about hate, and she doubted someone like Twilight was even capable of such a poisonous emotion—but the exact opposite. She was afraid Twilight would forgive her, allowing Adagio to hurt her over and over again, until everything beautiful and wonderful about Twilight Sparkle was chipped away to nothing.
“We’re not in Equestria anymore,” said Sunset, her voice growing softer as she spoke. “We’re not a Unicorn and a Siren, we’re both just… people. Human beings. I’m not saying what happened in the past doesn’t matter, but it doesn’t have to define us. You can change, Adagio, if you want to.”
Did she?
Being a Siren was more than fins and singing. It was her ambition, her ruthlessness, her lust for power, her cunning… her everything! If she lost that she’d be, well, nothing. Hollow. Empty. Broken.
…Exactly how she was feeling now.
When did that feeling begin? She’d felt it when Cinch had taken the amulet and when Aria had abandoned her. She felt it when she stole from Twilight, and every time she’d hurt her. She’d felt it when she hurt Fleur, too, and when Principal Cinch had placed her on academic probation. She’d felt it at the Battle of the Bands. She’d felt it when she was first banished to this world and, if she was being completely honest with herself, long before that, too.
Had she always felt this way?
She thought back to the hours spent pouring over books at the library. To walking in the mall. To lying curled up on a fluffy bed. To a delicate hand that fit so perfectly in her own.
To Twilight.
But there was more. Her morning routines with Sugarcoat. Her back-and-forths with Cadance. The few hours she’d spent in Aria and Sonata’s dorm room after the basketball game. None of those moments had been great triumphs or victories, yet they’d been perfect in their mundanity. Those times, Adagio realized, not when her plans came to fruition or when she revenged herself upon her enemies, those times were when she’d felt something… something more.
It was different than the rush that came with a flood of stolen magic. Magic was euphoric, all consuming, and, most of all, fleeting. It always left her wanting more, needing more, but no matter how much more she attained it had never been enough. The constant need for more had been what had forced the ponies of Equestria to banish her, what had lead to the loss of her magic in this world, and what had driven her to betray Twilight. It was like chasing something she could never catch, but to keep up she’d been forced to discard everything that wasn’t directly in pursuit of that singular want, and now she had nothing left to throw away.
It was killing her. She knew that, but could she really give it up? Could those small moments ever be enough? What would happen if she tried and failed?
It’s okay to be nervous, echoed Twilight’s voice. But being nervous doesn’t mean you’re going to fail.
Well, it couldn’t hurt to try. After all, what did she have to lose?
“I want to change,” said Adagio, both to Sunset Shimmer and to her murkey reflection staring back from the puddle beneath her. “I just don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” said Sunset, taking another step forward so that the pink umbrella was shielding them both from the heavy downpour. “And we can help, starting with getting you somewhere warm and dry.”
Normally, Adagio would have considered such an offer an act of pity (which, perhaps, it was) and refused it outright, but either her pride was as exhausted as her body or the thought of being somewhere warm was just too appealing, so she opted instead to keep her mouth shut as Sunset withdrew her phone from and placed a call.
“Hey,” she said, “it’s Sunset. I found her.”
Adagio was not privy to the other half of the conversation (or even the identity of the speaker) so she could only guess at what was being said from Sunset’s replies.
“Slow down! I’ll explain everything when we get back. We’re at Canterlot High, could you—really? Okay, good. We’ll be waiting out front. Yes. Yes, we’ll see you soon. Bye.”
Sunset terminated the call and returned the phone to her pocket. “Our ride’s on the way.”
Adagio didn’t respond. She was too tired, her every thought slow as if bogged down by doubt and confusion. The two girls waited, the crashing of raindrops on the umbrella and the grumblings of the sky above acting as white noise which helped stave off the deeply uncomfortable silence that hung between them until, finally, it was time to leave.
“She’s here,” said Sunset, extending a hand to Adagio to help her up.
