> Cooling Embers
>  by Incandesca
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: How the Sun Rises
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Graduation.

Like stones caught in a river, the word tumbled in Sunset's mind. Graduation. Graduation. She was at graduation.

It was difficult to believe. Could she be so certain it was the truth?

Perhaps she was still trapped in her demonic form, and everything that followed had been a fantasy to placate her.

Or she met her fate at the Fall Formal, and this was all the fevered imaginings of a dying girl, soon to reach an abrupt and ignominious end.

Waiting in the hall to receive her cap and gown, Sunset Shimmer wished she was at CHS proper instead of this strange, unknown auditorium. The unfamiliar surroundings did her nerves no favors.

"Hey, Trixie?"

"Mmmyeeees, Shimmer?"

"Can you pinch me?"

"Gladly!"

The wannabe girl magician - one of the unlikelier friends Sunset made at CHS - spun on her heel...

...and pinched her arm with enough force to leave a bruise.

"Yow!"

Sunset jerked her arm away, cradling it to her chest. "Shining Sun above, Trix. Did you have to do it that hard?"

"Listen, Shimmer. The Great and Powerful Trixie might be lacking for wits, but I am not. I can tell when you're thinking stupid things. Were you thinking stupid things, Sunset?"

"Nnnooo?"

"Knew it!" Trixie's face fell from smug to sympathetic. "Speaking as your friend, I understand your worries. Trixie admits she isn't the brightest tool in the breadbox and is deathly afraid of college. Trixie can't survive college, Shimmer. She. Cannot. Survive!"

With each final word, she yanked on Sunset's arm for punctuation.

Sunset let her. One of the first things to go becoming friends with Trixie was the concept of boundaries.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Trixie."

The voice, high and bookish, came from her right. Above the top of a gadget she didn't recall, Twilight peered upwards.

Sunset always thought those glasses were cute. Some day, she'd convince Twilight's Equestrian counterpart to wear them, too.

"Ha, ha. Easy for you to say, little Miss Sparkle. You're the smartest girl in this school!"

"T-technically." Twilight flushed, re-averting her gaze. "After rigorous examination, I've tested down to the point one percentile for the country."

Trixie scoffed. "My point exactly. Trixie isn't in the point one percentile for anything!" She looked away, fluffing her straight silver hair. "Except perhaps for most beautiful and perfect."

Twilight adjusted her glasses. "Well, whether that's true or not, I think you underestimate your intelligence. You might struggle academically, but speaking as someone who is very intelligent in that area and not so much in others, emotional, social, and creative intelligence are highly valued skills. Maybe you could be a therapist?"

That caught Trixie off guard. Stunned silent, it seemed for once someone managed to spur those great and powerful gears to grinding.

"You... may have a point." She smiled. "Thank you, Twilight."

"And Sunset?"

Sunset looked over. "Hm?"

The smallest of smiles played at Twilight's lips. She placed the device in her pocket, and squeezed her 

"You'll be fine. You always are."

Sunset pretended to smile. She felt a pang in her heart.

Her past experience paid off. Twilight withdrew, believing she helped.

'Let her believe,' Sunset thought. No point worrying anyone any more than she had to.

She still hated it. Telling a lie.

Even a white one. Especially to a friend.

But they'd never understand. Could never even begin to.

This wasn't about what she'd do post-graduation. That was simple. She was smart, if not to the same genius extent as Twilight. She'd fly through university with the same ease at which she'd breezed through high school.

"Thanks, Twi," she said. The lie came so easy.

"Students of Canterlot High!"

The hall's attention snapped to the left. While Principal Celestia did not wield the same power and respect as her Equestrian counterpart, hers commanded presence when she so chose.

To her right stood Vice Principal Luna. Between them, they held gravid stacks of caps and gowns.

"It's good to see I can still call your attention!" Celestia winked. "These are your official ceremonial clothes. Each is marked with your name on the back, so if you receive one that is incorrect please alert either myself or Luna."

Luna straightened. "Lastly, if you have any trouble putting them on, seek assistance from the person beside you or a nearby teacher."

The two began down the line. Starting towards the head, Sunset and the rest had plenty of time to continue their conversation.

They did not.

Passing of the gowns meant only one thing.

The ceremony was close.

Closer than she'd prefer. Sunset imagined her friends shared that same faint unease. The sort that nestled in her gut, telling her to be afraid, despite not knowing what to actually be afraid of.

Maybe it was just her.

After a few minutes, they received the garments. Sunset and Twilight had no issues putting on theirs. Trixie... Trixie needed some help.

"Oh, and one more thing!" said Luna. "Keep your tassels to the right of your cap, and the point of it facing forwards."

Several students made the requisite adjustments. Trixie included.

"At the ceremony, you will be told when to move your tassels. That is all!"

Looking to her friends beside, Trixie grinned, pinched and lifted the sides of her gown. "Trixie thinks this must look lovely on her, wouldn't you agree?"

Sunset nodded. The gown's fine white silks complimented the beaten silver of Trixie's hair rather well. Granted, Sunset struggled to picture anyone that white wouldn't look good on.

Now, they waited.

The ceremony couldn't come soon enough, nor could Sunset want it any further away. Minutes shrank to seconds, and seconds stretched to minutes as though to mock the very concept of time.

When at last Celestia announced the ceremony would begin shortly, it was as though a great weight lifted from Sunset's back. She breathed a sigh of relief, and at the same time dug her nails into her palms hard enough it hurt.

The line shuffled forward, single file. To the sound of graduation music, they entered a vast auditorium, and each found their place on the stage. Side by side, one row would form, and when no more could squeeze in another formed behind them.

Sunset took her place two rows back, between Trixie and Twilight. Mixed into the line-up ahead was Rarity, Pinkie, and Wallflower. She had been at the line's front, and so she would be the first called to speak.

Ironic, Sunset thought. She imagined the girl must have slipped in early before anyone noticed.

As she took in the chamber, Sunset stared forwards, rather than upwards. While the stage was sizeable enough to fit several dozens, the seats above stretched on forever. More than large enough to make her feel small.

It had to be, to fit everyone's friends and family.

Outside school, Sunset had no friends. Not on Earth, at least.

And family? The one group of people that should have been there, bearing witness to this pivotal moment in her young life?

Sunset stiffened. She didn't want to think about it.

And so she stared forwards, rather than upwards.

Heels clicked on stage, and Celestia strode to the front alongside her sister. Beaming, she took her spot behind the standing microphone.

"Good afternoon everyone! It's so wonderful to see so many faces here today - parents, siblings, friends and family - here to witness your loved one's journey. It's incredible to think my sister and I, once upon a time, stood here in the same place as these students. Even more incredible, and fortunately blessed, to preside over this occasion for the eleventh year in a row. We've seen many young learners of all kinds, hailing from diverse backgrounds walk through the halls of Canterlot High, but I think this crop of students behind me may just be the most interesting I've ever had the honor to see."

Sunset tuned out. The sooner this was finished, the better.

Once it was done she could hop on her motorcycle, go home, and binge on way, way too much takeout.

That was an upside to independence. No guardians meant no one told her what she should and should not do, though it wasn't as if that ever accomplished anything in the past. Still, she appreciated the lack of resistance.

Following Celestia's spiel came Lunas. Much the same, it praised the graduating body and the history of CHS, though more cool and curt than Celestia had been. Yet Sunset noticed her slipping in the odd joke here and there, dry wit and snark-laden humor getting a positive reception from the crowd.

Here and there, she made veiled references to the magical happenings around the school. It was nothing explicit - only those who knew would twig onto the fact. Neither sister could afford such secrets running free.

Next, the students took their turns.

Luna revealed a paper. "Wallflower Blush," she read. "Head of the Gardening Club, self-described aspiring botanist, and voted Best Gardener two years running. Please take the stage."

The audience clapped. Luna moved aside, and swept an arm to usher the girl forth.

She stepped up to the mic, trembling, and suddenly Sunset found her fears a little less founded. Wallflower clutched a sheet in her pale green hand and mumbled something inaudible into the mic. Luna leaned in, whispered something in her ear, and Wallflower spoke again.

"H... hello. My name is Wallflower Blush, and I-" She swallowed. Glancing back she scanned the crowd, before hers and Sunset's gaze met. In her copper eyes, Sunset saw a pleading.

She smiled, giving a thumbs up.

Wallflower returned the smile, turning back towards the audience. With her chest puffed out and chin tipped high, she resumed.

"At first, when I came to Canterlot High, I was afraid. I thought I was too boring for anyone to notice or care about me. Someone special proved me wrong. Now I have a scholarship to Canterlot University, and more friends than I know what to do with." She paused. "One of those friends is a lot more special than the others, though, and she knows who she is. Thank you."

The audience erupted in cheers. Wallflower Blushed, stepping back, and Sunset couldn't have been more proud.

Most of the following students Sunset only knew on a basic level, but there were a few standouts.

Vinyl and Octavia for one. The duo had apparently been allowed to stand together, and Sunset understood why when Octavia read Vinyl's speech for her. Cherry Crash felt less highschool graduate and more raving rockstar. Ditzy meanwhile delivered a speech that brought many in the audience to tears.

Sunset could have predicted those of her friends. There was Rarity - proper, refined, and delivered with such eloquence you'd think she was reading Shakespeare. Pinkie, naturally, unfurled a list of everyone she knew, was friends with, or who had so much as made eye contact. About twenty names deep, Luna had to politely guide her back to the group.

Anyone with half a brain could imagine how Trixie's went.

All too soon, Sunset's time arrived.

Twilight reached out for a reassuring squeeze. Sunset pulled away before she got the chance.

Her stride portrayed more confidence than she felt. She wasn't worried about delivering the speech; she had practiced, memorized, and ingrained the words in her head for weeks. No, that wasn't the issue at all.

She had to look up.

"Hey," she began. Crisp. Smooth, straight to the point. "The name's Sunset Shimmer, though I doubt I need to tell anyone that. I've made quite the reputation for myself since I came to CHS."

Muted, short-lived laughter rippled through the crowd. More behind than around.

"That reputation didn't start out so great though." She paused, swallowed. The lines came easy. The desire to speak them, not so much. "I'll say it plain. I was kind of a jerk."

"That's putting it lightly."

Sunset didn't know who or where the comment came from. It was something quiet, something whispered just loud enough for her to hear - or so she thought. Rage flared in her eyes, before she snuffed it out quick as it came.

They weren't wrong.

She scanned the auditorium regardless. Curiosity gnawed at her to discover who it was. The search proved fruitless. There were simply too many people, too many suspects. Too many people she'd screwed over, or friends and family of those she had.

But as she scanned the crowd, a color stood out. A very familiar color.

Her gaze jerked back for a second look, eyes going wide.

Twilight.

It was Twilight, from Equestria. She was here. With Celestia too, although she'd put on makeup and changed her hair to better obscure her identity. But to Sunset, it was absolutely, unmistakeably her.

Her missing confidence returned. In fact, she struggled not to cry.

Beaming, she puffed out her chest and spoke from the heart. Screw the speech.

"I did horrible things and hurt a lot of people - so many I can't even remember them all. Those dark days will shame me til the day I die. But someone very special gave me a second chance, a second chance I'm still not sure I even deserved. And then other people too, people who are now my best friends in the world. Twilight Sparkle. Applejack. Rarity. Fluttershy. Pinkie Pie. Rainbow Dash. Trixie Lulamoon. Wallflower Blush. Every last one of you means more to me than I can say. Thank you. Thank you so much for being my friends. Thank you so much for your forgiveness. I can't imagine where I'd be without you, without this school, and I hope we'll stick together every step of the way into the future, whatever form it takes."

She bowed, stepping back in line.

Not everyone clapped, but most did.

It was more than she could have asked for.





"Can you guys freakin' believe it? We're finally done with high school!"

Pinkie's rapturous voice rang out to every corner of the parking lot. Some heads turned, those not acquainted with the girl's antics. Everyone else scarcely paid any mind.

Sunset and her friends gathered round. Everyone was bright eyes and cheery smiles.

Rainbow agreed. "F- I mean, heck yeah! I can't wait for the sick parties."

Sunset rolled her eyes. "You do know college isn't just about parties and drinking, right?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Pinkie said, high-fiving Dash.

Twilight fiddled with her tassel. "She is correct, you know. University is arguably more important for your career prospects than high school."

Rainbow scoffed. "Please, guys. I'm not an idiot."

Twilight and Sunset exchanged glances. Pinkie arched an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay. Sheesh. Brutal. I'm not that much of an idiot, though. I'll be fine. I did graduate, after all, right?"

"I don't mean to rain on your parade, darling, but..." Rarity breathed through her teeth.

"Ya'll did only pass with a C."

"Hey, c'mon, C is average"

"Uh-huh. Just about tha lowest average ya'll coulda gotten."

"Yikes. Okay. Really busting my balls over here."

Rainbow slumped, defeated. Sunset walked over and clapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, don't get too down. It's just some tough love. Besides, I don't even think it's your smarts or lack thereof that's the problem."

"Just your discipline," finished Rarity.

"And yer work ethic. Er, lack thereof."

"And your attention span," Fluttershy mumbled. 

"Y-yeah, well." Rainbow folded her arms, puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe things will be different this time around! I did pass with an A-plus in PE! I'd rather be an athlete than some dumb egghead anyway." She stuck out her tongue in Twilight's direction.

"Regardless," said Sunset. "We're all friends here. If anyone is going through a rough spot, no matter how bad it is, we help each other out. That's how we've gotten this far, and it's how we'll keep going. It's what friends do."

"Speaking of which, Sunny dear. What a marvelous speech you delivered back there. I'm not too prideful to say I might have shed a tear or two."

Everyone murmured agreement, even Trixie. Sunset couldn't stop the flames rising to her cheeks.

"Oh, and, uhm." Wallflower plucked her sweater sleeves. The moment they left the building, she'd swapped out of her gown. "Thank you, for giving me courage to deliver mine."

Sunset shrugged. "Don't mention it. It's nothing."

Fluttershy spoke up. "It's not nothing, Sunset. A little can go a long way, and you've been the glue that's kept us together this whole time. You shouldn't downplay that."

Sunset flushed darker.

At any other time, she'd bask in this sort of attention. Even after the change she'd gone through, Sunset loved nothing more than a good old-fashioned ego stroke.

Today, it didn't sit so well.

"Truly, Sunset is an inspiring light to us all," Trixie began.

Please, Trixie. Not you, too.

"But I believe you have forgotten the brightest star in the show. The peak of performance. The pinnacle of perfection! None other than the Grrreat and Powerful Trixie herself!"

As if on cue, a burst of purple smoke, flecked with blue and gold glitter, exploded into being. When the cloud faded, Trixie was out of her gown, having substituted the garment for her magician's outfit - cape and hat included. Completing the smarmy picture were her other friends Fuschia Blush and Lavender Lace, holding their pose-striking leader on their shoulders.

The collective groan and eye-roll could be heard the next town over.

Sunset didn't join them.

Not when she and Trixie made eye contact.

Not when she saw her wink.

"Ah think we've gotten a mite bit off track here."

Pinkie nodded, bouncing on her heels. How her cap didn't fall off with all those jumping candyfloss curls, Sunset didn't know. She was half convinced the girl's hair had some sort of magical, or at least magnetic properties.

"Thank you, Applejack!! There was actually something really super duper ultra mega important I wanted to announce!"

A party. 

Sunset knew everyone else shared the thought. For as chaotic a force as Pinkie Pie could be, she was rather predictable at times. No one in their right mind could thumb their nose at a Pinkie Pie party, though.

"Yupsies!"

How exactly she chose to announce her parties?

That was an entirely different story.

Leaping off her feet, Pinkie twirled in the air. She spun a short deck of cards in hand, and threw them one after the other.

"You get an invitation! And you get an invitation! And you get an invitation! Everyone gets an invitation!"

Most cards wound up smacking the girls in their face. Sunset, Rainbow, and Rarity all plucked theirs from the air with relative ease. Her thanks to her black belt, the others from athletics and fencing respectively.

Trixie, for her part, fell ass backwards.

Her friends shot to her side, helping her back to her feet.

So much for showing off.

"The party is tomorrow night, my place! We're gonna do," Pinkie's voice lowered to a dangerous whisper. "Underage drinkiiiiiiing."

She, along with Sunset, Rainbow, and AJ, all shared high-fives.

"Do we, uhm, have to drink?" asked Fluttershy.

Twilight stood beside her. "Yes, I would like to know as well. Alcohol can negatively affect the development of young brains such as ours if ingested in sufficient-"

Pinkie slapped a hand over her mouth. "Nope! But anyone who wants to can bring whatever they want! I've got totally free reign of the house for the whooooole weekend!"





Sunset thought she must look odd - and insane - to any passers-by. 

Riding on her motorcycle, she wore nothing but a backpack, her black tank, hot pink pajama pants, and sneakers. She hadn't even bothered with a helmet, so her wild mane of hair whipped freely behind her like some trailing flame.

Anyone who knew her habits called it crazy, Rainbow Dash included.

It wasn't that Sunset lacked the proper wits. Of her friends, she was the smartest, only outshone by Twilight. And that girl was practically a prodigy.

Blegh, prodigy.

She hated the word; it tasted foul on her tongue. Prodigies didn't have to work for their talents. Prodigies didn't have to stay up night after night grinding themselves to the bone just for the chance at success.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't hold at least some resentment towards Twilight Sparkle - either of them. Despite it, she knew the feeling was irrational. Earth and Equestrian Twilights both worked hard to get to where they were. 

Rationality, however, had never been her strongest virtue.

Perhaps she truly was a bit mad, then. But for her, the feeling of wind in her hair, against her face, her skin? 

That was freedom. And freedom? That was sublime.

Besides, the distance between her place and Pinkie's wasn't far. She shouldn't have to face any trouble from a twenty or so minute drive through mostly suburbia. If she did somehow crash, she probably deserved it, and she'd have plenty time to regret her actions in the afterlife.

Several sprawling stretches of cookie-cutter, copy-paste homes and lawns later, she reached her destination. Pulling into the driveway, she hopped off and laid her motorcycle against the garage wall.

Instinct told her not to leave it out in the open, though she didn't have much of a choice. If someone did dare touch her baby, there'd be Tartarus to pay.

Coming up to the front, Sunset barely raised her fist to knock when the door flung open. Yanked inside with a yelp of surprise, she worried for a moment the weight on her back might send her toppling.

"Wooooah there, Sunny! Don't fall down on me already. Nobody's started drinking yet!"

Firm hands steadied her on her feet. Beaming wide as a Cheshire, Pinkiee bounced on her heels, dressed in an oversized tee and tight yellow shorts. Giggling, she helped shrug the pack off Sunset's shoulders, and placed it on a nearby dining room chair.

"Heh, thanks. Maybe we should get to fixing-"

Before she got the words out, Pinkie wrapped her up in one of her trademark bear hugs. Instantly, all the air fled her lungs in a deathly wheeze.

"That," she coughed, once Pinkie relented.

"Fix what?"

Sunset walked over and unzipped the pack. Pulling from it, she produced two bottles, one tequila, the other spiced rum. "Getting started on drinking, duh." She grinned, waggling the bottles for emphasis.

"Oh, heehee! Silly, we can't start drinking 'til everyone's here!"

Not in the parties she went to.

Pinkie took the bottles, setting them down upon a small wooden table by the wall. There were more drinks resting there, juices and sodas too for making cocktails.

From the selection, Sunset guessed who was already present. Cider, whiskey, and beer must have been Applejack. Vodka she thought might have been Rarity, but she was the type to arrive fashionably late, probably with wine and champagne in tow. That left either Rainbow Dash or Pinkie.

Assuming they drank at all, Sunset could absolutely see Pinkie's folks hitting the vodka. They seemed the type.

Last sat a pack of water bottles. She presumed Fluttershy. Though she hadn't likely known enough about alcohol to intend it, they would see good use should anyone get too hammered.

Glancing towards the living room, Sunset pat herself on the back.

In front of a flatscreen, cross-legged with controllers in hand, Rainbow and AJ were busy playing an all-too-familiar fighting game. Rainbow had brought a blue hoodie and nylon shorts, Applejack a plaid button-up and frayed jeans.

Said jeans had been a gift from Rarity. The first time she saw them, she remembered AJ saying 'Now wha'd ya'll go and do that for, rippin' up a perfectly nice pair of work pants?"

Sunset smiled, glad to see her wearing them. Not wholly because Sunset liked wearing ripped-up jeans herself.

Judging by the stern, angry looks on their faces and the rattling clack-a-clack of controllers, they were engaged in their usual bouts of heated competition.

Fluttershy sat knees to chest on a nearby beanbag, watching the two compete. A large cream blouse hung from her lithe frame, and baggy, pastel green pajama pants covered her legs, dotted with pink butterflies. Upon noticing Sunset's presence, she smiled and waved, wordlessly.

She waved back.

"So, Pinkie, what's the plan for tonight?"

