Sunset Shimmer, fresh through the portal in a strange world, meets a most captivating fey.
Thirty moons before Sunset Shimmer returned to Equestria to steal the Element of Magic, she fled into a strange world.
Lost and disoriented, yet still burning with ambition, she runs into someone who is eerily familiar - and yet so very different from the saccharine pink alicorn whose wings she so deeply resents.
Taken under the wing of a disguised Chrysalis, Sunset starts to learn the ways of this world - and how to control it. A bond blossoms between them, an unexpectedly compelling anchor to this alien world.
Sunset Shimmer, unicorn prodigy in exile, leaned against a wall for support. The strange local apes confidently strode through the bustling hall around her, blissfully ignorant of the inherent instability of a limb configuration their sense of balance had long ago adapted to. She felt a pang of envy, and her eyes narrowed.
What minor challenge was this, compared to mastering magic, ascending to greatness, taking her rightful place? Mere proprioception was no match for her talent. If anything, she needed a few novel puzzles like this to keep her skills sharp while her magic was – restricted.
(It wasn’t, couldn’t be - gone. Just … temporarily inaccessible.)
She studied one of the school’s students, observing the movements of his legs and composing her plan of attack. Once prepared, she strode on in aggressive imitation - moving as he moved - pushing this new body to do what it was clearly designed to.
It felt like she was constantly falling forward, flat feet - rolling? - over themselves like careening chariot wheels. None of the smoothness she witnessed manifested; instead unsteady, shaky, uncontrollable movement propelled her forward.
And yet, she did move forward.
While the portal’s magic had given her ears for the local tongue, she could barely stand the bustle of unfamiliar chatter. She knew very little of this place yet - closer observation would be needed to make it anything other than meaningless. Once she’d finally made it to what seemed to be the cafeteria, she leaned into a quiet corner to observe the interactions between these people, and how they related to each other.
The manipulators at the end of their forelimbs played a major part in it, as well as the forelimbs themselves. Freed from the necessity of using them for locomotion, they used them for most all their endeavors in some fashion, leveraging the unique appendages for actions she’d need magic or both hoof and mouth for as well as their social rituals. One of these appeared to be forceful contact between said appendages, in a playful roughhousing fashion. Another involved wrapping forelimbs about each other.
She tried them both out on some of the students she passed - to rather confused reactions. Would need to look into the specifics further.
(In hindsight - a high five and slapping someone’s hand were rather different things, and the second endeavor, as well as being out of place for a stranger, came across as accidentally falling on someone and trying to use them to keep from falling further.)
Regardless of her mangled attempts at emulating the apes’ social rituals, she needed sustenance, and ideally she’d acquire it without further interaction with trying to relate to anyone. The cafeteria had a machine for dispensing food that seemed promising. Principal Celestia (that woman was familiar enough Sunset had an idea how to win favor from her, at least - and the other Celestia was proving very useful in settling into this world) had given her some cash she could use, and she’d seen other students trading money to the machine to grab their snacks.
In practice, it proved a bit more complex than initially anticipated. The machine’s intelligence was limited, spitting out the bits unless it was told precisely how much they were and what she wanted to buy with them (and apparently not in that order). The mechanisms were - unreliable; when she finally got it to spin - the snack stubbornly clung to not falling. Arguing with it didn’t exactly seem to work. What fool made a device powered by mechanisms as idiotic and unreliable as whatever crude magic animated this -
She felt the pressure of the line forming behind her, a hot flush creeping up the back of her neck and ears as she struggled with the vending machine. Finally, for twice the price of her prize she managed to acquire the meagre bag of carrots she’d been after. She heard the snickers and felt the stares following her as she stalked off, anticipation of the sweet vegetable’s crunch turned sour.
In one sense, the computer she was expected to do her classwork on was a much smarter machine. In practice, ‘much smarter’ was very much relative. She had no training in the odd ways that her digits were supposed to impact the bewildering array of key options; instead of the intuitive sorting and narrowing of options between two hooves the Equestrian equivalent performed, she had to immediately hit one tiny set of a hundred options, or worse - a combination. The ‘mouse’ device to point at her screen moved somewhere entirely separate from her focus, splitting attention she didn’t have to spare.
All so natural for her classmates. She was slow, behind, inadequate to a quite embarrassing degree for a prodigy. Some made surprised or teasing comments on noticing her confusion over the device - and she pulled back. Most backed away at a curt comment, and she worked in isolation, doing her best to hide her struggles.
The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough, social challenges giving way to the simpler challenges of shelter and survival. Balancing on wheels was no harder than legs, and the swiftness the bike lent her gave her a sense of freedom that more than made up for the constant sense of falling.
(Flight would be like falling. Always forward, always fast, the wind in your mane. Nothing solid under your feet - soaring purely by your power and the winds of greatness.)
(She could taste it. Feel an echo of it, on the bicycle. At times it tasted like gravel - but she always got up from the crash.)
Her job would give her some bits, some experience observing people. The library to do her homework in. And sleep …
The trials of highschool continued. Sunset could make it through the hallway without so much issue now, but much of the social glue still escaped her. Wasn’t exactly easy, when your only way into the herd was an elder authority figure you had very mixed feelings about. Teacher’s pets weren’t the most popular and principal’s weren’t much better. Good excuse for her to get this Celestia to give her some distance, but being completely alone didn’t exactly improve the situation.