Adagio took a moment to try to rise on her own. Her muscles screamed, her wet clothes felt like they were made of lead, and (she thought) the weight of her sins hung off of her like great, metal chains.
She couldn’t do this on her own.
Tentatively she reached her good hand forward, stopping before it reached Sunset’s.
Once last chance to give up, she thought, before closing her eyes, biting her lip, and taking Sunset’s hand. It wasn’t like Twilight’s hand; it was colder—though the weather could probably be blamed for that—and had its own share of calluses, but its grip was firm and unrelenting. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it didn’t need to be: Sunset pulled, and Adagio began to rise.
It took their combined might to pull Adagio’s weakened form to her feet, and when they did manage it she was forced to cling to Sunset like a child. It was humiliating, so much so that Adagio could do nothing more than cast her gaze downward in shame as the pair approached the waiting vehicle, and for that reason Adagio didn’t realize who was picking them up until she heard the shout.
“Adagio!”
It was Cadance.
Adagio’s eyes shot upward just in time to see the dean of Crystal Prep Academy leap out of the driver's seat of her car and make a mad dash towards her. Before Adagio even knew what was happening Cadance was upon her, pulling her into bone shattering hug.
“You’re freezing!”
Without a moment of hesitation Cadance whipped off her coat and wrapped it around Adagio’s shoulders. What lay underneath was a white blouse, a terribly thin thing that had no hope of protecting her from the elements. But she did it anyway.
“Cadance...” started Adagio, but she could manage no more. Her chest felt tight and her body was wracked with a barely contained sob. She was so ashamed for Cadance to see her like this—all the work she’d put in to help her only for Adagio to throw it away in a single day. What would she say when she found out what Adagio had done?
And yet, all those dark thoughts were second to another overwhelming feeling: relief.
Seeing Cadance was like a parting in the clouds, and though Adagio couldn’t even begin to understand, let alone explain it, it was undeniably true. The very sight of Cadance made Adagio feel lighter, and she clung to her coat like her life depended on it. Each time Adagio had been at her lowest, Cadance had appeared like a beacon to guide her back into the light, and now here she was to deliver Adagio once again.
“Sunset,” said Cadance, her voice filled with urgency. “Help me get her into the passenger’s seat.”
The two of them shepherded her into the car. Sunset climbed into the back seat while Cadance fussed over Adagio, pulling the jacket even tighter around her, strapping her in with the seatbelt, and turning the car’s seat warmers up to their maximum setting. Adagio was most thankful for the latter, slipping her good hand beneath her to help warm her frigid fingers and, unable to do the same for her injured hand, blew on it in a feeble attempt to achieve the same effect.
By this time, Cadance had returned to the driver’s seat and closed her door. Like Adagio, her hair was flat and dripping wet, and her blouse clung tightly to her skin, but she didn’t seem to notice. She watched Adagio with unhidden concern.
“What did I tell you about punching walls?”
Adagio’s breathing hitched, and what came out was some combination of a laugh and a sob. Tears fought their way back into her eyes and quickly began pouring down her cheeks, but the laughter kept coming. She must have looked crazed, but she couldn’t help it—she sat there, laughing and crying for what felt like an eternity.
All the while, Cadance and Sunset sat in silence. She couldn’t imagine what was going through their heads, nor, she guessed, could they begin to guess what was going on in hers.
But that wasn’t a surprise. Adagio wasn’t entirely certain, either.
Eventually, Adagio’s fit came to an end, and she joined the others in their quiet. It was only then that Cadance began to drive, and though Adagio didn’t know where they were headed, she felt strangely unconcerned about it. She knew she was in safe hands.
Adagio took a deep, shivering breath, and let it out. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth that surrounded her begin to creep inward to thaw her icy core.
Cadance’s voice roused Adagio from her slumber. How long had it been? Not long, she imagined, not if her aching body or lingering headache were any indication, but long enough to make her groggy and disoriented. She blinked and wiped her bleary eyes on her still-damp sleeve before casting her gaze once more out the window to try to determine where Cadance and Sunset had taken her.
