Starlight invites herself back to the human world, and asks Sunset to come along. Anything and everything that follows is entirely on their shoulders. Or maybe not.
"Hey, it's Starlight. Meet me at your portal in an hour. I'm coming over."
Sunset Shimmer was enjoying a completely ordinary day when those words appeared in her journal.
Whether or not it will stay ordinary... well, they'll have to play that one by ear.
Sunset Shimmer sat in her bed on a quiet, relaxing spring afternoon, reading one of the most enjoyable books she'd had the pleasure of discovering in quite some time.
The book was about swashbuckling lady pirates—specifically, one by the name of Captain Celaeno, and her all-girl crew. Celeano was the most dashing woman to sail the six seas, with a sense of style that gave Daring Do a run for her money, by even A.K. Yearling's own admission.
Needless to say, upon hearing that sort of endorsement, Sunset had borrowed the book from Pinkie—who had, in turn, borrowed it from a girl she and Rarity still sometimes babysat. Given that Sunset was reading a hard-bound novel right now, she couldn't help but note that Lily Pad was very well-read for her young age.
That said, Sunset wasn't wasn't sure her own reading would last much longer. She was still only in the middle of the book, yet things had already taken a turn for the unexpectedly dire.
Celaeno couldn't believe it. The passenger she had taken on—out of the kindness of her heart, no less!—had just betrayed the entire crew, allowing the Evil Emperor's navy to locate and board their ship. Celaeno and her crew fought valiantly, but in the end, the Emperor's ranking stooge, General Ravioli, had managed to overwhelm them.
"Well, now," Ravioli said, straightening the lapels of his white suit as he stared at Celaeno, who was tied to one of her ship's masts. "Any last words before the great General Ravioli does what no one else in the world could?"
Celaeno's brown jacket and green hair flapped in the breeze, as she stared at Ravioli through amused, challenging eyes. "Can I have a last meal, instead? Seriously, every time you remind me who you are, it just makes me hungry."
"Hah! We'll see how much lip you have when you're made to walk your own plank!" Ravioli drew his sword, inching it menacingly close to Celaeno's neck...
Sunset scooted backwards, against the headboard of her bed, biting her nails as the words on the page blurred together. How could Celaeno possibly get out of this? Nothing had been able to touch her so far!
Sunset took a deep breath, preparing to dive back into Celaeno's world, when a harsh buzzing sounded to her side. Sunset looked left, to see another hard-bound book on her nightstand. The cover bore one half of her own cutie mark, with the second half belonging to someone quite special and welcome to her.
Usually welcome, anyway. Right now...
Sunset sighed and rolled her eyes. She loved Princess Twilight, really, she did, but she was becoming increasingly certain that Twilight was, in truth, bearer of the Element of Terrible Timing. She considered not opening the journal until later. But if it was an emergency...
Chastising herself for having a conscience, Sunset closed one book, and opened another. Fourteen solitary words greeted her.
"Hey, it's Starlight. Meet me at your portal in an hour. I'm coming over."
Sunset read the sentence, nodded, put down the journal, climbed down the ladder from her bed, then wandered over to her closet to pick out what to wear.
She then froze in place upon realizing just what had transpired.
With a wide-eyed gasp, she scrambled back up to the bed, and reopened the book. She grabbed a pen and furiously scrawled her response:
"Does Twilight know?"
The book's page shone for several seconds before a plain and simple, "Nope." appeared. Sunset was about to write back when the page shone again, and another two sentences followed. "I mean, hundred percent chance of her finding out when she sees this. Is erasing a thing with this book?"
Sunset chuckled with a half-smile. "Nope."
"Of course not. Also, just remembered I'm writing this with a quill and ink. Wow, I really did not think this through. Maybe if I hide—"
"Do not hide the journal, Starlight. Also, keep in mind that everything you're writing right now is an indelible and undeniable record."
No reply followed—at least not with words. Sunset wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a couple of dents appear on the page, one after the other. They disappeared just as quickly, however. Maybe it was her imagination. She wrote some more. "Why do you have Twilight's journal, anyway?"
"She said I could use this for emergencies," Starlight wrote back.
Sunset tensed. Her intuition had been right after all. Instantly, she went into Business-Handling Mode. "Got it. What's wrong? Who's in danger? What villain's threatening Equestria this time? Or is one coming to my world?"
Several seconds passed. "No bad guys, Equestria's fine. Nothing to worry about there."
Sunset deflated, doing her best to not get angry. Still, if there was one thing she hated, it was her time being wasted. "Starlight. Get to the point."
And Starlight did. All of them. At once.
"Sorry Sunset I'm so sorry sweet Celestia I am really messing this up I honestly don't know what to do here I thought hey I'll just get the book that lets me talk to Sunset she'll get it and it'll be fine but I didn't have any plan beyond that and this was a dumb idea forget any of it even happened I'll just close the book and wait until Twilight comes back in a month"
"Wait, hold on." Sunset interrupted Starlight's torrent of hoofwriting. "A month?"
"Oh. Yeah. She's overseeing the construction of an annex to the Friendship School a few towns over. She'll be away for a while. The other faculty are running things just fine, and I should be joining them, but..."
Sunset decided to take a stab in the dark. "This emergency's with you, isn't it?"
A whole book-glowing minute passed before Starlight's reply. "Can I come over?"
Sunset nodded. "I'll meet you at the portal. Give me an hour, though, yeah. It'll take me about that long to get dressed and ready."
"Okay. See you soon. Also... thanks."
Sunset closed the book, sitting silently in her room.
It appeared Captain Celaeno would have to wait a while longer.
Fifty minutes later, Sunset stood in front of Canterlot High School's horse statue.
Though it was Saturday, the school remained open for sports team practice and other weekend extracurriculars. Sunset knew this in part due to the students walking around, and because she'd just turned down Rainbow Dash's invitations to watch the soccer team's scrimmages three times in as many minutes. In the end, she'd only managed to appease Rainbow with a promise to attend the next three home games.
With that out of the way, Sunset turned her attention back to the base of the statue, where the portal between worlds was contained. She used to worry about how much of a problem that would present, having a gateway between dimensions hiding in plain sight. Fortunately, this world's Twilight Sparkle, in the spirit of friendship—and a ravenous hunger for exclusive knowledge—had volunteered to put Sunset's fears to rest by running an extensive battery of tests. Using several detectors and measuring gadgets of Twilight's own design, in conjunction with Juniper Montage's arsenal of film studio-grade video cameras, they were able to deduce the reasons why no one had noticed said portal, even now.
First: As near as any of them could conclude, the portal was able to "sense" someone's desire to engage with it. Which meant they had to know the portal was even there in the first place, be fully aware of its purpose, and then, after both those criteria were met, expressly want to use it. Only then would it activate.
Second: Without that desire in play, it was impossible for people to see travelers coming into or out of the portal. To the untrained eye, if someone went through the portal, they were there one moment, gone the next—and vice versa.
In other words, the portal worked much like the magical two-way journal currently powering it, both in terms of usage and how words appeared on its pages. It was a little shaky, but it checked out—Sunset saw students leaning against the base of the statue all of the time, yet none of them had ever fallen in.
She still remembered the meeting she'd had with both Twilights regarding the phenomenon. Princess Twilight said that most connection-based magic, especially the Elements of Harmony, worked in a similar fashion, therefore seeing something like this at play wasn't surprising. Needless to say, none of that had flown with the human, scientific Twilight, trained since she was little to trust in verifiable evidence based on a completely different universe's set of physics laws. A back-and-forth lecture-off regarding the sapience potential of magic—and science!—promptly ensued between the two girls... until the both of them caught Sunset staring.
And she would have gotten away with it, too, if not for the slack-jawed expression. The drool likely hadn't helped, either. Even thinking back on it now, though, Sunset still had no regrets. The whole thing had been ador(k)able beyond words. Still, even with Twilight's misgivings, the aforementioned conclusions had held true for over a year now, which was a huge weight off of Sunset's shoulders.
And it meant that right now, the only portal-related entity Sunset had to worry about was still five minutes off.
How long had she been contextualizing life as just moving from one worry to the next, anyway? Was this all the concepts of Friendship and Having A Conscience held in store for her? Would things simply always be like this?
As she continued to dwell on these questions, she felt her brain sinking into a familiar, mushy fog—one she'd by now trained herself to deal with. Sunset took out her phone, opened her notes, and skipped to the entry labeled "Life Reminders". In case of mental or emotional emergencies, this entry was the breakable glass.
And the extinguisher she needed was, fortunately, a few lines down:
"Just take things as they come, and trust things will work themselves out in the end. If you spend too much time worrying about the bad things that might happen, you'll miss out on all the good things that are happening."
There it was.
Sunset lowered her phone, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths. Good things were happening, right now. A good friend was coming over whom she didn't get to see often, and that friend had thought of Sunset above anyone else, which flattered Sunset quite a bit.
It was also the same friend who had given her the advice she'd just read, on the first day they'd met. Sunset hoped Starlight was okay. But if anything bad did come up, she decided that they would face it together.
The moment her mind and heart expressed that sentiment, she heard the shimmering sound of otherworldly magic, brushing against her ears like someone playing the world's most faraway instrument. She positioned herself in front of the statue, just in time to see one side of its base turn from solid rock into rippling waves. Sunset braced herself.
A lavender girl emerged from the statue-portal with a hapless yelp, and with a speed which used to surprise Sunset, once upon a time, but was now routine. The girl stumbled into Sunset's waiting hands, shoulders first. Sunset gripped them tightly, stabilizing the newcomer.
Starlight Glimmer slowed to a stop, exhaled, and looked up. When she realized who was holding her, she smiled. "Oh. Wow. I totally forgot to warn you in the journal that I might need a soft landing, but here you are. Neat."
Sunset smiled in kind, then stepped back to allow Starlight to wipe off her torn jeans, straighten her vest and felt beanie, and do some two-legged balance checks. "Yeah, the portal doesn't really care who enjoys the ride. This happens to pretty much everybody, so the Twilights and I developed a system: no cross-world pitching without a catcher at the other end." Sunset looked at her phone again. "Nice job getting here in exactly one hour, by the way. Fitting for a student of a certain someone I know." Her smile turned sly as she cast a teasing leer at Starlight.
Starlight sighed mock-dramatically, and rolled her eyes. "Some of Twilight's neurotic quirks got drilled into me despite my best efforts—as if I didn't have enough of my own already. Punctuality's one of the more useful ones, I suppose."
"I guess," Sunset said with an over-dramatic snort. "If you're small time. I was here ten minutes early, though."
"Wha—" Starlight did a double-take. "Are you seriously... you live here!" she sputtered with outstretched arms.
"And you live in the same castle as the thing that brought you here. Sunset crossed her arms in reply, and nodded towards the portal. "I get in trouble with this world's governments if they find out I use this thing."
"Whoa, no kidding?" Starlight met Sunset's playfully smug grin with a wide-eyed, incredulous expression. "So do I."
A staring contest ensued in the silence. Onlooking students passed by in their peripheral vision. They stood like that, gazes locked, for an eternity that lasted a minute.
Then their faces crumpled as they both burst out laughing. They leaned side-by-side against the statue, riding out their mirth, and drawing more onlookers—not that Sunset cared.
Eventually their laughter died down, and the students stopped paying attention to them. "Hey," she just barely heard Starlight say. "Are... hugs okay?"
Hearing Starlight actually ask lit up a tiny bulb of worry in the back of her mind, but she suppressed it. Later. When it was relevant. Without hesitation, Sunset stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around Starlight in a warm, gentle cradle.
"Hugs are always okay," Sunset whispered in Starlight's ear.
It wasn't long before Sunset felt Starlight embrace her as well—cradling her just as close, and resting her head on Sunset's shoulder.
"Thanks," Starlight whispered back.
In the quiet of the afternoon, Sunset decided that this was yet another good thing.
"Still, no worries," Sunset said. "I'm always happy to see you. So long as you're not on the run from your princess-slash-mentor. Been there, done that, doesn't really end well even after you take a rainbow to the face... you know what? Let's get out of here." Sunset turned around and started walking, beckoning for Starlight to follow. "So, what brings you over? Heck, what's so urgent that you practically served me a summons?"
Starlight shuffled close to Sunset, her hands in her pockets, as both girls walked the length of Canterlot High School's campus and towards its rear parking lot. "I... just need a vacation. At least that's what everyone tells me."
Sunset thought back to her more recent correspondences with Princess Twilight. "Right. You're still the guidance counselor for her new school, aren't you? How's that going?"
Starlight's face lit up. "Oh, it's perfect for me! A little too perfect." The light was then gone as quickly as it had appeared. Starlight sighed, gesturing with her hands. "Which is a long story in itself, to go along with the long story of why I apparently need a vacation, and I'm still trying to figure out how to put that story into words so I don't look more like a total idiot for coming here than I'm sure I already do—"
Sunset stopped and placed a hand on Starlight's shoulder. "First off, I don't see any idiocy around here. Second..." Sunset took a stab in the dark on a hunch. "Have you ever had a vacation before?"
Starlight shook her head. Sunset hated her hunches. They were all too often correct in the worst ways.
"It's not like I haven't tried? It's just..." Starlight squeezed her wrist. "Hard for me. Whenever I do try, it doesn't... click. It never has. For reasons which are also part of why I'm here." Starlight clutched her forehead with one hand. "And now just talking about taking one makes things worse."
"Hey, don't feel bad." Sunset gently lowered Starlight's wrist before taking hold of both. "I have to convince Twilight that they're not just a huge waste of time, either. Both of them, now that you mention it."
That brought a giggle out of Starlight. "Well, that explains a whole bunch of things."