"Weell, obviously we're still waiting for a few people, and those two are occupied." She pointed to Applejack and Rainbow.

"Huh, wha?" Dash turned her head. "Oh, hey."

She returned to playing, but the momentary distraction gave Applejack the window she needed. A furious flurry of punches and uppercuts sounded from the television, and Rainbow threw her hands in the air. "Aw man! Whatever, that character is totally OP. Doesn't even count." She huffed, crossing her arms.

Applejack chortled. "Ain't mah fault you got distracted. Anywho, heya Sunset. Ya'll bring anyone else with ya?"

"Nope, just me. And some booze. Got a few snacks too if anyone's interested."

AJ and Rainbow both stood, cracking their shoulders.

"I could go for some chips myself."

"An' one 'a those oatmeal cream pies, if'n ya got any."

"Specific. But you're in luck, because I actually do!"

Sunset returned to the bag and ruffled around, extracting a stomach-rumbling procession of crinkly bags and paper boxes. From left to right she spread them out - Cheetohs (the puffy kind), Cool Ranch Doritos, Sour Cream & Cheddar Ruffles, Southern Heat BBQ Lay's, oatmeal creme cookies, swiss rolls, and a package of Extra Stuf Oreos.

And, of course, oatmeal cream pies.

"Woah nelly. How'dja fit all that in that little pack there?"

"Very carefully. Anyway, take your pick!"

Quick as a whip, Rainbow zoomed forward and ripped open the Doritos. 

Partway through shoving a handful into her maw, AJ shot her a look. With a lop-sided grin and avoiding her gaze, she reached over and deposited the chips onto a paper plate.

Pinkie giggled, turning to Sunset. "We have card games to play while we wait for everyone!"

Rainbow spoke with her mouth full, both cheeks bulging outwards. "Incluing Carsh Againsh Humaity."

"Yes! Also, movies, and tons of games! I know it's not anything super crazy and special, but I thought something like this deserved a more personal party. Speaking of which, Trixie-"

Sunset nodded. "Yeah, I saw."

The day before the party, Trixie sent a text that said she couldn't come, already had something planned between her and her friends. Sunset didn't blame her. She knew Fuschia and Lavender far longer than she'd known the others.

"Not coming, it's cool. What about Wally, though? I never saw her send confirmation."

"I've been here a while."

Sunset jumped out her skin. Turning around, Wallflower greeted her, standing in the hallway, wearing her usual jeans and sweater.

"Where were you?"

Wallflower blushed. "In the bathroom."

"Oh."

Sunset shuffled. Wallflower fiddled with her pockets.

A dainty, musical pattern knocked on the door. Eager for salvation, Sunset flung it wide open.

"Good evening, darlings!"

Rarity, ever the dramatic, strode in wearing what must have been the pinkest, fluffiest robe Sunset had ever laid her eyes upon. She'd applied her makeup to perfection, coiffed hair pinned into a stylish bun. On one shoulder she carried a fashionable lavender-colored handbag, from which emanated the sound of clinks and sloshing.

"My upmost apologies for the late arrival. Regardless of the occasion, a lady must always strive to look her best. Now where should I- oh!" Exclaiming, she walked to the table supporting the various drinks. As Sunset had figured, Rarity drew from her purse two bottles of wine - white and red, both vintage - and sparkling champagne. "Quite the collection we have here, and so many juices! Oh I can make you all just the most delicious of cocktails!"

Fluttershy raised a hand. "Uhm, I have a question. How did you all get so much alcohol when you're, uhm, underage? And will we get in trouble?"

"Stole it," Rainbow answered. "Nah, just kidding. I bribed the cashier."

"Fake ID. Don't worry though, I'm legal in Equestria." Sunset winked. "And as long as nobody blabs, we won't get in trouble."

"Ah took it from the farmhouse. We got plenty 'a cider stores this time 'a year, and Ma and Pa always used to keep the liquor cabinets stocked. Granny ain't much of a drinker herself, so she ain't gonna notice."

"I, similarly, must admit I've engaged in a pinch of rugged banditry myself."

Silence reigned.

"Whaaat? Don't give me that look, I did bring the alcohol did I not?" Rarity harumphed. "Really, you should count yourselves lucky I brought anything at all! Elicit activities like this are so below a woman of my pedigree."

Sunset grinned. "Whatever you say, Rara."

"So we're just waitin' fer Twilight now ah suppose. Wonder where that gal went off to."

Rarity nodded. "Yes, it is rather odd she has not joined us yet. Usually I'm the one who's fashionably late, and she the one pointedly on time."

"Twenty dollars says she's working on some sorta egghead thing."

"I'll take that bet!" Pinkie cheered. Her and Rainbow shook on it.

For close to an hour, the girls passed the time with games, chatting, and snacking. 

AJ and Dash soon returned to their competition, while Sunset played Poker with Pinkie and Rarity; 

Pinkie had suggested Strip Poker, but Rarity firmly opposed the idea. Fluttershy and Wallflower, meanwhile, talked about something Sunset didn't fully hear. The only words she consistently picked out from their conversation were 'flowers' and 'bees'.

Go figure.

They heard the knock at nine.

Eager to meet their missing comrade, Pinkie sprang to her feet with terrifying speed.

Twilight's glasses lay part askew on her nose. The scrunchie for her ponytail was loose, and her hair stuck out frazzled and split. Dark rings sagged beneath bloodshot eyes, and she wore a ripped, stained lab coat over her pajamas.

She had the biggest smile Sunset had ever seen.

"Hi girls! Sorry, I'm so late. I was..." She tapped her fingers together, head turned aside. "Working on something."

Sunset cocked a brow. "That being?"

"Remember the drone I made a couple years ago? Well, I've been... developing on that model in secret, and I managed to create hover technology. O-only on the low scale end of things. Also, generative intelligence. It started out as something to just assist me in my research, but I got a bit out of hand. Terabyte? Please come and introduce yourself."

A small, featureless steel orb hovered into the room. Beneath it shone magenta light, pulsing like a heartbeat.

"Greetings. My name is Terabyte. I am a generative predictive text algorithm developed by the young woman Twilight Sparkle. It is nice to meet her friends."

Smiling, Twilight offered it a pat. It 'nuzzled' into her hand with a mechanical whir.

Rainbow eyed the shiny object. "So it's some kind of AI? Twilight, you have watched Terminator, right? Are you trying to get us nuked by Skynet?"

Twilight rolled her eyes. "That's just a movie. A good movie, admittedly, at least the first two. And for the record, this isn't Artificial Intelligence, it's Generative. It bases its responses on the information it's been fed, and comes up with the best approximation of how to respond. It won't be 'coming alive' any time soon."

Rainbow appeared no less unsure, but shrugged. "Whatever you say. But I get to say I told you so if it starts shooting lasers and asking for Brawn Copper'."

"That's not going to happen. Anyway, I just thought it would be fun to bring with me. It can interact almost like a person." She paused. "Almost. It doesn't always hit the mark."

"Can it share a drink?" Sunset asked.

"Uhm. Nnno."

"Damn. I've always wanted to share a beer with a robot."

"Have you?"

"No, not really, but don't tell me it wouldn't be cool."

Twilight shrugged.

"Nah, Sunny's totally got the right on this one!" Pinkie beamed, jabbing the disc with her elbow. "Let me know when you have drinking capabilities, hot stuff. Rrrreow!"

"Affirmative."

"That's what I'm talkin' about! And since we're all here, this party can really get started. Terabyte? Pop open the boooooze!"

Zipping to the drinks table, a multitude of three-pronged metal arms unfolded from the sphere, making quick work of the various bottles. "The taps shall flow."

After getting over the weirdness of Twilight's floating servitor, everyone put in requests. Apparently it could make cocktails, much to the disappointment of Rarity, but shit if it didn't make them fast. Fluttershy and Wallflower abstained, to Sunset's unsurprise. Rainbow needed some convincing before she trusted it to make hers.

Before long, they nursed their beverages in front of the TV.

Through discussion with Terabyte - or as they'd begun to call it, Tera - it suggested they watch the Terminator films - including those after Judgement Day. The girls provided plenty of commentary, tongues wagging thanks to a healthy dose of alcohol.

Sunset enjoyed the little disc's company. For however much lines of code could be, its personality amused her.

It particularly enjoyed pushing Rainbow's buttons. Whenever an opportunity rose in the movies for comments that implied higher motives, or simply to make fun of her, it took them.

The effect of Rainbow's shots made its job that much easier.

On screen, the t1000 emerged from the floor.

"How, hic. How'm I sposeda know you can't do some freaky shit like that? Or, or, or! What if you're poisoning my drink! Yeaaaahhh, I know what you're up to. Whaddya, think about that! Stupid ass dumb ass fuckin' ass robutt..."

It buzzed. "I suppose there is no way for you to know, is there?"

Rainbow Dash glared, muttering.

Sunset sat on the carpet floor with her legs splayed out, back slouched against the sofa's front. "So Twi. Between the first and second, which is your favorite?"

"The first, easily. It's more of a proper thriller instead of an action flick. A very good action flick, mind you, but an action flick nevertheless." She tipped back a sip of rum and Coke. It was a beginner's drink, but Twilight had admitted she'd never tried alcohol before.

"I-I'm preferring the second one, personally," Fluttershy mumbled. "T-the first one is kind of, uhm, scary."

"Exactly!" Pinkie agreed. "But the second one also has that nuclear holocaust scene. That was pretty scary too!"

"Y-yes, well. I didn't really like that either. I prefer romance and comedies."

AJ gagged. "Yuck."

"Aaaaagreed. Speagina whish, Pinkie." Rainbow leaned over, sloshing her drink. "Twenny bucks, you owe me, 'member?"

Sunset laughed. "In your state, Dash, I'm surprised you even remember something like that."

Pinkie giggled. "Oh yeah! Heehee, I don't actually have any money on me right now, sorry!"

"Maaan, das some bullshit. Whatever. I din'nt even want the money. Hic!"

Rarity cleared her throat. "I do believe our rainbow-haired compatriot has hit the drink harder than most. Perhaps someone should stop her before she, ahem." Rarity finger-quoted, "'Makes sick'."

"Wha? Nnn, fuck you Rarity. I'm fine, I can totally handle more. I'm fine, really. Seriously."

Sunset confirmed. "Yup, definitely had too much. Tera? Take her drink."

"Nooooooo!" Rainbow whined. She fumbled against the machine as it attempted to remove the glass from her hand, but she was too drunk to mount an effective defense. With a fierce tug, Tera yanked the screwdriver free and flew over to Sunset.

Rainbow, subsequently, fell on her face.

"Aheehee, floor feels funny."

"Thank youuuu~" Sunset sang, snatching the glass.

In one swig, she downed the entire beverage.

Whether because of the underage drinking she'd done when she was younger or the incongruities of being a displaced Equestrian, Sunset had a high tolerance for alcohol. It took her twice the usual amount to get drunk as any normal human.

As the night wore on, the drinks continued to flow. Rarity never raised herself above mildly tipsy, but Pinkie, Applejack, and Sunset were soon plastered. 

Rainbow, after falling onto the floor, passed out and drooled.

On the cajoling of Sunset and Pinkie, Fluttershy and Wallflower acquiesced to trying a drink. Wallflower took sips from multiple varieties, and found none to her liking.

Fluttershy knocked down enough shots to numb a horse.

She slurred, throwing her cards against the floor. "Oh my fucking god. Fucking stupid ass bullshit! Why do I never win? Stupid fuckin', god damn assmonkey shitcarnival fuckin'..."

"Shhorry Flufferfluff. Guess you're just not good'nuff at the game, heeheehic!" Pinkie beamed stupidly, wavering against Fluttershy's side.

"Calm down guys, it's naw a competi- competish- uhm, contest, thingy. Thing. Or, uhhh." Sunset thought a moment. "Kay, ignore me, 'm dumb. It totally kinda is."

Two hours passed. Time and inebriation both took their toll on the party.

Pinkie lost the battle against sleep first, snoring loudly on Fluttershy's shoulder.

Fluttershy gave in next. Lying down the party girl on the floor, she flopped onto the couch and snoozed into unconsciousness.

Then Applejack turned in, followed by a tipsy Rarity.

Wallflower excused herself after, and at last Twilight could hold out no longer, yawning between her apologies to Sunset.

"Iss fiiiine, dun worry abouddit. 'M sure'll goda sleep soon too," she assured. Minutes after, Twilight lay curled up on the sofa. Tera shut itself down with her, leaving Sunset alone in the quiet aftermath.

Like dominos, she thought. One after the other, they fell, yet left her standing.

Taking a last quick trip to the bathroom, she shut off the lights. She glanced towards the living room to see everyone sleeping - save Rarity, who opted for taking one of the Pie sisters' beds. 

Sunset got a strange sensation standing there, a tightness in her chest. It took a moment before she realized what she was feeling - melancholy - but she couldn't place why.

A breath of fresh air might do her good, she decided.

Tequila in hand, she zigzagged towards the door.

She expected a pleasant, quiet night. She expected the hum of crickets, the hoot of owls, the sounds of a light summer breeze.

She did not expect, stumbling onto the porch, to find Starlight and Twilight.

Squinting against the darkness, she scanned their confused faces. "Heeey, what're you doin' he- Hic! You guys doooo realize the party's, urp, over."

"Uh oh, Twilight. Looks like we got a drunk on our hands."

Yeaaahh, eheheh. Pnnkie like, got us the whooole house fertha weekend, so we got totally fuckin' hammered, dude."

Twilight crooked her head. "It does sound like you had a good time. And I apologize for not arriving sooner. Princess duties and everything, you know. The usual."

"We mostly came here to see you anyways."

"Whafur?"

"To wish you congratulations, of course." Twilight beamed, and pulled Sunset into a tight embrace. Sunset hiccuped. Stepping back, she let her waver backward until she found her footing. "Celestia and I are proud of you for coming so far."

"Pssshhh, s'nothing." Sunset, after a swig from the bottle, waved her hand dismissively. "S'jus highschool, lol. Wait, did I just say lol out loud? Haha, I'm so fucking drunk."

Shaking her head and making sure the door behind her was closed, Sunset lowered herself onto the stone porch. She sat back against the wall, legs sprawled out before her. "Woulda been better if I graduated from Celly's school, like I was s'posed to. But, oh well. I'm dumb, wasted an opportunity when I had it."

She took another swig.

Her fellow Equestrians exchanged glances.

Twilight held her gaze. "Are you... doing okay, Sunset?"

The question struck her like a rock. What did she mean by that? Of course, she was doing okay.

Wasn't she?

"Uhm. Yeah!" she lied, not very convincingly. "To'ally fine. Jusda bit tired's all. Annnnnd drunk."

"Mind if I take a sip?"

Sunset offered a wordless noise, handing Starlight the bottle.

"Starlight!"

"What? It can't hurt. I'll only have a little."

Twilight puffed. "Fine, but I'm not dealing with both of you sloshed, okay?"

"Relax, Twilight. When have I ever gone overboard?"

Twilight deadpanned.

"Okay, fair. I promise I won't get drunk. We cool now?"

"Pinkie Pie Promise?"

"Sure," Starlight sighed. "Pinkie Pie Promise. Yadda yadda heart and die, yadda yadda in my eye. Now lemme drink some damn booze, mom."

Sunset watched the bickering duo in amusement. Starlight tilted back her head, and in flowed through her lips the hard, burning taste of tequila.

"Mmh, that's the good shit right there. Twilight, you want some?

"Uh. No thanks. Back to the point, though. Sunset, would you mind if we sit with you?"

"Sure, why not. Just don't make too much noise. Buncha 'lil sleepin' fishies inside," she said, jerking an elbow to the door behind her. It thunked against the wood, and Sunset cradled it, hissing. "Ow."

To her right, Twilight took her place, Starlight to the left. They each gave her enough space to sprawl, for which she was thankful. Drunken sprawling felt good right about then.

"So Sunset," Starlight asked. She gulped another mouthful, exhaling at the soothing, fiery taste. "Now that you are done with high school, what're you planning?"

Sunset, cheek smooshed against her left shoulder, pondered. "I was planning on Uni, but..."

"But?"

"Iunnuh. Juss... I still wanna, but, like. Feels like somethin's missing, y'know? But Iunno what."

"Hm," Twilight intoned.

"Maybe you could take a gap year?" Starlight downed a third swig. "Your friends too, maybe, so you're not left behind. Ponies- er, people do that a lot when they're not totally sure what to do. Or, sometimes, it's just to relax and take a breather from life, or find a job."

"Maybe. Could be nice, I guess." Sunset pursed her lips. The tequila ran strong through her veins, but its warmth was steadily dissipating with the conversation. Whether that was a component of being required to think consciously or something else, she couldn't say. "Come to think of it, I don't even know how'm gonna pay for stupid college. It's not free like in Equestria, and tuition fees are a cunt."

Twilight's eyes went round. "Tuition fees? You pay for education on Earth?"

"Y- hic! Yyuuup, sure do. DOn't ask me about it, s'stupid. Still gotta figure out howta pay somehow."

"I am a Princess of Equestria, you know. I might not be able to fund you directly, but I'm certain I could find assets you could liquidate here on Earth for human money, or whatever it is you call it."

"Dollars. Bucks and cash too, but is dollars officially."

"Hic!"

"Moon curse it, Starlight! What did I tell you about the tequila?

"What? I'm cool. I'm fine. I'm cool.

...hic."

Peering over, Sunset cracked a wicked grin. In the short time their conversation had begun, Starlight drained over half the bottle.

"Thass my kinda girl," she cheered, nudging Starlight in the waist. "Good 'ol tequila. S'too bad it's called sunrise tequila though insteada Sunset, am I right?"

"You said it, sister."

"Sun and Moon, you two are unbelievable!"

Sunset and Starlight snickered. A comfortable silence followed, interrupted only by the occasional gulp. Crickets and cicadas and a hooting owl were their company, the foreign sea of stars their backdrop. And for a short time, Sunset was at peace.

Until Twilight spoke.

"What if you're homesick?"

Sunset blinked. "Huh?"

"It's just a suggestion. You've been living on Earth for five years. Maybe you just miss home."

A grimace, etched like stone, worked across her face. "I mean. Maybe?"

"Like I said, just a thought. You always have a place with me if you want to return. I'm sure Princess Celestia would have you as well."

Suddenly, Sunset had no desire to continue the conversation.

She stood, yawned, rubbed at her eyes. "Uh-huh. Well, I'm pretty tired at this point. Think I should catch up on some Zs about now."

Twilight, who stood after her, nodded. Sunset ignored the skeptical glint in her eye. "I understand. Starlight, do I need to get you up myself?"

"Uh-huh."

Groaning, Twilight bent over and got Starlight on her feet. Her beanie had fallen halfway off her head, and her constant wavering back and forth reminded Sunset of a waving reed.

"We're going to get home ourselves then. Celestia knows I'll need a couple shots of espresso if I'm going to function in the morning." Twilight hugged her a second time, before looping an arm around Starlight. "Have a good night, Sunset, and think on what I told you."

"I will," she said, smiling politely. The moment Twilight turned, her smile fell.

Halfway down the path, with Starlight's head lolled on her shoulder, Twilight paused.

"Hey Sunset?"

"Yeah, Twilight?"

"You did deserve a second chance. Don't ever doubt that."

They disappeared long into the night. Even after, Sunset stood for a long, long while.

"So. Homesick, huh?"

She considered it. The fact the notion made her so upset, logically, meant there was some truth in Twilight's words.

But tonight was not the night to think about them. She had been false about her being fine, but she was honest when she said she was tired. 

Stifling another yawn, Sunset, cat-like, weaved her way inside the house. A wayward observation of the living room told her there weren't any good spots left to sleep, so she padded her way upstairs instead.

She opted for Pinkie's bed. Marble's was taken up by Rarity, she didn't want to risk a confrontation with Limestone, and if she had to admit, she was somewhat wary of what she might find in Maud's.

So Pinkie's would have to do.

The sheer brightness of the room, even in the dead of early morning, made her gag. Too much pastel and that was coming from an Equestrian.

But the bed was nothing if not comfortable. Fluffy pillows were abound, and the softest, warmest comforter Sunset had known hugged her to sleep.

As the tide of slumber approached, Sunset thought about what Twilight said. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps she was homesick. Surely a trip to Equestria couldn't hurt, right? Especially if she and the girls took a gap year.

With that idea in mind, she fell asleep.

And Sunset dreamed of home.
> Chapter 2: How the Dawn Breaks
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

To the sound of rain, and by flickering lanternlight, Head Matron Swan sorted papers.

It was the least favorite part of her job, but as the director of an orphanage, it was important.

If nothing else, it gave her time to think.

Such luxuries were rarely afforded during the day, but she could not complain much. Few ponies could say they loved their work as much as Head Matron Swan.

Stamping one document and signing another, she thought back to when she'd discovered her passion.

Back then, she'd been older than most who got their cutie marks. That blankness of her flank earned her plenty of mockery from the mean girls at school, and a few from the boys. Mostly though, they'd rather try hitting on the pretty mare in the hallway, cutie mark or no.