They were parked in front of Twilight Sparkle’s house.
Her entire body tensed, drawing forth another burst of pain from her fingers. She cried out, grabbing her wrist with her good hand, squeezing her eyes shut, and gritting her teeth, hoping irrationally that any of these acts would lessen her agony.
“It’ll be okay,” said Cadance, her soothing tone almost enough to make Adagio believe her. “Shining Armor has a first aid kit inside. Sunset?”
“On it,” said Sunset, and while Adagio was still reeling the two of them got out of the car and moved around to her door. She knew it was necessary, that in her current state her legs would probably give out halfway to the house (if she made it that far), but that knowledge did nothing to dull the shame. What would it look like when the three of them came bursting through the door? Like a pair of kind strangers helping a poor, helpless child, or two wardens escorting an escaped criminal back to her cell?
No, she thought, not to her cell. To the scene of the crime.
They helped her out of the seat, flanking her as the trio made for the house. The wind had picked up again, rendering Cadance’s umbrella less than useless and forcing them to move quickly, but not so quickly as to risk slipping on the slick path. Adagio almost wished she had fallen—if she hit her head she might black out and not have to confront Twilight—but that would only be delaying the inevitable. She knew she had to face Twilight eventually… she just didn’t expect ‘eventually’ to be so soon.
The door was unlocked, thankfully. The last thing Adagio wanted to do was stand in the rain and wait for Twilight to come to her. Cadance ushered her through the porch, not even stopping for them to take off their shoes—not that it really mattered, the water dripping from Adagio’s hair alone was enough to drown a small animal. She heard voices and movement coming from somewhere in the house (the living room, she thought, or maybe the kitchen) as well as the sound of approaching footsteps. Adagio steeled herself and looked to the doorframe.
But it wasn’t Twilight Sparkle who stepped into view, but her brother.
“Shining,” said Cadance. Her tone was almost commanding in a way that took Adagio by surprise. “Go get the first aid kit, then meet us in the bathroom so you can take a look at Adagio’s hand.”
Shining Armor’s eyes darted to Adagio’s bloodied digits. His brow creased slightly, but rather than wasting time with questions he simply nodded at Cadance and disappeared back through the doorway, his quick exit revealing the lithe girl that had crept up behind him.
Adagio’s heart leapt into her throat. This time it was Twilight.
“Adagio!”
Her voice was laden with worry, but there was something else there, too… a small hesitation, a wavering. Conflict, maybe, or hurt.
Adagio couldn’t bear to look at her, afraid that Twilight’s expression would confirm the worst of her fears. She buried her gaze in the floorboards as Cadance led her deeper into the house.
“Twilight, go grab Adagio something dry to wear, okay?” asked Cadance, though it didn’t really sound like a question.
“O-okay,” stammered Twilight as they passed by her on their way to the bathroom.
“I’ll help,” said Sunset, who had fallen behind when they’d entered the house. Adagio had no illusions that it would take two of them to find her some dry clothes, rather Sunset was almost certainly going to fill Twilight in on what she’d learned spelunking in Adagio’s brain.
Adagio felt a wave of anger wash over her, but it was quickly tempered by guilt. Twilight was going to find out what she’d done anyway (if she hadn’t already figured it out on her own), and if Sunset told her then at least Adagio wouldn’t have to see the look on her face when it happened.
Not that imagining it was much better.
Cadance swept her into the bathroom, seating her on the lidded toilet before grabbing a small mountain of clean towels and beginning to wrap Adagio in them like she was some sort of still-living mummy. Shining Armor entered shortly after, carrying with him a small white box emblazoned with a red cross on the front. He knelt down before her, opening the box and removing bandages, gauze, and a small bottle that Adagio suspected contained the same stinging liquid Nurse Tough Love had tortured her with back on her first day at Crystal Prep.
“Now,” said Shining Armor, “your fingers don’t look broken, but I’m going to have to touch them to be certain. I’m not going to lie, it’s probably going to hurt. After that I’ll clean them up—that’s going to hurt, too—and then we’ll get some bandages on them. Okay?”