Neither did the number of remedial classes she had to take to catch up with the basic education of the locals. Annoyingly, even enrolling as a freshman, she couldn’t see a way to cover all the basics and graduate with the rest of the class. Celestia assured her taking five years was - acceptable. That plenty did. Sunset wasn’t sure she bought it. It was like being back in magic kindergarten, but even more humiliating because most of the school wasn’t. Graduation year wouldn’t be a big deal if she went back to Equestria again when the portal opened, but –
She was stuck here. Should learn what she could about the place.
Luckily, it did seem to be an interesting year to have jumped in on, so far as the options for ‘interesting’ went in this place. Principal Celestia gathered the school together to make an announcement - some manner of joint event with another school called the “Friendship Games”.
The other students weren’t especially enthused by it - apparently Canterlot High struggled when it came to competing with this Crystal Prep Academy. Why they struggled, though, sounded rather interesting.
Crystal Prep students were known to be extremely smart, athletic, and motivated. All qualities Sunset quite approved of. And it was a networking event - with high quality peers, better suited to her own inclinations, and who hadn’t watched her most humiliating struggles over the past few days and formed their mistaken opinions accordingly.
It was a chance to learn, to network, and ideally even to gain a more intelligent perspective on this new world. Not without apprehension, Sunset resolved to attend and make the best of it.
She found herself lingering on the outskirts of the opening celebration, keeping a safe distance and observing, wary of attempting to mingle too early. The ease, camaraderie and friendly rivalry with which the other students interacted with their school’s teams and each other made her wince: sorely wishing to join, but wary of mistakes she can’t afford. Embarrassment and ridicule from Canterlot High is bad enough, but frankly, they’re all idiots themselves - they’d forget and forgive soon enough. Making the same questionable first impression on the actually ambitious residents of this world would be more difficult to recover from.
Sunset considered taking her leave, coming back when she felt more confident in approaching the humans - but before she could, her choice was made for her, an oddly familiar woman with pink hair moving towards her to strike up a conversation.
“Well hello there. Noticed you seemed a bit alone back here.”
She couldn’t place her at first, but the voice hits her before the older girl gives her name - a bit more sultry in its warmth, but the connection is inescapable.
That damned alicorn. That damned alicorn. Who got her horn without even wanting it, adopted into the family Sunset had worked so hard to prove herself to and failed -
Princess Cadance.
Princess Cadance had always been nice to her. She’d generally been … disinclined to return the favor.
This Cadance was being nice to her. It raised her hackles on reflex -
But no human was an alicorn. Hardly fair to blame this one for that. She needed allies. And she didn’t have too many options here.
“New in town,” Sunset answered by explanation once the shock had worn off. “Not as familiar as everyone else with all this. What’s even going on with these games?”
Cadence grinned, a pearly flash of teeth.
“Oh, good. Something I’m an expert on. I was hoping I’d get to show off a bit tonight.” She extends a hand in offering. “Team Captain Mi Amore Cadenza. A pleasure to meet you, …?”
“Sunset Shimmer,” Sunset answers, gripping Cadance - Cadenza’s - hand to shake. Princess Cadance had always insisted on the nickname, uncomfortable with … Sunset wasn’t entirely sure what she was uncomfortable with. Regardless, the small difference set her more at ease. This wasn’t the pony she knew.
Cadenza guides her through an understanding of some of the games and activities, which Sunset appreciates, though it’s not the part of their conversation that most piques her attention.
“If you pay attention, more than your own team’s useful to you. This is a networking event as much as anything - Canterlot High won’t win, but its best and brightest will impress someone.” Cadenza comments, causing Sunset to smirk at her brazen confidence.
“That’s what I am to you, huh? Useful?” she teases, eliciting a chuckle.
“Mm… I don’t know, are you?” Cadenza teases back, then nods in the direction of the school officials and other captains. “Them I’m sure about. You … well, worth taking a look, no?”
Sunset smiles. Cadenza’s perspective makes much more sense than anything she’s ever heard from Princess Cadance. The girl actually has ambition, talent, insight - so many qualities that overglorified provincial pegasus had proved lacking in. She thought much more like Sunset. Maybe she’d have actually deserved to have the honors that luck had thrown at her undeserving counterpart on a silver platter.
“Hah. I’m brilliant. Smartest student here,” Sunset challenges playfully, comfortable with a - possible - exaggeration over affecting false modesty. She decides that Cadenza’s worth confiding in, to limit misinterpretations of her challenges at the very least. “But it’s rough getting started. You see, I’m really new here …”
So that's how high fives work.
Sometimes, you just hit it off with somepony. Cadenza had a confidence to her Sunset had never seen in Cadence, and the kind of charming, sly smile that gave you the sense she was taking you into her confidence. They had found a quiet spot to just sit and chat, and Sunset found she was enjoying myself more than she had in a long time.
“You might have guessed by my name that I’m rather new here also,” Cadenza admits amusedly.
“A word name in an entirely different language? Never would have guessed,” Sunset teased. “Takes one to know one, huh? What’s it even mean?” She knew, of course, but perhaps she could needle -
“My love Cadence,” Cadenza translates with a damnably straight face, interrupting Sunset’s plans and causing her to choke with laughter.
“And you want me to call you that huh? I barely even know you!” She looked for signs that her teasing a name of all things might be received poorly - but Mi Amore Cadenza was smug and amused, if anything.
“Ah, but you might soon, no? And we’ll want to have gotten off on the right foot. The foot of you regarding me with utter adoration.” Cadenza teased back. Sunset felt a slight heat in her cheeks at the reversal, but nothing so unpleasant as embarrassment. She was still up and fighting in this pleasant verbal spar.