The day she earned her cutie mark was utterly ordinary. If she'd been told that morning, she would never have believed it.

Swan liked to imagine it went that way for most ponies.

She had taken a foalsitting job for a couple - some friends of her father. She didn't do it out of the kindness of her heart. She needed the bits for a silly designer purse, made with the comfort of a pegasus' wings in mind. Now, she couldn't remember what its name was.

She did remember the boy.

He was cute, significantly younger than she - six years old where she was thirteen. His mane - a mop of blonde and blue curls - fell messily upon his face. They stood in stark contrast to one another, him possessing a coat somewhere between teal and powder blue. Her, boasting hot pink fur, and straight silky hair white like a swan's wings, painted by rose stripes.

Soft spoken, he made himself known as a shy pony. She'd been glad for that. She didn't want to deal with a difficult child.

In the beginning, she kept a distance. The idea of fraternizing with a foal, even for money, felt almost degrading. 

How silly an idea that was. How ironically childish.

Yet, as the day wore on, she found herself enjoying his company more and more. 

Once his shyness cracked, he exposed himself as an affable, funny, and intelligent young colt. They played games, had snacks, read a comic or three. Her favorite part was helping him to draw, using the pack of colored pencils she got from school. After radio shows lost their appeal, they ventured out to the yard.

Pegasi yards were not filled with grass and greenery as with the other tribes, not normally anyhow. They were formed of the same clouds that made up Cloudsdale's structures, packed firmly til hardness.

There they had the freedom to play more active games, of the sort she enjoyed when she'd been a filly - cloudball, hide and seek, skipscotch, tag.

During that last game, it happened.

She managed to sneak up behind him, touching his haunch with her wing. "Tag, you're it!" she exclaimed, giggling. He whipped around, huffed, started after her.

Her age, speed, and experience made escaping a breeze. By no means could she compete in some place like the Junior Speedsters Academy, but to beat a first grader? That she could do.

But maybe she'd gone tooo fast, tempted him to push himself too far.

She didn't see what happened, but she heard. As quickly as she flew she careened, racing to the sound of his cry.

She found him crumpled.

Curled into a ball, he cradled his wounded foreleg. Tears stained his cheeks as much as blood streaked the fur.

She remebered in vivid detail - too much detail - the striking clash of wet crimson against matted teal.

The scrape was nothing that couldn't be fixed. Soap, hot water, and a generous packing of gauze would solve the issue, but that didn't change the hurt.

Her heart ached.

She scooped him into her forelegs, her wings. Rocking back and forth she crooned, stroking a hoof through his curls and whispering promises that everything would be alright.

When he calmed down, and the flow of watery sobs trickled to errant sniffling, she brought him inside. She washed the wound, cleaned it, wrapped it, applied pressure. For his troubles she offered him a bowl of icecream, the biggest there was in the cabinets.

In spite of the pain, he smiled.

Hugging her tight, he said she was his most favorite foalsitter in the world.

From her core blossomed a feeling, one that Swan today could say she'd not felt since. She could take that feeling and ride it to the tallest peak of Equus. She could hold it dear on a freezing winter night, and never grow cold.

She could die with that feeling, and be happy.

He gasped, and she pulled back. "What is it?" she said, worried. "Is your scrape okay?"

"No, look! Your cutie mark!"

"What did he mean by that? She didn't have a cutie mark.

"My what now?"

He pointed his hoof insistently. She looked.

And understood.

There, on her flank - a heart, bubblegum within and baby pink without. White and red swan's wings wrapped about it, as if to embrace, made from cut ribbon.

It was her destiny.

She loved children. Nothing in Equestria existed that gave her the joy of caring for them, making them smile, offering comfort when they were hurt.

She took a lot more foalsitting jobs after that.

Graduating from highschool led her to search for proper employment. She faced limited options. Many fields involved with foals required degrees she did not have, nor did she want.

She found work at a nursery. Given menial tasks such as providing food, water, changing cloths and diapers meant she always had something to do, but she missed the satisfaction. These weren't just foals, they were babies. Her individual participation held no impact, made no difference.

So after a few years, she looked elsewhere.

With experience under her belt, she wound up at the Cloudsdale Orphanage. It would not be the one she stayed at, but it was the one to propel her forward into her dream career.

Cloudsdale's Orphanage could permit pegasi only, but Swan wished to help foals from every tribe. At twenty seven she resigned, leaving for the shining jewel of Equestria to find more diverse opportunities. There she discovered the Royal Canterlot Orphanage, run off the direct funding from the Princess' coffers. Offering the best conditions and most prestige, it seemed an obvious choice. The paycut was insignifcant in the face of those details.

Ever since, she had resided. Countless children came and went. Some found adoptees, others did not.

She loved them all the same, and took pride in helping them grow.

And after thirteen years of service, she became the Head Matron.

That was some two decades ago.

She was an older mare now. Those years took their toll on her body. Wrinkles tugged at her face. Her fur, once luscious and shiny, had faded to an off fuschia. Her hair retained its brightness but lost the waviness and volume it once held. Her eyes though, soft and kind, the color of blueberries, remained bright as ever.

Humming a tuneless melody, she placed a stack of signed pages to the left, stamped to the right. As she prepared to begin the next unsorted pile, she heard a sound.

Her ears strained to listen. While her vision was sharp like in her youth, the same could not be said for her hearing. The sheets of rain from outside, pounding against the roof, made the task no easier.

She waited, and heard it again. Rhytmic, hard, impactful. The noise floated from down the hall, near the front entrance.

A knock.

Grunting, she stood from her chair. How long had she been sitting? The snap, crackle, and pop of her joints told her it must have been over an hour.

Gently clip-clopping her way towards the front, two large double wooden doors, she wondered what it might have been. After her time working at an Orphanage she had reason to suspect a couple things.

At this time of night, one seemed more likely than the other.

Unlocking and pushing open the leftmost door, she discovered no one there. She called out, just in case, and received no answer.

She knew what this was, then.

Glancing down, she confirmed her suspicions.

A basket lay at the precipice. Inside rest a swaddle of cloth, colored like a tropical sea. Between the folds, towards the top, a golden nub of a horn poked out through a mess of red and yellow strands.

Big, soulful eyes peered up at her. They were, she noted, the same shade as the blanket.

"Hello little one," she heard herself say. Her voice sounded distant, muffled by the rain. "Let's bring you in, hm?"

Taking the basket's handle between her teeth, she paced backwards. She shut the door, and made for her own room. Not until paperwork had been settled and the foal had become adjusted to this place could she put them in the nursery.

"Here you go. I have to go work now sweetling, but I'll be back shortly, alright? Just close your eyes and get some rest."

Placing the genlest of kisses upon the baby's horn, she noted something. A tag was attached to the handle, and a pair of letters were fit in beside the blankets. Squeezed in beside the foal fit a hoof-stitched plush toy, a bright golden sun with a big, smiling face, sewn onto it a pair of small framed glasses.

She took the former, and left the latter. Walking downstairs away from the Matron's Quarters, Swan re-entered her workspace. Placing each upon her desk she read.

The tag came first. 'Sunset Shimmer', it said. The name of the foal.

Next were the letters, sealed within non-descript envelopes.

She cracked open the first.

'My shimmering Sunset,'

She stopped reading there. This was not meant for her eyes.

The second addressed her. Not specifically, but in spirit. It described the author's situation, why she had left her foal - a filly, Kindfeather now knew - and a desperate plea.

Like other letters of similar ilk, she would do her best to honor it. From now on til she could no longer, the care of Sunset Shimmer was her duty.

Her, among many.





Sunset was a willful little thing.

This became apparent the first day, when she tossed her food in Swan's face.

The other foals ate their breakfast without issue, a mix of unsalted, unspiced peas and porridge. But no, not Sunset Shimmer.

Wiping the grool off her fur, she attempted to feed Sunset more directly.

The second the spoon neared her lips, magic flung it across the room.

Swan tried everything she could, all the tricks and combinations of words that could settle unruly foals. 

Sunset was not to be dissuaded.

Swan gave up. She had to figure out what this imp of a unicorn would take. Several hours and bowls of spilled food later, she had her answer.

It turned out the little she-devil enjoyed her meals spicy.

Her wild nature extended to places beyond meal time also. Swan had seen this before; foals did not always take so well to new locations, let alone without the presence of their caretaker.

Interactions with other foals yielded just as poor results. She hoarded toys, and when another child - or adult - attempted to take them from her, she threw the hissy fit to end all hissy fits. Blocks were thrown, dolls ripped apart, many an infant left crying, and a mess for the matrons to clean up.

Meeting with those matrons one afternoon, they discussed what was to be done. The conclusion they came to was to isolate the child, until she could behave around others.

The tipping point came with her magical outbursts. Common knowledge spoke on the power of a baby unicorn's magic, but Sunset was something else.

The worst of it happened when one of Swan's assistants - Mayflower - tried coaxing a train from the filly's grasp. All seemed to be going well, until Mayflower's hooves touched the toy.

Then, Sunset teleported her straight inside a wall.

Luckily, it was Mayflower's front that stuck out the wall, leaving her able to breathe, but it took an hour to get her out. Now, they had to cover the hole up and wait for a repairpony.

No less chaos marked the weeks following. Sunset proved herself a ticking time bomb. It was a matter of when - not if - she blew up.

"She's a firecracker," one mare said, not meant as a compliment.

Another smiled, amused. "Have you seen her hair? It's no wonder she's got such a fiery personality, ha!"

For a few months, Swan worried the foal might have to be moved elsewhere.

She hated transfers. In other orphanages, she couldn't know that a child was being treated properly. Sometimes though, no other choices remained.

This did not come to pass.

They learned, pouring through various methods, that Sunset most consistently behaved for Swan. Said consistency was relative, but better relative than not at all.

She took full responsibility for the filly's care. The hope was this position would be temporary.

In the meanwhile, she played with her, read to her, taught her the things a small one needed knowing.

One thing a pony could not say about little Sunshim was this - she was not a dumb filly.

She learned fast. Round pegs in square holes? Forget it. That toy set got tossed out before the week's end.
Swan pulled out the mazes. Then the puzzles. Finally, they settled on construction sets, the sort that a pony could mix and match to their heart's desire. Only then did Swan sate Sunset's endless demand for rigor.

More months passed, and Sunset spoke her first word.

"No!"

She said it when Swan placed the peas porridge on her table. Confused, Swan investigated, sniffed.

She forgot to spice it.

At least Sunset didn't throw it in her face anymore.

Time continued its inexorable march. Swan handled the orphanage's duties, as always. In them she managed Sunset's paperwork, and got her in the system. That dealt with, they could wait a few years and find her a placement in school.

Once Sunset became capable of speech, Swan instructed her more personally. She taught her the concepts any pony young or old should know - boundaries, kindness, empathy.

These Sunset took to less easily, but she managed. By the third year, she could interact with others without too much incident.

That wasn't to say she was perfect about it, though few children were.

She got into fights. Nothing serious ever occurred, but she'd embroil herself in the occasional spat over what toy belonged to whom, or if said comment was meant as an insult.

And she loved competition. Wherever she could make one, she did, with peers and matrons alike. Staring contests, tower building, speed reading - nothing lay out the realm of possibility.

There was nothing wrong with that, not necessarily, but Sunset despised losing.

If she blinked first she denied it, would turn it into a whole debate. If her tower toppled first, she smacked the other down in anger. If her competitor finished reading before her, she took the book for herself, or ripped it up in front of them.

On this matter, Swan had two comforts. One was that Sunset rarely lost.

The second - the children soon learned not to participate in Sunset's 'games'.

It wasn't that Sunset meant to be mean. While she had issues interacting with others, she meant welll. When push came to shove she could be the friendliest, most charming little filly this side of Equestria.

Yet she was so easy to upset. Any friends she made she' inevitably pushed away, often without intending to, because of her explosions or callous disregard. Other times, she got wrapped up in her schoolwork and own ambitions, forgetting the friendship existed to begin with.

From the reports Swan received, the story went the same way in school. Teachers lauded her performance, but lambasted her attitude.

She was mouthy, they said - loud, egotistical, disruptive: a troublemaker. Sadly, Swan couldn't disagree.

She knew the label that applied to Sunset Shimmer:

Problem child.

She'd dealt with those in the past. A fact of working with children meant you would inevitably come across at least one. How you chose to deal with that was up to you.

Swan handled hers with patience, compassion, and understanding.. She saw how it went with those who preferred punishment and retribution. It rarely went well.

She always reaped better rewards from expressing empathy, and getting to the root of the problem. Bad behavior wasn't the sickness on its own, but the symptom. If you could determine the underlying cause and tackle it with care, the sickness would cure itself. In this way, Swan acted as a kind of therapist.

The challenge Sunset presented was she refused to talk about her problems.

Oh, Swan knew they were there. There was no denying that.

Where other ponies cracked under Swan's gentle words and earnest reassurances, Sunset clammed up. No pony that had nothing to hide did that.

"Are you doing okay?" Swan might ask.

"I'm fine." Sunset would always say.

"What did you do that for?"

"He looked at me funny!" or "She was being stupid!"

"Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

The pattern stuck on repeat, over and again. Sunset was an enigmatic filly, a blackout puzzle box Swan wanted to piece apart, but could never so much as remove the exterior shell. She had her guesses, thinking that Sunset did what she did as some form of self-imposed expectation, but Swan couldn't say anything for certain.

Sunset was exhausting, simple as that.

Perhaps Swan might not concern herself to the same extent in another's case, but she'd taken responsbility for the foal. She took that oath, she swore the filly would be her charge and under her care. That she'd met Sunset's mother or not didn't matter. It had to mean for something, and Swan would die before she saw the filly enter her father's custody.

Worse, she saw the potential in Sunset. Smart, determined, ambitious, talented - she bore the traits of somepony who could become great.

Just as  much, she lacked discipline, forethought, and self-reflection.

Then one night Swan glimpsed Sunset's mind, if only for a moment.

Up late again, she busied combing through documents the same way she'd done that night Sunset arrived. Only the evening lay still, no rain or storm to be found.

The filly's voice pulled her from the papers. She glanced up, and smiled.

Tears ran down amber cheeks.

Sunset never cried.

Celestia knew she had plenty reason to with all the injuries she gave herself playing. Swan remembered her scraping her knees once, like that colt had, yet despite being nearly half his age she shed not a one tear, gave not a one sniffle.

"Sunny," she said, stood. Moving towards her, Swan extended her wing. "Sweetling. Is everything alright?"

She half expected the girl to say 'Yes, I'm fine', like she had every time before.

Instead, she shook, and cried harder. Kindfeather frowned, and swept her in close. She laid her chin atop Sunset's head, careful to avoid the horn, and stroked a hoof down her back.

"Shhh," she soothed, the way she'd done with that same boy. "It's okay. I'm here. I've got you."

It took several minutes of calming before Sunset could speak. When she did, she blubbered over the words, struggling to compose herself.

"I-I had a nightmare. I've had it a bunch of times and I thought they would go away but they keep happening a-and, and this one was the worst."

She nodded, shushing her further, nuzzling at her cheek. "Tell me, sunshine. I'm here for you."

"On any other night, Swan would meet with denial, obstruction, walls upon walls upon walls.

That night was different.

"I'm i-in the rain. It's nighttime, and raining really really hard. Somepony is... somepony is above me but I can't see them, b-but I know they're trying to keep me safe. B-b-but I can't see anything else, and I don't know what's going on, and then they put me down. I keep begging them not to leave me alone but they won't listen, o-or can't hear me, I dunno which. And it's dark, and I can't see anything, but it's cold and raining and it's stupid and I'm stupid but it just keeps making me cry and I don't know why." Blubbering out the final words, her body wracked with sobs.

Swan understood. And in that moment her heart broke, just a little.

She didn't push for more. The dream was clear - a half-forgotten memory, twisted and tainted by time, festering with the implaceable sense that something was missing.

That someone was missing.

After that night, she thought often to the letter she had not read, and whether she should bring it up to Sunset.

Ultimately, she decided to keep it from her. When Sunset was older, more mature, and would understand such things, then it would be time.

Until then, she would do her best.





Sunset knew, by the early dawn's blue through her window, it was time to get up.

She didn't want to. School was boring, and her classmates didn't like her. Besides, she was way ahead of her grade. Why couldn't they move her up? At least she'd be interested in the schoolwork again.

Stupid. It was stupid. And dumb.

She closed her eyes. Maybe, if she couldn't see the light, the time wouldn't matter. Maybe she could pretend to be asleep, or trick Matron Swan into believing she had come down with a cold.

There was no point in the last one though. Matron Swan was a smart mare, and an old one. She knew those sorts of tricks.

Listening to the gentle rise and fall of her chest, she chose the first option. And if that didn't work, she'd whine and resist for as long as possible. She'd sstill be made to attend, but she'd be getting there late instead of early. That, for her, was victory enough.

Knock knock knock.

"Sunseeeet." Matron Swan's voice wafted into the room, like the pleasant smell of honey. "It's time to get up."

Sunset huffed. Obviously it was time to get up. She didn't need to be told that.

A pause lingered, then knocking again. "Sunset!"

She didn't stir. As much time in bed as she could get, that was what she wanted. And what she wanted, she was determined to get.

"Sunset, I know youre awake," said the Matron. Quiet briefly, before she heard a sigh from the other side. Then, "I'm coming in."

The door knob, an ugly, weathered brass thing that was probably centuries old, rattled. Hinges creaked, and without Sunset having to see Matron Swan entered.

"Sunset, you can't stay in bed all day. You have school to go to. It's important."

Psh, Sunset thought. Important for dumb ponies maybe, but she wasn't dumb.

"Okay, last chance. Get up now, or I'll make you get up."

Sunset remained defiant.

Hoofsteps echoed around her. She felt the Matron's presence near the bottom of her bed, then something grasp the bottom sheet.

...and rip it away. Sunset flailed, groaning as the cold morning air seeped into her fur.

"Nooo, that's not faiiir!"

"All's fair in love and war my dear Sunset." The Matron seemed pleased with herself. Sunset glared. "Now get up, you. Time for school."

"School is dumb," she said. "Everything is easy."

"What is or is not easy is no matter to me. I and everypony working here is responsible for getting you an education. If you truly wish, I could look into petitioning the school for moving you up a grade."

Sunset gasped. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Her tone shifted, becoming stern. "But only if you get that little butt of yours out of bed."

That was enough for her. Nodding frantically, Sunset unfurled herself and scrambled upon her hooves. She gathered her books and supplies in her magic, the ones she'd taken out for homework last Friday, and shoved them into her bookbag.

"I'm ready!" she said, chest puffed out.

"No." Swan shook her head. "You're not. You need to brush your teeth, and you need to eat breakfast."

Sunset stamped her hoof. "But whyyyy? I hate breakfast. And why would I brush my teeth before eating, shouldn't I do it after?"

Frowning, Matron Swan walked behind her, and pushed her forwards with both wings. "Because I said so, Missy. Now hurry up. If you hate breakfast so much, it's about to go cold and you'll really hate it then. You're already late."

Reluctantly, Sunset did as she was asked. She brushed her teeth, angrily. She didn't know why because nopony was around to see or hear it. She guessed she just liked the feeling of defiance.

Breakfast was also lame, as usual. Scrambled eggs and hay sausage, boring. The hot sauce helped, and she did admittedly like the orange juice.

Then she was out the front doors. Matron Kindfeather watched her go, waving and smiling, wishing her fun and good luck.

Sunset tried to be on good behavior after that. She gave room for other ponies to raise their hooves, didn't speak unless spoken to. She didn't even play a single prank, not a one!

Her patience wore thin by Math class. Recess came next, and she itched for playtime. Ponies might not have liked playing with her one-on-one - 'too mean' they called her - but when teams formed up she provided an invaluable asset, 'cause they knew she was the best.

But until then, she endured math.

The teacher, Mister Cosine, talked on about longer form arithmetic, using two-digit numbers instead of one. 

Sunset yawned. She learned how to do that on her own ages ago.

Fidgeting, she searched for something to hold her attention. She could draw, but whenever she tried outside of Art class she'd be scolded for it. Stupid, she thought. She could still focus on what the teacher was saying when she was doodling.

Thoughtful, Sunset gazed at her bag. It leaned against the desk's leg beside her. Inside lie her lunch, including a big bottle of juice and a straw.

An idea sprang to mind, and a wicked grin followed.

Her horn twinkled with tealish magic, and she teased the straw within. Sliding it out, quiet as you please, she tore a piece off her notebook paper and chewed.

Next, she surveyed the room. She had a big class, two rows on either side. Front and back there were ten rows, so fifty in the whole room, though not every desk held a student.

There! A dorky-looking colt, with big round glasses and the chocolate hair. He sat far enough away she could avoid detection.

Darting her eyes back and forth, she checked to ensure nopony was looking. Nopony was, so she lined up her shot, wrapping her lips around the straw, and blew.