"You have only some idea. Fortunately, I've taken plenty of vacays, some with permission. So, Vacation Rule #1: from here on out, we take it slow, you especially. Not everything has to... how do I put this... matter. You don't need to have a plan for what to do or where to go, you don't need to answer to anyone but yourself, and you don't need to figure out the perfect words to tell me why you need a vacation. Just tell me how you feel. Raw, with as much bad grammar as you want." She squeezed Starlight's wrists, smiling into her eyes. "And I'll listen."
Starlight smiled back, gushing silently. "Mangling the Equestrian language for fun and healing, huh? That sounds... weird, yet oddly fun."
The two surveyed their surroundings, with Sunset noting that they were close to the school field. Students still milled about, creating a fair amount of noise. "I don't suppose we can talk about it somewhere that's more relaxing, less distracting?" Starlight asked.
Sunset's grin grew wider. "Somewhere you can slouch as far down as you can put your legs up?"
Starlight grinned. "Please and thank you! Which way's your house?"
"Not far, and that's a pretty great suggestion." Sunset's eyes glinted. "But I know the one place in Canterlot City that'll work even better for us."
It only took a few more minutes of walking for Sunset and Starlight to reach the school parking lot. Sunset strode forward to her vehicle, but realized she was alone a few steps in.
She looked back to see Starlight, darting from one parked automobile to another, with awestruck gapes and stares. The latter repeatedly placed her hands on glass windows as she looked through them, while poking and prodding at paint jobs.
"What are these things again?" Starlight finally asked. "The last time I was here, they were always moving, and we were always running away from them."
Sunset walked over. "That's because they're death machines in motion for anyone not inside them. We call them 'cars'. They're a lot like the magi-trains in Equestria, but they only fit a few people—or, ooh!" She snapped her fingers. "Think of the carriages in Manehattan, only ponies don't need to pull them, because they're powered by—"
"Oh, I know this one, Twilight taught me! This is technical logging!" Starlight darted towards a car's chassis, peering at it with wide eyes. "I never knew lumber held this much power," she whispered, her tone as mystified as her expression.
Sunset giggled. "'Technology', actually. It's humans' way of getting by without magic. Which involved them using the earth's resources to create a sort of magic of their own, honestly. And since Twilight isn't around, I can actually say that out loud and she can't can stop me." She folded her arms, nodding in triumph.
Starlight gasped. "You mean... this is what earth pony magic looks like?"
Sunset's triumphant expression unfurled, and she blinked. "Actually, that's... not a bad theory at all. We should totally look into it later."
"This is so cool though!" Starlight squealed, bouncing on her toes. "Okay, are we going to use one of these to go somewhere? How do we use them?" She tugged at a minivan's door latch. The second she did, an ear-splitting noise blared across campus. Starlight cried in surprise, and ran to Sunset, hiding behind and gripping her friend's shoulders. "What did I do? How do I make it stop? If I had my horn that thing would be dust already!"
"Just wait a minute," Sunset said over the noise of the alarm. "It'll be fine."
The two did so. Starlight held her ears shut with her palms. Sunset stood with her hands in her pockets while tapping her foot. True to Sunset's word, the noise died down after exactly one minute, with three punctuating chirps.
"Oh. There it goes." Starlight said. "Whatever that terrible thing was."
"You triggered the alarm," Sunset said. "It's meant to prevent anyone from trying to steal a car." She winked at Starlight. "Or, you know, turning it into dust."
Starlight looked around, noting several nonplussed students and teachers. "But no one paid attention to it the whole time it was going off!" Starlight tilted her head, lifted her beanie, and scratched her scalp. "Huh. I guess it worked."
Sunset laughed. "I am so glad you're here."
Starlight's grin was lopsided. "So am I—though I'm starting to wonder if I should be scared of as to why."
Starlight exhaled and slouched, her breathing slowing back to normal. "All right, so. Now that that's over: which car is ours?"
"None of them," Sunset said. "Our ride's over here." She gestured with one hand towards her motorcycle, sporting an orange-trimmed black paint job. Silver frame components gleamed in the sunlight, though without any overpowering glare.
As Sunset expected, Starlight looked upon its majesty... and returned a blank expression. "All right, guess we're doing this all over again." She pointed at the vehicle. "What's that?"
"This is my motorcycle. It's..." Sunset searched her brain for analogies, then went out on a limb, based on some of her more casual conversations with Princess Twilight. "...kind of what our Scootaloos ride, but you sit instead of stand."
The venture paid off. Starlight snapped her fingers. "Ohhhh, I got it! Wow, I didn't think your Scootaloo also—" Starlight froze and gasped loudly, slapping her hands to both cheeks. "Sweet helpless Celestia," she whispered.
Sunset stepped towards Starlight, reaching out a hand in concern. "Are... you okay?"
"Two Scootaloos," Starlight intoned. "Because two worlds. Two of everything and everyone," she said, wildly gesticulating. "That's why you let me come along the first time, because you said you hadn't 'seen me' here, and I thought that was strange for someone to say but this also explains why there are other versions of Twilight's friends here and why Princess Twilight and I also had to smuggle basically clones of the pony versions of us through the mirror that one time she tried to explain it to me but I just kept asking her more questions about the nature of existence and eventually she just gave up!" She gasped for breath for several moments before adding, "Wow. It really was as simple as she said it was. I should apologize."
"Wait." Sunset gaped. "You're... just now getting all this?"
"Hey, now," Starlight said with a nodding smile. "I think very deeply about these sorts of things." She sighed, and rolled her eyes. "And... everything else. Just add that to the list of reasons why I'm here. I'll explain, I promise. If you're ready for a long story at this point."
"Are you kidding? It's only been fifteen minutes and I can't wait for this doozy." Sunset took Starlight's hand. "That aside, though? If you have any other questions about this world, just ask me. I've got all the time in the world to humor them. And anything I don't know the answer to, I'll just... say I don't." She shrugged and chuckled.
"Why, thanks, that's awfully sweet of you." Starlight put the back of her hand to her forehead, tilting as if on stage. "Oh, Goddess Sunset, what ever would I do without you?"
Sunset laughed. "Let's hope we never have to find out. Anyway, to rewind, yes. Two of everyone. Well, most people. I've never seen another you here, or, confusingly, another me. Also, this world's Scootaloo's experimenting with hover boards right now."
As she saw Starlight raise her finger and open her mouth to speak, Sunset quickly continued, "Definition later, I promise. Otherwise we'll be in this parking lot forever, and I don't know anyone who could stand that." She grabbed twin helmets—one orange, one lavender—from the motorcycle's trunk, tossed Starlight the latter, and fastened her own. "Ready to go?"
Starlight put on her helmet, fastened it, and nodded.
"Awesome." Sunset mounted the bike, patting its painted front, her usual warm sense of owner's pride washing through her. With a lick of her lips, she turned on the ignition, then pointed to the climbing pegs on the left side of the bike, tracing a path to the rear end of the seat. "Climb on behind me, when you're ready, and don't let go for anything."
"O-okay." Gingerly, Starlight approached the motorcycle, and slowly climbed on, following Sunset's instructions as she talked Starlight through it. By the time both had gotten comfortable, Sunset decided her engine was more than warm enough.
Mischief bubbled up from within Sunset, and she gave herself permission to indulge. She held the clutch, and twisted the throttle, revving the engine to a tangible, vibrating roar. Instantly she heard Starlight squeal, felt her hold Sunset tighter.
Starlight's next words were heavy breaths in Sunset's ear. "You say you... use this all the time?"
"Uh-huh," Sunset said with a knowing grin as she tapped coordinates into her phone's GPS. "How's it feel?"
She looked back at Starlight, to see the latter licking her own lips, and gazing through Sunset, towards and quite possibly past the horizon.
Cars were perfectly Fine(tm) for status and utility, and maybe she'd want one in the future. But for now, and for her, they were they big, bulky, and impersonal.
The day she'd ridden her first motorcycle, however... well, that had been her first taste of magic that Equestria could never offer.
She couldn't weave between other cars while driving the same, or ride in lanes where they couldn't follow. She couldn't feel the near entirety of a car pressed against herself, as if it were a powerful, liberating extension of her body responding to her every move.
In a car, she couldn't find ways to drive for a half-hour, without interruptions or slowdown, as she had just now. It took ducking into a few back roads along the way, but it was the tiniest price to pay to be able to enjoy unlimited speed, unlimited wind, and unlimited zen, for as long as she wanted.
And yet, quite possibly most importantly, in a car it was impossible for her to enjoy such zen in combination with the comforting feel of the arms of a good friend wrapped around her midsection, and their body pressed close behind. It was something that she always realized she missed whenever it wasn't happening—in a car, on a bus, or even just walking down the street.
Sometimes, it was on purpose. When she needed to be alone, Sunset would simply get on her bike, alone, and drive to secluded places where she could take as much time as needed to re-center herself—if the process of getting there hadn't accomplished it already. But riding with a passenger, especially one she cared about and trusted, always brought forth both an immense amount of adrenaline and relaxation. Because, for as long as the ride lasted, that friend trusted Sunset implicitly to keep them safe, and held on as closely as possible to do so.
The feeling of having someone depend on her, while being able to be genuinely useful to them at the same time...
Sunset bit her lip as she admitted to herself that perhaps she did have a... penchant of sorts. Especially since her world's Twilight was a passenger quite often—often by Sunset's request, whenever the two wanted to go somewhere to hang out, or just needed a ride to school in a hurry.
She could only hope Twilight didn't suspect any ulterior motives.
===
The phone mounted on the front of the bike sounded that their destination was close. Sunset found a nearby public parking lot that she knew well by this point, and slowed to a stop within. She cut the engine, took off her helmet, and looked behind herself upon feeling Starlight letting go of her waist. "We're here," she said. "You doing okay back there?"
She saw Starlight take off her own helmet, and take deep breaths, getting her bearings after her very first ride. Sunset didn't blame her one bit.
"That was... intense," Starlight said amidst breathy giggles. "Seriously, everything was going by so fast—and those turns! I definitely see what Scootaloo does in these kinds of things now." She dismounted the bike first, wobbling as she touched the ground. "W-whoa! Portal, take two, here!"
Sunset dismounted quickly and braced Starlight. "Yeah, disorienting for the first few seconds. You get used to it."
Starlight regained her balance, and looked up and around herself with a gasp. Surrounding them were far taller buildings than the ones that were around them near Canterlot High—or, for that matter, likely in Equestria as well, Sunset surmised.
"We left the suburbs behind a while back," Sunset said. "Now we're in downtown Canterlot City. Follow me," she said, beckoning towards a sidewalk.
Starlight followed, continuing to look around while keeping pace beside Sunset. "This is certainly different from Equestria's Canterlot," she said, as the two walked down the sidewalk in the fading light of the late afternoon. "Way more lights, and I'm pretty sure every building here is about as tall as the Princesses' castle."
Sunset chuckled. "Yeah, it's a huge change. Blew my mind too. Even now, I haven't seen anything in both worlds quite like it. By which I mean, I used to compare this place to Equestria's Manehattan... but then I saw this world's Manehattan." She whistled. "Makes this place look like the suburbs."
"I... can't even imagine that at the moment." Starlight said. As she and Sunset weaved between other passersby on the street, Sunset proactively took her hand to make sure the both of them didn't get separated. "Whew, thanks. Even this is a lot to take in."
"I completely understand," Sunset said, as the two rounded the corner, and walked the length of a few more buildings. Sunset then stopped in front of a large, polished wooden door, sporting a faux-tree bark pattern. "Don't worry, though—we're about to take in some atmosphere that's exactly the opposite."
"That's... not too high a bar," Starlight said, casting another look at the surrounding tall structures. "One nature-themed door qualifies as a complete change of pace for this city almost all by itself."
"Point taken," Sunset said. "Still, when you first came here, I was ready to take you someplace like Sugarcube Corner, or Canterlot Mall, or even maybe one of the schools, so you could meet some of the others. You know, do the usual whole 'mass friendship' thing." Sunset shrugged. "Pinkie wouldn't have let you escape without a massive party. The louder, the better."
Starlight sucked in her teeth. "Yeeeaaah, good point. Thanks for swerving that. I mean, I'm definitely okay with doing all that stuff later? After... you know."
"Right. Healing first, for as long as that takes. Then back into the world." Sunset placed her hand on Starlight's shoulder as the two shared a mutual smile.
"I'm going to run out of ways to thank you for this. Still, if we're not doing any of those things you just mentioned..."
Sunset turned the knob to the wooden door, pushed it open, and gestured for Starlight to walk inside. Starlight did so—then, moments later, ran back out. She looked left, she looked right, she looked up, then went back in. The door closed again.
Then she poked her head back out the door, looked outside again, looked inside again... and, finally, met Sunset with a mock-accusing glare.
"You... did that on purpose," Starlight said with wide eyes. "You totally knew what was in here. Also, wow, you weren't kidding."
With a satisfied grin, Sunset shrugged again, and followed Starlight inside.
===
The mixed aromas of coffee beans, tea, liquor and honey wafted past Sunset's nostrils as she entered, and closed the door behind herself. She could tell Starlight smelled it too, though, fortunately, it didn't seem to put her off. If anything, Sunset could see Starlight wander a short distance, attempting to follow the scents to their source for a short while—before realizing that they were coming from everywhere, and giving up.
Next to tickle Sunset and Starlight's senses were the pianos, horns, and saxophones, all echoing in slow, lilting, bluesy jazz numbers—typical for the establishment.
Finally, Sunset's eyes adjusted to the low light, allowing her to take in what Starlight had already glimpsed. It'd been a while since even Sunset had been here, and she could thus see that the owner had redecorated somewhat, but the overall motif was still unmistakable.
The indoor was set up to look like the inside of a hollowed out tree, with its walls decked out with pictures of famous musicians and meticulously crafted tribal masks, and its shallow counters accessorized with vintage colored bottles and cans of all manner of drinks, from coffees to soft drinks to spirits.