“You introduce yourself that way to everyone,” Sunset challenged, watching Cadenza to see if any denial was forthcoming; but Cadenza merely tipped her a gracious nod.
“Of course. The more loyal minions the better, as I see it,” Cadenza assessed casually and to Sunset’s sympathetic laugh.
“Touché.”
“Anyway, I know something about what it is like to try and catch up with the local culture and curriculum.” Cadenza’s voice softened sympathetically, touching back on the subject she’d first brought up. “I do have a few tricks for it, but it’s been a challenge in particular trying to balance the academics with volunteering as team captain. Couldn’t not take the chance when it came up, though - being so prominently involved in the Friendship Games was an amazing opportunity.”
“I’ve always been a great student,” Sunset observes. “Just don’t know the rules here that well yet. Those tricks could come in handy if you want to share them, and maybe I could help you with the academics once I’m caught up.” She offers it impulsively to the older student; Cadenza looks amused at her certainty.
“Quite confident in yourself to offer to tutor an upperclassman on subjects you do not even know yet,” she comments dryly, to Sunset’s shrug. “But I suspect you are not wrong. And that makes you interesting. You have a phone?”
“Not great with it yet,” Sunset admits, “but I needed to get it working for my job.”
“Give me it and your hand then. If it has fingerprint recognition. I will connect us.”
In the days and weeks after meeting, Sunset texted Cadenza whenever she had a question, getting valuable insight and advice on adapting to the human world - how to use her phone was a pretty urgent one in terms of smoother communication, but also how the education system worked, the ways social groups formed, and other useful information. Cadenza always had something useful to say, and absorbing her input gave Sunset confidence in navigating the new environment.
Their conversations didn’t always dwell on the practical - topics expanding as they got more comfortable with each other, meeting up after shared school events just to chat about whatever went down and how their lives were going. Sunset found herself looking forward to this enough to suggest meeting up just for the sake of it, after a time, and Cadenza proved receptive.
One afternoon, they met up to catch a movie even Sunset had picked up on the hype for - some manner of modern fantasy based on a popular book series that Cadenza estimated everyone into popular culture at either of their highschools would be familiar with. Enjoyable and useful for them both, ideally.
“So frustratingly simplistic,” Cadenza commented afterwards, to Sunset’s amused surprise. “The church did far too good a job at crushing the life out of fairy stories, I think. Making them into the sort of just-so drivel where you can throw them in as a saccharine benefactor or monstrous warning fable to control your children and less convenient populace. I’d almost respect it, but so much of the nuance got pushed out, attempting to add any moral complications back in comes across so - laughably edgy. They’d do better to go back to the old myths.”
“You’d think you took it personally,” Sunset remarked amusedly.
“Hmmph. Maybe I do.”
It was a strange tune Cadenza was humming, just before Sunset caught up with her. Beautiful in an old way, like a baroque composer, but eerie in melody.
Also, she’d not yet heard a human hum a chord.
Sunset wondered if names had their own magic here; if Cadance was as much a special talent as a means of referring to a person.
Then there was the time she caught Cadenza almost getting into an argument with the Shadowbolts. One of the boys - Shining Armor - was protesting some call Sunset understood very little about, and Cadenza seemed to be losing patience with him - until she schooled her features, looked him in the eye and smiled softly.
“I understand you aren’t feeling the best,” Cadenza changed tack after her observations, speaking gently, and Shining Armor groaned in confirmation. “Got a headache that’s been acting up,” he admitted, to Cadenza’s wince.
“Oh dear,” Cadenza murmured. “Let me try to help you with the tension..”
Sunset felt a twist in her gut as Mi Amore Cadenza moved to massage Shining Armor’s temples; a tight, hot ball of fire simmering angrily just under her diaphragm. She pulled back to take another route rather than interrupt the pair - but not before she caught a glimpse of a pale green glow from Cadenza’s eyes.
The strange pang of jealousy was meaningless - what did she care if Cadenza wanted to give massages to her team when they needed them - but other clues were adding up to be rather meaningful indeed. Mi Amore Cadenza had magic of some form. She was out of the ordinary for this place, with at least subtly inhuman abilities, possessed of knowledge and insight that had already brought Sunset so far - perhaps even farther if she could simply get in on the girl’s secret.
Sunset’s curiosity burned. She didn’t text Cadenza to meet up after the Friendship events - instead mentioning some job duty invented out of whole cloth. Instead, she lingered out of sight of where Cadenza parted from her team, and trailed her at a distance.
When Cadenza turns into a shadowy, secluded alley, Sunset hurried to peek from the corner, and watched entranced.
The pale pink of Cadenza’s skin dripped away as her limbs lengthened to spindly proportions and her fingers stretched into claws, nail-caps spread and hardening into properly solid keratin. Beneath was a skeletally slender creature of midnight-blue darkness and shifting shadows. Pastel curls lost their bounce, flattening into a deep teal mane streaked with the startling glow of electric cyan, jagged-edged and frayed with split ends and inconsistent volume. Violet eyes shifted to green, even the whites of them taking on a reflective glow of pale mint.
She stretched her - wings. Some of the strangest Sunset had ever seen, and yet captivating. In structure they reminded her of a bat’s; but the leathery membrane between the fingerbones was an ethereal, translucent aquamarine, gleaming like the gem’s subtle lustre and as ragged with holes as sheer lace.
Sunset wondered how flight even worked with such a structure - then realized that however it worked, she needed to act before it did. She rushed forward to step into - Cadenza’s? - path.