"Heeey!"

Mister Cosine's peppered orange hair jostled. His mustache quivered as he spoke. "Mister Fudge, what is the meaning of this interruption?"

"Someone spat paper at me!"

Snickering, Sunset hid the straw in her desk's cubby holder. She tried to tamp down on her satisfaction, didn't want anypony to see her smirk.

To avoid suspicion, for as much good as it'd do, she bore holes into her notebook. She felt his eyes on them, before settling on her.

"Miss Shimmer."

"Yes, Mister Cosine?"

"Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No, Mister Cosine. I was reading my notes from Friday."

It was a two-pronged lie. If she was lucky, he'd pay more attention to the second than the first.

"You should be taking notes on this class, not reading notes from last, Miss Shimmer. You may do excellent work but that does not excuse you from following directions. Now, as I was saying-"

It worked! It usually did, except on Matron Swan. She always saw through her lies, somehow.

For the rest of the period, she entertained herself by shooting more wads at ponies. She was too quick, too stealthy for anyone to catch her, so she got cocky.

Ten minutes before the bell rang, she slipped up. Thinking she could get the filly to her left, one seat up, she spat.

Her thinking proved wrong.

Before she could hide the straw, the filly noticed.

"Mister Cosine, Mister Cosine!"

"Yes, Miss Tinsel?"

"Sunset is blowing paper wads at ponies! She just shot me with one, look look!"

Mister Cosine came by, investigating the wet glob of paper in Tinsel's hair, a weave of silver and gold. "Hm. And do you have any proof it was Miss Shimmer?"

"Beyond the obvious?" one pony said, a row to Sunset's right. "She's always the one doing stuff!"

"I saw her hiding a straw," accused Tinsel. "Look in her desk, you'll see it!"

"Miss Shimmer, is this true? If you admit your troublesome doing now I'll let you off easy."

"I didn't do anything!"

Frowning, Mister Cosine went to her. He peered into the darkness of the desk's cubby, and spotted her straw.

His frown deepened. "Please move your things to the back of class, Miss Shimmer."

Head down, she nodded, obeyed. Grabbing her things in her magic, she teleported them and herself to a lone desk at the back, tucked into a far corner.

"Show-off!" Tinsel jeered.

"Quiet, quiet! I've had quite enough interruptions today. Since we are finished with the lesson, I will assign you your homework. I expect it on my desk by tomorrow. I'll be leaving for a little while and there will be a substitute in my stead."

A cheer rose from the crowd.

"Oho, don't think you're getting off easy, ponies. She'll be checking to make everyone has turned their work in. If it's not there, no recess for you for a week!"

The cheer became a collective "Awwwww..."

After explaining the assignment, he cut class early. Ponies were all smiles. Any amount of extra recess time was precious.

Grining, Sunset packed her things and hopped off her seat. He stopped her as she made for the door.

"Not you, Miss Shimmer. We need to talk."

Trotting towards his desk, she waited. Unspeaking he graded papers, from a class she didn't recognize, but stood one grade above hers.

She could've known that by the long division. She learned about that from a math textbook Swan gave her.

Finally he finished. His orange eyes met hers, and she could see the lines of his scowl beneath the bushy mustache. "Miss Shimmer. Are you aware of why you are here, instead of playing out there?" He gestured to the window, outside the view of the schoolyard.

"No," she lied.

"Because you were causing trouble and interrupting my class. Several times, might I add."

"But I-"

"No buts. This is a pattern of behavior I've noticed from you, Miss Shimmer, and I grow weary of it. Troublemakers are something I am accustomed to, and you have officially crossed that line for me from mere troublemaker to delinquent. If you do not shape up your act, I will be forced to report you to the Principal's office."

She pouted.

"And furthermore. As punishment, you will not be going to recess today. You will stay here, and you will write 'I will not blow spitwads at ponies' on the blackboard until I tell you to stop. With!" he punctuated. "Your mouth. I do not want to see a single solitary twinkle of magic. Am I understood?"

She lowered her gaze and answered, "Yes, Mister Cosine."

"Good. I will be here to make sure you do your job. Now get it done and be quiet aboutt it. I have papers to grade."

Without reply, she walked defeatedly towards the blackboard. She took the biggest chalk piece there was, knowing she would need it, and began to write.

I... will... not... blow... spitwads... at... ponies...

Used to her magic, the words came slow and clumsy. They scrawled in jagged, ugly lines, not like her usual elegant curves.

To herself, she glared at Mister Cosine. He was a big jerk. He knew she used her magic to write, not her mouth.

Stupid, Sunset thought. Stupid Tinsel, stupid Mister Cosine, stupid school.

What harm was there in what she'd been doing? She hadn't meant any harm or ill by it. It was just a bit of fun, that was all. SHe wouldn't have even done it except for class being so dang boring. That was their fault for not placing her correctly, not hers for being too smart.

Surely, her parents would understand.

She tried not to think about them too often, about why they left her there. They must have had a good reason for doing it, right?

That's what she told herself, anyway.

She thought about asking Matron Swan regarding that once or twice. She never gotten the courage to actually do it, though.

One day, she would.

After what felt like forever, forced to listen to the sounds of play from outside, the bell rang. Another forever passed, and the bell rang again. By then she'd had to pull out a stool and balance upon it to reach the upper heights of the board.

Don't look down, she told herself. Don't look down, or you'll fall.

"Mister Cosine, the bell rang."

He gave no acknowledgement.

"I'm gonna be late for class."

"Yes, you will."

Minutes passed before he spoke again. "You may leave now, Miss Shimmer."

She said nothing, dropped the chalk in the holder, and entered the hallway.

Outside the classroom, she grumbled under her breath.

"Well well well, look what the cat dragged out!"

Sunset glanced up. "Oh. Hi, Tinsel."

Tinsel sneered. The expression made her pretty face ugly. Her light cream fur, dusted by silvery and golden freckles, wrinkled in contempt.

Flanking her stood two fillies, Gold Foil and Emerald Eminence. A broad, toothy grin split Foil's deep sandy face, over which hung swooping blonde bangs. Emerald in comparison looked bored, eyes vaguely focused, but her brilliant green eyes shone with enthusiasm, matching the jewel-like colors of her pelt and mane.

"What do you want," Sunset asked. "I'm late for History class."

"What I want is revenge. You spat at me."

"I was just trying to have fun."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have picked someone else. Orphan girl."

Sunset glared. "Hey, you take that back!"

"Nuh uh. Orphan girl, orphan girl, orphan girl!"

The trio inched forward. Sunset stamped her hoof, flaring her nostrils. "Don't come any closer or I'll zap you!" she threatened, warning them off with her magic.

"Ooooh, woooow, sooooo scary. Emerald? Teach her a little lesson in humility." Tinsel grinned. "Spit on her."

Sunset reeled as the glob of saliva spattered her cheek. It stuck to her fur, warm and tacky. "Stop!"

"Gold."

"Gold Foil spit on her again, hitting her eye. It stung, and she squeezed it tight.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't ever let them see you cry.

"I-I'll zap you, I'm serious."

"Aww, looks like Orphan girl is scared. Poor widdle baby," Gold Foil mocked. Sunset wanted to slap her. "Can't even stand the taste of her own medicine."

"Maybe we should chew up her note book," suggested Emerald. Then spit the wads back at her."

Tinsel gasped. "Oh my gosh, Emmy. You are so smart," she gushed. "Girls, get her."

"No!" yelled Sunset. Before they took another step, she made good on her threats. She lit her horn brighter, and threw a spark of concentrated magic at each of them.

Tinsel shouted. Gold managed to dodge, but wound up knocking Tinsel into the line of fire, and threw Emerald onto her side.

"Teacher, teacher!"

Sunset's eyes went huge. Terrified, she turned tail and fled.

Thank Celestia History was on the other side of school.

When she arrived, panting, sweaty, Miss Globetrot gave her a skeptical look.

"Sunset Shimmer," she said. Her coat was a splotchy mix of vanilla and chocolate, with a straight, blonde and braided mane. Her eyes, soft and understanding, reminded Sunset of Matron Swan.

Today, they did not seem so kind.

"You're late."

"I-I know, I'm sorry. I really am. Mister Cosine held me up in class, and, and-" She stopped. Should she tell her about Tinsel? "I had an accident in the hall. I'm sorry."

Globetrot considered this for a moment. Eternity passed in which Sunset's heartbeat thrummed in her skull before she sighed and answered, "Okay. But don't be late like this again or I'll have to speak with your Matron."

"Yes ma'am."

Taking a seat on the spot closest to her, Sunset thought about what happened in the hall.

She shouldn't have zapped them, she could tell that right away. Without a doub in her mind, they were going to report her to Mister Cosine, and he would bring them with him to report to the Principal. Assuming things went bad, she'd be called into the office later this class. If she was lucky, she'd have to face Matronn Swan later.

Either way, Sunset did not look forward to the rest of the day.





That evening, Sunset sketched in her sketchpad. Unlike the notebook, it was for her eyes, her doodles only. No math, no notes, no nothing. Just her art.

She hadn't been called into the office, thankfully. That probably meant the Principal had some suspicion Sunset wasn't fully to blame.

Tinsel was a nasty filly, and devilishly good at making herself appear innocent. But the Principal was smart. She could tell an act when she saw it. In that way, she wasn't unlike the Matrons - the older ones, anyway.

But Matron Swan hadn't spoken one word since she got home. Sunset hadn't seen her either, so she figured she must have been going through papers in her office.

The more the hours went by, the more Sunset started to believe there would be no confrontation. Perhaps she'd been especially lucky today, and the Principal had dismissed Tinsel's accusations off hoof.

The moment Swan entered with dinner, Sunset's hopes fell. She knew that expression anywhere.

"Hello, Sunset," she said.

"Hi, Matron Swan."

In her left wing Swan cradled a bowl, gently steaming. The scent of roasted peppers and tomatoes rolled off it in waves.

Her nostrils burned, and Sunset's stomach rumbled. She realized how hungry she actually was.

"What is it you're working on there?"

Matron Swan, placing the bowl and spoon on the desk, looked over Sunset's shoulder.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing to me. I think it looks very pretty. Did you draw this yourself?"

That was a stupid question, Sunset thought. Of course she drew it, who else? 

She didn't say that out loud though. Instead, she gazed down at the drawing, two ponies made of flame dancing together.

"Uh huh."

"Have you finished your homework?"

"No."

The Matron sighed. "Sunset, please. You need to do your homework. I already received a message from the Principal today about you acting up."

Sunset chewed her lip. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. You were blowing spitwads at ponies, and you zapped three fillies in the hall."

'Liar,' Sunset thought, though not directed at Swan. Tinsel lied. She only zapped her and Emerald.

Sunset kept her mouth shut.

"Is everything alright, Sunset?"

Ugh, that question again.

"Yes. I'm fine."

Swan's face scrunched. Sighing, she continued, "Could you at least tell me what happened?"

"I wasn't doing anything wrong," Sunset explained. She did believe it, honestly. Why did nopony else? "The paper, the spitwads I mean. I was just bored and trying to have fun. I don't get why it's a problem."

"It's not very nice to spit on ponies, and you should have been paying attention in class to begin with."

Sunset returned to what Tinsel and her goons did to her. She remembered how her eye stung.

But no. That was different. She had been doing it for fun, no other reason. They did it to be mean.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry."

"And what's this about you attacking three girls? Tinsel, Gold, Emerald - do those names ring any bells?"

Sunset blushed. She maintained her focus on the drawing, staring hard enough to make the fiery ponies catch fire for real.

"They were bullying me," she said, barely a whisper.

"Bullying you?"

"Uh huh. I blew a wad at Tinsel, and she caught me and got me in trouble with Mister Cosine. Then Mister Cosine made me write "I will not blow spitwads at ponies" on the board, and wouldn't let me use my magic. He held me back ten minutes from History too."

Sunset glanced at Matron Swan. Her expression betrayed no emotion.

"Go on," she urged. "I'm listening."

"And when I left for History, Tinsel and her friends were there. They called me Orphan girl, and-"

The Matron's brows furrowed. "Does that name bother you?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

"I... I dunno, but they were using it to make fun of me."

Swan sighed, brushing feathers across Sunset's back. "Sweetling, there is nothing wrong with being an orphan. That is just the situation some ponies find themselves in. It's not your fault. But still, unkind names are not a good reason for hurting other ponies. If someone is bullying you, tell a teacher, or try to get away. Escalation of conflict does no good."

Sunset huffed. "You didn't let me finish! They called me Orphan girl, and then started spitting on me. Emerald, or Gold, I don't remember. She spat in my eye, and it really hurt. Then they were gonna steal my notebook, and eat the paper and spit it on my face."

A scowl creased the Matron's features. "Is this true?"

Sunset nodded. She hoped the honesty in her eyes shone through.

"I'll speak with the Principal about this then, and Mister Cosine. We'll get to the bottom of this, alright honey? But that changes nothing about what I said."

She leaned in, and kissed Sunset on the forehead. Instinctively, she nuzzled against the Matron's chest fluff.

"Thank you."

"Of course. Now be a good girl and do your homework. When you're done with dinner, bring the dishes to the sink."

"Okay," she promised, and Swan left.

Fortunately, homework took little time for Sunset to finish, because she was so smart. Unfortunately, Monday meant she had lots of homework to do.

But she persisted.

While she worked, she ate. The peppery stew burned delightful on her tongue, running creamy down her throat. She loved spicy food. It made everything better.

Swan told her once, when she was a baby, she would throw her food if it wasn't spiced enough. Sunset thought that was funny.

When shee finished up, it was late, and there was no time for reading or doodling. So she went to bed, and pulled up the covers.

Looking to the side, she found her plush. Matron Swan told her it came with the basket she arrived in, a gift from her mother.

She pulled the stitched, smiling sun close. Hugging Mister Sunny to her chest, she stared at the ceiling and the bleak blue glow of night.

She tried not to think about it often, but sometimes she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. How different would things be if she wasn't an orphan? If she had her parents around?

What would they say? Surely they'd take her side, right? That's what parents did. Matron Swan was nice, but Sunset was just another filly among dozens to her. She didn't really matter in her eyes.

But Matron Swan was there, and her parents weren't.

She squeezed Mister Sunny hard.

They should be there. She liked to believe they had good reasons for abandoning her, but she didn't know that. Maybe they were lazy. Maybe they hated her, or didn't want her.

An idea sprouted in her mind. It blossomed, peeling outwards like a sickly, diseased flower.

If they were good parents, she wouldn't be here right now.

She quashed the thought as soon as it sprang. No, she said. That wasn't true. They had reasons, good ones, honest ones. She just knew it.

Yet, the inkling lingered.

Yawning, Sunset turned on her side. Magic fluffed her pillow, and she cradled her plushie tight, like she would her mom or dad, if they were there.

Wetness beaded at her vision. Only alone did she dare to cry.

Tomorrow was another day, she told herself.

Tomorrow was another day.
> Chapter 3: Come Home, Sweetling
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Within the bounds of her skull, wardrums pounded.

Groaning, Sunset twisted herself from the sheets. She had a hangover.

Pure instinct could have told her that, but personal experience was not an insignifcant player either. She tried holding on to the knowledge such hangovers passed her by quickly, but in the awful, skull-splitting throb of the moment, that was difficult to keep in perspective.

Knowing her friends were likely having a rougher go of it gave her the strength needed to rise. Not everyone had indulged themselves, but Rainbow, Pinkie, and Fluttershy hit the bottle hard, Pinkie especially.

This presumed she was the one Sunset heard throwing up the previous night. That could also have been Fluttershy.

Downstairs, her suspicions were confirmed. Those three were splayed out or curled up around the living room nursing their hangovers, while everyone else cleaned. Terabyte assisted them, making up for the lost difference.

"Hey," croaked Sunset. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Ya'll look like trash. Sure yer in a good'nuff place fer that, sugarcube?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. Trust me when I say I've dealt with this before. I get over hangovers quickly."

"No need to rub it in," Rainbow said. Her eyes were closed and she held a palm to her head, taking intermittent swallows of water.

Sunset shrugged. "Just stating the facts."

She turned away and got to work. They hadn't made too much of a mess, fortunately. There wasn't even one shattered bottle or smear of blood, and in some of the places Sunset liked going to, that didn't make it much of a party at all.

When they finished, Sunset's migraine had dulled to a mild headache. Many of the girls said their goodbyes, whilst others stayed behind to hide their hangovers from their parents. Sunset had no such parents to worry about, however.

Hopping on her motorcycle, revving it up, she raced back to what for her counted as home.

She knew she was close once the potholes appeared. Before long the sight of her apartment block rose into view. It was a small, cheap, rundown thing, but the rent was good, and despite appearances, crime wasn't too horrible.

That didn't mean it was non-existent.

After unlocking the front door, she heaved the vehicle up and carried it inside. There, she laid it against the entry wall, where only it would ever reside.

Since the rum had barely been touched, she'd brought it back with her. She'd tried going for the tequila as well, before remembering Starlight had walked off with it. At least it wouldn't go to waste.

Now that she was home, she just wanted some water.

A beaten up couch made up the centerpiece of her living room, as it had been for years. She crashed onto it and grabbed her controller, hoping video games might quiet her unstill mind.

Game after game, she grew increasingly agitated. The longest she could play one was half an hour. Most lasted for less.

After failing to find something that could hold her attention, she decided to clean. Popping in her earbuds, she anticipated being able to finish a couple episodes of her favorite podcast.

She didn't finish one.

Sunset wasn't sure what she expected. Her apartment was a small, cramped thing with little in the way of furniture. Anything else like her TV, kitchen, or computer she used and made a habit of maintaining too frequently to acquire any dust or filth.

Her brain itched. She needed to do something, but what?

The answer struck her towards evening, after making dinner. 

Playing her guitar always settled her nerves. For years now and likely many more into the future, rocking out proved time and again to be the melatonin to her soul.

Tonight however, she wasn't in a rocking out mood. She wanted something simpler, more down to Earth.

Or more accurately, down to Equus.

Leaned against the wall of her bedroom, beside its electric brother, was her accoustic guitar. She snatched it up, found a comfortable spot next to the window, and settled in. Closing her eyes, with the sun dipping below the horizon outside, she felt for the strings. Such delicate things they were, and what beautiful sounds they made.

She didn't think about what she wanted to play. She just played it. Fingers plucked, strumming the notes to create what started formless, aimless. But before long it gained a form, something buried in her subconscious - a song she hadn't thought of in quite some time.

It took until she was halfway through before she realized what she was playing.

When she did, she stopped. It wasn't a song from Earth.

She opened her eyes, and set the instrument aside.

She knew what she had to do now.

Standing, she searched for the journal linked to Twilight. She flipped it open to the most recent blank page, and clicked the ballpoint of her pen. It shook in her grip, barely perceptible to any but Sunset.

She pressed the tip to the page, and began to write. 





A week later, Sunset stood at the front lot of CHS. Beneath her arm she cradled her old leather jacket, an article of clothing she'd possessed since first stepping through the mirror.

The sky glowed a murky, grayish blue. The crack of dawn trapped the celestial bodies in a strange purgatory, too early for the sun to rise or the moon to disappear.

No students milled about, and none would for another hour. It was a strange feeling for Sunset, knowing she was not one of them anymore. She wondered how many years might go by before the only people in that building to recognize her would be the staff.

It was not the first time she'd asked that question.

After all, Canterlot High was not the only school she'd attended.

She touched the statue's base, and reflected it would no longer be a suitable point for travel. It never had been, but now?

It had to be moved. That was clear. How she and Twilight might go about accomplishing such a task Sunset hadn't the slightest clue, but that was a discussion for later.

Before stepping through, she went down the checklist in her head. 

Ray was with Fluttershy. Rainbow had her motorcycle. Applejack had her guitars. Twilight had the keys to her apartment, and the girls would pair up on the weekends to check it hadn't been broken into.

Quitting her job hadn't been quite so easy. She had to lie for the reasons she was leaving, but in the end she got the promise of being re-hired on her return. Sunset loathed to be so blatantly false with others, especially nowadays and especially to someone she had an otherwise positive rapport with, but she liked working there and wanted to keep that avenue open.

Confident that was everything, she drank the morning breeze. Its chill settled in her lungs, and its wind whispered through her autumn hair.

This was it. For one whole month, she'd be back in Equestria.

As she prepared to take the step forward, something exploded behind her. She whipped around, and saw a billowing cloud of smoke rise up from a nearby bush. A familiar blue-skinned girl stumbled out, coughing.

"Trixie," she said, matter of fact. The look of deadpan judgement must have been a powerful one, for the wannabe magician withered under her gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"Trixie should be asking you the same thing."

Sunset rolled her eyes. "I'm not really in the mood for games right now, Trix. Answer the question. Why are you here, and what do you want? Are you trying to stop me or something?"

"Not exactly. You told everyone you were leaving for a month, but you never said why."

"Didn't think I had to."