Adagio studied him. He wasn’t taking any pleasure in this, and as far as she could tell his warning wasn’t to scare her, but an honest attempt to prepare her for what was to come. She nodded, extending her arm which he took gently yet firmly by the wrist.
“Are you ready?” he asked. Adagio nodded again.
But she wasn’t ready.
The pain was blinding. She started to scream, but immediately devolved into a fit of haggard coughing. Cadance placed a hand on each of her shoulders, steadying her while Shining Armor continued his work.
“You’re okay,” said Cadance. “You’re okay. He’s almost done.”
Cadance had to repeat the mantra a few more times before Shining Armor was satisfied that there weren’t any breaks. Next, he moved on to cleaning Adagio’s cuts with the fluid from the bottle which, as she’d predicted, was exactly as unpleasant as she remembered it. Possibly even worse.
Seconds passed like eons, and by the time Shining Armor’s work was finished Adagio had devolved into a sniveling, wailing mess. He gingerly let go of her wrist, giving her a deeply apologetic look before rising and moving over the sink to wash his hands.
Adagio sniffled and wiped her face on one of the many towels Cadance had brought her. When she looked up she spotted Twilight, once again lingering in a doorway. Their eyes met and Adagio quickly looked away, but not before noticing how red and puffy Twilight's own eyes had been.
“I brought some pajamas,” said Twilight. “Right out of the dryer.”
Another pang of guilt wracked Adagio as the pajamas were handed to her and she recognized them to be the same pair she’d worn the night before.
Had it only been one night? It felt more like an eternity.
“We’ll give you some privacy while you get changed,” said Cadance, herding the others back into the hall. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything.”
And with that, Cadance ducked out, leaving Adagio alone once again in Twilight Sparkle’s bathroom. She could feel the mirror’s presence, but did everything she could to avoid looking at it. She knew what awaited her in its reflective surface and wanted no part of it, opting instead to get started on her most immediate problem: getting out of her drenched clothes.
She stood, wobbling a little but steadying herself on the vanity. Then came the tedious process of peeling off the waterlogged garments, a task made only more difficult when it needed to be done one-handed. She shed the pieces of her uniform one by one: her vest, her blouse, her skirt… her tights proved to be particularly troublesome but soon she was free of them, too, until finally the last remnants of her affiliation with Crystal Prep—with Aria, Sonata, and Abacus Cinch—lay in a soggy heap on the tiles below.
Compared to what had come before, donning the pajamas was relatively easy. The heat from the dryer still clung to them, and while that felt positively divine against her cold skin, the gloom that was settling in her head and her heart only deepened.
She didn’t deserve this. Not the cuts or the cold—she definitely deserved those—but the kindness. After everything she’d done to these people they’d taken her in out of the rain, bandaged her wounds, and clothed her. What she’d deserved was punishment, yet what she was getting was the exact opposite.
She looked to the door. A voice in her mind told her to be wary, that she would still be expected to explain everything to Twilight and Cadance, Sunset Shimmer and Shining Armor, and anyone else who might have been lurking in the house. If she was crafty (and lucky) perhaps she could make it through the incoming interrogation intact, sell herself as the victim and then—
I want to change.
For once, it wasn’t someone else’s voice echoing in Adagio’s head reminding her to do better, but her own. She was too tired to be crafty, and she was the furthest thing from lucky, but more than any of that she knew that listening to the other voice would lead her down the same path it always did. She’d trip over the same rocks and fall into the same holes, only this time there might not be someone there to pull her out.
She braced herself on the wall and took a step forward, then another, and another, until she reached the door. She grasped the doorknob, took a deep breath, and turned.
Cadance, Shining Armor, Twilight, and Sunset Shimmer were waiting for her in the hall.
Suddenly, Adagio felt very exposed. It wasn’t that Twilight’s pajamas were particularly revealing—quite the opposite, really—but something about wearing someone else’s clothes in someone else’s house with four sets of eyes boring into her made her deeply uncomfortable.