“You aren’t Cadance.” It’s a strange thing to say, given she’s been addressing the other as Cadenza the whole time - but she’s certain this figure isn’t, can’t, be a counterpart to the pink alicorn.
Hasn’t been from the start. She’s not particularly worried about her own friend. This explains too much.
“I am not,” the winged woman agrees calmly, unperturbed by Sunset’s sudden presence. “Do you think the human world would accept this form, unperturbed and incurious, treating it as a normal member of society? Cadenza is a necessary mask, to blend in and pursue my aims without … complications. I am sure you are familiar with such necessities.”
The ‘unicorn’ goes unspoken. Unknown, even. Sunset has given her enough clues, asked for enough aid for a fellow infiltrator to discern how out of place she is - but not the specifics.
“So who are you?” Sunset asked. The other smiles a sharp smile, stepping closer to circle her, considering and deliberate in her answer.
“You may call me Chrysalis,” is the start of it, but not the whole, “Fey queen of the damned, the destitute, the hopeless … and the alone. Your heart called out to me, Sunset Shimmer. From the start I knew you to be mine.”
Sunset’s breath quickened, reflexive anger and intrigue at the presumption warring in the heat of her blood. Her own role, though, almost paled in contrast to the tantalizing puzzle Chrysalis presented. She had thought this world near without magic, shallow and dominated by the human civilization with its mundane tools.
Yet here was Chrysalis. In the shadows of secrecy of this world, the supernatural stirred, cloaked and hidden. Masters of magic Sunset may have never seen before, in either realm. She licked her lips, too aware of the part of her that salivated over the possibilities.
Chrysalis had a knowing smile. If the fey woman knew her heart …
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sunset challenged, pulse pounding in her ears. She heard her own barbed tone and reconsidered, repeating a softer form of the question. “I mean - what are you, really? I’ve never met anyone like you even back -”
It hits her that she hasn’t exactly told Chrysalis what she is, either.
“- home.”
Chrysalis studies her contemplatively. “And your home is an interesting place, by implication … of course, words like fey, fairy, changeling, they could mean anything to you with how broad a brush the humans paint their myths.” Chrysalis shakes her head dismissively. “No, what is interesting to you is … specifics.” That smile again - her canines are longer, sharper, Sunset is sure - and a step closer.
“I am the shepherd of the lost, young traveler,” Chrysalis purrs, a hypnotic melody weaving through her words, harmonized by the wind through her wings. “Savior of the dying, protector of the damned.”
“When all hope is lost, Your last chance spent Your heart cries out because you’re all alone Your every breath is ragged, you might not draw the next Our shadows on the west wind fly to bring you home. My flock lurks in the shadows, my kingdom destitute, No riches nor regards the humans spare When they do nothing for you we’ll be there…
Through the workings of desire, I weave myself a mask To infiltrate the humans and pursue my secret task Every soul who comes to my embrace - each shares a different story, And each lost soul who gains their wings whispers of my glory.
You, dear Sunset, called to me A kindred spirit, wild and free In the shadows our fates entwine - Together, we might fate redefine.”
Sunset’s hands are in Chrysalis’s by the end of the song; the fey woman’s green eyes gaze into hers, lingering in a way that makes her pulse quicken and her mind race - what kind of alliance was being offered here? Secrecy was one thing, but Chrysalis’s disguise seemed to add another layer of deceit to what she spoke of as a noble mission … Sunset had her doubts that the humans would be purely grateful if the girl were exposed for what she was.
But two considerations weighed on her thoughts, outweighing all due caution and suspicion in their simplicity.
The pact was forged, alliance sealed by the tight squeeze of clawed hands in an alley, and Sunset started to add some somewhat more secretive meetings to her schedule. Cadenza’s lessons had had an air of plausible deniability to any manipulation tactics she shared - just a social art, easily cloaked in the upbeat language of How to Win Friends and Influence People - but Chrysalis was much more forthright with her new apprentice, away from eavesdroppers and her disguise.
Chrysalis did not care if she hurt humans. She taught Sunset what made for effective lies, threats, extortion and - control. Ways to wrap a naive and trusting population around the shortest of Sunset’s strange new digits and make them dance to her tune.
To be adored and feared in equal measure.
Sunset did not have Chrysalis’s fey senses, not yet, but the taste of it was delicious.
One part of their arrangement still bothered her, though - Cadenza’s apparent close affection with Shining Armor. The two were openly dating, and as Sunset gained more insight into what made these humans tick, she could increasingly tell he was quite taken with his team captain. Also all the ways in which he wasn’t like her at all. He was capable, sure, but he also lived up to his name.
“Hey, so - what’s up with you and Shining Armor?” Sunset asked one of their meetings, surprising herself slightly. There were some obvious answers to guess at, but she wasn’t quite sure about any of them. “Just a nice enough guy even a bad girl like you fell for him?” She asked wryly, quirking one eyebrow.
Chrysalis chortled in answer, a raspy buzzing sound that held none of her delighted amusement back. Sunset basked to be entrusted with the inhuman noise, fondly regarding the fierce fey’s gleefulness at her light teasing. Seemed like a positive sign.
“I have no love for Shining Armor,” Chrysalis dismissed once she’d again found her voice. “The boy is a means to an end, nothing more. But as tools go, he is a quite useful one.”
Sunset wasn’t sure the matter-of-fact statement warranted her strange flood of relief. She’d expected as much, or so she told herself. Part of her warned that she might be in the same position and was met with an indifferent shrug from the rest of her, which was rather intrigued by the idea of being in the same positions Chrysalis might have put Shining Armor into.