"No, you're correct. It's not fair of me to pry, but-" Trixie chewed her lower lip. "Something has been bothering you, Sunset. I can tell."

That gave Sunset pause. Trixie almost never used first names.

"I think everyone else just believes you're homesick. It's not like they don't have good reason to. You've been away for years, and now that we're done with highschool you have the opportunity to stay for a while, but you've never returned to Equestria for the sake of it. You've always had a purpose."

Folding her arms, Sunset asked, "What makes you believe I have a purpose now?"

"Because you've been weird."

"Weird?"

"Yes, weird! You've been on edge since the year started."

Sunset shrugged. "Maybe I was just worried about some magical bullshit ruining my last year of highschool. That's a pretty reasonable fear to have I think, considering the past."

"See, I thought the same at first, but you only got worse the closer we were to finishing. You're a good liar, Sunset Shimmer, but not good enough to lie to me. The Great and Powerful Trrrrixie sees all!" Trixie gesticulated wildly, thrusting her pointing hand high above.

Sunset half expected another explosion to occur, but none did. "Uh huh," she said, dully.

"Listen, Sunset. Do you remember the conversation we had a couple years ago, the one with that whole Brain Rock thing?"

"Memory Stone."

Trixie waved a hand. "Yeah yeah, Brain Stone, Memory Rock, same difference! My point is this - I thought that conversation we had meant something, or at least I liked to think so. With all my memories erased I had no reason to believe a word you were saying, but somehow I knew you were giving me the honest truth. In that same way I know you're not being honest with me now. You're my friend, Sunset, and I know something's wrong. Just tell me. Please?"

Sunset said nothing for a long moment.

Then, she sighed. "Okay. I'll tell you, but only you. Keep that pretty mouth of yours shut otherwise, got it?"

"Mhmm!" Trixie smiled, miming as though to zip her lips tight.

"So, obviously, CHS wasn't the first place I did some bad shit. Neither was Earth." She turned back to the statue. Lazily, she traced the contours of the stone with her thumb, rubbing it as though it might impart the strength to continue. "There's a whole other life I led on that side of the portal. It's one I never talked to anyone about, not entirely at least. I don't think anybody knows about all of it except me, not even Celestia."

"Principal Celestia? What would you have told her about it?"

Sunset shook her head. "Sorry, my bad. Forgot you didn't know. I meant Princess Celestia, the one in Equestria, not here. She used to be my mentor, before I spat in her face and ditched her for a human ghetto, anyway."

Trixie gaped. "Your Celestia was a princess?"

"In name. Technically an actual monarch, though she doesn't have absolute power. Her, Luna, Twilight, and Cadance too."

Trixie smirked, and Sunset very much did not like the look in her eye. "You'll have to show Trixie around some time."

"Absolutely not."

"Whatever you say, Shimmer! Trixie will see these pony princesses for herself. You cannot stop her! Like, physically, you can't. Not as long as you're over there and I'm over here." She grinned.

"Back to the point! I did wrong by a lot of people here, but I also worked my ass off to show how much I'd changed. I never did that on the other side, and I didn't realize it until recently. That's why I have to go back. I have to make things right. They deserve it as much as anyone. In some cases..." She paused, tensed, swallowed. Her knuckles turned white as the statue, nails bending against the unyielding stone. "In some cases, they deserve more. More than I could ever give them."

Ragged breaths came in, and out.

A hand touched her bare shoulder. She turned, and Trixie squeezed.

There showed no mischief in her smile - only kindness and understanding. She stepped back, placed her hands in her hoodie pocket, and nodded. "Thank you for telling me. I hope it goes well for you, Shimmer. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here. Or there." She winked, grinning. "You never know."

Despite herself, Sunset smiled back. "I'll keep it in mind."

As Trixie's footsteps faded into the distance, Sunset returned to the statue. 

"Now or never," she whispered. 

She took in the smell of Earth one last time...

...and entered.





To the sight of crystal  walls blue and purple, Sunset opened her eyes.

The room was not an unfamiliar one, though she'd seen it but a hooful of times.

Two voices exclaimed in unison. "Sunset!"

"Hey guys." Twilight and Starlight got up from their seets to greet her. Embarrassed, Sunset rubbed the back of her head. "Jeez, did I make you guys wait that long?"

Starlight wavered a hoof in the universal gesture of 'so-so'.

"It wasn't that bad," Twilight said. "We were thinking of going through the portal ourselves before too long though."

Sunset was glad they hadn't.

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Twilight. You were totally freaking out." She glanced Sunset's way, grinning. "She was like, 'Oh no, what if Sunset got hit by a car on her motorcycle?' or 'Oh Starlight, what if somepony mugged her!'"

"I was not!"

"Totally were."

"Well," Sunset interrupted. "I'm here now. Sorry about any worry I might've caused. Something held me up before I could go into the portal."

"Oh?" Twilight inclined her head.

"Nothing much, just a friend saying goodbye to me before I left."

Starlight raised a brow. "Which one? I thought you already said bye to all your friends."

"Nah. There's me and 'the girls', obviously, but I have a couple other friends from CHS who aren't part of the main group. Wallflower Blush and Trixie Lulamoon."

"Oh neat," Starlight snickered. "Looks like both your students ended up being friends with a Trixie, Twilight. Wonder what that says about you."

She jabbed Twilight's side with an elbow. The grimace on the alicorn's snout could have killed Canterlot Castle's gardens.

"Hey," Sunset rebuked. "I'm not anypony's student."

"Okay okay, fine, one of her 'projects', then."

Sunset gave an equine snort, stamping her hoof. "I'm not a project either. She just gave me a second chance and I took it from there myself. She helped us beat back the sirens but that was it."

"Uh huh, totally. You acting so defensive is doing your argument lots of favors."

Sunset glared with the power of a thousand spells.

Behind a lavender wing, Twilight stifled her laughter. "Don't mind her, Sunset. She gets her... tendencies from Trixie. Our Trixie, for the record. But now that the introductions are out of the way, what's that?"

Sunset's eyes followed to where Twilight was pointing. In the teal aura of her magic, she held her jacket. "Oh, huh. I didn't expect that to work."

"Didn't expect what to work?"

"Okay, so." Twirling the jacket around, Sunset began her explanation. "You know how we get clothes when we cross over to the human world, but then, when we cross back over, it disappears? Well, okay, besides that one time when me and the gang dropped into Equestria, and Twilight kept her glasses for some weird reason but not her scrunchie, but that's beside the point. I sorta had this... instinct, and I decided to go through after taking the jacket off, and carried it under my arm instead."

Sunset stood on her hindlegs and pulled the jacket onto herself, then fell back to all fours. Smirking, she tugged at the lapelle, puffing out her chest. "So I guess now I get to wear my jacket around Equestria, too."

"I, for one, think it looks great," said Starlight. "In fact."

Sunset and Twilight gave her a curious look. Then, she leapt forward and entered the portal. Its surface rippled briefly before falling still.

Twilight balked. "What in Celestia's name is she doing?"

"Tartarus if I know. She's your student, not mine."

They needn't wait long for an answer. Starlight stepped through a moment later. Around her floated a star-speckled beanie, teal top, sleeveless jacket, and wrist watch. She donned each of them before beaming.

Sunset grinned back, and offered a hoofbump. Starlight accepted it with a resounding 'clop!'.

Twilight's eye twitched. "Now that we're done messing around - and I hope to Faust this doesn't cause some kind of magical backlash - let's get down to more important matters."

'"Twilight Twilight Twilight," Starlight scolded, shaking her head. "What could be more important than looking good. Imagine what Rarity might say at your so flagrant disregard of fashion."

"You said it, sister." Then, pausing, Sunset deadpanned. "Wait a minute. If you came back with your shirt and your jacket..."

The devious grin on Starlight's face was all either of them needed to see.

Twilight buried her face in a hoof. "You two are unbearable."

Despite the statement, she couldn't hide her own amused smile.

Sunset turned towards her. "Important matters, you were saying."

"Right! There's so much for you to do while you're here. I'll get to show you around the town, have you meet all my friends - I've told them a lot about you, by the way. Oh oh oh! There's this one amazing hay burger joint just a quick trot from the castle and if we go there for breakfast now you get an egg on the burger for free and-"

Sunset held up a hoof. "Twilight."

Twilight had the courtesy to blush. "Sorry, I can get a bit rambley sometimes."

"What she means to say is she can get a bit Twilighty."

Sunset smiled, bowling past Starlight's comment. "You're fine. That's not really the issue, though. As much as I'd love to do all those things, I can't. I wanted to get here early in the morning for a reason. I need to go to Canterlot."

"Canterlot? Why? Has something gone wrong again?"

Sunset frowned. Trixie she felt more comfortable telling because of the separation. With Twilight, she knew the moment she sniffed out anything resembling a friendship problem she'd soon have her pretty purple feathers all over it.

That Sunset did not want. Hers was a path she needed to travel by her own volition.

"Not exactly. It's personal, and I'd rather not get into the nitty gritty."

Twilight nodded, but the disappointment showed clear on her face. Whether that was because her hopes and plans for the vacation had just been ruined, or she'd seen a potential mystery snatched from her hooves, Sunset couldn't say.

"There are two best ways of getting to Canterlot. Which one you prefer depends on what you're looking for. The first and fastest is by pegasus-drawn chariot, but we'd have to wait here while I send the missive, wait for a reply, and then for the chariot to arrive. The train will take more time, but we can get going now, and it's far more comfortable. It's also the more scenic route. The view from the chariot isn't bad either, but that depends on how cloudy the day ends up being."

"I'll take the train, thanks. I'd like to get moving as soon as possible."

"Great! Since you're heading to Canterlot, will you be needing bits for anything?"

"I was hoping Celestia'd have a place in the castle open. Beyond that I didn't intend on spending much, but money never hurts."

Twilight nodded, and in she zapped a purse full of - presumably - bits. Oddly, it made no sound as Twilight levitated it over to Sunset.

"Bag of holding enchantment. It's also specially locked so only certain magical signatures can access it. Here, let me get your matrix encoded..." Twilight concentrated, furrowing her brows and chewing her lip. "There! Try opening it now?"

Sunset did so, then closed it up again.

"That should be everything, then. I suggest we get a move on before the train arrives."

Sunset nodded, before bumping Starlight's flank with her own. "You're coming with," she said. "Us bad girls gotta stick together."





The walk to Ponyville's Central Station was a short one. For Sunset, who'd become accustomed to the urban sprawl of Earth's Canterlot City, it was practically a jog. 

This early in the morning, few souls graced the boarding area. Several benches lay unoccupied, but Sunset and the others took their seat on one.

"I can't get over how small your town is. It's like," Sunset gestured with both hooves, bumping them together. "Teeny."

"Yeah," Twilight agreed. "When Celestia sent me here, I'm not going to lie. There was a part of me that wondered why the Princess of Equestria would send her number one pupil to some random nowhere village in the boonies. It took me a while to adjust, but obviously I learned to love it and I couldn't be happier. It's nice, being able to walk around town, get some groceries, and recognize every single pony you see even if you've never actually spoken to them directly."

"I get that. Makes me curious though what the dimensions of Ponyville are. That was like what, a thirty minute walk?"

"Twenty," said Starlight, tapping her watch. "So about a mile."

"Yeah. Canterlot City is like, eight by nine. The distance we just walked is the time it takes me to visit my favorite coffee shop."

Twilight squeed. "You like coffee?"

"No."

Twilight's wings drooped.

"Heh, sorry to disappoint. No, I'm more of a tea mare myself."

"Hot or cold?" asked Starlight.

"Cold, definitely cold. But I'll tell you what, a mug of steaming green tea with honey first thing in the morning is... mmmm."

Both nodded in agreement.

The roaring chug of a train approached seconds later.

"Aw damn, I just realized I don't have any ID with me."

Twilight quirked her head. "ID? Why would you need an ID to get on a train?"

"Oh. Heh heh... Maybe I've spent a little too much time on Earth. You need an ID for basically everything there."

As the train pulled in, the conductor's ringing voice ended their discussion. "All aboard for Canterlot!"

"Convenient," Sunset muttered.

Twilight shook her head. "Not convenient, just scheduled. The Ponyville Express doesn't go to many places besides Canterlot. Now come on."

She gestured with her wing. Sunset followed behind with Starlight, and in little time they found themselves situated in the train, by the window.

Sunset marveled at how well kept it was. The seats alone were far more comfortable than they had any right to be, soft and plush. If Sunset were feeling tired, she could easily have pictured herself falling asleep on their expansive surface.

There was also the train's exterior. She hadn't registered it as it arrived, but now her mind turned towards its cute, funny design. It had been made to look like a gingerbread train, if she could find any word to describe it - brown walls, pink tops, swirly white decorations that resembled frosting.

She liked it.

More accurately, she'd forgotten how much she missed things like this. Earth was comparitively drab - no magic, no fantasy. While that and the technology it held was fascinating when she'd first arrived, now that she'd lived there for a while..?

Suffice it to say, Sunset forgot how much she missed Equestria.

Perhaps things were different in other, more 'serious' locations like Manehattan and Fillydelphia. She was surprised she even remembered those names. It had been so long.

"You good, Sunset?"

"Huh?"

Turning from the outside view, she blinked at Starlight. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just been a very long time, ya know? I'm going to be back in Equestria for an entire month." Her eyes returned to their previous interest - the thatch roofs and rough paths of the town beyond.

"What's the longest you've been back to Equestria before?"

"Uhm..." Sunset thought. As she did, as Celestia's gleaming golden Sun inched higher into the brightening blue, she recognized a once common sight she'd not seen in years.

A pegasus, with gray coat and blonde mane, flew with an overstuffed saddlebag over her shoulder. She wore a brown cap and uniform, denoting her as a mailmare. She seemed familiar, and Sunset swore she knew a similar looking girl from CHS.

Shaking her head, Sunset answered. "A day, I think. Not even. That was when this girl - good friend of mine now - Wallflower, tried erasing everyone's good memories of me. I came to Equestria because Twilight wasn't affected, and we looked in the Canterlot Archives to figure out what was causing it."

"Woah woah woah, what? Someone tried erasing memories? And you say this girl is your friend now?"

"Yeah. She was... obviously misguided, to say the very least, but I can't blame her. As far as she was concerned I was still the same awful bully I'd been at the beginning of the year, considering that was the same year I turned into a literal, actual demon. Tch," she snorted. "What a stupid plan. If I crossed through with my teenage zombie army I'm sure Celestia would have turned me into ash."

She jolted as the train lurched. Chugging into gear, the outside view moved leftwards, picking up speed by the second.

"I don't think she would have done that," said Twilight. "She cared about you. Cares, I should say. She would probably have found some way to stop you without hurting you, and freed you like me and my friends freed her sister."

"You're probably right."

Twilight laid a wing on Sunset's back. Her shoulders tensed.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunset?"

Sunset laughed. "Honestly? No. I'm nervous. Scared, actually. Not sure why, though. I think I just have the jitters is all."

Twilight nodded, pulling back her wing. She smiled, pointing to the window and said, "On the bright side, you have the view to look forward to."

"Speaking of which. When will we be arriving in Canterlot?"

"Mid-afternoon. Do we need to be there at a specific time?"

"No, just curious."

Silence fell as the train gained steam, and the world beyond passed by faster.

Sunset watched with fixed attention. The sights were not exactly what anyone could call 'unique'. Such landscapes - the rolling green hills, occasional trees, fields of wheat or barley - could be found plenty in the human realm. There was even a similar area not far from Canterlot City itself - Sweet Apple Acres - not to mention Camp Everfree and its surrounding pine woods.

But this wasn't the human realm. This was Equestria. This was the land she'd been born in.

And the land she'd left behind.

The closer to the mountain, the more fields and pastures gave way to rougher terrain. Rocks of increasing size and frequency broke the patches of grass, which themselves grew smaller and sparser. After a few hours, throughout which she and her companions engaged in conversation, only stone marked the landscape, capped by the occasional snowdrift or barren hedge.

"And would you believe it, the nerve of this chick? Like, holy Tartarus, dude. One spilled drink, and she goes full Equestrian magic demon on the whole restaurant!"

"Sounds to me like you guys deal with a lot more threats than you give yourselves credit for," Twilight said.

"Eh, I guess. But at the same time, our threats are generally at the local level. You fought a mountain-sized centaur with lasers who, himself, shot beams of fire that vaporized entire acres of forest. We've never faced anything close to that."

"Don't forget me!" added Starlight. "I basically brainwashed an entire town - though admittedly a town half the size of Ponyville, if that - and stole everypony's cutie marks. Then, in a fit of jealous rage at being defeated, went back in time and borked the continuum so hard the future we wound up in was a blasted ashen hellscape."

"You sound... strangely proud of that fact."

"Come on, you're telling me you wouldn't? Nopony in the entire history of Equestria managed to accomplish anything close to that."

Sunset snorted. "Okay, fair. It is pretty impressive."

"I'd be willing to bet," Twilight pondered. "Were I not an alicorn, this train carriage would be home to the three most powerful unicorns in the nation."

They laughed.

"Doubt it though," said Sunset. "It's been years since I've done any real magic. Manipulation and teleportation is one thing. Spells and incantations are another."

Sunset's mind turned towards the geodes she and her friends had back at home. She tried not to, acknowledging hers was as special as the rest, but the fact Twilight's powers so closely matched the ones she used to wield made her jealous.

"Maybe you could try practicing?" Starlight suggested. "See how rusty or not rusty your skills have gotten. You were Celestia's prized student at one point, I can't imagine it'd be hard to re-learn."

"Maybe. But I'm also not exactly sure what the point would be in that. I have every intention of staying on Earth. It's where my job is, my own place, all my best friends-"

Starlight placed a hoof to her heart. "Sunset. You wound me."

Sunset smirked, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean, stupid."

"Now arriving at Canterlot Eastern Station. Next stop - the Crystal Empire."

"Time to go," said Twilight, climbing down from her seat.

Stepping off the train, they were treated to a vastly different climate than the one in Ponyville. Starlight shivered between them, but she and Twilight breathed in with large smiles, reminiscing.

"Ahhh. Crisp Mount Canter air. How I missed you."

"No kidding!" Twilight laughed. "Be glad you don't have to experience Ponyville summers."

Starlight shivered. "Y-you two are are insane. I'm just glad the palace has air conditioning."

"Air conditioning?" asked Sunset.

"Yeah, you know - air conditioning spells. To moderate the temperature?"

"Oh, right. Definitely didn't forget about those being a thing that exist."

Sunset fell quiet as they began to walk, prefering to take in the sights of her old city.

Canterlot's train station was significantly larger than Ponyville's, despite being an eastern side entrance. She noted multiple trains coming and going, vast pastel throngs of ponies and other creatures clamoring to get on or off. Things had become more multicultural since her departure, it seemed. While the area she'd grown up in had always been more welcoming to non-ponies, that grace had evidently extended beyond.

Up ahead, the skyline rose high, piercing through the clouds. Canterlot, beyond having been built onto the side of Equestria's second tallest mountain, was not a normal city.

According to history class, it began as a rich trading settlement. Unicorns and other ponies of marked power moved their fortunes up into the mountain, where they could hoard and protect them from the common masses. The symbolism of the location was obvious. It provided those of means and influence a throne to look down upon the rest of society, those they saw as lesser.

Things had changed since then, though not by much.

After the destruction of Equestria's first capital, now claimed by the Everfree Forest, Princess Celestia relocated her ponies to the town. Those already present kicked up quite the fuss at the influx of commoners, but in those days Celestia's rule was absolute. For every noble that left, three more from other cities would take their place, and Celestia made certain such creeping biases did not worm their way into the city's heart like in the past.

From there, with little space to spread out, it grew upwards. Generations passed, and the city divided itself into four distinct tiers.

The first and lowest was Old Canterlot, where the original settlement was founded. Where coin-clinking merchants, finely dressed noblemares, and influential bankers once rubbed flanks, the poorest and downtrodden of Equestria gathered. The streets were narrow, everything built from rough, worn stone and bricks. It was also where the thestrals called home, looked down upon or shunned by others. Any in that area who had wealth remained for reasons of heritage, nothing more.

The tier above developed into a place for the middle class. It was the largest of the tiers, and correlatively the most populous. Most businesses, restaurants, and shops could be found there.

The third had been claimed by the upper crust. Here, many ancestors of the original settlers, or those younger upstarts who found themselves swimming in great coinage, lived. Whatever space wasn't taken up by massive mansions and vacation homes was occupied by gardens, museums, and galleries. They said the streets were paved with jewels, but in reality, they were simply colorful stones, as Sunset had once seen.

Last and smallest was the Royal tier, exclusively constructed for Princess Celestia and those who surrounded her. It was also the location of the Equestrian military and the Royal Guard's barracks.

Sunset grew up in the first tier.

When she was younger, she thought she'd die in the first tier.