Woven baskets adorned the floor. Sacks and gourds hung from above to accentuate the foliage lining the ceiling. And along the walls were ornate booths, sporting large, roomy felt fabric-lined seats that Sunset knew were the most comfortable Starlight would have the pleasure of sitting—no, slouching in.
Sunset took Starlight's hand, motioning to a polished wooden bar countertop to their immediate northeast, in the same faux-oak style, and adorned with several liquid-filled bottles and drink-mixing machines. Inscribed on the wall above the counter was the unmistakable, minimalist insignia of a black spider, in the same decorative style as the wall masks.
"Why does this... look so familiar?" Starlight whispered. "And why can't I place it no matter how hard I try?"
"Probably because even in Equestria, you've only been here once or twice. Starlight Glimmer," Sunset said, "welcome to Zecora's."
It had only been a week since Sunset Shimmer's loss to Princess Twilight Sparkle.
And yet, Sunset felt as if she'd been defeated a hundred times over.
She wandered the building-laden streets of Canterlot City, amidst the rain and autumn leaves, shuffling one foot in front of the other, as she had been for the last...
...actually, just how long had she been doing this?
No. Sunset stopped herself from asking questions. Any questions. All questions. One foot in front of the other. Count the steps. Make a game out of it, if you had to.
But whatever you do, don't ask where you are. Don't think about where you might be going.
Don't do anything that will lead to having to make a decision.
Decisions, for the entirety of last week, had been dangerous. And they still were.
Sunset stared at the ground, boring holes in front of her feet with her eyes. One step. Next step. Think about nothing else. Thinking leads to questions. Questions lead to having to weigh pros and cons, positives and negatives, stopping for consideration, instead of moving forward, always forward, towards the greatness for which she was destined.
Even now, in her lowest of moments, she was Sunset Shimmer, and her dawn would come again, without any help from others.
Without any so-called "friends."
but friends could make that dawn come faster—
No!
Sunset stopped where she was, leaned against a brick wall, clutched her head. She willed the colors, threatened them, to stay away, but they didn't listen. They never listened, anymore.
Why would they? They'd already won.
The colors swirled again, painting visions in front of her. Visions of things that had never happened. Could never happen, should never happen:
smiling and laughing with the other canterlot high students shaking hands with and accepting life advice from with the principals playing with the other ponies at the school for gifted unicorns softly embracing princess celestia, who she loved with all of her heart—
Damn it!
Sunset roared, temporarily—always only temporarily—scaring the colors away, and forced herself back onto the sidewalk. There weren't many people around to stare, given the weather. Good for them. It meant they got to live.
This was what it had been like all week. Ever since she'd been hit with the full, combined light of the Elements of Harmony. In bed, out of bed, in school, in private, in public, she'd been forced to remember, to relive, every moment of her life, every decision she'd ever made, forced to see all the ways things could have gone differently—
different ways, better ways—
Cowardly ways!
Sunset had become skilled beyond any mortal being at keeping those small inclinations, that small voice of conscience, locked away. It was essential that she did so, so she could fulfill her life's mission, her life's ambition, while still being able to sleep at night. But now, all of those voices, those pulses, those lights and colors—had been given carte blanche to come flooding back all at once, with interest.
And if the door to that conscience ever had a lock before, there was no sign of one now.
Needless to say, sleep had been at a premium lately.
Money had certainly been a problem, too. Stealing it from weak people had been just been fine before, but ever since the stupid stupid stupid stupid rainbow beam happened she always thought about how her victim-to-be might feel whenever she tried now which meant she always went broke
—having this stupid "heart" is awful I just want to live for me!
Sunset ducked into a doorway, just out of sight, held her head in her hands, knelt down, and screamed as hard as she could, as if she could drive all of the light pollution from her soul by sheer force of will. The actual effect, alas, was merely just barely drowning out the rain from her ears—and even that was easy to hear again once she was reduced to weak, tearful sobs moments later.
And still, the happy visions persisted, taunting Sunset with a far nicer person, a far nicer pony, than she knew she could ever be.
Was this what it was like to be.... human? Or equine? What even was she anymore? What had she ever been? Was the monster she had turned into after gaining possession of a single Element of Harmony her true self?
If so, why had it been so... pathetic?
As pathetic in the face of real hardship as she was right now?
And worst of all, why did the tiniest, smallest, most invisible part of her keep trying to tell her that what she was going through right now... was still better than the alternative?
Sunset didn't hear the door open behind her, didn't feel the warm, soft, clean towel being draped across her shoulders, until several moments later, after managing to claw back from within herself, and acknowledge the world once more.
In that world, a gray woman in a full-length blue dress now stood over her with a concerned expression. Sunset didn't say anything. Nor did the woman, for quite some time. Until she finally did.
"I was expecting a lost cat, given the mewling at my door."
She held out her hand. Sunset reflexively reached out to slap the hand away, to tell this naive, idiotic woman to her face that she didn't need anyone's pity, least of all some stranger's.
Sunset's hand clasped the woman's, with a firm, twitchy grip. It was warm. Shockingly warm. Far warmer than the towel. It flowed through her. The storm she'd wandered for hours had been near freezing, and only now did Sunset notice. Defeated, she allowed herself to be helped to her feet.
The woman smiled.
"Come. No self-respecting person belongs in this storm."
Sunset opened her eyes as the memory faded, wiping stray tears—which were part and parcel by now—with one hand. She beckoned for Starlight to follow as she approached the bar.
As they did so, they were stopped by the sound of a woman humming a tune, melodic and longing, which replaced the jazz over the PA system. The patrons at the other tables and booths hushed, leaving only the humming, which reached a nearly hymn-like timbre the longer it progressed.
And then, just as gradually, it morphed into a determined groaning, echoing around Sunset and Starlight, surrounding them, closing in on them. Both girls looked around, unable to find any other source.
The humming stopped, leaving a thick silence, easy for anyone to cut, much less the thick-accented voice which next chanted over the PA system:
"First she tries to drink me into the ground—then only after several months is she found?"
Sunset sighed inwardly, and chuckled outwardly. She'd placed odds that this would happen. Not that she blamed who the voice belonged to. Still, no sense in rolling over and providing instant satisfaction. That wasn't the Shimmer style.
She took a deep breath, and did the one thing Sunset Shimmer knew best: take a chance.
"You challenged me. It proved amusing," Sunset replied, with crossed arms, her practiced confident smile, and a raised voice which reached across the shop. "You ever settle on your excuse for losing?"
Scattered giggles and titters could be heard from the patrons in the other booths.
To the side of the bar, a bell-adorned curtain jingled—one which had an "Employees Only" sign above it. It jingled, it rustled, it was pulled to the side.
A gray woman stood in the doorway, wearing a dark red garden dress with all manner of flower designs printed on it, from roses to lilies to orchids. Distinctive angled black skin markings protruded from her dress's neck and wrist lines. A piercing stare, which matched Sunset's intensity, looked perfectly at home with her wild brown eyes, and ivory-highlighted nappy black hair.
The woman's gaze, straight and determined, bore those wild eyes straight into Sunset's, to the point where Sunset fought the reflexive urge to step back—and only barely succeeded.
"I decided that manners and decency, I possess," the woman said, walking towards Sunset with narrowing eyes. "And that despite my efforts, someone always held far less."
Sunset strode towards the woman in kind, still holding on to what little momentum of image the woman hadn't already usurped. "What can I say? You did what you could."
As the two closed the space between them, Sunset took one more chance. She stopped, her voice softening, her eyes meeting the woman's in return. "Trust me, though: from where I'm standing... you did pretty good."
Silence ruled the shop again, for several moments.
Then the woman smiled wide, and held out her arms. Sunset's face immediately brightened as well, and she ran into them, giggling like a girl half her age. She felt strong arms embrace her—strong arms which she had called home so many times.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Sunshine," the woman said. "Bonus points if you mean it."
"I do," Sunset said, briefly resting her head on the woman's shoulder. "This time."
The two broke apart, and the woman laughed, loud and long. "At last, I have seen it! Hello, my little pony." Her eyes twinkled. "Is this the day you return to me?"
Sunset looked away with a blush. "Hi, Miss Zecora. Sorry I haven't come around much. It's been a... very eventful year."
"Eventful?" Zecora, said, reaching into one of her dress's pockets, and producing a small plastic cube with a granite-colored object inside it. "Or magical?"
Sunset got a closer look, then gasped as she just barely memorized a chunk of familiar inscription. "This is... oh my gosh, Zecora, this is a piece of the Memory Stone!"
"Merely my latest acquisition," Zecora said, putting the cube back in her pocket. "I felt it might have been part of your mission—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hang on! Rewind."
Both ladies turned to see Starlight Glimmer, with wide eyes and a dropped jaw to match.
"No, seriously," Starlight said. "Like, Twilight calls all her students that at one point or another. She's done it with me, she does it with the pony Friendship School students... it was always a little weird hearing it on the other side, but here?" She started counting on her fingers. "Is it some sort of multiversal slang constant? Is it a pet name? Is it—" Starlight stopped counting on her fingers, her eyes widening. "Actually, please let it not be that last one, I'm not sure how many more surprises I can endure today."
"Sunset, who is this by your side?" Zecora chuckled. "I was not aware she was along for the ride."
Starlight gasped. "Oh! Sorry, manners! Hello, Miss Zecora. I'm Starlight Glimmer, Sunset's friend." She said, holding out her hand. As Zecora shook it, she added, "Pleased to meet you, because... greeting you..." Starlight's eyebrows furrowed for several seconds before she slumped in defeat. "Yeah, sorry, poetry was never my thing."
"Don't worry, it takes years of practice," Sunset said. Turning to Zecora, she continued, "Starlight's another one of my close 'from out of town' friends. And right now, she's in similar straits to when you found me, so I couldn't think of a better place to help her get her head together—"
Sunset stopped when she saw Zecora wearing a grin and shaking, just a bit. Instantly, she realized what Zecora was thinking. "Oh, no. Miss Zecora, no, don't."
Zecora's smile crinkled.
Sunset groaned.
"I suppose things aren't always what they seem..." Zecora began.
"Please," Sunset said, burying her face in her hands, "please stop—"
"And here I thought you'd started playing for our team!" Zecora finished, laughing.
The feather broke the camel's back. Frustration and old instincts overrode Sunset's decorum. "Ma-maaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" she wailed, pouting and stomping one foot because Miss Zecora always, always, always did this every time and Sunset always fell for itwhy and argh and blarghsnozzles! "I have human best friends and I have pony best friends! You know this!"
Her tantrum only lasted for a few seconds, but it was cathartic enough. Sunset slumped with her own sigh as her annoyance slowly passed. There'd be next time. There'd always be next time. One day, she'd win. Law of averages, right?
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I never could resist," Zecora said, her mirth slowly dying down. "Every new companion is an opportunity that cannot be missed! Still..." She turned to Starlight, and placed her palm on Starlight's cheek. "To turn away any friend of Sunset's would be a waste. I happen to know she has pretty good taste. You are always welcome here, my dear."
A blushing Starlight looked at Sunset with her own mirthful grin—eliciting a facetious eyeroll from the latter—before looking back to Zecora. "Thank you, Miss Zecora. I'll do my best to warrant your hospitality."
Zecora nodded. "A declaration from the heart—you're already off to a good start." To Sunset, she asked, "And would it be uncouth to assume your usual booth?"
"Not at all," Sunset replied.
Zecora led them towards the back of the shop, and around an L-shaped wooden panel as tall as any of them. On the other side of that panel was a large, spacious booth that looked the least-used out of all of them—and, as Sunset could confirm—the most comfortable.
"Maximum privacy, for VIPs only," Zecora said to Starlight. "Sunset and I have spent much time here." She then smiled at Sunset, those wild eyes twinkling once more. "And time comes now, for her to be the listening ear."
"I will. Thanks, Ma—Miss Zecora," Sunset said, as both girls settled into the booth.
"Ring the booth bell to order drinks," Zecora said, handing out two menus. "But until then, take as long as you need to rest and think."
As Starlight watched Zecora leave, Starlight's words came in awestruck hisses. "Two. Of. Everyone. Oh. My. Gosh."
"Yep," Sunset said. "Like I said. Parallels all around."
"You sure? I mean, this Zecora looks like she's... I don't know, large and in charge! In Equestria, she's a total recluse who everyone distrusted because they didn't take the time to understand her until they were forced to—" Starlight stopped, and blushed. "Wow, parallels, but not where I expected. I think I could kiss you right now."
Sunset blushed in return. "I mean, let me earn it first."
Starlight sighed dramatically. "Well, if I must. Seriously, though. What's Zecora's deal on this side of things? And why are you and she so..." She put two fingers together.
Sunset opened her mouth to speak, when Starlight interrupted her with a raised index finger. "Oh, and by all means, start with 'Mama'."
The giggles died down. Both Starlight's and Sunset's expressions sobered. Sunset folded her hands in front of herself, took a deep breath, slowly exhaled... and began the conversation. "How much did Twilight tell you about me?"
Starlight 'hmm'ed. "Not all that much. You were Celestia's old student, you ran away to here, went back to steal her crown, Twilight had to come over here to get it back, which she did. Then when some old-school monsters from Equestria attacked this dimension, you and she teamed up. And you've been amazing ever since."
Silence passed before Sunset rolled her eyes with a rueful chuckle. "I wish I'd been as nice as that story paints me."
"Yeah, I always felt like there were holes in it, too? But I was dealing with my own stuff, so I didn't pry." Starlight tapped her fingers together, her gaze shifting back and forth before she directed it back to Sunset. "Hey. If this stuff hurts to think about, to talk about... believe me, I really get it. You don't have to. Not for me."