What she asked, though, was -
“What end?”
Chrysalis’s plan was horrifying.
Chrysalis’s plan would be a tactical masterstroke; strengthening the power of her flock while simultaneously conquering a prestigious, yet beneath the notice of military intelligence, lair of operations in which to hide themselves - Crystal Prep Academy.
The wings Chrysalis gave wouldn’t be optional.
Sunset was aiding her anyway.
What choice did she have, really?
Help the alluring, beautiful, powerful, magical woman who was her one true friend in this world, to conquer and claim power rightly due her.
Well into the school year, all the social events and practices and preparations, and finally the competitions proper were set to start.
A bubbling, buzzing anticipation flowed through the student body of Canterlot High, participants and supporters invigorated and energized as they stepped up their preparation for the Games. Sunset envied the easy camaraderie she saw within the teams as she began to more closely observe them, carefully watching from the sidelines.
She didn’t have as much chance to watch the preparations of Crystal Prep, but Chrysalis kept her informed. Getting some insight into Chrysalis’s fey magic was a side benefit as she regaled Sunset with relished updates of the progress of her plots.
“Shining Armor was quite deeply impressed with the training session I planned for them,” Chrysalis bragged, her wings flaring with a whistling of pride. “Of course he was. I looked into the minds of each of them to find exactly where each was struggling and tailored it perfectly. He has such confidence in me now he’d jump off a cliff if I asked him to.”
“You’d make a good teacher,” Sunset commented, inwardly noting that Chrysalis likely knew more about her than she’d realized. She doubted the fey had her mindreading active constantly, though, or she’d have some comment on the trains of thought that immediately crashed and set on fire in Sunset’s mind at the idea of it.
Ah well. What was, was - so she didn’t have as many secrets up her sleeve as she thought. Chrysalis hadn’t shunned her for it yet, and Sunset’s traitorous emotions poured a flood of relieved gratitude into her veins for that, given the potential awkwardness of some of her inner musings. “Tailored lessons are about a hundred times better than this highschool drek.” Could Celestia read minds? That thought brought only a flare of anger. Sunset tried to set it aside, it wasn’t Chrysalis she was mad at.
“Of course I would,” Chrysalis agreed dismissively with the obvious nature of Sunset’s insight. “Done well with you, haven’t I? With far more useful skills in this world as well. Getting to be little miss popular at that place, aren’t you?” She flashed a fanged smile; Sunset grinned bashfully in return.
“Got them eating out of my hand,” Sunset agreed, trying out the unfamiliar idiom. She snickered at the mental image, and soon the two inhuman girls were giggling together.
“So much easier to schedule once you nudge them into actually prioritizing the team,” Chrysalis mused. Sunset wasn’t sure at first if that one was magic or just manipulation. “Magic,” Chrysalis helpfully supplied.
Well, that answered that.
Given the role Chrysalis expected her to play in the events, Sunset had a close look at Crystal Prep Academy’s strategies for them. Very useful intelligence if she decided to snitch to her own school, which she would when it helped Chrysalis and not a moment sooner.
They were solid, effective strategies, often rather clever, and making good use of each individual’s strengths. She could see why Chrysalis’s team was impressed, Shining Armor of course included. The pair were perceived as something of a power couple at this point to Sunset’s understanding.
Anyone with Chrysalis would be.
“Fundraising is just the simplest thing once you get any alumnus with an ounce of school spirit actually in the room with you,” Chrysalis tells Sunset one evening. “Barely needs a nudge. Just open up the faucet a bit on their love and pride for their school, and the rest takes care of itself. Can see Principal Cinch’s eyes light up from the numbers I’m bringing them.” She adjusts herself to a more comfortable position, lounging against the makeshift furniture they’d assembled in the abandoned stairwell. “Snack’s a bonus.”
“Snack?” Sunset asked, thrown off by the apparent non-sequitor.
“Oh, yes. Love is delicious.”
Chrysalis looked at her, licked her lips, and Sunset gulped.
From what Chrysalis confided, Crystal Prep’s principal was quite on board with every bit of information on the competition that Chrysalis could whisper in her ear, and asked few questions about the source of it beyond probing how she might get more. The Cadenza alias was quite the favored student as a consequence, able to delicately ask for anything reasonable and a bit more. A success of networking all around.
Sunset’s role, aside from providing some of the aforementioned information, was a bit more disruptive. First, she turned her charm on the judges to lower their suspicion.
“I really appreciate what you’re doing today,” Sunset told the woman she’d brought storebought vegan gluten-free cookies to. (Thank …
… she didn’t want to swear by Celestia.
Principal Celestia had a sister here. Luna didn’t exist in Equestria.
Or did she … ?)
Sunset shook her head to clear the errant train of thought’s swerve. It had been supposed to get back on track somewhere where she’d figured out the lady’s dietary needs; bringing her cookies would have been a bit awkward otherwise, especially of the always-hazardous ‘home baked’ variety.
(Did Chrysalis have a home here?)
(She wasn’t sure.)
“I’ve made some great friends at Crystal Prep even without being part of the games. I’m glad you’re making sure everyone’s having a good time,” Sunset told her cheerfully, with a warm smile.
Not a lie, for some definitions of ‘friends’ that were generous on the counting.
And ‘glad’.
And ‘good’.
Ah well. The food made a good distraction, and herself an unlikely suspect for the sabotage.
Carefully timed ‘adjustments’ to the calibration of the archery bows was the safest intervention. They simply would not work as practiced for the Wondercolts; precious time wasted fuming and fixing their state.