Today she would see none of those levels but the fourth. Twilight guided her and Starlight through the city, taking shortcuts and vast white marble staircases winding and curling up higher and higher. Soon, the spiraling towers of ivory, gold, and lavender stones were beneath them, stabbing up sharp as needles, opulent as the crown's royal coffers.

They stopped. Before them stretched a fortified wall and latticed gate, flanked by two spear-wielding guardsponies. At the sight of Twilight Sparkle they uncrossed their weapons and drew up the portcullis.

Once through, they entered the main castle grounds. The familiarity of them haunted her. While she might not have called the time she spent here the absolute darkest point in her life, it was without question one of the darker.

Before she could dwell on her past, they reached the palace. Guards were stationed at every corner. Velvet carpets stretched from end to end, while marble polished to reflection shone everywhere else. This too was familiar - the stained glass depictions of Twilight and her friends' feats less so.

Twilight led the way. Pushing past two grand oaken doors, their timing proved impeccable. Journalists, politicians, aides, and spectators trickled out the main entrance, signalling an end to Day Court.

Celestia herself put quill to parchment. Her secretary, a mare named Raven Inkwell that Sunset recognized from fillyhood, stood beside her.

Twilight cleared her throat and announced, "Princess Celestia."

The alicorn's gentle gaze flicked upwards. At the sound of the voice, she smiled.

Her eyes widened when she noticed Sunset.

"What a lovely and unexpected surprise. Raven? Take this letter to my chambers. I'll finish it later."

"Of course, Your Grace." Raven bowed, and left them.

Glowing, Celestia stepped down from her seat at the podium. It was one of the few times Sunset had seen her there. She'd never been allowed to attend court or government sessions back in the day, thanks to her combative nature, and unkindly opinions of parliament's population.

Tall and majestic, Celestia fanned her dove-like wings, and pulled her and Twilight into a warm embrace.

"Hey, what about me?"

Celestia released them, turning to Starlight and bowed. "Of course, I did not forget you, Starlight Glimmer. But surely you must understand my former students are the most precious to me. Sunset in particular I so very rarely get the opportunity to meet."

"Of course. Just teasing, Princess."

Celestia's attention then fell upon Sunset.

"Sunset Shimmer," she said. "How long has it been?"

"About a year, I think. I..." She swallowed, forcing down the sudden lump in her throat. "Thank you."

"What ever for?"

She rubbed her fetlocks. "For attending my graduation, you and Twilight. It's difficult to express how much that meant to me, I'm sorry."

"Do not feel any obligation to apologize, or for gratitude, my dear Sunset." Her voice flowed gentle like silk, feathers touching and lifting Sunset's chin. "After what you have been through, after what you have become, it would have been unthinkable for me not to attend. In the absence of my guidance, you deserved that much, at least."

"Right." Sunset flushed. "In any case, I'm returning here for a month. I was wondering if I might be able to stay in the palace in that time."

"You lived here once, and you may do so again. Is there a particular reason that has drawn you home, might I ask? You have never returned for such an extensive length."

"Personal reasons. Without going into detail, there are ponies I'd like to make amends with."

Celestia nodded. In her eyes shone the light of understanding.

She knew.

"If that is what you deem best."

"It is, Princess."

"Well then." Her chin rose. "You three are my guests, and though it is only the afternoon eventide is not far. If you would like, we shall dine early."

All three of their stomachs roared.

Twilight averted her gaze, abashed, and nodded. "We haven't eaten anything since this morning."

Wonderful! Ahem, not that you're hungry, of course, simply that this works out rather perfectly. Follow me, now."

They did so, and shortly found themselves in a dining hall. 

The room wasn't large, certainly not for a grand palace such as this. Sunset knew the reason why, however. It was not the main banquet hall, but the one Celestia chose to eat in with close company, or alone. On some occasions, she had come here to sup, lunch, or break fast with the Princess herself.

They took their seats, and Celestia summoned one of her chefs. She told him to cook whatever he liked, before turning to each of them and asking if there was a particular dish they might like served.

Twilight put in for a simple daisy sandwich. From personal experience, Sunset knew that Celestia's royal chefs didn't really do 'simple', but they would if requested.

The chef's feelings on the matter showed plain on his face, but he bowed and wrote it down with respect.

Neither Sunset nor Starlight thought up of much. They had agreed they were happy to gobble just about anything at that point, and being surprised was more fun anyway.

While they waited, the four of them conversed. Celestia was of course curious how Sunset and her friends were doing. She explained they were well, about the party, and the drunk shenanigans they had gotten up to. Twilight and Celestia both appeared particularly curious as Sunset described Twilight's alternate self from the human world.

Partway through Sunset explaining her job as a sushi bar waitress, the first entrees arrived. Starlight ate first without so much as a second thought, chowing down on nut-filled lettuce cups sauteed in soy sauce.

The overall dinner spread was sizeable, though reasonably fit for their party. There came mushrooms and peppers steamed in garlicy lemon butter, hay bacon carbonara sprinkled with thyme and basil, savory potato carrot pie, a spicy bean stew, fried hay balls smothered in melty cheese, and fruit-topped crème brulée with red velvet cake for dessert.

Sunset was glad for the change of pace, a far cry from the ultra-processed food of the human world.

They had come in starving, and by the time they left their bellies were fat. If Sunset were on Earth, she'd have let her belt loose.

In the red-gold light of early evening, Celestia led them through the various hallways. Sunset walked along her side, Starlight to her right, and Twilight at Celestia's left.

"These shall be your chambers for the month," she said, halting at a double door. Throwing it open with her magic, she revealed the room.

Its walls were flush with paintings, flowers, lanterns, and other decor. At the far right end was a wardrobe, next to it a writing desk with candles and all the materials required for writing. Towards the left was an open balcony overlooking a steep cliffside, a lush valley of green grass and blue deltas spanning the horizon.

Near that was one bed, and some distance away a second. Between them was a shared dresser, complete with lamp and various books.

It put into perspective how low Sunset had fallen. This room could beat a five star hotel, let alone her cramped, crumby apartment.

"Thank you, Princess. I appreciate this very much."

"Think nothing of it. Now," she yawned, putting a hoof to her mouth. "I have a few last things which need attending to, and sleep will come shortly. I have to wake up very early after all." She winked.

Twilight concurred. "Honestly, I should get going too. There's supposed to be a meeting tomorrow for the reconstruction of Golden Oaks Library, and I'll need all the rest I can get if I want to organize the team."

Sunset nodded. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Starlight?" Twilight asked. "Will you be coming with me?"

Starlight paused, then answered, "No, actually. I'll stay here I think. If that's okay with you, Sunset? Living by yourself for a month sounds pretty miserable."

Sunset laughed. "I've lived on my own for a lot longer than one month, but sure. Company's not terrible."

In truth, Sunset had wanted to say no. But she didn't.

Why?

Starlight smiled, Twilight nodded, and Celestia seemed unbothered by the development.

It was too late for Sunset to change her mind. If she said no now, there would be questions - ones she did not want to answer, or would not be able to.

Twilight said her goodbyes, pulled her into a hug, and left with Celestia.

"So," Starlight drawled. "Any fun plans for the night?"

"Not really," said Sunset, turning inside. Her horn glowed, and she brought the array of books before her, reading each title. She selected the one that read 'Equestria at War: History of the North March'. "I'll read, go to bed, and start looking around tomorrow morning."

"Look around for what?"

"Somepony," she said.

"Come oooooon, Sunset. Somepony who? What are you really here for? You're being crazy evasive."

"Can ponies just stop fucking asking already? I'm getting really sick of it!"

Cursing, she slammed the books down on the floor. Quiet ate the space between them until, panting, Sunset came down from her high.

"Sorry, I'll quit asking."

Sunset sighed. The embers of her initial burst of rage went cold, leaving her embarrassed and ashamed. One by one, she plucked each tossed cover from the ground and slid them back into place.

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry for getting angry. It's just... very personal, okay? Some stuff from my past, loose ends I want to tie up." She breathed in. "Things I broke I'm hoping I can fix."

"I think I understand what you mean. I-" She chewed on her lower lip, pointedly avoiding Sunset's gaze. "I think I actually understand completely."

Sunset nodded.

Wordless, she slipped under the covers, opened the book, and read.
> Chapter 4: Seasons Change
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a vacant expression, Sunset stared ahead. On the blackboard, her alchemy teacher Misses Bubbling Brew went over the steps for various formulae.

She already knew all of them.

Chin atop her folded hooves, Sunset wondered what the point was in having 'Review Day'. She already remembered everything.

The first test of the year arrived tomorrow, and Misses Brew insisted 'it was important for everypony to have a refresher'. Sunset thought, if ponies couldn't remember, that was their fault. Let them fail if they couldn't meet the standard.

Eventually, her eyes glazed over, and she quit listening altogether. She flipped to the back of her notebook, where no one would think to check.

Scrawled on the pages were innumerable doodles, some more detailed, some less so. They'd been done in everything from pen to pencil and crayon, but no marker. She didn't want it bleeding through the paper.

Chewing on the eraser end of a pencil, she thought about what to draw. That was always the hardest part. Sometimes the idea would spring into being without effort. Other times...

"Excuse me. What do you have there?"

Sunset's head shot up, and she slammed the notebook shut. "N-nothing!" she said, wide-eyed.

Misses Brew loomed above her, deep purple face pinched into a scolding frown.

"Open that notebook, please."

Yhe please was nothing more than a courtesy. Her tone allowed no defiance, not if Sunset was a smart filly, anyway.

Reluctantly, she did so. Nothing good ever came of lying to adult. They always seemed to find out, one way or another.

"No, not there. The page you were on before."

Sunset swallowed, obeyed.

Frown lines deepend the mare's scowl, lime eyes narrowing.

"Pray tell, could you explain what this-" She gestured at the sketch-riddled page. "-is?"

"M-my drawings, Misses Brew."

"I see." She closed the book and held Sunset's gaze. "Does this look like art class to you, Miss Sunset Shimmer? Or are we in alchemy class?"

Sunset's head fell, avoiding her teacher's gaze. "Alchemy class, Misses Brew."

"Correct. I know you may not think so, but Review Day is important to some ponies that aren't necessarily you."

Sunset flared. "It's not my fault I already know everything!" she said. "I was just gonna draw, that won't distract anypony!"

"Tell you what, then." Brew sang, smiling in a way that sat ill with Sunset. "If you believe you're so prepared, you shouldn't mind demonstrating to the class. Come now, come, right up here!"

Notebook abandoned, Sunset stood and held her head high. She marched to the front with purpose and awaited her instructions. She could sense the eyes of her classmates on her, but brushed them aside.

From the populous shelves, Misses Brew took down a wide array of bottles, tubes, beakers, and reagents. She spread them across an empty workbench, and pointed Sunset in its direction.

"You should remember how to make a temporary potion of invisibility, yes?"

Sunset hated that smug, self-assured smirk. She swore to see it gone by the time class was over.

Because she was Sunset.

Because she was smart.

Because she was better.

Without comment, she nodded and walked to the table. Surveying the materials, she found her teacher hadn't spared one ingredient.

Invisibility was the most complex potion they'd learned thus far. Her teacher set her up to fail.

If Misses Brew thought that would dissuade her, she was sorely mistaken.

One by one, Sunset organized her materials. She set out a Bunsen burner, mortar, pestle, and three separate phials.

Last came the reagents. She needed Blinkroot, two caps of Ghost's Eye Fungus, three de-seeded Wraithcorns, and half a cup of minced Breathberry.

Or she was pretty sure that's what she needed. She hoped she hadn't missed one.

First the berries had to be boiled, and after strained through a fine mesh sive. Next she burnt the Blinkroot, de-seeded the Wraithcorns, and de-gilled the mushroom caps. All that she threw into the mortar, and mashed it with her pestle, pounding and grinding until it formed a chunky, deep blue paste.

She scraped the paste into a flask, then poured ice cold water over the contents. As the separated mixture fizzed, she began to stir. Once it became homogenous, she stopped. For several seconds the foul-smelling liquid belched and burbled, forming pearlescent bubbles that popped and stank of long-rotting fruit.

Finally, it settled into a transparent cyan liquid. She brought the bottle to her nose and sniffed.

It smelled of nothing.

Slowly, Misses Brew clapped.

Pride swelled in Sunset's chest, a smirk playing at her lips. She'd done it. She'd won.

"Impressive," said Misses Brew. She came to stand by Sunset and observed her work. "But it would have been more impressive if you'd made the correct potion."

Sunset's stomach dropped. "Wha- huh? But I did everything right!"

"Not quite." Beaming, the mare plucked a bunch of basil from the table's edge, and dropped it into the liquid. It steamed briefly, then dissolved. "I asked you to make me a temporary invisibility potion - not an indefinite one. Now go sit down, and pay attention, or I'll rip those pages out of your notebook."

Something inside Sunset broiled. Like the fizzling potion, it rose, higher and angrier, until she couldn't hold herself back.

She snatched the potion up, and threw it on her teacher's face.





Sunset hated school.

She hated the schoolwork. She hated the students. She hated the teachers.

She really, really hated the teachers.

Sitting in detention, she was even more bored out of her mind than if she'd have listened to the lecture. Screaming at Misses Brew was, admittedly, maybe not the smartest decision she'd made in her life.

Nor was throwing a potion right in the mare's face.

Save two things: seeing Misses Brew turning invisible from the neck up, and hearing the class's roar of laughter. Those made her punishment somewhat worth the trouble.

Either way, Sunset found the whole ordeal to be greatly unfair. So what if she made an indefinite potion? She got every other ingredient, every other step perfectly correct. It would be like giving her an F on her math exam because her answer had been one digit off, not even.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Fuming, she squirmed in her seat. The ceaseless 'tick, tock, tick, tock' of the clock above drove her mad.

She had to get revenge, but how? It was too close to her incident with Misses Brew. If she tried pulling something on the alchemist she'd be pinned down for sure. Nopony but her could so easily recite the recipe for an invisibility potion.

Maybe she could target someone else, someone who wouldn't suspect a thing - someone that wronged her.

A wicked smile split her lips.

Tinsel.

It was the perfect crime. They only took math class together. She had no clue Sunset knew how to make potions, and with the power of invisibility at her disposal, her imagination was the limit.

Take that, Misses Ugly Ew. Looks like your detention plan backfired. Now she just had to figure out the details of her scheme.

But first, she had to gather the right materials.

On her way home, late in the afternoon, she paid close attention to the buildings around her. She took stock of the various shops and stores, settling on the ones focused on alchemy or magic broadly. The nicer they looked, the quicker she turned away. She could never get the bits to afford those places.

Orange and pink hues kissed on the horizon. Against the worn, dark gray slate and granite and cobble of Old Canterlot, their vibrancy seemed dull.

When she tilted her head up and to the north, cracked bricks and rough stone gave way to marble and gold. Towers, spires, and lovely homes embraced the eventide, graced by wealth and modern aesthetics. Those tiers weren't made for ponies like her.

She hated them.

Why did they get to have things so much better? Because they weren't born an orphan in stupid, ugly Old Canterlot?

Every now and again, she wondered how different things might be if she knew her parents. She could live up there, with a mom and dad who loved her. Maybe she'd even have a real friend.

Instead, she'd been left down here, to wallow.

Matron Swan stood waiting for her at the orphanage front doors, a look of stern disapproval on her face.

That was fine. Sunset expected it.

Swan tracked her approach. "Sunset Shimmer," she said.

Sunset waited. When no further words left Swan's lips, she spoke. "Yes, Matron? What is it?"

"I think you know exactly what 'it'  is." The mare frowned, sat on her haunches, and rubbed at her wrinkled face. She pat the stair ledge beside her. Sunset took it. "Why do you keep getting yourself in trouble like this? If you had any idea the number of suspension threats I've had to defend you from, girl - maybe you'd act more appropriately."

Sunset flushed. "I didn't mean to get angry, but Misses Brew was being a big dumb jerk!"

"Sunset Shimmer."

Her ears folded. "Sorry, ma'am."

"Regardless of how mean she was or was not being, that does not give you the right to yell and assault somepony. And make no mistake, assault is precisely what you did. You may not have meant to hurt her, but splashing a potion - any potion - on someone is the kind of offense that can lend a pony prison time. You're lucky all it did was turn her face invisible."

"But she was-"

"no buts! This is final, Sunset. Shape up your act, for my sake if no one else's. Tonight, I want you to write your teacher an apology, and hoof-deliver it to her tomorrow. Do you understand."

"Yes, Matron Swan."

"Good, now let's head inside. You're very late."

"Wait!" Sunset stood up, holding out a hoof. Matron Swan turned her head. "There are some things I need for alchemy class."

"Go on."

Sunset breathed in. First step of her plan - engage. "S-since I got the potion wrong, she says I have to practice making it on my own at home. Can we go to a shop later for what I need? Please?"

"Mph. Alright. Tomorrow though; I don't have time right now, and dinner is getting cold. Unfortunate too, I know how you like your gumbo hot and spicy."

Sunset beamed, hopping up the stairs. That had proven surprisingly easy. It was all uphill from here.

Gumbo for dinner was a nice bonus, too.

She felt confident it would all work out. She had to play it smart, but that was easy for her, because she was a smart pony. Today might not have gone the best, but tomorrow gave her another crack at the whip. Set this day aside, and weave tomorrow anew - the way she wanted it.

And she did.

That weekend, Sunset called up the memory of the potion and magic shops she'd noted. It wasn't a short list, but she and Matron Swan found the necessary materials after two. They returned after a few hours with an overjoyed Sunset, and saddlebags noisy with bottles and reagents.

It took more convincing for Matron Swan to relinquish control over the kitchen. Sunset asked how she was supposed to brew a potion that demanded boiled, strained Breathberries and cleaned, de-gilled mushroom caps without the proper equipment. Swan argued the cooks could do that for her.

Sunset vehemently disagreed, in the whineful sort of pitch that cracked wine glasses.

Swan relented, though not immediately.

It took a few hours of persistent begging, teleporting next to her throughout the day, but she relented. And so Sunset spent the weekend locked in the kitchen, whenever the cooks weren't busy.

By Monday, she had a small stash of invisibility pots. By the following weekend, she'd squireled away enough supply to last a month. 

She didn't require nearly so much as that for her goals, but Sunset was a forward-thinking filly. She could never know when she might need to bust one out again.

In that time, she also acquired the singular item her prank relied upon. Dousing it in invisibility ink was simple enough. To be certain of her plan she experimented with it, seeing how long the 'indefinite' potion of invisibility would actually last, and how to clean it off. Water proved sufficient for clearing it away, no spells or tonics needed.

Throughout her endeavors, Sunset behaved at school - no butting heads with teachers, no fights with bullies when she could teleport away, no mouthing off or getting distracted. 

For that, Matron Swan was thankful.

Sunset's teachers, on the other hoof, were suspicious. But when weeks passed with nothing but good behavior, they learned to accept it, believing she'd made a turn for the better. Or, as she put it, more boring.

On an otherwise ordinary school day, she set the trap. Early for her first class of the morning - math with Mister Cosine - nopony but her teacher was around.

Focused on sifting through and grading tests, he acknowledged her arrival with the barest grunt. Him distracted, and with an invisible object in hoof, her path could not have been more clear. She passed by her desk, slipped the object over Tinsel's seat, and took her place.

Colts and fillies shuffled in after her, one by one, or in groups. To Sunset's fortune, the class' majority settled in before Tinsel's entrance.

Mister Cosine stood, sheathing the papers away, and cleared his throat as Tinsel sat down.

The resounding, unmistakeable sound of a wet fart ripped through the room.

Tinsel made a shrieking kind of sound, shooting up from her desk. She looked down to her seat, but found nothing there.

As Sunset predicted, quiet murmurs of amusement popped up in the crowd. Those turned into giggling, which became chuckling, until over half the student body was in an uproar.

Tinsel blushed, pupils the size of pins. She screeched that it wasn't her, but nopony cared. Mister Cosine's bemusement and attempts to sate the roaring room fell flat.

Nothing left but to wait it out, Tinsel sat down again.

A second plarp echoed loud. The laughter doubled.

Sunset let them have their fun. Hers was a more refined amusement, one of smugness and self-satisfaction. She allowed herself a grin, snicker there and no more.

Tinsel noticed.

Her expression narrowed. Eyes of silver-flecked gold glared towards her with malicious intent.

Sunset met her with equal amounts of smarm.

Beneath the din, Tinsel drew a hoof across her neck and hissed the words:

"This. Isn't. Over."





Returning home that day, Sunset rode high on her victory.

Nothing could ruin this for her. 

Tinsel's threats of future retaliation concerned her not in the least. If they did come to fruition, she'd be ready for it then. She saw no point in worrying over the matter now, when there was nothing she could do about it. Now was time better spent reveling in her unquestionable conquest.

Sunset turned a corner, the one with the old brick alley and flickering oil streetlamp. Beyond lay the orphanage, and an opportunity to relax and stew over the pranks to come.

At the steps' base, Matron Swan waited.

Quick as her ego was high, Sunset's glee soured.