She recalled thinking a long time ago that any attention was better than no attention… oh, how things had changed.
Whether Cadance sensed her discomfort or was merely afraid she would pass out where she stood Adagio didn’t know, but either way she was thankful when Cadance draped a blanket over her shoulders and, once again, stayed close just in case Adagio lost her footing.
At the same time, Twilight had made a movement like she’d wanted to help, too, but stopped herself. Part of Adagio thought that this was for the best—Twilight’s noodle arms would do little if Adagio did fall—but a much smarter part chastised her for her naivete. A week ago, nothing would have stopped Twilight from being at her side. But now…
“The girls are waiting in the living room,” said Sunset, breaking the silence. “We should head in there so we can figure out what we’re going to do next.”
Cadance fixed Sunset with a stern look befitting the dean of Crystal Prep Academy. “Adagio needs rest, Sunset, can’t that wait until later?”
It would be a good excuse to put it off, but, for once, Adagio wasn’t looking for excuses.
“No,” she said, “let’s get it over with.”
Sunset nodded before turning and leading the way down the hall. Twilight’s eyes lingered on Adagio for a few seconds before she hurried to catch up.
“Are you sure?”
The firmness had melted out of Cadance’s voice, leaving only concern. Adagio didn’t look at her, unsure whether she could meet her gaze.
“Yeah,” said Adagio.
Shining Armor fell in behind them as they made their way to the living room. Adagio wasn’t sure if it was her own frailty that made the trip go so slowly, or whether it was her nerves taunting her, extending the long walk to meet the jury that would determine her fate so as to make it as unbearable as possible.
But it didn’t matter how long the journey took, because when Adagio rounded the corner into the living room she still wasn’t ready to face the Rainbooms.
They were all there. Adagio spotted Rainbow Dash first, leaning against a wall with her arms folded and one leg bent at the knee. Adagio had half expected her to leap across the room the moment she’d crossed the threshold, but she didn’t. She just stared, and somehow that was much, much worse.
Applejack sat in a hardback chair that had obviously been brought in from the kitchen. Raindrops still clung stubbornly to the brim of her hat, and Adagio wondered guiltily if she, too, had been out in the rain hunting for her. Would things have been different if it had been Applejack who had found her rather than Sunset?
Sunset herself, like Rainbow, was standing, though rather than lurking by a wall she looked as though she was ready to give a presentation. To her, this was less of a trial to determine Adagio’s guilt, and more of a staging ground for what came after. Sunset had promised to help her—and Adagio believed she would try—but it had been hard enough to convince the others to give Adagio a second chance the first time, and that had been before she betrayed them. Would these girls really help her? Could they?
Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Twilight all sat on the L-shaped couch. Fluttershy hid behind her long, pink hair, her one visible eye watching Adagio nervously. Out of all the Rainbooms, Fluttershy was probably the one whom Adagio had interacted with the least, and for that reason she had no idea what could be going on in the girl’s head, or how she might be judging her.
Pinkie Pie, for once in her life, was not smiling. That was a bad sign.
Rarity sat at one end of the couch, with Twilight on her right. She had one hand resting on Twilight’s knee in what must have been a gesture of comfort or consolation, but that set a pang of something straight through Adagio’s chest that made her heart stop for a moment and her breath catch in her throat.
And, finally, there was Twilight. She sat with her head down and her fingers laced together in her lap. She was the only one not looking at Adagio.
Due to the shape of the couch and the way the girls had spread themselves, for a moment Adagio thought she’d be forced to stand in the center of them, Rainbooms on all sides of her while she fought both to stand and to make her case. That was foolish, of course, and was immediately disproven as Cadance ushered her over the couch where the girls parted to make room. Either by design or coincidence, Adagio found herself sitting between Cadance and Twilight.