The roller skates, she tightened the axle nuts to slow her school team’s roll by a noticeable amount.
She hesitated on the motorcycles. This … could go poorly. She wanted something that would interfere with their performance, but a catastrophic failure could injure someone … and the bike.
… well, people probably would be injured, bikes or not. Chrysalis would be able to save them before it killed them at least. Sunset made a silent promise to the bikes to fix the issue immediately after the race, and worked on tossing enough dust through to clog their filters.
Canterlot High noticed the sabotage.
Sunset made sure the Shadowcolts were blamed.
Perceived as gloating over their victories.
None of her own classmates much knew Shining Armor. It was not so difficult, once Chrysalis taught her how, to adjust this world’s ‘photographs’ to make the valorous look villainous.
The atmosphere between the race and the next event was tense and volatile, simmering with accusation and resentment between the two schools. Sunset and Chrysalis escaped, pretending anxiety and distress over the whole affair - and managed to secure a quiet room together to relax and bask in what they’d wrought.
“Cheers,” Chrysalis drawled, offering Sunset a juice box. Apple, smelled like. Sunset stabbed the little plastic straw into it and took a long draught. “Well done on your part of the plan. The students are at each others’ throats; every unfair loss, judge’s scrutiny, and budding friendship broken strengthens their despair and strengthens my flock, even as their resolve weakens. Soon we will strike.”
Felt like this was getting into supervillain territory, but Sunset nodded. In for a bit … “Kinda sucks seeing someone nice as Shining Armor getting chewed out for cheating he didn’t do, though, huh?” Sunset reflected rhetorically.
“All the better to drive him further into my arms,” Chrysalis answered. “A strong spirit like his may need … some work to become amenable to joining our flock. You are simply helping him get there more swiftly.” Chrysalis gently brushed Sunset’s cheek, taking a reassuring tone. “You shall be a great leader beside me, Sunset, guiding all of these lost and hypocritical humans into a truly powerful community. With our ambition, their resources, and my magic, nothing shall stand in our way.”
Sunset stared into Chrysalis’s verdant gaze, envisioning the future Chrysalis painted for her. A fey army, confident and organized rather than scrabbling for resources in the shadows, obedient to her command - it was a heady brew.
Beside her.
She … didn’t mind the thought of sharing the top position. It’d always been in the plans; she’d hardly intended a coup against Princess Celestia after all. (Back then, at least. Currently … she felt a bit more flexible.) And Chrysalis …
Now or never.
“Chrysalis, I…” Sunset took a breath. If Chrysalis was reading her thoughts, she wasn’t letting Sunset take that as a shortcut out of this, instead patiently waiting for Sunset to express herself. (It felt a little like being toyed with. But it was probably the right thing to do.) “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”
“I do,” Chrysalis answered, with a warm but fanged grin and without a shred of false modesty. Sunset giggled.
“Like that. That confidence. I love that,” Sunset told her, plowing forward with a smile. “And how commanding and clever and ambitious you are, leading your flock and - I appreciate everything you’ve taught me.”
“You have the seeds of greatness,” Chrysalis tells her softly. “Everything you see in me, I see in you.”
Sunset feels the blood rush to her cheeks and ears, swallows and forces the words out.
“I love you.”
Chrysalis listens, answers softly.
“I know.”
That rush of blood is roaring in Sunset’s ears and she tries to clear her head of giddy anger at the stupid reference, the non-answer, the confirmation that Chrysalis has seen her heart as she told Sunset from the start, it was idiotic to think otherwise -
Chrysalis wasn’t leaving it at that. She let the line hang for a moment, then continued to speak, still in that soft voice.
“I can taste it. Feed on what you so freely offer … to me. The saccharine sap I sup on from Shining Armor is true, powerful, sustaining - but it is for Cadenza. My flock respects me, but it is respect for their leader, as it must be.”
“With you - I am who I am. The heat of ambition, the zest of banter - it flavors your love. What is a good comparison? Perhaps the difference between dining on cake and savoring the best curry I have ever had.”
Sunset listened, anxiety temporarily displaced by a deep curiosity about Chrysalis’s sensory experiences.
“I do very much enjoy our time together,” Chrysalis tells her, “And I am drawn to who you are and who you might be. Love can distract from the pursuit of power, but we - as a team - are more powerful together. I want you as my partner when I rule. I -
I feel the same.”
They were so close, already.
Sunset leaned the rest of the short way in to seek a kiss.
And then there were no words, no anxiety. Nothing but Chrysalis, their connection, their contact, and the fire that burned with pleasure rather than pain between them.
All was right with the world, for all the time they had left.
There was one more event left in the Friendship Games. Chrysalis had plans, for how Sunset could sabotage the equipment for it to perfectly set up her flock to pick off its victims in the resulting disorientation.
What it was, what that was, how that would have gone, would prove entirely irrelevant to actual events.
Sunset had moved in to tamper with the equipment, but at the sound of some familiar voices quickly hid and listened, discerning the speakers before the conversation.
Principal Celestia. Vice-principal Luna …
Cadenza.
Ragged, desperate, urgent and …
… not Chrysalis.
Cadance.
Sunset had been … largely content with aggressively not caring what had become of this world’s Cadance. It was a curiosity, but she had a history with the alicorn that she wasn’t particularly eager to have the human remind her of, and - a grudge. How Chrysalis had stepped in using her face was Chrysalis’s business, just like Sunset stepping in wearing the absent Sunset’s face was Sunset’s business.