Sunset shook her head. "No, it... helps if you know. Plus, I sometimes need to remind myself." She sighed. "I was spoiled from day one. A magic prodigy who knew what I had going for myself, and who thought power and status should have been mine because, well, I'd been gifted with a lot of it already. Princess Celestia didn't agree, though—and neither did Princess Twilight when I tried to use her crown to brainwash the students and faculty of Canterlot High School, so I could use them as my own personal army to take over Equestria."
"Wait. Students and faculty?" Starlight crossed two fingers on one hand with her other's index. "Including a certain couple of principals who totally would have turned into their pony analogues if they'd gone through the—"
A smile crossed Sunset's lips, in a slant she hadn't felt in years. Allowing herself to be nostalgic for a few precious moments, she nodded. "Figured that theory was worth a shot, too, yeah."
Starlight gaped, with a bemused, breathy giggle. "You... whoa, you thought big! Like, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm actually kind of impressed!"
Sunset giggled back. "Don't worry, I take it as a compliment. Anyway: I fought Princess Twilight and the friends she made on this side of things, but they won pretty easily, by hitting me with the Elements of Harmony... more or less. The crown awakened the magic of friendship in the human versions of Twilight's pony friends. Whom you've already met."
"Huh. Guess it thought they were good enough in a pinch." Starlight shrugged. "Still, though. Getting hit with ancient Equestrian magic is no joke—personal experience speaking—but... the Elements?" Starlight leaned in, her eyes wide and twinkling. "What's that like?"
Sunset closed her eyes, allowing herself to think of that lonesome, painful night in the rain for only a few seconds, refusing to fall back into that sadness again, back into that conflict of mind and heart that felt like it would last forever.
"After hearing what's happened to Discord and Luna, and seeing what it's done to some of the people here, the best I can come up with is... it's sort of like jump starting a power source. Only instead of a battery or a mystical conduit, it's your conscience. And by jump start, I mean full power, all at once. It doesn't rewrite your mind or heart anything, but... everything and everyone has the capacity for good inside of them.
"And the Elements give that capacity the biggest loudspeaker you've ever seen." Sunset fingered the orange geode pendant around her neck. "Honestly, the girls and I only use our harmonic powers as a last resort for that reason. It's a lot to take if you're not ready for it—and no one ever is."
"And it was no different for me," Sunset continued. "The Elements... 'unlocked' something in me. Something that I'd know I'd kept locked, that I'd cowed into submission in the name of moving up in the world. Suddenly that part of me wasn't afraid to say what it thought anymore. And the more I heard what it had to say... the more I started to wonder if it had a point.
"I fought it as hard as I could. It hurt so much, and there was no escape from it. Ever. To the point where, one afternoon, I just started walking, for hours, not caring where I ended up... or if I made it back. The way I saw it then, things wouldn't have been any different, either way. Nor would anyone have cared. I certainly hadn't given anyone reason to."
Sunset balled her fists and shut her eyes tight, only realizing she'd done both when she felt Starlight's hands on hers. She opened her eyes to see Starlight staring back with support and reassurance, and also grabbing one of the table napkins and handing it over.
It was only there for a moment, but Sunset saw... something in Starlight's eyes. Something... connecting, that she hadn't ever seen in anyone else's eyes in this world. Something that communicated the same sadness Sunset knew all too well, from her loneliest nights.
Sunset blinked, and her vision sloshed, leaving her unable to pursue further for the moment. She made a mental note to try again later. Tactfully, of course.
"Thanks." Sunset dabbed at her eyes, tossed the tissue into a nearby wastebasket, and took a deep breath before continuing. "It was that same evening I met Zecora, though 'collapsed in front of her door' is probably more accurate. She let me in, cooked the best meal I had in years, and let me sleep in her spare bed for the night.
"And then, the next day, she offered to listen to my story. All of it." Sunset huffed, blowing stray strands of red hair to the side. "Not that she had much choice—I was a total wreck. Ended up blubbering my whole life story even though she technically never asked me to go as in-depth as I did, and even though I knew it'd be impossible to believe."
Starlight tilted her head. "When you say 'whole life story'..."
Sunset nodded.
"Yep, thought so," Starlight nodded back and 'hmm'ed. Her eyes narrowing, she asked, "She... doesn't have anything on you, does she?"
Sunset laughed. "Only the part where I kind of owe her everything. Really, though, Zecora knows everything about everyone within a tri-city radius, including who I really am. But in the time I've known her, I've only ever seen her use that knowledge to the benefit of those same people." She sighed, resting her elbow on her table, and her chin on one hand. "I truly haven't seen anyone with others' best interests at heart since Celestia. Either of them."
Sunset hesitated, before looking at the menus they'd been given, and taking one in her hand. "Which also means she knows my real Equestrian age, beyond these bodies the mirror gives us." She looked up at Starlight, sliding the other menu towards her. "I'm guessing you're close?"
A sly smile crept across Starlight's lips as she crossed her arms over the table. "I mean, feel free to guess. Then halve it."
Sunset chuckled and rolled her eyes. The track playing over the sound system changed to something slightly more upbeat, and containing more pianos. "All I mean by that is: do you drink?"
Starlight's eyes and mouth momentarily bulged, looking if she were about to burst from sudden laughter. In the end, she slouched back in her booth seat with a wistful sigh. "I'm a schoolteacher, Sunset. No offense to your mom—and you still haven't explained that bit yet—but whatever she's got here, I doubt it's anywhere near strong enough."
Sunset's hand flew to the booth bell. "Challenge accepted, on her behalf."
The booth bell was unexpectedly silent as Sunset pressed its top. She peered closer at it, then pressed it again.
Nothing.
Just as she was about to get up to call Zecora herself, a small screen next to the bell which she hadn't noticed before lit up with a number on it. "Huh. She's upgraded." She looked back to Starlight. "You really don't give up when you want to know something, do you?"
Starlight beamed. "Nope! Besides, Princess Twilight taught me that knowing and understanding others' lives—"
"—is the first step towards empathizing with them and being their friend," Sunset finished, not skipping a beat.
"Bingo! Right, I keep forgetting you took the same class I did." Starlight winked.
Sunset winked back. "Yeah, just by remote. But okay, here it is: when I realized I'd just told Zecora my whole story, I was ready to run away. Far away. Anywhere I needed to. But..." She folded her hands, and closed her eyes. "She said she believed me, and that my secrets were safe with her. I didn't know why at the time, but the more I got to know her, the more I grew to understand.
"She gave me the best gift I could have received at the time: a choice. A safe harbor, to decide for myself whether or not I wanted to stay who I was... or try something new." Sunset opened her eyes. "I didn't have a real home at the time. For years I'd been bouncing between abandoned houses, shelters, the temporary kindness of strangers who lived in actual good homes, and even some of the unused CHS rooms. Not great. Zecora owns this building, including the floor above it—so she offered me her spare room, and a job working here, to let me get back on my feet."
Starlight's eyes widened."That means she's... she really is..."
Sunset nodded. "Miss Zecora is my old boss. Also my first boss, but still the best I've ever had. It was because of her that I learned that even just a little kindness can go a long way." Sunset gestured around the shop. "This bar is where I learned the basics of thinking about the needs of people other than myself, and making my own living while I was at it.
"So, yeah. It wasn't long I started calling her 'Mama'—short for 'Mama Z', which was how her regulars knew her. I shortened it, though, because in so many ways to me..." Sunset clasped her hands, bringing them to her heart. A warm feeling washed over her as she acknowledged the reasoning behind her story. "That's who she is."
Silence reigned save for the jazz music for quite some time before Starlight softly said, "You were really lucky, too, huh? To also have someone believe in you, unconditionally, when you were at your lowest—and tell you you were actually worth something."
Sunset nodded with a smile. "Yeah. We do have that in common, don't we?"
Starlight smiled back. "Thanks for bringing me here, Sunset. I can see why this place, and why Zecora, is so special to you, and I'm honored that you decided to share it with me."
Sunset and Starlight's gazes met as Zecora approached—and this time, Sunset could see the tiniest patches of joy within Starlight's still-forlorn eyes.
She couldn't help but wonder if it was the same for Starlight, with regards to herself.
"Getting along well, I see?" Zecora asked upon arriving at Sunset and Starlight's booth. "This pleases me."
"It makes me happy too," Starlight said, shooting Sunset a quick mischievous look before addressing Zecora visually. "You've raised a wonderful daughter."
Zecora burst out laughing. Sunset rested her chin in her hands, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. When her vision was back to ground level, she saw Zecora sitting next to her in the booth, now looking right at her.
Sunset hadn't even noticed. Then again, there never had been any escaping Zecora when she was looking for something—or someone.
"Miss Shimmer, to her credit, did most of the work," Zecora said, leaning in for a squeezing hug. "I only showed her the basics of not being a jerk."
Sunset hugged back, because of course she was going to. "I needed that, though," she said. "And not a day doesn't go by when I don't thank you for it."
"You are indeed most welcome," Zecora replied, letting go and rising back to her feet. "It seemed the first step to addressing your doldrums. Still, customers you are, and I mustn't keep you. I take it you've had a chance to look at the menu?"
"We certainly have," Sunset said, picking up the printed green laminated stock. "One grape daquiri." Zecora stayed quiet, long enough for Sunset to tilt her head in confusion. "Did I... say something wrong?"
"Merely waiting for you to add the usual thing," Zecora replied. "Or has your choice of companion changed your thinking?"
Sunset rolled her eyes again—good-naturedly, of course. They'd had this talk before. "No mocktails tonight," she said. "Real thing."
Zecora's lips crept into a twinkling smile. "Virgin no more, I see. All right: one traditional grape daquiri." Before Sunset could object to her choice of words, Zecora turned to Starlight. "And for you, what will it be?"
"One blueberry smash," Starlight said, tossing another smug look to Sunset. "The least virgin you can make it."
"I hate you both. So much." Sunset turned to Starlight. "Also, wow. You really are doing this."
To Sunset's mild surprise, Starlight's stare turned challenging. "Well, one of us has to."
"All right, all right, fine." Sunset threw up her hands. "Strongest you have for me too. Since the entire multiverse seems to want to see me getting drunk tonight."
"The two of you together live quite dangerously." Zecora chuckled. "I'll see what I can whip up in a jiffy."
===
Zecora left, and Sunset and Starlight laughed. "Challenging me to a drink duel on our first night out?" Sunset asked.
"I wasn't kidding before?" Starlight sighed, resting her forehead on one hand. "Kind of want to numb things as much as possible. But the lead-up's been pretty good at helping me forget stuff too. It helps that you're fun."
"Well, yeah, you're fun, too. This is all fun... fun I don't normally get to have, either." She looked out over the rest of the restaurant. "I've tried taking Twilight here before. But she can't drink yet, so we never could do... this." She gestured around. "Any of this."
"Doesn't this place serve tea and coffee during the day?" Starlight asked.
"Especially not for her. She uh, bounces." Sunset hesitated before shrugging and adding, "On my lap, usually. Which, I mean, isn't so bad, but can it make having reasonable conversations tough for us."
Starlight's smile slanted. "Because of the caffeine, you mean."
"Yeah." Sunset blushed. "Definitely the caffeine."
"Okay, okay, okay." Starlight swept her hands in front of herself. "So. If you don't mind my asking: you and this world's Twilight seem to be... pretty close. As in, not one conversation we've had has passed without you mentioning her."
"Yep," Starlight said, nodding in triumph. "I knew how to catalog peoples' word patterns way before I was Princess Twilight's student. I'm not accusing you of anything, though. I just find it amusing."
"She's my best friend in this world," Sunset said with a sigh. "I mean, even amongst my best friends. I like having her around." Sunset reached over, taking one of Starlight's hands. "But she's not the only one. Speaking of best friends, it's your turn. I've been the subject long enough. Let's finally talk about why you need a vacation."
Starlight smiled back, firming her hold on Sunset's hand in return. "I thought you'd never ask."
"Okay, then." Starlight wiped her brow in hesitation. "Right. Vacation. Reason I'm here. Well..." She trailed off.
Sunset held in a groan. "Wait, hold on. You're getting cold feet now? After hailing me in the middle of the day, pleading for me to meet you, having me think something terrible and urgent is wrong—"
"No, no, I'm not, I swear!" Starlight said. "It's just... you know how you have a story in your head to tell someone, and you memorize it so you won't have to waste the other person's time, but then you have so much fun with the other person that you originally forget what you were going to say?" Her eyes were wide and pleading. "Please tell me you do."
Sunset blinked... then relaxed. Starlight was lucky that they clearly shared a brain and half a life. "Actually... yeah, I do. Sorry for jumping to conclusions."
"No, it's okay, I'm sorry for... look, you've already helped so much. I can't begin to say how grateful I am for the last few hours. But it does mean that my pre-planned sob story went out the window." She giggled. "You might have done your job a little too well."
"I've been known to have that effect," Sunset snickered.
"So, yeah. I just need to take a second to start over." Starlight rolled her eyes and huffed. "Ugh. I knew I should have written everything down."
"Know that feeling all too well, too," Sunset said. "But, remember what I said earlier: it doesn't have to be a novel or a dissertation. We're talking about emotions here. Just describe them as best as you can, technique be damned." She snapped her fingers. "Oooh, okay. Let's start with... the very last feeling you had when felt you needed to get away from it all—so much that you felt needed to violate the space-time continuum to solve your problem." She winked.
"Augh!" Starlight yelped, miming being struck by putting her hand to her heart and jerking back. "Could you find a worse way to word that around me?"
"Nope," Sunset said. "That's what makes it fun."
Starlight calmed down, taking deep breaths. "All right, Starlight. Don't overthink it. Don't overthink it... okay. My last feeling was..." Starlight perked up, then slouched. "Oh, yeah. Feeling really, really overwhelmed."
"Getting somewhere already," Sunset said. "I completely understand what that's like. But I also remember a pretty wise person teaching me once to focus on the positive, and live in the moment. To take things as they come?" She smiled slantedly. "I can introduce you, if you want."