Then it got quiet. Adagio stared down at her knees, knowing that if she looked up she’d meet someone’s eye, and if she did that then she’d have to talk. Talking had rarely been a problem for Adagio in the past, weaving truths and lies together like a tapestry had been as natural for her as, well, singing, before the Battle of the Bands, anyway… though, in retrospect, that hadn’t exactly worked out for her. In any case, this time was different. This time, despite what the nagging voice in the back of her mind kept whispering to her, there would be no more lies. This time, she would tell the truth, and hope beyond all hope that they wouldn’t hate her for it.
All she had to do now was open her mouth.
The silence grew heavier with each passing second, but still Adagio’s jaw stayed locked stubbornly in place. She was being stupid, she knew that, but she couldn’t help it. As much as she told herself that she deserved whatever happened to her, that the ire and disgust of both the Rainbooms and of Cadance was the natural consequence of her actions, it didn’t change that fact that she dreaded it.
She felt herself starting to shake. She jammed her eyes shut, clenching her good hand and feeling her nails biting into the flesh of her palm. The voice got louder, screaming at her about all the terrible things that would happen. She felt all the eyes on her, just waiting to watch her screw up again. Her breathing became quicker, bordering on erratic as the war in her head reached a terrible crescendo and every nerve in her body demanded she fight or flee or—
And then she felt it. A sensation as intimately familiar as it was utterly impossible. All the noise in Adagio’s head came to an abrupt silence as she opened her eyes and saw what her body had refused to believe: a hand, Twilight’shand, placed carefully but deliberately on her own.
Adagio looked up. Twilight was looking right at her, and this time Adagio didn’t look away. She gazed into Twilight’s big, beautiful eyes, searching desperately for…
Twilight squeezed her hand.
Adagio didn’t yet know what it was she’d found in the depths of Twilight’s eyes, only that, whatever it was, it calmed her in a way she didn’t know was possible. Her breathing slowed, as did the trembling, and without thinking Adagio took Twilight’s fingers in her own and returned the squeeze.
It was going to be okay.
Sunset must have realized that this was as good an opportunity as she was going to get, as she cleared her throat to draw the attention of the rest of the group.
“There’s something going on at Crystal Prep,” she said. “Abacus Cinch is out for revenge, and she’s planning to use magic to get it—magic from the amulet Twilight used at the Friendship Games, which Cinch now has in her possession.”
A few glances were shot in Adagio’s direction, but Rainbow Dash was the only one who didn’t even try to hide it.
“To be perfectly honest, that’s pretty much all I know,” continued Sunset. “But I’m hoping Adagio can tell us a little more.”
She focused her attention directly on Adagio. “Tell us whatever you can,” she said, though it was more of a request than an order. “Anything that she said to you, anything about your time at Crystal Prep… we don’t know what we’re dealing with here, so anything you know or that you think might help could go a long way.”
There was something else there, too, unspoken but all too clear. Sunset was giving her the opportunity to explain herself, to tell her side of the story and help them understand what exactly had led them all here. This wasn’t just a chance to snitch on the dirty dealings of Abacus Cinch, it was a confession of Adagio’s sins, a real opportunity to put everything on the table and, if not start over, then start down a new, better path.
Adagio felt the warmth of Twilight’s hand and squeezed it one more time. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out.
She told them everything.
Once she started to speak it all just started to spill out. She told them about how she and the other Sirens had drifted around after the Battle of the Bands, and about how she’d been contacted by Abacus Cinch. She told them about the deal they’d made to exact their mutual revenge, and about how even then she’d plotted to turn on her benefactor. She told them about how Cinch had bent the rules to get them into the Academy, and about the naive young dean who’d shown them around, not knowing about their true purpose at the school.
She told them about that lonely first night—she hadn’t planned on it, but it had just sort of come out—and about Cinch’s ambush on her first day of classes. She told them about the academic probation and the ultimatum Cinch had faced her with, and even about her near collapse into despair.
She didn’t like talking about that, but by this point what she did and didn’t want to talk about had fallen away, replaced by the need to tell them. She told them about how Cadance, her beacon of light, had come to her rescue, and how the hand she’d extended to Adagio would lead her right to Twilight.