(If she were going to start poking around into mysteriously missing persons, she’d start with her own counterpart. Had been tempted when she’d realized there were parallels.
But with the way Principal Celestia had reacted to her…
She … was pretty sure the other girl didn’t want to be found any more than she did, if she was even still alive.)
Now, though, she was a captive audience. Listening against her will to Cadance’s harrowing tale of being locked in an unused warehouse by a conniving monster
(beloved. Beautiful. Better than Cadance.)
who seized Cadance’s life for herself
(undeserving provincial pegasus who doesn’t know what to do with greatness if she literally trips and falls into it)
and planned to attack all around her.
(The fools would be better off, stripped of their unearned privileges and empowered in collective magic, working together for a force that could seize the world with enough momentum.)
She had to warn Chrysalis.
(Chrysalis had kidnapped a young woman and kept her chained in isolation for as long as Sunset had known her, exploiting her resources and taunting her with her plans.)
She … sympathized with Cadance. That had to be hell to go through. And it was challenging to make her vindictive streak against the alicorn apply to the human, when they were different people. She’d probably even sympathize with the alicorn, in a similar situation.
Chrysalis had never told her about this. Probably worried it might be a dealbreaker …
… was it?
Sunset was trapped listening, for the moment, which gave her damnable conscience more time to review the situation than she might have liked.
Chrysalis had been a monster. Long-term plots sometimes required long-term sacrifices like that, to pull off. Even Princess Celestia had spies, dungeons, hard decisions made for the sake of the nation. And Chrysalis was Queen. Responsible to her people, not the humans.
Chrysalis had done it gleefully. Well, morale was important. If the crown weighs too heavy all the time it might snap your neck. Better to revel in the plans you’ve committed to than constantly second guess them. A spring in your step as you work towards your goal, optimism and hope and anger, rather than not even being able to lift the tools greatness - and any difficult accomplishment where the world seemed stacked against you - required.
Sunset let her brain form the rationalizations, then did her best to brutally trample them into the dirt and seek to know herself through clear, cruel truth.
Chrysalis was a monster.
Sunset loved her anyway.
She was willing to be a villain to be at Chrysalis’s side.
She had to warn Chrysalis.
“Change of plans, then. The humans are in disarray, demoralized and mistrustful of each other. My flock is stronger than ever, strengthened by your love freely given, Shining Armor’s taken, and the evening’s shadows and west wind.” Chrysalis calculated, pacing. “My power and magic will give me the edge over anything these mundane creatures can muster. I will confront them head-on.”
“You think that’s wise?” Sunset asked, concern for her fey lover mixing with a general worry over the casualties an open battle might inflict. “It’s a lot different from our original plan.”
“I have every confidence in our success,” Chrysalis tells Sunset, brushing her shoulder reassuringly. “I am more capable than I have ever been - no human can stand in my way. You, though, keep hidden. I can handle this, and there is no need to turn the humans against you while none suspect.”
“I will,” Sunset agreed, reluctantly. Her gut was sinking with the unraveling plan, and being asked not to stand beside her love was another stab in it, but she could not fault Chrysalis’s reasoning. Far better not to throw away the goodwill Sunset still had with the humans. She retreated to watch from the shadows as Chrysalis stepped forward, into the public eye.
A puzzled silence fell over both schools as Cadance did, as well.
“You are more resourceful than I expected, finally managing to slip my grasp.” The disguised Chrysalis complimented Cadance with a mocking smile. “But you are too late to stop me. To stop us.”
A murmur of confusion ran through the student bodies, the most audible trying to reconcile the existence of two team captains. Shadowy wings flapped in the background, still able to be confused for an ominous flock of ravens by the reasonable optimist.
(Leave aside, for a moment, that no ravens lived in the region; and they were already too large and rough for crows.)
“She’s a changeling,” Cadance told the gathered audience. “She takes the form of someone you love and gains power by feeding off your love for them.”
A burst of teal flame flared as Chrysalis cast off her disguise, and the students gasped at the ragged-winged fey before them.
“Right you are,” Chrysalis laughed, stepping forward menacingly. “And as their queen, it is up to me to bring my people power. Which you - my privileged preparatory peers and your gallant competitors - shall provide.”
“We won’t let you!” Cadence cried out desperately. “Shining Armor -”
“Shining Armor is mine.” Chrysalis’s eyes glowed cyan, and the student stepped beside her to square his shoulders. “Isn’t that right, my dear?”
“Of course, yes,” Shining Armor answered, his eyes staring off into some teal-tinged realm only he could see.
“And soon all of you will be.” Chrysalis’s wings flared as the rest of her flock descended; ragged leather wings revealing clawed, emaciated forms, fluidly shifting into those of the students they each faced off with.
“You have erred by revealing yourself, fey,” Principal Celestia snarled, a fire in her voice Sunset had only before heard from her counterpart. “We will protect our students from you, and cast you out! Wondercolts, heed my orders!”
“We have fought your kind before!” Luna shouts, moving across the field. “Cinch, Shadowbolts, to me! Gather iron and rowan! Set barricades westward!”
Sunset struggled to follow all that was going on in the battle, but she was quickly reevaluating her initial impression of the two school administrators as the boring mundane counterparts of the Equestrian princess. (Princesses? Was there a Princess Luna, or a Duchess Luna perhaps? She wasn’t certain how the division of authority translated, and the absence of the knowledge in her prior life still bothered her.)