Starlight laughed for a short time, before sighing and resting her forehead in one hand. "Right. I guess I never told you the part where you shouldn't take all of the things as they happen. At once."
Sunset furrowed her eyebrows. "Yeah, that sounds... less doable."
"So, where where you had magic problems that didn't always exist in the moment, I have pony problems. And creature problems. Life problems. Different lives. All the time. All existing. One of everyone." She slouched further in her booth, resting her head on the table. "Yeah, it's starting to come back to me." Starlight's voice was mildly muffled by the table she was speaking directly into. "Pretty sure I know where all this started."
"Great," Sunset said. "Let's hear it."
Starlight raised her head up, just enough to look at Sunset. "Mind if we time travel anyway? Metaphorically, I promise."
"Sure thing," Sunset said. "We've got all the time in the world."
Workdays for School of Friendship Guidance Counselor Starlight Glimmer could be categorized as "boom" and "bust," with very little in between. It was either busy with students (and sometimes faculty!) lined outside her office to the end of the hallway—often in the aftermath of an Applejack class, interestingly enough—or it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Starlight eventually learned to appreciate the pindrops.
The silent moments, the quiet hours, which had originally driven her stir-crazy and scrambling for any activity just to keep her mind occupied and the clock hands moving, now couldn't last long enough. She dozed with her eyes half-open, forelegs folded behind her head and hooves crossed atop her desk, as she stirred a cocoa-filled mug that had "WORLD'S BEST COUNSELOR" printed on the front.
(It was a... thoughtful gift from someone Starlight cared about, and who Starlight knew cared about her—even given the fact that the cup would always show "(WHO ISN'T TRIXIE)" in slightly smaller letters below the main caption whenever filled with a hot beverage. Needless to say, Starlight had an important decision to make whenever it was time for morning coffee. Still, as usual, it was the sentiment that counted.)
It was a moment comprised of perfection, and a part of Starlight wished it could last forever. She loved her position, but sometimes, after seeing one student after another for hours at a time, her mind working at full capacity to deal with life and scholastic problems on the fly every moment... well, let's just say that had she the chance to relive her offer for the position over again, with her current knowledge, she might have thought twice about it.
Before still accepting it, of course. But still twice.
A knock at the door heralded the end of her blissful downtime. Starlight stopped stirring her cocoa, took a sip, took a deep breath as the chocolate and sugar flooded her happiness receptors, and put on her best welcoming smile.
No rest for the empathetic, she recited to herself as she walked to the door. You keep these students at their best. Let's get to it.
She opened her office door to see a blue griffon on the other side. There was, to Starlight's relief, no line stretching across the hallway, and the griffon himself seemed to be both checking—and relieved—for the same thing. "H-hi, Starlight," he said when he finally looked forward again.
"Gallus!" Starlight's expression brightened. "What a nice surprise! Emphasis on both of those words." Starlight meant it, too. She had files on Gallus just like the rest of the Friendship School's students, but his already had extra notes attached despite his never having visited before. She'd observed him enough, however, and had listed him as a type she quite was familiar with: snarky, a little shifty, but deep down, caring and vulnerable.
She could relate to all those things, because she'd been all of those things. Heck, sometimes she'd backslide on purpose, just to indulge. Only when Twilight wasn't looking, though.
"Y-yeah. Can I come in already?" Gallus looked back and forth again. "Don't exactly want anycreature seeing me here."
"Of course, of course!" Starlight opened the door wider and stepped aside to let him in. "You do know you're always welcome here, right?"
"I do. Didn't stop me from exercising every other option first, though." Gallus rolled his eyes. "But my friends here can only go so far, and you know my family situation is... unique." His voice lowered. "I also... might be here about exactly that."
Starlight nodded, understanding in moments. "Which explains the friends' limited effectiveness."
"Yeah. I mean, they're great and I wouldn't change 'em out for anything, but..." Gallus looked up at Starlight, showing wide, glassy eyes which looked to be hoping against hope. "I guess I just feel like I need to talk to someone who's been through a bit more."
Starlight smiled, placing an earnest forehoof on Gallus's shoulder. "I know exactly how that feels, Gallus. And, speaking honestly, I'm honored that you would place your trust in me. Thank you."
"Yeah, well." Gallus looked away with tinted cheeks. "Don't make me regret it."
"Of course. One second." Starlight's horn glowed, magically moving the chairs which were normally in front of her desk to the side, and pulling a mini couch across the office to where the chairs had been. "Make yourself comfortable," she said. "Can I get you a drink?"
"Just water," Gallus said. "Don't trust myself with sugar right now."
"Coming right up." Starlight poured a cup of water from the nearby dispenser, floated it to Gallus, then sat at her desk as he took a seat on the couch. "So, Gallus," she said, pressing her hooves together, "Tell me what's on your mind."
Gallus took a deep breath, followed by an equally intense exhale. "Okay. I know Headmare Twilight told you about my Hearth's Warming... outburst. I didn't want to, of course, but it's been a lot to keep in all these years, and then I got put into a situation where it was in front of my face the whole time and no one would let us leave so I could just take care of it by myself like I normally do—"
"Gallus," Starlight interjected, knowing that it wouldn't do him any good to get heated from the jump, "It's okay. There are no judgments in this office. In fact, if you want my opinion, right now, I think you did the right thing. I can't imagine how much it must have hurt to bottle up that magnitude of grief for this long. But I think I can imagine where this is going. Please, continue."
"Yeah, that's what everycreature keeps telling me," Gallus said. "That I wasn't wrong to finally get it out there. And for a while, I agreed. It felt good to get it out in the open. At least with my friends. Especially since... well, after it happened, I thought they'd treat me differently. You know, with kid gloves, or pity." The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his beak. "Instead they just... treat me like the friend I now know I've always been to them. Even Smolder still gives me no mercy with her snark." His expression scrunched. "Which is good, cause so help me, if I were to find out for a second that she was going easy on me..." He scoffed. "I'm getting off track, here, aren't I?"
Starlight smiled. "Good catch. Your individual relationships with the other students are things we absolutely can talk about in a separate session, if you want. But this one's about you. Don't cheat yourself out of this opportunity. Don't avoid why you came here."
"Right." Another deep breath from Gallus. "So, one of the "positive" things about keeping how I felt about all of this in," he said, making air quotes with his talons, "was that I'd force myself not to think about anything remotely related to it. I'd distract myself with something else, go for a quick fly, you know, the usual stuff. Over time I'd have to do that less and less, until I was finally able to fool myself into thinking I'd moved on."
Starlight nodded.
"But ever since that night..." Gallus raised his talons in front of his eyes. "Now that I've thought about it, I can't stop. And nothing works to distract me anymore. Everything I do or say gets put through this... this filter, this gate, with my mind asking me how I'd handle the situation if I had a normal life. But since I haven't..." He growled. "Needless to say, I was sent here because it was finally getting in the way of my classes."
Gallus slumped backwards into the cushions, wiping his eyes.
"When you think about it, really think about it, family as a concept is... it's just everywhere. And I miss mine. I miss my parents, I miss the idea of having parents, or even a brother or sister or whatever! I have for years, and..." His teeth clenched, and he growled again, now visibly straining.
It was a tactic that Starlight had seen before. "No keeping in your words," she said, leaning forward. "No more bottling your feelings! You know where that leads, now! Tell me the first thing that comes to you."
"Fine! I'm jealous of those who have their families! I'm mad at them!" Gallus leapt to his feet, throwing up one talon. "I told myself that's just what the world dealt me, and it wasn't anyone's fault, but I'm starting to ask why all over again. Because, really, why? Being a griffon's hard enough!" His voice cracked on the words. "We hurt each other enough! There are a million ponies and changelings out there with cushy lives, why couldn't the universe have taken a couple of them!?" Gasping for breath, his fist hit Starlight's desk on the last sentence. "S-sorry about that."
"It's mahogany. Cheap and easy to replace," Starlight said, desperately trying to lighten the mood the tiniest bit—but still containing the worst hunch about where this was all going.
"Heh. You wouldn't make a half-bad griffon. But... do you see what I'm getting at? I'm... I'm terrible. I'm a terrible creature. I know no one deserves to go through what I have, I know these feelings are wrong, I know losing someone I love doesn't automatically entitle me to them... but I can't stop them. I can't stop being angry at everyone and everything! And..." He looked away. "I can't stop hating myself for it."
Starlight finally sighed in response, her heart twisting in knots as the words hit close to home.
"Oh, Gallus," Starlight sighed, doing her best to ignore the stinging sensation of her heart swimming in her stomach.
Her efforts, sadly, didn't get her much of anywhere. She'd definitely been here before. In the back of her mind, she knew this day would come, when someone would approach her about problems related to her own life experiences.
She just hadn't expected the snarky griffon kid to do it. Why couldn't it have been another actual supervillain? Where was Cozy Glow when you really needed her? Or Queen Chrysalis? Or, hell, Flurry Heart? Still, painful or not, this was her wheelhouse—and if Starlight Glimmer was anything these days, it was willing to take one for the team. Steeling her nerves, she allowed herself no more than ten seconds to get into mindset.
Five of those seconds were dedicated to recalling many years ago, as she ran after a train pulling out of a station. Her short filly's legs were hardly a match for its gathering speed, which meant that the sight of the orange, red-maned colt pressed against one of its windows became smaller and smaller, as she futilely ran the entire length of the platform, pleading for all she was worth for the train—and the colt aboard it—to come back.
She then took a deep breath, flashing forward... and allowed five more seconds to remember herself crying those same pleas—this time, silently, through sniffles—in a lonely, rain-soaked house, to anyone who would listen... but, most preferably, her parents. Wherever they were. She actually wasn't sure.
With a jolt, Starlight forced herself back to reality. Her ten seconds were up. It was time to do her job.
===
Starlight got up from her desk and walked over to Gallus, who by this time had sat back on the couch, covering his eyes with his wings. He was shaking. Starlight didn't blame him. She was, too.
"Gallus," she said, sitting next to him and pulling his wings away from his eyes, "let me be the first to assure you that you're not a terrible creature. The very fact that you're worried about being one proves you're not. And while the thoughts you're having are..." She searched for the right words. "...less than charitable, losing something or someone that you depended on for happiness, for stability, in life... makes those thoughts a completely natural part of the process of that loss." She smiled. "In other words, you're a lot more normal than you think."
She felt Gallus relax a little, shake less, and did the same. Good. She was getting somewhere.
If only she'd had someone like herself, the back of her mind wondered, when she was dealing with everything and everyone important to her gradually finding reasons to stay away from her. If only she'd had someone like herself to reassure her that how she felt afterwards didn't mean she was petty or ungrateful.
Where would she be now?
Would she be here?
Would she be happy?
Or would she still be "lazy," "spoiled," and "overdramatic"—like everyone so often said?
She looked to Gallus, her eyes widening. There was no way she'd let anyone go through what she did. Never, ever again. The walls tinted pink around the edges. Just slightly.
"Still," Starlight continued slowly, shuffling closer, "I've seen no shortage of ponies come to me who've been where you are. Unable to process... angry at the world... angry at themselves. And utterly sad about their lot in life."
"I mean, it's hardly the worst life," Gallus said, "but things could be better." He scoffed. "They could always be better."
Starlight nodded. "Your feelings aren't terrible Gallus, nor are you. It's perfectly fine to have them. But from here, it doesn't look like you enjoy having them around." She placed her hooves on Gallus's shoulders, her heart churning harder, waves crashing in her stomach.
The pinkness crept further in from the edges, blending in with the blue of her walls to create a very pretty bright shade she'd definitely have to ask Rarity about later.
"What if I told you," she asked the horizon past Gallus's eyes, past her walls, outside and miles away, "that I could help fix that?"
Gallus tilted his head. "Uh... how?"
"My magic specializes in cutie marks," Starlight said, her heart warming as the world around her took on a calming, translucent sheen. "Specifically, their application... and their removal."
The sound of a door slamming open woke Starlight. Hard.
"I don't see her!" a voice said, followed by, "No, wait, there she is! Her mane's draped over the couch arm."
She vaguely recognized Gallus's voice belonging to both sentences. Groaning, she sat up, rubbing her eyes and allowing her vision to change from fuzziness to clarity. She looked over the back of the couch to see Gallus, as expected...
Standing behind Princess Twilight? What was going on here? Suddenly Starlight was very, very anxious.
Gallus gestured towards her while talking to Twilight. "She just started glowing all over, and rambling on and on about... weird stuff. But it was like I wasn't even here while she was talking. I wanted to be scared, but instead I just... got worried about her."
If Starlight's heart had been swimming before, it was now frozen in a lake of ice. What exactly had happened?
"Starlight," Twilight said as she approached the couch. "Are you okay? Gallus burst into my office minutes ago, saying something went wrong during your session with him." She blinked. "Which surprised me in no small part because you told me you were getting ready to take some much-needed time off."
Starlight groaned again, holding her forehead with one hoof and draping herself over the couch's back. "I was... I-I don't know what happened, I—"
A moment of a memory flashed before Starlight. A memory that made her fear the worst within the single moment it took to manifest itself. "Oh my gosh. Oh, no."
"What? What is it?" Twilight asked.
"Gallus," Starlight said. "I'll keep my distance, I promise. But can you tell me what I was saying to you before you went to get Headmare Twilight?"
"I, uh... don't know if I should," Gallus said, looking around the room.
Twilight closed the distance between herself and Starlight, and placed a hoof on Starlight's shoulder. "What he means is that, based on what he told me," Twilight said, "neither of us are sure you'd take it well. It involves... things I know you've been trying to move past."
A pang hit Starlight's heart, felt even in its chilled state. She took a deep breath to stay calm. "I understand," she replied, looking frantically back and forth between them, "but this is important to me. Tell me. Please."