Twilight.
She talked a lot about Twilight, though how much of it was rambling she didn’t really know. She talked about how the plan had come together, though hearing it outloud Adagio couldn’t help but notice that the plan she’d clung to so desperately was never really a plan at all. She’d been bouncing around, too stubborn and foolish to look up from her own scheming to realize that she was out of control until it was much, much too late. It made her feel small and weak and stupid, but she kept talking anyway.
She talked about her struggles with Sonata and her falling out with Aria, culminating in the aftermath of Pinkie Pie’s party. She left out most of the details of the party itself, not wanting to drag Twilight back through that mess of memories when she was supposed to be talking about what she’d done. That might have been a mistake, because as the story grew closer and closer to the present her dread grew exponentially.
Finally, she reached the night before. She talked about finding the amulet, about how one little accident had changed everything. They already knew how that had turned out, but she told them anyway, unwilling or unable to give herself the luxury of skipping past her shame. She told them about the diner, about how she’d fixed the amulet, about returning to Crystal Prep, and about how she planned to run away for good.
She told them about Aria.
Finally, she told them about Cinch. About the betrayal. About being tossed out into the rain with nothing but her own failure and misery.
And that was it. Her voice, which had already been ravaged when she’d began her story, was hoarse and cracking by time she’d reached its end. Someone had brought her a glass of water at some point, but she was too nervous to drink it. She looked around at the inscrutable faces that surrounded her, wondering which of them would be the first to cast their condemnation.
She didn’t expect it to be Cadance.
“That woman!”
Cadance’s outburst was filled with anger and malice Adagio hadn’t though her capable of. She stood abruptly from her spot next to Adagio, her hands balled into fists at her side.
“Cadance—” started Shining Armor, taking a step towards her only to have her brush past him as she stormed across the room.
“I thought things couldn’t get worse after the Friendship Games, but this is a new low. First she turned the whole school against the girls who competed, now she’s breaking school rules and coercing students into meddling with dangerous magic so... what? She can fulfill a grudge against a bunch of kids? What a miserable, selfish, wrinkly old...”
Cadance stopped, her pacing having led her to the center of the room where eight shocked, impressionable young faces (as well as that of Shining Armor) waited for her next word.
“...hag,” she finished, smoothing her skirt with her hands and clearing her throat.
“Wow,” said Pinkie Pie.
Adagio stared at Cadance in stunned silence. She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved that all that rage was directed at Cinch instead of her, or fearful that she herself would be next on the chopping block.
“So, what are we sitting around for?” asked Rainbow Dash, taking advantage of the silence that had fallen in the wake of Cadance’s outburst. “Cinch has the amulet, right? Let’s just go to Crystal Prep and get it back!”
“We can’t—”
“You can’t—”
Sunset and Cadance responded simultaneously, before cutting themselves off. Perhaps not wanting to draw the dean’s ire, Sunset motioned for her to continue. Cadance complied.
“She might be horrible, but Abacus Cinch is not stupid. By now she’ll have the amulet hidden somewhere safe, and she’ll probably be expecting someone to come after it.”
Adagio pretended not to notice Cadance looking at her as she spoke.
“Besides, even if we did know where she was keeping it, she knows who all of you are. If you step one foot onto that campus she’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
“And it’s not just that,” said Sunset. “We know what happened last time the amulet overloaded on Equestrian magic. If we go in there and it steals our magic again, or if the other Sirens are able to use it...”
Rainbow Dash grunted, clearly not content with these answers. “So, what? We just sit around and do nothing while Principle Cinch does… whatever the heck she’s doing?”
“I bet she’s scheming,” said Pinkie Pie. “She always struck me as a schemer.”
“We’re not doing nothing,” said Sunset, “we’re just being careful. We’re going to figure out what her plan is, then—”
“How?” demanded Rainbow Dash.
“Rainbow,” said Applejack, her voice laden with warning.
