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.
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.
“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, Principle 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.
“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.”
“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 Principle 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, Principle 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?” 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 Principle 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 Principle 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.
“…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-”
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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.”
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.
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.
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 Principle 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,
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.
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?”
“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 Principle 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.”
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 Principle 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, Principle 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.
Principle 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 Principle Cinch’s cold eyes bore into her own. After nearly a minute had passed, Principle 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.”
Principle 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 Principle 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 Principle 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 Principle Cinch say how long you had to get your grades up?”
“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’ 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.”
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…
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.
“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 Principle 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 Principle’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.
“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!”
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, Principle 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 Principle 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 Principle 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, Principle 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.
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 Principle 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?”
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–
Principle 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 Principle Cinch out of the classroom, feeling the burning gaze of the other girls as she walked. Principle 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 principle 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?”
Principle 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 principle’s heels was not but a distant memory before she risked breathing a sigh of relief. Principle 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? Principle 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 Principle 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.”
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?”
“Either of them.”
“The first one broker her glasses, but she was okay. The girl I tripped broke her wrist.”
“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–”
“–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.”
“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.
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 Principle 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.
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?”
“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.
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.
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 crowed 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.
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’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.
“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?”
“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.
“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.
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?”
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 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.
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 buts!” said Twilight, silencing Adagio’s oppisition. “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.”
“Well alright then. Have a good night, girls.”
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.”
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.”
“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–
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, Principle 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 Principle 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 principle 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 Principle 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.
“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.
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 hold 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.
‘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.
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…”
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 made 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.
“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.”
“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.
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?”
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.
“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!”
“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…”
“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.”
“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.
“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.”
“And you’re certain she didn’t try to sing for you?”
“Not even a note?”
“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…
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.
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.
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.”
“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.”
“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…
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.”
“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?”
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.”
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?”
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 Principle 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. Principle 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.
Adagio sighed. “I think that Friendship Magic gave you brain damage,” she muttered, quickening her pace.
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 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.’
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.’
‘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.
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.
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 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, Principle 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 principle 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,” 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.”
“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 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 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 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.
‘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, 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.
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.
“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.”
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,” 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.”
“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 the bandages had been taken her hand.
“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.”
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!”
“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…
“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.
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–”
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.
“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.”
Timber wiped his face with his sleeve, leaving behind an unmistakable trail of moisture.
“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.
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.
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:
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…
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.
“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.
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 her 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 bring 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.
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 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.
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.
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.”
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.
“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.
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.
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?”
“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 think 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.