Gallus looked down to the floor... then up to Starlight with wide, worried eyes. "You were talking about... giving up emotions. Giving up cutie marks. Using magic for both."
The moment Starlight heard those words, the whole sordid scene replayed in front of her.
===
"Uh, Miss Starlight?" Gallus said, shifting away on the couch. "Two things: I'm not a pony, meaning so I don't have a cutie mark. Also, literally what?"
Starlight closed her eyes. At least, she felt as if she did. But her vision stayed fixated on Gallus, and the colors shifting and surrounding them both.
"Everycreature has a cutie mark, Gallus," she intoned. "Even if they're not cute pictures on their flanks. Some have them there, but my research has shown..." She pointed to her solar plexus. "That everyone has them in here as well. Inside themselves.
"Everycreature gives them different names, but we all have callings. Hopes. Motivations. Beliefs. Dreams. Emotional centers. Imagine what you can do, however..." Starlight paused to let it "with none of those things to stop you."
If Gallus had had a reaction, Starlight didn't notice. "No fears," she continued. "No apprehensions. No pain, sadness or grief. Imagine making and keeping as many friends as you want, as much family, blood and found, as easily as you want, without fear of rejection."
Her eyes widened. The world widened. And her voice cracked the tiniest bit.
"Imagine being immune to the pain of loss when they inevitably abandon you!"
Starlight's lips moved on their own, now, as her peripheral vision tinted itself brown and lavender. Why did she feel like crying? The power was hers. It always was. It was her responsibility to use it! Why did she feel like running away and letting tears flow until she dried up completely?
"There's nowhere my magic can't reach. And nothing it can't help. Are you willing to do what it takes to live here? To throw your old self away and embrace true harmony? Please," Starlight breathed. "Let me help you. Let me help us!"
===
Once more, Starlight jolted back to reality. The memory was now clear as day. Lightning struck her frozen heart as she realized what she'd done. She still wanted to run away and cry forever—though now for slightly different reasons.
"Oh my goodness, no," she nearly shrieked, shaking her head frantically. "Gallus, I am sosorry. You have got to believe me, I didn't mean a single word of what I said. I would never do that to you. I would never do anything to hurt you, or any of the other students, I..." She buried her face in her foreleg, choking on the lump in her throat. "I... I love you all so much, I—"
"What are you talking about, Starlight?"
Odd. Gallus sounded... different. Slowly, Starlight raised her head.
At first fuzzy glance, Gallus and Twilight still seemed to be standing in front of her. She looked around. The colors were different again. Much more brown than before. She looked back in front of herself as her vision sharpened.
And the sight before shattered her frozen heart, with the single tap of a chisel.
Gallus—a Gallus whose plumage was far more gray than blue—spoke again, with a tone of voice that dripped with laziness. Apathy. Complacence.
"Honestly, what you're saying makes a ton of sense. I can't have nightmares if I never dream. Right?"
Starlight looked around, all around, to see herself back in a cabin she never thought she'd be in again. She rushed to the side window, and looked out at drab tumbleweed-covered town made of just over a dozen huts.
Her hair felt different. She patted it, and encountered the contours of a bun she hadn't worn in ages. It took everything she had in her to look behind herself, but she already knew what she would see before she saw it: an equal sign where her cutie mark used to be.
Knowing she was right didn't stop the shivering. Didn't stop the fight-or-flight. Didn't stop her whimpering.
She turned to run out the door, but was greeted with the view of Gallus, the other students, and Princess Twilight standing in front of it for her trouble. All of them were faded, washed-out shadows of their normal selves.
A long, two-pronged tree branch was tossed at Starlight's hooves. "What are you waiting for?" Gallus asked with a glazed stare. "Use your magic. Solve our problems. That's why we come to you, right?"
He then took a single step forward, with a very direct gaze that would have pierced Starlight's emotional defenses—had she any left. "Isn't that why you're still here at all?"
Sunset's view of Starlight's past plight faded as she gently broke the link with her geode. Briefly, she wondered why the geode had deigned to show things in color this time. Perhaps it had something to do with using it to interact with a natively Equestrian life form? Maybe, like the Elements of Harmony, their geodes really did have minds of their own, answering only to the universal force of friendship?
She tabled the question for later—she had far more pressing things to worry about. She was almost afraid to open her eyes to look at Starlight, but she did anyway. Sunset was greeted with the exact expression on Starlight's face that was expected: distraught, crestfallen, and just a little bit like Starlight could crack at any second.
No words were shared, because none were needed. Their faces and motions did the speaking for them.
Starlight's eyes, wide and unblinking, as she slowly pulled her hand back across the table. You got everything, didn't you?
A small nod from Sunset. I did.
A slight huff as Starlight looked down and away. Sorry. Guess I really didn't know how to put it into words.
Sunset gently tapping the table, then shaking her head when Starlight looked back towards her. No apologies. Never for this. She stood up, and walked over to Starlight's side of the booth. And we shouldn't be this far from each other right now.
Starlight looked up to Sunset, who hoped she got that last message. As Starlight moved back towards the wall to make room, Sunset gave an inward sigh of relief.
She could still help.
Sunset sat beside Starlight in the booth, facing her, and brought out her arms. Starlight leaned in, and, gently, she welcomed Starlight into her embrace. There were no screams from Starlight. No cries, no whimpers. Just quiet sniffles, quiet shakes. Sunset pulled her in closer, and Starlight buried her head in Sunset's shoulder.
It wasn't long before Zecora came back with a small tray, holding the drinks the two had ordered. Sunset put her finger to her lips, then pointed to Starlight with one hand. Zecora looked over, nodded, then left, taking the drinks with her.
A few thoughts entered her mind, inspired by Zecora's appearance. With her still-free hand, Sunset grabbed her phone from across the table, and sent a few hasty text messages to a few contacts. She'd follow up on them later, of course, but right now, just letting them know they were needed was the best course of action she could think of.
After sending one final message—this time to Zecora herself—Sunset put her phone down, and turned her attention back to Starlight, who had stopped shaking, and was now resting peacefully. Deciding Starlight had the right idea, Sunset reaffirmed her hug and closed her eyes, resting back into her friend.
And that was how they remained for the next thirty minutes.
===
With a groan, Starlight broke Sunset out of the limbo between consciousness. "I think," were her first words, "That I'm actually more hungry than thirsty. Also a little tired."
Sunset fluttered awake with a small smile and a yawn. "What a coincidence. Me too." She slid out of the booth seat, holding Starlight's hand in a gentle request for her to follow suit. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" Starlight asked, as Sunset led them around the wooden corner and out of the VIP booth proper.
Sunset's reply was immediate and confident. "Up to my room."
After leading Starlight up a single flight of stairs, and along the short length of a hallway, Sunset opened a door.
The lights were already on, revealing a cozy, sparsely-decorated bedroom that still held the basic comforts of home: a dresser, a queen-mattress bed, a computer, television, a sofa, a nightstand, a framed picture of her friends laying atop said nightstand, and a separate framed solo picture of Twilight Sparkle. (Sunset remembered it had taken a while to get the lighting just right so there'd be no glare bouncing off of Twilight's glasses—but the results had been worth it.) A few small posters of her favorite video games dotted the room, along with a poster of her favorite pop duo on the west wall.
As usual, Sunset was feeling more relaxed in here already. She only hoped it would help Starlight, too.
"And here we are," Sunset said. "When you first showed up at the portal looking to be in a not-so-great mindset, this was the first place I thought of to take us if we needed it. Even so, I wasn't sure if we really would, but as time went on..." She slouched into a sheepish shrug. "Yeah."
"Sunset—" Starlight began, but Sunset cut her off with a raised hand.
"I swear to Celestia, if I'm about to hear an apology, I'm throwing you back through the portal right now." Sunset smirked. "Might even use the island one."
Starlight clamped up.
Sunset led Starlight around the room in a slow walk. "I'm doing a lot better than I used to since my defeat. Emotionally, I mean. But regardless of what the Elements of Harmony might want out of me, I still need to retreat to my own quiet sanctuaries sometimes. Only Twilight knows about this place, so she can call me if there's an emergency. But otherwise... no one bothers me out here, and there are plenty of places around where I can recharge if I don't feel like just doing so indoors."
"That's... a good idea, actually. I could use someplace like that back home," Starlight said.
"Try setting one up, yeah. Anyway, bathroom's behind us on the right, sofa's a pull-out, there's extra pajamas in the closet, and we're not far from clothes stores and a supermarket, so we can grab you some more things in the morning. Unless you wanna wear my outfits, since I'm pretty sure we're the same size thanks Equestrian magic mirror," she finished with a slanted smile.
Starlight slanted back. "I mean, I could just go pony-style."
Sunset laughed. "Trust me, I've wanted to sometimes. But here, that'll get you arrested."
Starlight breathed an over-dramatic sigh. "I suppose we'll burn that bridge when we come to it," she said. "But seriously, this room is incredible."
"Huh. I always thought it was pretty humble, myself," Sunset said. "But it is mine. And yours while you need it. Which makes it perfect right now. Also..." Sunset pointed to the coffee table in front of the sofa, whereupon which sat several still-warm veggie burgers, along with several bottles of spring water, and the two cocktails they had ordered earlier. "Mama Z's a health nut. Surprised she went this lax—must be because you're here. I was eating almost nothing but kale and spinach salads when I was working for her. Think this'll work for your hunger?"
Sunset caught Starlight licking the slightest amount of drool from the corner of her lips. "Oh, yeah," she said. "This'll definitely work."
Starlight lay back on the sofa with a satisfied sigh after gulping down her third burger. They'd actually been surprisingly good—not quite gourmet hayburger-grade, but they'd do in a pinch. Also, Zecora had a way with herbs and spices that Starlight had never encountered before, even in Canterlot's best eating establishments. She wondered if her world's Zecora possessed the same gifts. Perhaps she could convince Princess Twilight to approve a field trip...
Both her and Sunset's cocktails were over half finished by this point. Her drink was also quite good—she hadn't slurped on a good blueberry drink in some time, not since the time Trixie's wagon had broken down on her last tour in Fillydelphia and they'd made an impromptu "date night" out of it.
Starlight's smile slackened as she reminisced on the night in the wagon they'd spent by their lonesome. Those had been very good times.
Wow, she was actually smiling. Maybe Zecora's strongest drinks could hang with her palate.
"So, yeah, the absolute weirdest and stupidest visitors I ever had to my office," she said, completely off the cuff while raising her glass, "were these two idiots with half-chopped apples on their butts. I don't even know how they got in, but they said they'd heard of my amazing guidance counseling skills—you know, the ones I'd been putting into exclusive private practice for less than six months—and tried to convince me that I should franchise. For 70/30 profit-spilt, their way, of course. And then when I said 'of course not, you bumbling morons, get the hell out of my office,' they tried—"
"A song and dance number?" Sunset asked.
Starlight sat up with a start, looking at Sunset with wide eyes. "You know them?"
Sunset snorted. "Yeah. That's just Flim and Flam. They do that stuff. Their get-rich-quick schemes only ever work once before they're exposed, but you still have to watch out for that first step—"
Starlight gasped. "Holy crap, they have names?" After a second more of thought, she laughed, adding, "Holy crap, those are their names? I've never wanted to talk to someone's parents more in my life—wait, hang on." She held up two fingers. "Two of everyone, and you knew exactly who I was talking about. Does that mean they're in this world, too?"
Sunset rolled her eyes. "Yyyyyyyyyep. They own a thrift shop not far from here. Three guesses as to how they can afford to sell their wares so cheap."
Starlight was over to Sunset's side like a shot. "Can we go to their place?"Her grin turned from serene to manic, and she tapped her fingers together. "I don't even care if they're not the same ones, I just want to make them feel like dirt."
Sunset sipped the last of her daiquiri. "Someone's looking real 'reformed' right now."
"Screw that, it's fine when they deserve it! They wouldn't stop coming over for days, they're why the friendship school has special magic-activated building admission bracelets now... well, that and Discord."
Sunset raised her eyebrows. "What'd he do?"
"He was Discord," Starlight grumbled.
Sunset lowered her eyebrows and chuckled. "Yeah, that tracks."
"Of course it does." Starlight rubbed her hands together with giddy giggles. "Either way, far as I'm concerned, every breath any Flim and Flam take, in any universe, is a gift from me." She cackled mock-dramatically, then exhaled and slouched into the sofa again, relaxing as tension left her body for the first time in days. It wasn't all the tension. But it—and the alcohol, she was sure to some extent—was enough to help. Enough to let her approach subjects she didn't really want to.
Silence hung over the room for a long while before Starlight finally finished her glass, and put it down on the coffee table with an audible clink. She bunched up her legs close, hugging herself. "So to make any sense of the craziness you saw with your gem, you're going to need context."
Sunset nodded. "Only if you're up for it."
Starlight rolled her eyes and huffed. "It's either now while I'm buzzed and actually the tiniest bit relaxed, or we wait however long it takes for me to get my nerve up while sober. And neither of us have that kind of time. So," she said, shifting her body to lean in Sunset's direction. "How much did Twilight tell you about me?"
Several more moments passed before finally, Sunset said, "Nowhere near as much I wanted to know? But the subject was a lot more sensitive back then." She shifted her body to lean in Starlight's direction. "Let's just say my wanting to know more about you in general is a pretty big reason you're here right now."
Starlight ignored the warm feelings flushing through her as she smiled at Sunset. "Then strap yourself in, honey. 'Cause this is gonna get good."
"So, stop me if you're heard this one before. Once upon a time, I had a... small dominion," Starlight said, gesturing back and forth with her hands. "Little shanty town. Wasn't much, wasn't huge, but it was mine. Kept rule over it with half subterfuge, half an iron hoof. Wasn't that hard since the ponies there basically believed in me and hung on my every word." She looked up at Sunset. "I notice I haven't been stopped yet, taking it as a good sign."