“No!” argued Rainbow Dash. “It’s a totally reasonable question! How are we going to figure out what she’s up to if we can’t get anywhere near her without our magic being stolen or the cops showing up?”
“You can’t go to Crystal Prep, but I can.”
Every pair of eyes in the room fixed themselves on Cadance.
“I’ll try to figure out where Cinch is keeping the amulet, or at least figure out what she’s planning to do with it. I don’t have any magic to be stolen, and it would be more suspicious of the dean of Crystal Prep wasn’t at the school, wouldn’t it?”
There was a collective hesitation from the Rainbooms. Obviously none of them liked the idea of Cadance doing their dirty work for them.
And neither did Adagio.
“Cadance,” she rasped, “you can’t—”
“I have to,” said Cadance.
“Listen to me!” insisted Adagio. She turned, coughing into the crick of her elbow, but forced herself to continue. “If Aria uses the amulet you could be hurt! Or controlled!”
Cadance met Adagio’s desperation with a gentle smile.
“I know.”
Sensing that her answer had done nothing to put Adagio’s mind at ease, Cadance closed the distance between them, crouched down, and placed her hand once again on Adagio’s shoulder.
“Adagio,” she said, “when I became dean, the safety of every student who passes through the gates of Crystal Prep Academy became my responsibility. I know I haven’t done a very good job—I couldn’t protect you, Twilight, or the rest of the girls who competed in the Friendship Games from Principal Cinch—but that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to stop her from hurting any more of my students.”
Adagio looked at Cadance in disbelief. ‘Hadn’t done a good job’? Cadance was the one good thing that prison of a school had going for it! The very notion that Cadance thought she had somehow failed Adagio rather than the other way around ignited a fury within Adagio that, after everything she’d been through that day, she didn’t think was possible. She wanted to tell Cadance how wrong she was, to force the dean to see that she was far more than she was giving herself credit for. She wanted to tell her a million things, but she couldn’t. Her failing voice wouldn’t let her talk for another minute, let alone the hours it would take to express all the virtues Cadance had embodied in the brief time they’d known each other.
So, when words failed her, Adagio allowed her actions to do the talking.
She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Cadance and pulling her into the tightest embrace her feeble body would allow her. She buried her face in Cadance’s shoulder, her utter inexperience in giving hugs made her wonder if she was doing this right, but she pushed it away. At this distance, not even Adagio’s mangled voice could stop her from telling the dean the truth.
“You’re doing an amazing job,” she whispered.
Any stiffness that Cadance had been holding onto since the revelation of Adagio’s true history evaporated as she returned the hug, taking some of Adagio’s own fears with it. Cadance was still damp from the rain, but Adagio didn’t care. If she could share whatever heat still clung to her pajamas from the dryer with the dean she would do so in a heartbeat—anything to show her how important she really was. It wasn’t like hugging Twilight; the few times she and Twilight had embraced, she’d felt something… something she didn’t understand. With Cadance it was different: no confusion, just safety. Warmth. Understanding.
Adagio didn’t know how long the hug lasted, only that it ended too early when she succumbed to another fit of coughing. Cadance rubbed her back gently, waiting for it to subside before standing up and addressing the room.
“Okay,” she said, “I don’t think there’s anything else we can accomplish here tonight. We all need time to process, and more than that Adagio needs to rest and recover.”
“I could go get a pillow from my room,” offered Twilight, but Cadance shook her head.
“Siren or not, and no matter what Abacus Cinch has to say about it, Adagio is still my student, and that means she’s my responsibility. She can stay with me.” Cadance looked at Adagio. “If that’s what she wants.”
The very notion of accepting Twilight’s hospitality after what Adagio had done to her was almost too unbearable to even imagine, but staying with Cadance?
“I do,” croaked Adagio.
“Good,” said Cadance. “Just two rules before we make it official. Number one: no punching walls.”
Adagio nodded.
“And number two: no lies.” Cadance smiled, lighting up the room around her. “Sound good?”