Principal Celestia gave orders like a military general, coordinating the students with calm and strategic prowess almost entirely unlike what Sunset would expect from your average school principle. And indeed Cinch seemed to be in some denial of events, her own students rallied by Vice-Principal Luna to secure and supply that which weakened the fey to those directly struggling against the changeling attempts to subdue and secure them.
Sunset saw the faint teal glow in Cinch’s eyes, and understood.
To do nothing but wait was torture. Fighting was suicide. Sunset snuck behind the battle lines and looked for secretive opportunities; ensuring gathered iron tools went mysteriously missing, nudging barricades askew and scuffing wards of herbs. Struggling fey she helped smuggle to shelter, whispering to them her reports on the battle to pass to Chrysalis while tending their wounds.
They might yet have won the day, until the true Cadance reached Shining Armor.
True love’s kiss has a power, in stories. In … fairy tales. And Sunset had to admit, in most of those it did not make that much sense.
Today, though, she understood all too well.
Her conflicted, sidelined love alone could not compare to the strength of Shining Armor’s devotion to Cadance, stolen for the glory and power of the flock and their Queen.
And when that was suddenly absent …
The athletic, valiant student and his long-suffering lover thrown rowan branches by Luna, going on the attack as the flock desperately drained Sunset for a semblance of sustenance …
Sunset staggered.
And fell.
“I have been where you are,” Sunset hears Vice-Principal Luna’s voice at a distance as she groggily comes to, pleading with someone other than her.
With … Chrysalis.
“It need not be this way. You can change. Choose friendship with the humans you were,” Luna pleaded, only to have her outreaching hand struck aside.
“If they had ever once truly chosen friendship with me, perhaps we would not be here,” Chrysalis hissed, wounded wings buzzing in resonance. “But no. Abused, abandoned, rejected, left for dead. You only start to pretend to care when I hold such power that I must be placated, and so it always is with your kind.”
“Those who truly understand and care for me - they are not human. Not anymore. Not at heart.”
Sunset’s unicorn heart twists, as Chrysalis pulls at her surge of love for a surge of strength to flee the scene.
“You have stolen my future, and I shall have my revenge,” Chrysalis spits as her magic flares. Celestia and Luna, Cadance and Shining Armor ready themselves - and Sunset decides now is a good time to pull the fire alarm.
The ensuing screeching gives the fey enough time to scramble to escape, leaving behind a torn battlefield of dazed and exhausted students.
“My flock is injured and scattered. And - we’ve been revealed.” Chrysalis tells Sunset, having finally dared to venture into one of their preferred haunts after a careful screen for traps. “It is best if we lie low for a good while, to recuperate and regroup. A loss draws the wrong sort of attention from rival factions, and -”
“- you won’t see me for a while. I don’t want to put you at risk like that, for no useful reason.” Chrysalis admits, and Sunset swallows.
“I’ll miss you. A lot,” Sunset admits, squeezing her injured lover with all the affectionate force she dare apply and not trying to stop her tears, even if they were dripping onto Chrysalis’s shoulder. No place, no time for feeling awkward about the display. The more she could feel her emotions, the more strength they would give Chrysalis.
“I know,” Chrysalis echoes herself. Sunset considered what she could do, and felt determination stir. She could do something, and she would do something.
“Chrysalis - I promise you,” Sunset started, and Chrysalis looked to her curiously. “I will find a path to power and influence. In your world, and in my world. We will overcome our enemies and we will be together again.” Sunset pledged, tightly gripping Chrysalis’s hands.
“Thank you,” Chrysalis tells her softly. “I believe in you.
Since we have met, I have come to care for you in a way I did not know if I was capable of. You have a rare and fierce spirit, loyal and determined in love, unfailingly ambitious and optimistic in aspiration. Even on the heels of failure, already you plan for success.
You will be great, Sunset Shimmer.”
“I will,” Sunset promised, and they held each other until all the time they had to do so was truly gone.
She had some books and scrolls, from home.
Chrysalis had taught her some simple magic, even if she hadn’t the horn or fey wings to use it.
Occasionally she’d by chance run into a changeling who could help her out.
She knew where the mirror was, even if it were closed.
A few things could be done with that.
A kind new freshman met a girl with a broken heart, and reached out.
He was popular, supportive, useful. So she used him.
Even his name reminded her of Shining Armor.
Another alicorn.
Well, two more, technically, but Princess Luna didn’t count in the same way. She’d always been around, just a secret, and Sunset had suspected her existence ever since meeting her human counterpart.
Twilight Sparkle … was her. Who she should have been. Same name, basically. Same talent for magic. Student of Celestia. Unicorn who ascended to Alicorn.
She briefly entertained the wild idea that Twilight Sparkle actually was her, the her from this world having slipped through the mirror some moon, but the scant evidence she had seemed against it.
She wasn’t sure if that would have made her feel better or worse about the results, though to be fair, it was easier to improve on “incandescent rage” than to dig for further superlatives.
Her goal kept her focused, though.
Twilight Sparkle had not redeemed Luna and ascended purely through her own power. The - princess, Sunset felt like spitting the word, but she couldn’t bring herself to scorn someone so directly mirroring her own ambition as she did the provincial pink pegasus - wielded a potent set of magical artifacts, that let her draw on the magic of her flock (her friends, the article said, and Sunset mentally translated) to cast incredibly powerful spells.
Sunset didn’t think she’d need the whole set, not here. Magic was practically nonexistent outside the fey, and even they faced constraints alien to Equestria.
The most powerful one, though - the reflection of their shared talent, the symbol of leadership - the Element of Magic -