Sunset shrugged. "No reason to. School, total iron fist, tons of fear. Though attending it even after my defeat and going through the slow process of having everyone forgive me..." She sighed. "I can almost look back on it and laugh, now. Almost."
"Definitely almost," Starlight said. "I mean, my old town's forgiven me too, to the point where someone from there's now dating a well-known figure from my current place of residence and lemme tell you how awkward that gets—" Starlight took a deep breath. "Jumping ahead too far, though.
"In my old town... let's just say I had my hooves in a lot of pies. All of them brittle and tasteless, by the way, thanks old doctrine." Starlight rolled her eyes. "What I wouldn't have given for a cherry pie made with real cherries instead of cherry tree bark. Anyway, I learned to schedule, to lead, to educate, to psychologically condition, to crush insubordination before it got out of hoof," she said, matter-of-factly. "Half of the way I got there was with my magic. The other half was... well, promising happiness and friendship to ponies who didn't have anywhere else to turn."
She shrugged. "I said some kind words. They gave me their cutie marks. Which in turn made them all a lot more submissive, and receptive to my words. In other words, the world's worst feedback loop." She chuckled sardonically. "I barely had to lift a hoof to be a monster."
Starlight regretted the chuckle moments after she'd voiced it. Reflecting on her deeds in full-on words, while somewhat liberating, also drove home just how... not great she felt about all of this. Okay, sure, understatement of the century, but this was her first time unpacking this stuff in a while, she was working up to the correct scale of wait a minute—
Was Sunset laughing? She looked over, hoping that the confused indignation on her face would speak for her.
It did enough to get an apology out of Sunset, at any rate. "Sorry, sorry," she said, waving one hand and calming down. "I promise I'm not making light of your story. It's actually pretty heavy and eye-opening stuff. But..." She tittered again, leaning back against the sofa cushions.
"Gonna need you to let me in on the joke, here," Starlight said.
"Do you have any idea how much work it is to take over a high school while being a student there?" Sunset exclaimed. "I kicked peoples' asses and took their money on a daily basis! I set up pranks, I set up traps, I turned teachers and students against each other, I survived groups of people trying to jump me, and also I'm hot as hell so that's just an extra five to ten weekly fights on top of watching my back every evening." Sunset calmed down with a sigh. "Wow, you just got me remembering just how much I missed my magic on this side of the mirror back then. Wishing every night that it would somehow come back to me. Though, given what I had to deal with every day, if it did?" She rested her chin on her knuckles with a wistful expression. "I would have been the most over-the-top supervillain ever."
Briefly, Starlight pictured it. "Big orange and red castle in an ever-present thunderstorm? Robot maids and butlers? Ooh, Ooh! You could make Twilight your evil scientist sidekick!"
Sunset squealed. "Love all of it, even with the high risk of Twilight trying to betray me with over-complicated plans every other week. But yeah. Basically that."
"I'd team up with you." Starlight sighed. "But wow, yeah, I never thought of what you had to go through here without magic." She looked away. "I... always saw my magic as a curse."
Sunset put a comforting hand on Starlight's leg. "Twilight likes to tell me that the grass is always greener on the other side of the space-time continuum." She rolled her eyes. "Always thought she just liked the turn of phrase because she's a big nerd, but I think I finally get what she means."
Starlight nodded. "Yeah."
"But. Okay," Sunset said. "Given what you've told me so far, can I ask one curious question?"
"Sure."
"So, uh, ripping cutie marks off of ponies is the scariest concept I've heard in a long time." Just as Starlight's heart was about to sink, she cast one eye towards Sunset, and was once more surprised to see her expression to be far more inquisitive than repulsed. "Speaking as a fellow magic student, though? It's also hardcore. What's that like?"
Starlight blinked, her jaw agape. None of this was expected. All of this was a little too... tolerant. Nice, even. Where was the chastisement? Where was the lecturing? Where was the well-meaning, impossible-to-get-truly-mad-at patronization?...
Where was the Twilight?
No, seriously, wasn't Sunset also a Celestial protege? Where was she? Who was this?
She really might be different. Starlight blinked again, stared at Sunset again. Finally, she managed to utter, "You mean... the doing, or the happening?"
Sunset shrugged. "Meh. Both. Lay it on me."
"Uh, okay, then." Starlight took a deep breath. "The happening..." She shuddered as she recalled distant, aggressively-repressed memories. "It's probably not too hard to figure out. You know how cutie marks show themselves once you've found your life's calling? Well, take that calling, rip it out of yourself, and toss it somewhere else—I dunno, lock it in a glass cage in a cave or something.
"After you've done that... things change. You might not know it right away, but you know it whenever you try to do something you know is, well, you. You know you're supposed to be doing something, you know you're supposed to be someone—but it's always on the tip of your tongue. Lost in a fog. And if that's your life for long enough..." Starlight shuddered again. "I did it to myself once by accident, and it took forever to reverse. And I also did it to everypony in my town. By their request of course, after I convinced them it was the right move.
"The 'doing', meanwhile, takes a lot of energy, but isn't too different from moving objects. I'm just... 'tuned' to interacting with cutie marks, since I was obsessed with them for so long. Especially when I first realized I could manipulate them? I could barely contain myself. From then on, every mark removed was a victory, especially given how I felt about cutie marks at the time."
Sunset stayed quiet and nodding through Starlight's explanation, then quiet for still longer afterwards, with her fingers to her chin. She picked up her geode, examining it from all sides. "How did you feel about cutie marks at the time?"
Starlight's answer came too quickly for even her comfort.
"Like ponies put too much stock in them!" she blurted out, balling her fists. "I mean, you've lived in Equestria for long enough, you've seen what goes on. Ponies build their lives around them, act like all roads lead back to them, ridicule fillies and colts who don't have them yet, act like they're our total reason for living! Seriously, people talk to me about mind control, abut subjugation, and yet, we've got this institution—" Starlight's indignant energy fizzled. She fell silent, and drooped. Her voice softened and leveled. "Sorry. I'm not sure I can be rational when it comes to that question."
Sunset shrugged. "I'm currently holding a stone in my hand that lets me see into peoples' motivations and memories. I have been told, by a genius scientist, that it defies all scientific explanation." She looked to Starlight with a tilted smile. "Rationality stopped being welcome here a long time ago."
"Well, all right. But remember, you asked for this. Hopefully I can tell this story better than the last time I tried." Starlight took the deepest breath of the night, clasping her hands together.
"Cutie mark tunnel vision took away my best friend, my only friend, when I was a filly. The second he got his, he was declared a magic prodigy—to be fair, he sort of was—and sent hundreds of miles away to Canterlot. Which for both of us, may as well have been a continent away.
"What normally happens when that happens..." Starlight shrugged again. "Happened. Our terrible, filly- and colt-level attempts at letters fizzled out real quick, and our lives went on. I didn't get to see him again for decades. And during those decades, I... never quite recovered. Or learned how to make new friends until, well, now, really.
"My dad also started working even more to support us as the years went on—not that I ever held it against him, since he made up for it when he was around—but it did mean that, between those two things, I basically woke up one day and realized I had way too much time to myself. I know some ponies would love that, but for me, who was perfectly happy with what I had before, it was torture. It was abandonment. It was... feeling unwanted. And once again, my silly filly brain could only point to one reason why things were now the way they were."
"And yes, it's a 'stupid reason'." Starlight exhaled through pursed lips and rolled eyes. "Eeeeeveryone who's read Twilight's published friendship journal has said as much, especially given what I did later. Heck, ponies have told me to my face all sorts of ways I could just have just 'gotten over' it all, and 'easily fixed' my social life and my emotions all on my own or with the occasional random pony for a friend and yeah, I get it!" She threw up her hands. "I freaking get it! I messed up! Didn't help that after Twilight and her friends took me on and liberated my town, I might've gone on a revenge bender against her and wrecked Equestria with a time spell—"
"Hold on," Sunset said. "That was you? You were the cause of the 'crazy time loop' Princess Twilight told about last spring?"
"Most likely. Don't know of any others. Wow, Twilight really did keep me close to the chest and not in the good way, huh?"
"We'll talk about that later," Sunset said. "The three of us. Sorry, keep going."
"Right. So, yeah! Rub it in forever, I totally deserve it." Starlight slumped again, speaking much more softly now. "There are ponies who still haven't forgiven me, and that's fine. I know what I did, and I can't change it. Even with a time travel spell. That pony may not be who I am now, but I can't erase her, and quite frankly, it'd be wrong of me to try. Especially since it doesn't change how I felt then. How I feel now. How I had to stumble through this whole idiotic thing called 'life' in the dark, making all the wrong decisions along the way, in no small part because because cutie marks held such sway over everyone." She snorted. "Including me, ironically.
"So yeah. I'm not the biggest fan of cutie marks even now, and don't know if I ever will be. I always want creatures to make their own decisions... at least now. I didn't back then. Back then, I wanted everypony to come to the same bad conclusions I did. To make the same bad decisions I did."
She finally got the courage to look into Sunset's eyes again. "And between you and me? That's the only thing I regret. A lot of my mistakes could have been avoided if I knew how to not make everything all about me."
"I want to do better," Starlight whispered. "That's all I've wanted to do, ever since Princess Twilight gave me the chance to see Equestria with new and fresh eyes. And I thought I was doing better! But then that whole... thing happened, and all of my old fears just came rushing back. I'm back to not knowing what to do. Who I should be. And if I should even keep trying."
Starlight lowered her head and closed her eyes, realizing that she'd surprised even herself with her statements. At this point, she lamented, she'd never be a 'good' pony. Whatever that was. She'd be lucky if she could serve as a cautionary tale for Equestria at large.
She felt drops on her knees. Oh. There they were. She wondered when those would show up.
Her eyes reflexively opened upon feeling Sunset holding her hands, but her vision was too watery to make anything out. However, she soon felt a soft handkerchief wiping her eyes, and her vision cleared to see Sunset wearing a tender, tranquil expression.
"I think we've made a lot of progress today," Sunset said.
Starlight tittered despite herself. "That's my line. And I'm not sure if I'm qualified to say it tonight."
"That's because tonight, I was doing the listening. And after finally hearing your story, I'm actually sure enough of one thing for the both of us."
"Really?" Starlight asked. "What's that?"
Sunset got up off the couch, and held her hand out to Starlight. "Come with me."
===
Starlight had never been atop a roof before. Certainly not one this high, anyway. Sometimes she'd be called on to fix leaky roofs after the odd storm over her old town, but they were a far cry from something like this.
She could see everyone, everything, and they were all so small, but still detailed and distinct. They were still people. Oh, and cars. Those large, strange mysterious things that were still boring compared to Sunset's bike. The sky stretched out forever. She could see the evening countryside in the distance, see the streetlamp-dotted city below, smell both from where she stood along with the faint smell of diner food and tea.
Honestly. Pegasi had all the luck sometimes, being able to hover high up anywhere they wanted, without having to devote tons of mental and magical concentration to the task like she did if she wanted to even levitate.
Sunset had led Starlight up to the roof of Zecora's building, holding her hand the entire way—which was good, because even now, a couple of days removed from her scary lucid dream, Starlight still wasn't sure how much of a grasp she held on reality. But looking over the roof's view now... this was the first time she saw that as something approaching a good thing.
Sunset turned to her. "Twilight and I have been working on all of our Harmonic Geodes—analyzing their natures, exploring their possible connection to Equestria, and testing the limits of the powers they grant us. She came up with some exercises for me to try out and... well, I've been practicing. I want to see if something will work, though." Sunset took a deep breath, exhaled, then unclasped her pendant from her neck and placed it in her hand. "Hold my hand again."
Starlight looked down at the orange, shining-sun-embossed pendant. "Just... hold it? While touching the stone?"
Sunset nodded. "It's safe. Worst that happens is... nothing, and I have to do a big speech. But if you can see this in person, feel what's happening, I think it'll help a whole lot more."
"All right, then." Starlight clasped Sunset's hand, and at the same time, Sunset closed her eyes.
And in moments, the world Starlight stood in was no longer her own.
===
Starlight floated in space, in a haze, until things cleared up just enough for her to see that she was no longer on Zecora's rooftop.
She was, however, still on a rooftop. She saw that Sunset was, too. "Sunset?" she asked, before noticing that the entire world was off-color. Briefly, a pang of fear hit her. Was she having the same vision she'd had days ago?
"Sunset!" she said again.
Sunset didn't answer. She also looked... different. Much different. A much brighter outfit. Bouncier hair that swayed in the light breeze. Starlight looked around herself, finally noticing a flagged tower that she vaguely recognized as belonging to Canterlot High School.
These must be Sunset's memories.
She studied Sunset, who had a different look on her face too. Different looks. A new one every moment, constantly switching as she moved around.
Fear and exhilaration.
Sunset walked along the roof, jogging at points, singing at the top of her lungs at the dawn of the morning—oh, it was dawn. Starlight wished she had that amount of courage.
Wonder and sadness.
Starlight could hear the lyrics, now that she was actively listening out for them. About who Sunset had been, who she was trying to be, what she was going through now. How she felt about herself and the world.
Regret and curiosity.
But what if she pushed forward anyway? What if she did admit her past, but refused to wallow in it? What if she refused to make her past her every day?
Determination.
And naught else.
To live with the fear. To love herself anyway. Starlight was beginning to feel... was it possible to be intimidated by a memory?
She saw tufts of magic swirl around Sunset as she made her decision, smiling through the sadness, enjoying the rush of magical affirmation, however temporary it might prove to be in the future, along with improvised, burning wings, signifying the princess Sunset had always wanted to be...
Only now of a different sort.
Starlight was sure of it now. She envied Sunset Shimmer as much as she respected her. Every single facet of her. She was strong, strong enough to face the danger, to dance through it, even.