A million questions ran through her head. Had Tinsel figured it out? Did she bring the whoopee cushion to Cosine? Investigate, speak with Brew, have it traced back to her?

But, no. Sunset blinked, and noticed the older mare's expression for the first time.

Her smile, slight though it was, pushed upon kind blueberry eyes.

Sunset trotted near, head cocked. "Hi, Matron Swan," she said.

"Good afternoon, sweetling. Some unforeseen changes have transpired while you were gone. Follow me?"

She turned, and held out her left wing. Sunset slid beneath the canopy cover, reveling in the warmth of Swan's downy feathers, but curiosity gnawed at her insides. In the span of moments a million questions were cast aside to push forth a million more"

"We have a new orphan today, a bit older than you," Swan explained. As she pushed open the double doors, her smile turned down. "How she came to us was not so pleasant, however. I'd warn you severely against mentioning or asking about her parents."

Sunset nodded.

"She is a thestral. Do you know what those are?"

Sunset shook her head.

"In more common parlance, they are known as bat ponies. They are rare, and make up a very small segment of Equestria's equine population. Likewise, they often keep to themselves, not that they could be blamed. Equestria is a better place than what it used to be, but biases and unfounded fears run deep. So if you see anypony making fun of or being unkind towards her, let me know."

"Okay."

Sunset's attention flicked to the wal. From it hung a recreated painting of Bran Oat's Starlit Eve. Sat beneath was a small, antique wooden table, housing a cracked porcelain vase filled with flowers.

She traced the swirling lines of the painting, and the rim of the withering flower petals, hoping they might impart some arcane understanding. Sunset was confused. Why was she being told all this? For what purpose? She'd never been told about the arrival of a new orphan, and it wasn't like she was known for being the responsible or ponyable type either.

Appearing to sense her questions, Matron Swan halted, but kept the wing over her back. "I'm telling you this, Sunset, because she will be bunking in your room for the time being."

"What?!"

Sunset retreated, mouth agape.

Swan sighed. "It's only for now, sweetling. I know you prefer your privacy. She came here just today, and we need to sort out living arrangements and papers for her first. That usually takes a week. Oh come now, don't give me that look. Did you know I kept you in my office days after you came here? Oh yes, and let me tell you, I was the one who had to change your diapers."

"Ewwww, stoooop! I get it, I get it!"

"And you were a very stinky filly."

"Matrooooon!"

Swan cracked a grin, weary on her weathered face.

Sunset harumphed, stomping a hoof.

"I'll quit now. Just behave for me, okay? She's very upset and sensitive at the moment. I'm not asking you to be her friend, but I am asking you to make her stay as pleasant as possible until she gets her own room. Believe me, I considered other options for where to place her or who with, but for whatever reason I trust you the most. Please prove to me that trust was not unfounded."

Sunset huffed, but nodded. "Okay."

"Thank you. She's in your room right now, reading I believe. Let's go get you two acquainted, hm?"

Up to the room - no longer hers - Sunset dragged her hooves. That was her space, for her and her alone.

But she didn't want to disappoint Matron Swan. Sunset recognized she wasn't like other fillies, not nice and well-behaved. She tried - she really, really did - but it was hard. But if this meant making the old mare happy, she'd do her best.

Stopping at the door, Swan rapped a hoof against it. "Moonstone, it's me, Swan! I've brought your bedmate with me." She waited, received no response. "I'm coming in now."

Matron Swan's tail provided ample cover to tuck herself behind. Sunset also used her own hair fringe to conceal her face, some foalish part of her hoping she could avoid the interaction if she did so.

"Come now, Sunset, don't be a silly filly."

Flicking her tail, Swan pushed Sunset forward with a hind leg.

"Uhm, hi," she said.

"Hi."

The filly was indeed unlike any Sunset had seen before. She had heard of thestrals, but never seen one nor known what they were.

For some reason, Sunset expected they'd be a lot darker. Maybe they were, and this Moonstone filly was the exception.

But the name fit her. Aside from the larger, fluffed, pointed ears, bat wings, slit pupils, and teeny fangs, her bright appearance did not in any way signal to Sunset 'different' or 'strange'. The aspects that did, she thought were cool.

Her coat, a light and green-kissed blue, glimmered like opals in the afternoon rays, seeming to shift colors at every head turn. She boasted a similar mane and tail, white and almost but not quite white running in parallel streaks, straight and feathered at the edge. The hair covered most of her left eye, leaving the other to shine with the same color as Sunset's - a deep and tropical blue.

Back to a pillow, she sat on a mattress some ways off beside Sunset's bed. A book with a tarnished purple cover lay splayed in her lap, exposing faded yellow pages.

Sunset twigged onto the title.

Perking up, she gave her sincerest attempt at a smile. "Is that Poetry of Dragons by Amber Flame?"

"Uh huh."

"I love that book!"

"Mhm."

Sunset's smile waned. She looked to Matron Swan, hoping to find answers in those aged, wisened eyes.

The pegasus pulled her close and leaned down, whispering, "Remember, she lost her parents very recently. Don't take it personally. Just be kind to her."

Sunset nodded. She could handle that. This would last only a week. Afterwards, things would return to normal.

The next few days passed by without incident. It helped that Moonstone - or as Sunset learned, Moonstone Gloom - kept to herself through much of that period.

When she did venture out, it was never for long. The eyes of her fellow orphans trailed after her, some in curiosity at the new, strange arrival.

Those less curious, the ones that had already made up their minds, were the ones that concerned Sunset and drove Gloom into hiding. Actions beyond fertive glances and hushed tones never transpired, but one got the distinct feeling of mistrust. Even when foals came to meet her in good faith, many others glared with suspicion from the background.

Sunset didn't understand it. Sure, Gloom looked a little weird, but so what? She was just a pony like anyone else.

But to an extent, she did understand. Her reputation earned similar results. Gloom just happened to gain that ill repute by the mere fact of her presence, rather than a trail of misdeeds or outbursts like Sunset.

Upon the week's end, Matron Swan approached her and Gloom, announcing the documents had been sorted. Moonstone would be moved into a separate bunk of her own.

Sunset was glad, and guilty that she felt so. Gloom wasn't by any means poor company, but Sunset considered her room her territory. Others incurring upon it did not gain her favor.

Sunset offered a hoof regardless. If the filly wanted to come by and hang out, she could do so.

They parted on amicable terms. From there, Sunset saw her in the halls like the other orphans, interacting briefly or not at all.

She remained secluded at first. While she'd stayed with Sunset, she'd noticed the filly enjoyed reading as much as she did, if not more so. Sunset had woken up many times in the middle of the night to find her snout tuckd square between two pages, no light for seeing required.

Sunset had to admit that was pretty cool, and considered looking up recipes for a night vision potion in the future.

Weeks went by, and day by day Gloom grew more sociable. She spoke in quiet tones, turning her visible eye from those she talked to, but that she talked at all made Sunset happy.

This had the unfortunate side effect of drawing attention, not all of which positive. Matrons ensured the prevention of hoofticuffs, but sneering insults under breath or rumors spread were harder to tackle.

Sunset was smart enough to know stepping in directly was a poor decision. Instead, she worked from the shadows. Should she witness any wrongdoing against Moonstone, she'd be certain to dip a few pushpins in her invisbility potions, and glue them to the bully's seat of preference. They'd shriek, and before anypony noticed she'd rip the tacks away with telekinesis. No one was the wiser.

She spared no quarter to liars, either. To start she'd investigate, going down the line to discover the origin points for nasty rumors, dispelling them to her best ability along the way. When she reached the source, she either gave them the push pin treatment, or maybe scrawled a few lying words of her own on scraps of paper and bathroom walls around the orphanage.

By November, the foals treated Moonstone like any other orphan.

Sunset didn't understand the lengths she'd gone to for Moonstone's sake. Maybe it was a kind of kinship, not wanting her to feel like Sunset often did. Maybe she just thought it was unfair Gloom was given a bad rep for no reason than her being a thestral. Either way, Sunset prided herself in protecting the filly, all without raising a hoof or, more importantly, revealing herself.

Throughout the months, life went on like normal. School came and went. Day turned to night, night into day. The colorful leaves of autumn gradually turned brown and crisp, then fell to feed the ground as winter announced its arrival. Winters always came early in Canterlot, something which Sunset didn't mind as it meant early hot cocoa.

At school, Tinsel and co. continued to provoke and corner her, but Sunset learned she was better off teleporting away than fighting back. She did want to, though. If she knew she could get a good lick in without calling trouble, she'd do it in a wink.

Then, on one chilly November morning, everything changed.

Her saddlebag hung from her shoulder, overflowing with weighty books and disordered assignmentts. She braced herself against the door, about to bump it open with her blank flank when Matron Piper approached, Gloom in tow.

"Hello, Sunny!" the mare, green-maned and yellow-furred, chirped. "Sorry Head Matron Swan couldn't see you off today, she's been called in for a meeting. Moonstone Gloom here has finally gotten her papers sorted out, so she'll be transferring to your school. Isn't that great?"

Sunset rubbed her neck. "Oh, uhm, sure." She smiled at Gloom, half-heartedly.

Gloom shrank behind her mane.

"Well, uh. Let's get going, then!"

Sunset led them outside. Brightness assaulted her vision, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Behind her, Moonstone yipped.

Sunset could only imagine how painful that initial glare might be. Snowfall in the morning was one time she imagined superior vision was not a pleasant thing to have.

Once the initial shock faded, they continued.

Sunset helped show her the way, pointing out the landmarks she used as guiding stones, covered in heaps of white or otherwise.

Gloom wanted to go forward and right, by the alley and streetlamp, Sunset explained. Don't turn left by the benches - that led to the big restaurant strip. Past the streetlamp, stop at General Alchemicals, turn left, go forward, et cetera, et cetera.

Moonstone nodded, no comments offered.

Sunset couldn't blame her. She'd broken out of her shell somewhat, but going to a new school was always scary.

As the building rose on the horizon, Sunset gestured. She assured her they closer they came that she had nothing to worry about, knowing it was a fib.

She couldn't stop thinking about what Tinsel might do when she met the bat pony.

Being nine - two years and two grades above Sunset - Moonstone Gloom and Sunset Shimmer did not share the same classes, let alone teachers. She was on her own, without Sunset's help.

It wasn't until recess that she saw her again.

Outside, fillies and colts took full advantage of the snowy day. On the sidelines ponies as individuals or smalll teams made snowponies, castles, or snow angels. Gloom kept to herself, building what Sunset presumed to be a tower or rookery.

Closer to the center, a fierce snowball fight had broken out. Sunset huddled behind a wall of packed snow, forming balls, using her magic to speed along the process. A few ponies called it cheating, but Sunset ignored them.

Or, more accurately, pelted them with rapid snowball fire.

Tinsel, Emerald, and Gold Foil tried staying out of the mess. Off to the side, they built a fortress around themselves, ducking and dodging any shotts that streaked their way.

In the chaos, Sunset couldn't tell where any one ball came from. Trenches, walls, and towers littered the battlefield. Countless scores of frostbitten soldiers fought to the wire, putting their lives on the line for Princess, Country, and Mare.

Many fought honorably. Just as many used dirty tactics to win.

Sunset slot nicely into that latter camp. There weren't any rules in war. All that mattered was winning, and fighting 'honorably' - whatever honor meant - was just a way of kneecapping oneself.

From the right of her periphery, a ball careened into vision. She snapped her head towards it, ducking by inches.

It saled over and past her.

And struck Emerald square in the cheek.

'Oh no,' was Sunset's immediate thought.

She turned to see who had thrown the ball.

Alarm bells rang in her head.

Of all the ponies in Equestria to participate in a veritable snowball war, Moonstone Gloom was the last. But the unmolded snow in her hoof and the grin on her lips was unmistakeable.

Emerald, sputtering, glared red-hot daggers. Before Sunset could warn Gloom, she threw another, striking Tinsel.

"Everypony stop!"

Tinsel's imperious voice sent waves through the yard. Pony by pony, hooves stayed, balls dropped, and attentions fixed. Across the entire yard, a blanket of silence smothered the world.

Moonstone's smile disappeared. She looked left to right, confused.

Sunset, frozen to the spot, watched as Tinsel and her crew stepped out of the fortress. Emerald and Gold wore expressions of rage and indignation.

Tinsel smirked.

"Lookie what we have here, girls!" She tittered, trampling close to Gloom. "A stupid, ugly bat pony."

Gold Foil stuck out her tongue. Emerald gagged.

"Who thinks she can throw snowballs at us? Us! Me! But I guess we can't get too mad at her." Right in Moonstone's face, Tinsel flicked the filly's snout. Gloom shrank back, leathery wings trembling. "She's just a bat, and bats are pretty dumb. She can't expect to know who we are on her first day!"

"Hey!" Sunset called. "Leave her alone!"

Emerald sneered. "Orphan girl is screeching again."

Tinsel waved a hoof. "Let her speak. It's not like anypony cares. But I wonder why she'd defend you." Her glittering eyes fixed on Moonstone's wide, slitted ones.

Gold piped in. "I heard she's an orphan girl, too. Cattail saw them together coming to the school this morning."

"Oooh? That explains so much! Of course a dirty, ugly orphan girl like Sunstink Shimmer would be friends with an even dirtier, uglier bat pony."

"I said leave her alone!"

Tinsel flicked snow at Sunset's face. It hit hard, freezing cold snow covering her glare. As it fell, Sunset's teal eyes smoldered.

"Or what? You're gonna put a whoopie cushion on my seat again." She wrinkled her nose. ""Or maybe you plan on blowing a spitwad in my hair. I'm soooooo scared!"

Sunset's cheeks flushed.

Tinsel turned away, disregarding her, and refocused on Gloom. Emerald and Foil flanked the filly on either side, closing in and circling her.

"Orphan girl!" Tinsel jeered. Her friends chanted with her.

"Disgusting!"

"Stupid bat!"

"Ugly freak!"

Between the fillies, Sunset caught glimpses of Moonstone. Her chest rocked in quick, unsteady movements as tears glistened on her cheeks.

Sunset felt something inside her. It was the same feeling she had in August, that day in alchemy class.

Multiplied by a thousand.

Her world shrank to Moonstone Gloom, and the three fillies. Their voices grew muffled. Their faces indistinct.

Unconsciously, she clenched her teeth. Heat surrounded her on all sides, and a pressure pushed from within. It pushed on her chest, her throat, her every limb, building, building, screaming to be released.

"I told you," she growled. Then, voice rising to a shout said, "Leave her alone!"

Like a pop-up from a children's book, a great wall of fire unfurled around Gloom, burning across the snow in a furious circle. The orange flames licked at the crisp ice-colored sky, melting the snow around. Above falling snowflakes turned to water droplets, steaming long before they touched ground.

Tinsel and her friends squealed. Stumbling back, falling onto their rumps, they scrambled away from the blaze with wide and fearful eyes.

The reflection of raging fire burned in Sunset's gaze. Atop her horn lit not her usual teal magic, but a wreath of orange-yellow cinders.

Once on their hooves, Tinsel's companions abandoned her. She screamed after them to come back, but they ran heedless.

Sunset stepped close, lowering her horn in Tinsel's direction. The cream-coated unicorn glared back, but now held something beyond spite in her narrowed gaze:

Fear.

Sunset smiled.

"Orphan girl."

Tinsel spat at Sunset's hooves, then, without another word, walked away.

Turning towards the fire, Sunset ran. The inferno broke around her, leaving her unscathed on the other side.

In the center of the circle huddled Moonstone. Curled into a ball, tail planted between her legs, she folded her wings in a canopy above herself, shielding her face.

"It's me," said Sunset. "Are you okay?"

Slowly, Gloom lowered her wings. Her singular eye peered from the self-made darkness, huge and round. Wetness beaded down her cheeks, staining her bright fur pelt shades darker.

"I don't wanna hurt you. The flames are harmless to us, see?"

Sunset stuck her hoof in the fire. Gloom gasped, but nothing happened.

"O-o-okay." On shaky legs, the bat filly stood. "Why did you do that for me?"

Sunset snorted, digging her hoof through the slushy ground. "Because Tinsel and her friends are jerks. They're always mean to me, and I didn't want them to be mean to you, too."

Gloom nodded, expression softening. Then her eyes widened again, jaw slack.

"What?" Sunset asked. "Is something wrong? Are they back? She turned in a circle, pivoting her head every which way, but none of the three were anywhere to be found. Finally, she settled back to Gloom.

"Your... you got your cutie mark," she said, thrusting a wing behind Sunset.

The world stopped. She didn't notice the warmth of the fire, the misty plumes of her breath, nor the whispering, murmuring ponies around the schoolyard.

"I do?"

Moonstone nodded.

Unbelieving, Sunset looked. She had no reason to think Moonstone would lie, but she nevertheless expected to see nothing but her markless, orange-yellow flank.

Instead, she saw a brilliant sun.

Its edges curved and swooped from the center. Half of it roared a mighty, beautiful crimson. The other half presented a relaxed, mellow yellow. Together, they formed a flaming dance of duality, light and dark, calm and hot.

Mouth flapping uselessly, Sunset stared at Gloom.

She broke the silence.

"Can we be friends?" she asked.

And Sunset agreed.
> Chapter 5: I've Missed You
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fork, gilded and jewel encrusted, came to Sunset's lipz. She parted her mouth, and accepted the fine scramble, savoring its taste.

She wasn't sure how she didn't see the fanciness of the silverware earlier. Last night though, she'd been starving. You didn't notice those sorts of things in that state.

She would know. To her, hunger was not an unfamiliar feeling.

It struck her, as she took another bite, that she used to eat like this every day. That was when Celestia had been her teacher, and she her unruly student.

It felt like a lifetime ago. In reality, it had been six years. But at nineteen years of age, pushing twenty, six years made up a third of her lifespan.

She took another bite. The eggs almost dissolved on her tongue. Crisp and crunchy on the outside, soft and fluffy on the inside - plus the addition of hot sauce for herself - she'd struggle to find a dish of comparative skill in all of Canterlot City's finest restaurants.

Rarity could probably show her one, but Sunset needed to have at least some money left over for rent.

Ha. Rent.

Funny to think she had rent now, considering where she'd started on Earth. Those first few days she spent in a run down, abandoned building in what used to be Canterlot City's industrial district. Other vagrants warned her the building was condemned, and planned to be demolished before long.

That never happened. To this day it stood, a crumbling facade of blank concrete, used needles, and spray paint grafitti. Or, as she called it for about a year: home.

Then Flash took her in.

The relationship was never truly genuine. Her appreciation for his generosity was. Though, Sunset was fairly certain few boyfriends would have let their girlfriends live in such conditions.

She lied a lot back then. As far as he was concerned, she was a troubled teen who'd been kicked out by her parents for being bi. He and his folks swallowed that untruth right up, and suddenly she had an actual bed to sleep on at night, and a reliable source of food to fill her thinning belly.

That gave her the opportunity to find a real job. She still made money on the side selling some... less than legal substances, but she took the safer, more stable source of income gladly. Less chance of getting shot, whether by a fellow criminal or the police.

By sixteen, she'd won the Fall Formal three years in a row. Good thing too, because that same year she broke up with Flash.

The year Twilight Sparkle came to school.

But y'know, she'd never complained about being in that shitty old building. Every night she fell asleep on cold, hard concrete she told herself, whispering to the darkness and the visible stars outside:

"It's just a stepping stone. You'll go back one day, and show her how wrong she was."

In a way, she'd been right. Just not in the way she would have expected, or wanted.

Good, she thought. What old Sunset wanted, present Sunset abhorred.

Thirsty, she set down her fork. She grabbed the tall glass of orange juice in her magic and tipped it down her throat.

It was cool, refreshing - exactly what she needed.

Across the table sat Starlight, eating her own breakfast. The prongs of her fork tinked against the china, scraping together the scumbles that tried to escape.

Neither had said one word to one another, except for 'Good morning' and 'We should get breakfast'.

Sunset chastised herself for last night's behavior. It was stupid. Sure, maybe Starlight could learn to take a hint, but that didn't excuse the outburst.

Even now, after everything she'd been through, Sunset had anger issues. They weren't nearly as bad or frequent as they used to be, but she had them.

Sunset would have given anything for Celestia to be here right now. She couldn't stand the silence. She never could. Back in her fillyhood days, if there was quiet space she'd fill it with her thoughts, or her words if circumstances allowed.

She set down her glass, took a breath.

"Hey, Starlight?"

"Mh?" Starlight, wearing only her beanie, looked up. "Yeah?"

"You don't have to stay here if you don't want to."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean." She sighed. "After last night. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to spend your time with somepony else."

Starlight frowned, stilling her fork. "I already told you I understood what you're going through. I pushed too far, and you got a bit angry. That's all. Happens to everypony." Her fork moved again, and she shoved a mouthful of eggs into her maw. "Beshides. I'm more convinshed than ever I should shtick around."