The memory faded, and Starlight opened her eyes. The two jolted away from each other, catching their breath as the geode sparked between them. Once they recovered, they communicated once more with expressions alone.
Sunset's unmoving, inquisitive look: Did you get all that? Did it actually work?
Starlight's wide-eyed and open-jawed nod: That... was amazing. I can't believe what I just saw. She put her hand to her head. Actually, no, I totally can.
Sunset smiled. "It did work. Oh, wow. This is awesome, it's going to be incredible when I put it into practice! Not to mention tell Twili—" She stopped. "Wait. Did it have audio? That was, like, the most important part."
Starlight nodded. "It did."
Sunset wiped her brow. "Whew, thank goodness. Yeah. Definitely incredible. Thanks so much for helping with that. And..." She rubbed the back of her head. "For trusting me."
"I haven't had any reason not to yet," Starlight said. "But what did I just see?"
Sunset smiled, wide and reminiscing, as she walked back to Starlight. "That was... something that happened when I realized I wanted to be friends to people, after I finally caught the tiniest hint of what that actually meant." She fastened her pendant back around her neck. "But back then, people still hated me for what I did—a lot more verbally than they do now.
"I tried to erase it all by just being 'good'. By helping as many people as I could. Maybe by saving a world or two. And yet, I could never shake the pain or crushing guilt that would overtake me the moment someone reminded me of how I used to be just mere months ago." She positioned herself in front of Starlight, and took both of Starlight's hands in hers. "Sound familiar?"
Starlight nodded, shakily gripping Sunset's hands in return. She didn't want to let go. She refused to let go. Not of the only person she'd ever been able to talk to so far that had so much of a bead on her life and herself.
Why hadn't they done this sooner?
The moon was visible in the sky now, illuminating both girls and the city around them. Sunset closed her eyes, speaking softly, her hair shifting in the light breeze, just like in the memory.
"There are a lot of people—and ponies—who would say that those who've done what we've done deserve to suffer forever. To face 'consequences' every waking moment of our lives, until some arbitrary debt of their choosing is paid."
With a gulp, Starlight nodded.
Sunset opened her eyes, looking moonward, her face as determined as it was was back on Canterlot High's roof. One side of her lips turned up as she scoffed. "Me, I tend not to agree with 'popular opinion' much. And today's no exception. All of the events in my life, all of the mistakes I've made, happened because I thought I was entitled to power, simply by virtue of being brought into the world. And even now, I couldn't tell you why that was. I just... did. And it was the longest time before I was forcibly convinced that the universe—the multiverse—didn't work that way."
Sunset brought her right hand up and cupped Starlight's cheek, meeting Starlight's eyes directly.
"So, from where I stand? Forming values and trying to make life decisions under the unavoidable weight of a lonely, broken heart, is never a 'stupid reason'. It doesn't excuse what you did, any more than I can be excused for what I've done. But anyone who condemns the emotions that led to those actions, or the pony behind them after they've seen her for all she truly is now? Has lost touch with what it means to have a soul. Plain and simple."
Starlight immediately felt weak, inside and out. Her bones no longer existed, her heart skipped several beats, her brain's impulses went utterly on strike. It was a wonder she could still breathe, let alone listen, but she nevertheless resolved to not miss a single word.
"Princess Twilight knew that, too," Sunset continued, stroking her thumb along Starlight's cheek as the latter's breaths shortened. "That's why I got the rainbow laser, while you received empathy, words and direct teaching. I don't know how I can convince you by myself, but you are completely deserving of forgiveness, love and friendship, Starlight. No matter where you've been or what you've done, and especially since you're so committed to setting those things right.
"I was evil. You were misguided and sad. And yet, here we are. We found each other, shared each other, and I couldn't be happier for both. Because I thought I was alone in this. I thought I was alone in being... well, me."
"I thought I was too," Starlight barely croaked, every part of her body still feeling like immobile jelly. She might have fallen over had Sunset not braced her by placing her hands on her shoulders, leaning forward, and planting her lips to Starlight's forehead for an instant, before wrapping her arms around Starlight entirely.
"This is what I'm sure of," Sunset said, before bringing her voice down to the softest whisper in Starlight's ears. "You are a good pony, Starlight Glimmer. Your feelings and emotions are valid. They always were. You always were. Your past actions spoke for one pony at one stage of her life, and your current actions speak for another pony—a pony who has learned a lifetime's worth of lessons in a short amount of time, and a pony who anyone, in any universe, would be proud to know and love."
Starlight lost her ability to stand, falling the rest of the way into Sunset. She had never, ever heard anyone say that before, much less with such conviction. She also had no idea until this very moment just how much she needed to hear someone, anyone, say that.
Because, heck, not even her own father—though he had no idea what was in her heart. It had just... never come up.
"Maybe those two ponies aren't all that different," Sunset said, pulling back to be face-to-face again. "But speaking from experience, you'll have to come to that conclusion on your own. In the meantime, I know for a fact that there are so many people, ponies and creatures who love you." Sunset's eyes sparkled into Starlight's. "Myself included."
For the third time that night, Starlight's eyes may as well not have existed for how waterlogged they were. At the same time, it was impossible to control just and big and wide her grin was.
Amidst the most exhilarating, ecstatic, joyful heartache she'd ever experienced her life, Starlight Glimmer stopped trying to move, stopped fighting her current weakness, and embraced her vulnerability and Sunset in a single move, with a single whispered sentence:
Starlight Glimmer walked back into Sunset's bedroom, having changed into a spare pair of orange pajamas. It turned out they weren't exactly the same size—the bottoms were a little short in the legs—and the ensemble definitely wasn't her color. But given that she'd come through the mirror wearing literally nothing, she figured she'd come out ahead in the fashion department.
As she walked in, Sunset, wearing her own black pajamas patterned with her cutie mark, sized her up. "Yeah, definitely not your color. We'll go shopping tomorrow—" She snapped her fingers. "Better idea. Rarity first, then shopping. I'm sure she'll have a million brainstorms about your color scheme. I don't think she's run into it before."
Two of everyone, Starlight reminded herself. "Still haven't found the other me in this world, eh? Guess I'm one of a kind."
Sunset grinned. "Now you're thinking like a Shimmer."
Starlight grinned back. "I'll take that as a compliment. For now. Anyway, Rarity visit definitely sounds like a plan." She turned to walk over to the sofa bed—which Sunset had already pulled out and made while Starlight had been changing—but then turned back. "Sunset?"
Sunset looked up from her phone, where she had been busily texting. "What's up?"
Hands behind her back, Starlight shuffled over to Sunset, looking in either direction before just looking ahead of herself towards her friend. "I just... I really wanted to thank you. For everything tonight. When I first wrote to you in Twilight's book, I thought it was because I just wanted to run away from everything. And that might have been part of it, but not all. Maybe I..." She hesitated, then decided to just push ahead. "Maybe I just missed you. Maybe a part of me just... knew something, felt something, the last time we met, but couldn't really place it. And tried to tell me that spending more time together was just the right thing to do because we had a lot we could talk about—" Starlight put her hand to her forehead. "Sorry, rambling, trying to make sense of this, ugh, forget it. What I mean is... thanks for understanding me. And... for saying those things. I appreciate it."
Sunset closed the distance between them, and brought Starlight's hand down, holding it. "I missed you too," she said. "Take what I said to heart, and we'll call it even."
Starlight fought with a Rockhoofian effort to speak through her burning cheeks. "I'll do my absolute best."
"Great. And remember, this is just day one of your vacay. Let's see if we can't get to the heart of your emotions while you're here... and then you can start making some decisions." Sunset let go, walking back to her bed. "We won't be able to do that without rest, though."
Sunset was right. Starlight walked back to the sofa bed, pulled back the covers, and crawled inside. Soon, she saw the light go out, leaving only the faintest light of the moon in the room. She closed her eyes.
After an indeterminate amount of time, as Starlight floated in the limbo of consciousness, she heard Sunset's voice, soft and close by. "Hey. Hey, Starlight. Are you asleep yet?"
Starlight opened her eyes and turned around to see Sunset sitting on the arm of a sofa. "Anyone ever tell you you're a ninja?" she groaned.
"Couple of times. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's all right." Starlight propped herself up on one elbow. "What's up?"
"I've just been thinking about all this," Sunset said. "And about us. And I realized something. As crazy as the Elements of Harmony drove me, they also were a guiding force, showing me what I had the potential to be, one day. They gave me blueprints, and something to work towards. But... you haven't had that. You've never had that. We both have friends by our side, but you've otherwise had to figure out who you can be, all on your own, all your life, and even now."
Starlight nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's true." She scoffed. "Wow, Glimmer. Never an easy moment for you, huh?"
Sunset chuckled. "I guess not. But what I mean is, don't feel bad about your progress, ever. Because it's always progress. Making one's own path in life is never easy. I'm only learning that now, but that's always been your thing. And I think you're very brave to take on the challenge." She stood up. "That's all that was on my mind. Good night, Starlight." She walked back to her bed.
"Night, Sunset," Starlight said, as the two snuggled back into their beds, and went back to sleep.
It was late morning, and both girls were back in suburban Canterlot, sitting at a booth in a small diner on the edge of town.
"So, million-dollar question," Sunset said as she and Starlight waited for their orders to be prepared. "How did you sleep?"
It was the question Starlight had been hoping Sunset would ask as soon as possible, just so they could get it out of the way. "As well as I could?" she replied. "I actually didn't dream at all, which was refreshing. Looks like no news is good news—really good news in my case."
"No kidding," Sunset said. "I'm glad to hear it."
Starlight nodded. "I'm definitely in a slightly better place than I've been over the last few days, for now. But that doesn't mean this is anywhere near over. I still want to know why my magic... hijacked me, but I'm afraid to go back to find out. Not yet. Need to... still need to vacation." She exhaled. "And a place where I don't have any magic to my name is still the best candidate."
"We'll get to the bottom of it," Sunset said. "I promise."
Starlight started to respond, to say how much she trusted Sunset's words, but it was then that the waiter—a beige-colored boy with blue spiky hair, and a white work apron hastily tied over his khakis and shirt—arrived with two dishes. "All righty, that's one deluxe fruit salad, and one pancake tower," he said. "Enjoy, Shimmer and Posse. Let me know if you need anything else."
"Thanks, Flash," Sunset said with a sincere smile. "How's this new gig working out for you?"
"You know, I didn't think I'd like it at first, but it's actually going really great." Flash beamed. "It's part-time, meaning I don't miss out on everything with my friends, but at the same time it's nice to just have a quiet place with all grown-up customers who aren't so loud. One gets enough decibels in your diet from rockout practice, if you get my meaning." He mimed strumming a guitar with his fingers.
"Hell, yeah. Big mood," Sunset said, holding out her fist for Flash to bump. "Oh, also, as far as the 'posse' goes: Starlight, this is Flash Sentry. Flash Sentry, Starlight Glimmer. She's from out of town."
"Oh! Hi, nice to meet you, Starlight," he said, shaking Starlight's extended hand... before raising an eyebrow towards Sunset. "Mind if I ask how far out of town?"
"Spoilers," Sunset said.
Flash chuckled, shaking his head. "Ahhh, whatever. You know the visitor I'm waiting for. Anyone else, long as you don't cause a world-endangering magical catastrophe, you're a-okay in my book. Enjoy your stay here!" he said, walking off to tend to other customers.
Starlight walked him leave, then turned to Sunset with the first question that came to mind. "Wait. That's a Flash Sentry? The 'dreamboat' from Twilight's di—I mean, that Spike's told me about once or twice and that's totally the only way I know him I swear?"
"Yeah," Sunset said, sighing with a spaceward stare. "Looking back on it, he probably always was." She looked back to Starlight, who was making starry eyes at the stack of flapjacks in front of her. "So, I'm the last one to judge peoples' eating preferences," she said, looking around at the modest portions of the rest of the diner's clientele.,"but since I am paying for this: Are you actually going to eat all ten of those?"
"Yeah, so, I used to live in a town where I ate not much else but sticks, bland bread and the occasional vegetable root, entirely by my mayoral decree." Starlight slathered on a bunch of maple syrup over the stack, raised her knife and fork, and dug in. "My penance is an eternal craving for double sugar and carbs at every meal. Speaking of, though: has Princess Twilight ever told you about her pancake misadventures?"
"What?" Sunset gasped, slamming her hands on the table. "They're real? She keeps pretending they're not! Like, sometimes she writes to me saying 'I had another pancake incident today, I wish I could quit them,' and I'll be like 'tell me, I'll listen, also this sounds hilarious already', and she'll say 'it's nothing interesting', and I'm all 'filly, please, you're not fooling anypony with—'"
"Oh, they are that interesting." Starlight leaned in, her smile conspiratorial. "I promise."
Sunset pointed to Starlight's plate. "Okay. Every story gets you a free stack of those from now until your vacation is finished."
Starlight squealed. "Deal! Just know what you've gotten yourself into, though: there are a million stories. But it all starts with the very first one, where she pulled an all-nighter and then woke up with a stack perfectly balanced on her head—"
"There you are! Hey, Sunset!" a new, female voice sounded from their left, causing Starlight and Sunset to turn their heads.
The voice's owner rushed up to the booth, plopping her hands down on the table upon arrival. "I'm here like you asked: high noon on the dot, just like in all the old westerns! What's this really important cool thing you'd said I would totally love?"
Sunset smiled to the new arrival, then turned to Starlight.
It took Starlight and the new girl—a bespectacled, green-haired ivory teenager wearing a purple blouse, black skirt with fuchsia polka dots, and carrying a green camera bag—a few seconds to recognize each other, but the moment they simultaneously did, they gasped, putting their hands to their mouths.
The new girl stared at Starlight with shining eyes, tears already threatening at their corners. "Holy crap. Hi, Starlight," she breathed.