Sunset cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean." She swallowed, then pointed the fork at herself. ""Is that I did something a lot like what you're doing right now. I wronged a whole lot of ponies myself - a whole Sun-damned town. Then, one day, a while after I met Twilight, I got sent a letter."

Starlight grabbed her glass - filled with cranberry, rather than orange juice - and chugged. "I freaked the Tartarus out. Seriously, like. I've got a really bad anxiety problem. There are times that I get overwhelmed and just kinda... shut down, you know?"

Sunset laughed, interrupting Starlight as she wiped false tears from her eye. Sorry, sorry, It's just- You, me. Two formerly villainous ponies who redeemed themselves and now carry tons of mental baggage, on top of the various prior unexamined traumas we carried before that. It's a funny coincidence, you have to admit."

Starlight grinned. "Tell me about it, sister. We just need this world's Trixie and we can make a club. We'll call it-" She spread out her hooves. "'The Haven for Redeemed and Mentally Ill Unicorns'. Eh, eh? Whaddyou think?"

Sunset sported a lop-sided smirk, wavering her fork in the air. "Decent starter, but I think it could use some work. Replace 'haven' with 'home' and you're getting somewhere. But in any case, we've gotten a bit off topic. You were saying?"

"Right, right. So, yeah, I got this letter in the mail. They wanted me to return for the Sunset Spectacle celebration. Not only did they want me to return, when I got there? They wanted me to run the whole thing, and I'm like. Are you bucking crazy? The last time I came to this town I literally had you all brainwashed and give up your cutie marks! I ran away, terrified. I didn't think I deserved forgiveness, but they gave it to me anyways, and in spades. I just couldn't deal with it."

"But?"

"But," she sighed. "I came back, after defeating Chrysalis. The experience made me realize that while I wasn't being too hard on myself - because what I did was awful - I should learn to be able to accept forgiveness. And, for that matter, leadershipp, because me being a leader was never the issue. It was my ideology, my traumas, and unexamined fears. That situation isn't exactly the same as yours, I know, but it's similar enough. The main difference is you're intentionally seeking out the ponies you did wrong by to try and repair things where I just stumbled into it."

After a pause, thinking, Sunset nodded. "That... makes sense. Thanks, Starlight."

Starlight winked. "Don't mention it."

"But! Don't stick your nose in things too much, 'kay? Maybe you don't mind talking about your personal stuff, but I kinda do. Call it a personal flaw or whatever, I know it probably isn't a good thing I hate talking about my problems, but I have it anyway. So, if you can respect that, it'd be greatly appreciated."

"Worried I'm gonna go Twilight on you?" Starlight laughed. "I'll keep to myself. I might be her student, but you'd never guess it if you didn't know. Consider your secrets safe from my snuffling nostrils. I warn you though, they are very snuffly."

Sunset snickered.

"So what's on the docket for today, then? Got anypony in mind you wanna start with."

"Honestly?" said Sunset, staring down at her plate. "I think I just want to walk around for a bit. See the sights, smell the smells. It's been forever since I've seen Canterlot - properly, I mean. You can come with, if you'd like."

Starlight nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

After, they fell silent, and finished their breakfast.





Down the mountain corridor, Starlight and Sunset walked. To their left rose shear stone cliffs, reaching up towards the blue sky. To their right lay the city in its four-tiered glory, Celestia's early morning Dun shining upon.

The steps for most of the stair had been crafted of the same marble as three of the four tiers, and Canterlot Castle itself. Lower, around Old Canterlot, it transitioned to polished granite, a vaguely bluish gray.

Borders on the right prevented ponies from falling. Every now and again they came upon a junction, leading off towards the right. There would stand lightly mared checkpoints, to prevent random passers by from entering. The stair provided easy, straight-shot access to the palace grounds, and though Equestria had not faced true war or rebellion in centuries a capital must always remain well-guarded.

Before going out, they had slipped on their clothes. Sunset her black leather jacket, Starlight her own sleeveless jacket and teal shirt. The padding provided a buffer for the chilling winds up where they went.

They passed the high district first, then the middle before Starlight spoke up.

"We're going lower?" she asked.

Sunset hummed her affirmation. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I guess I always presumed you came from a similar background to Twilight."

Sunset quirked a brow. "That being?"

Starlight averted her gaze, grinning shyly. "I'm trying to think of how to put this without sounding rude. Either to you, or her."

Sunset blew an errant lock from her face. "You act like I care. Go on. I'm not gonna be insulted, and I won't go snitching to the Princess of Friendship." She snorted. "God, that's such a dumb title. Wouldn't it make more sense to call her the Princess of Magic?"

"But Sunset, don't you realize that friendship is magic?"

"I will actually push you over that ledge."

Starlight cackled. "In all seriousness. I guess the thing I figured was you had a privileged background. Or, at least, you grew up in the middle district."

"Nah. Trust me though, haha. I wish I grew up that way. No," she sighed. "Instead, I grew up here."

She gestured towards what counted as Old Canterlot's skyline. The roofs were brick, slate, or shingled and each building stood no taller than four stories, and covered much of the streets from view. Cramped and narrow was the best way to describe it, with any walkway allowing no more than a hoofful of ponies to stand side by side.

"Didn't know my parents. I was dropped off at the Royal Canterlot Orphanage before I was old enough to form real memories. I've got a couple vague ones - colors that might have been my mother, or a room that might have been mine, but that's it. It wasn't til I was older I got into Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Then, eventually, Celestia took me in herself, and I lived in the castle for a few years. I had to scrape every victory by the skin of my teeth. Nothing was ever easy."

Starlight's face gained a look Sunset recognized well. It was one she hated, ever since she was a little filly.

"Don't pity me, Starlight. It's not something I've ever desired."

"Sorry."

Sunset rolled her eyes, elbowing Starlight in the ribs. "Seriously. It's cool. I've gotten over it, and it's not like I had the worst foalhood in the world. Some ponies would kill to have what I did. Y'know, an actual roof over their heads. And, oh! We're here."

They stopped at an arched gateway. Two stone towers thrust into the sky, between them a bridge and latticed iron gate. On either side two guards had been stationed. Above them, on the bridge, paced a pair of steel-clad pegasi.

"Halt!"

The voice rang out like rolling thunder, hard as stone. The pegasus who spoke it - a mare with a grayish pelt - flew down to meet them. Her metal-shod hooves thunked against the packed earth, kicking up flecks of grit. Judging by the wings of her helmet and the royal crest on her breastplate, Sunset guessed her to be the waypoint's commander.

"State your names and business," she said.

Sunset offered the mare a polite smile. "My name is Sunset Shimmer, and my friend here is Starlight Glimmer."

Unappeased, the mare continued. "I don't recognize either of those names. How are you here on the Royal Stair?"

Joy. Fate had conspired to give Sunset a hardass. Luckily, she had a lot of experience dealing with ponies like this.

Donning a voice of authority and bravado - one she used to utilize often - Sunset explained. "I am the former student of Her Majesty Princess Celestia. My friend is the current personal protege of Princess Twilight Sparkle, to whom we are both friends. We are here on the express permission of the Crown."

"And your purpose?"

"Visiting Old Canterlot, where I used to live."

The pegasus stern expression remained. She called over a skinnier fellow - a unicorn with a salmony coat - and had him write the details of Sunset's declaration on a scrap of browned parchment. When he finished, she stared Sunset down with a pair of steel blue eyes, utterly unwavering in their conviction.

"We'll see whether your words are true or not, Miss Sunset Shimmer. For now, you will wait here in our custody until your claims are substantiated."

Sunset glanced towards Starlight, then sighed. "Fine."

The commander nodded, exchanged words with her scribe, and retook her place at the station's perch. The stallion gave them an abashed smile.

"Sorry for the trouble, ladies," he offered. "Commander Stormfront can be a touch, ehehhem. Over zealous at times. I'm sure you'll be able to pass through soon, But for now, please follow me."

Quill and scroll in tow, he guided them towards one of the towers. A wooden door marked its entrance, which he unlatched and pushed open. They went inside, wordless.

"Just wait here. Commander Stormfront will return to let you pass through later."

He shut the door, and left them to their silence.

The moment he was out of earshot, Sunset broke it. "Ugh, seriously?"

"Right? Honestly, we should just teleport to the other side."

"As much as I'd like to, I'd rather not antagonize anypony today. Do you really wanna be the one to explain to Princess Celestia why a platoon of guards searched the entire lower district for a pair of unicorns whose names just so happen to end with -immer?"

"Fair point."

Sunset surveyed her surroundings. The room offered little in the way of amenities, and sparse area to move around. Carved into the left and right sides were windows, too small for a pony to slip through but large enough to allow faint trickles of pale light. Motes of dust twirled in the morning rays, dancing like elegant ballerinas.

But that light did little to brighten the room. Rather, most of the lighting came from torches, which cast the space in a warm, but faint amber glow. 

Below each window had been set out wooden benches, about the length of the average mare, held up by black iron chains. Beyond that a locked door led up to a spiralling staircase and additional floors. Up there led to the barracks proper, and further up the bridge.

Down here was meant for keeping prisoners. If Sunset hadn't experienced similar conditions in the past - with the fun addition of nullifier rings and iron clasps - she might have been offended.

Scratch that. She was still a little offended, though she had no recourse for voicing said discontent.

Ultimately, her failed ploy came as small surprise. Nopony knew nor cared who 'Sunset Shimmer' was anymore. She'd been gone for too long.

Sunset took her seat on the left, Starlight the right. She propped her elbow on the window's ledge and rest her cheek against a curled foreleg, gazing towards the outside.

"Getting some major deja vu vibes right now," she said.

"From what, being locked in a guard tower?"

"Plus the whole 'interrogated by authorities' thing. Used to happen a lot to me actually, but not in a long while."

"Now those are some stories I'd wanna hear!"

Sunset looked over and grinned. "Well you can keep wanting. If a mare wants to stay interesting she's gotta keep some mysteries to herself."

Starlight pouted. "You are the absolute worst kind of tease."

"Not the first time someone's told me that." Sunset glanced back through the window, smiling. "Probably won't be the last."

Sunset kept track of time by the sun's position in the sky. It gave her a decent clue to how long they waited, but Starlight's watch provided a far more exact number. First half an hour passed. One hour. One and a half. Two.

Three quarters past noon, the knock arrived. Stormfront stepped in and bowed. "My apologies for the wait. You're free to go."

Neither her expression nor tone belied any such sympathies.

Sunset nodded, no more and no less, resisting the urge to sass the mare off. Starlight muttered her thanks.

Stormfront moved aside, allowing them to leave. Brightness pierced Sunset's visione as she stepped out. Hissing, she squinted, shielding her eyes from the blinding glare as behind her, Starlight did the same.

Once her vision adjusted, they came to the portcullis. Darkly wrought iron made up the large gate in a lattice, though spots of rust and age ate away at the bars. The stallion from earlier lit his horn, surrounding the lever in a cloudy azure aura. He pulled, strain showing on his face, but nothing happened.

"Heh, sorry, ratty old thing. We don't get as much funding down here as up there. Give me just... one... second...!"

Fierce yanks on the lever served to punctuate his words. Chains rattled, and the creaking, clunking noise of stubborn metal echoed through the courtyard like a hollow screech.

"Don't worry about it," said Sunset. "We'll, uh, we'll just teleport."

In a flash, she appeared at the gate's other side. A moment later Starlight popped in beside her.

Sunset thought, entering the city proper, how events seemed to conspire against her. It was as though Equestria itself was telling her no, that she could not return to see her past.

Could not or should not, she wondered, pacing down the grim gray streets. Was she better off renegging her plans, forgetting this life and moving on with her new one? Was it really worth it coming back here? Would she even find what she came for?

She shook away these doubts. Heights were made to be climbed, and challenges to be overcome. Some delays and malfunctioning gates meant nothing.

As though she were a fish reeled in by some invisible fishermare's line, instincts pulled Sunset forward. Without a solid grasp on her exact location, she could only follow where her hooves ledd.

The deeper they delved into the city's guts, the broader Sunset's smile became.

This place hadn't changed a bit since she left, for better and for worse.

The gathered throngs of ponies they stumbled upon told Sunset they'd reached the market district. Tents, pavillions, carts, and open stands lined the narrow paths. Ponies chatted, naming wares and haggling prices. Everything from fresh fruit to flowers and cheap pearl necklaces changed hooves, though any such jewelry was merely a well-made facsimile. No pony in their right mind would go about selling genuine precious stones on this level of Canterlot, and for good reason.

Between the mingling crowds ran laughing colts and fillies, dodging and weaving underhoof. Those who knew the way of the street kept well out of their way. Those less knowledgeable - or quick enough - found themselves bumped into, and later would find their pockets short a few bits. Merchants, meanwhile, kept them at bay through spells, hired muscle, or a good old threat of beating them with a stick.

One filly with a short-cut, ruffled ruby mane shot straight for Starlight. Before she made contact Sunset pulled the mare away, leaving a very disappointed, frowny-faced foal.

Starlight looked at Sunset with an odd expression. Any confusion she had Sunset answered with one word under her breath: pickpockets.

Smiling, however, she beckoned the filly close. She was a runt, skinnier and shorter than the rest, with a creamy pink coat, mulberry eyes, and two underdeveloped wings at her side. Reluctantly she approached, and once in whispering range Sunset leant down.

"You able to fly, kiddo?"

"Uh-uh."

""But you can still use your wings, right?"

"Uhm, kinda?"

"Good. Here," Sunset said. She retrieved two bits from a hidden pocket inside her coat. The filly took and bit each one before pocketing them. "For you, and a little tip you can use in the future. Use those wings of yours when you wanna bump into ponies. It'll make you go faster."

She winked, stood back up, and resumed walking with Starlight.

Upon turning a corner, Starlight spoke up. "Bad girl, Sunset. Giving fillies tips for how to pickpocket? Twilight would be ashamed!"

Sunset snickered. "Just because I'm reformed doesn't mean I can't get up to a little trouble every now and then. But oooh, do you smell that?" She sniffed the air, closing her eyes, smiling.

Winds from the north carried the scent of cooking food. Upon it arrived the sounds of sizzling, bubbling, and crackling fire. More stalls and carts littered the walkways, putting on eager display the various street foods they had on offer. Some roasted spits of vegetables over their firepit, others had grills or deep fryers.

Most provided savory offerings, though not all. Plenty of the brighter-colored stands advertised fresh fruits and cream, frozen dairy desserts, and every other kind of sweet treat a pony could put to imagination.

The bustling food markets of Old Canterlot were a sight to behold, as ponies and creatures from all over came to whip up a taste of home. Foreign, national, and local cultures alike clashed and fused to one another to create a hub of epicurean activity the likes of which could never be found in Canterlot's higher districts. This was the place where creatures of the world came together, to boast as much as to roast - their food, if not their competitors skill.

Starlight's stomach roared.

"Hungry?" Sunset asked, smirking. "I know, stupid question. Follow me, I know the best stuff to get."

Guiding Starlight through the colorful, crowded bazaar, Sunset searched for her favorite offerings. 

They stopped first at a cart selling Saddle Arabian cuisine, including a roasted kebab of onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, and desert flowers spiced and coated in feta cheese. They eagerly bit into their respective orders. Sunset hummed as Starlight moaned, flavorful vegetable juices dripping down each of their chins.

"Holy starsh. How have I been mishing out on thish all my life?"

"Easy. You weren't lucky enough to be born in Old Canterlot."

Swallowing, taking a second bite of wilted flowers, Starlight continued. "I'll say. I'd be round if I ever had a place like this near me every day."

Sunset laughed, and continued walking them through the market. "Well, it's not just about it being close by. You also need the money. I'd be lucky if I could visit this place and get something more than once a month. Made it more special though, in a way."

As they went, Sunset toured Starlight through scores of other ethnic cuisines. For what she guessed to be the first time in Starlight's life, she tried everything from seasoned thestral fruit bowls to baklava, swamp gumbo, eastern curries, Mareopean sausages, and dragon chocolates. Some dishes proved too spicy or overwhelming for the mare's suburban palette, though Sunset joked she'd get her hooked on firebreath hay chili before Sunset returned to Earth.

By the time they left the market area, Starlight was waddling.

"Worth it?" Sunset asked.

"Worth it," Starlight wheezed. "I... I think I'm gonna have to pass on dinner tonight."

"Ha! Weak. I could eat twice as much as you and still be fine."

"Yeah yeah. Not every pony is a walking trash compactor."

Snickering, Sunset observed their surroundings. Far fewer ponies populated this part of town, carts and stalls and storefronts replaced with faded shotgun housing. "Good news is," she said. "I know where we are now. Bad news, I still don't really know where I want to go."

Starlight shrugged. "Considering it was your gut feeling that led us to a place that made my gut the happiest it's ever been, just pick a direction. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Haha, sure. You know, I think my old school actually used to beeeee..." Sunset held out a hoof, scanning her options. "This way."

She pointed west, and led on. Past old-fashioned street lanterns they walked, run by gas rather than electricity. In some parts of the lower district, Sunset knew, they ran off technology no more advanced than magical flames.

When she was younger and dwelt within this tier of the city, Sunset often wondered why ponies overlooked Old Canterlot. Was it not important to ensure the health, longevity, and wellbeing of all the city, not just those more well-to-do? Was Old Canterlot so unimportant? Decades, centuries of history lived here, yet so little attention and important financing graced these weary streets.

It wasn't Celestia's fault, not wholly at least. Modern sensibilities held dictate that no ruler no matter how beloved should ever possess absolute power, as in the days of yore. For as far back as Sunset could remember, and generations before then, Equestria's power lie in the hooves of the ponies, or so was the hope.

In reality, power and influence trickled up, not down. Without proper guardrails and the insurance that every voice had sway, incentives guaranteed that money and attention be funneled into the areas deemed 'most important'.

Those areas, to little surprise, were the kind that already had greater economic production. Easier to pour bits where they'd already been invested, than to build something from the ground level.

And so Old Canterlot more survived than thrived.

The orphanage Sunset grew up in exemplified that dichotomy well. Its historical and royal ties might have meant it received superior funding to similar institutions in its backyard, but compared to places in the tiers above, it had always been understaffed and ill-equipped.

Perhaps, in better circumstances, they'd have had therapists and counsellors under their employ. Perhaps they could have stopped Sunset's spiral before it truly started.

But the past lay in the past and, in many ways, Sunset did not regret it. It was easy to imagine how much different and better things could have gone if this or that action had never been taken. Lesser often did a pony acknowledge the happiness they'd eventually found in their life, despite the pain and sorrow it took to get there.

At day's end, the importance lie in findding the balance. Momentarily, Sunset turned her head to acknowledge her cutie mark, then refocused on the path ahead, smiling.

Soon, they came across her first familiar sight.

Sunset brightened to see it in working order. Few at this time of day populated its sandy grounds, though in mere hours' time it would be filled with the jubilant cries of scampering children.

For clear reasons, Sunset chose to watch from afar. Parents watched their foals play in the sand, digging pits or building castles. Others clambered up metal ladders, or screamed in joy down tiny slides.

She looked to find the spot she had most enjoyed - a swingset she'd loved going to with her friend. Through the use of her magic or the filly's wings they'd make a competition out of it to see who could push the other higher. On more than a few occasions, they pushed too high, and one or the other wound up with a scraped knee or bruised forehead.

In its place, she found bare, coarse white sand. Four deep grooves stood as the sole reminder it had ever been there to begin with.

She couldn't blame them for removing it. The chains on that thing had been old and rusty, and the swings hung on by faint prayers. No doubt some accident had transpired, and upset parents forced them to take it down.

Still, it saddened her to see it gone.

If fortune favored, another set would take its place. Sunset liked the idea that future generations could share and enjoy in similar memories as she had, once.

Not far from the playground Sunset discovered her old school. Overgrown weeds and tiling of ill repair surrounded its front, like some strewn about, haphazard army.

Her thoughts turned to what might be happening beyond those red brick walls, the scratched glass panes and wooden shutters. These thoughts, in turn, rounded back to events from long ago.

Would her teachers still be there? Was Mister Cosine in that dimly lit classroom, telling kids not to blow spitwads? Or Misses Bubbling Brew, scratching elaborate alchemical formulae across the dusty, decades old blackboard? Did new bullies roam the halls, like Tinsel, Emerald, and Gold, and what sorts of ponies stood up to them and fought back like she had? Would they take things too far in the same way as her?

She wondered then, just what had become of the foals she knew from school and the orphanage alike. What might they think of her now?

She stood there, unmoving for a long time, lips sealed tightly shut until Starlight bumped her flank.

"So what's this place, then? You've been real quiet since we left the market."

Sunset shook her head. "Just reminiscing, wanting to visit old places from my foalhood I haven't seen in a very, very long time. It feels weird. Everything seems so much the same, but so different too. I know it's silly. Obviously things are going to be different - it's been over ten years since I've been back here, but... I dunno." She sighed. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Starlight nodded. "I do. Not that long ago I went home with a friend of mine to see our parents, which neither of us had done since we were young. I was too concerned with how annoyingly clingy and saccahrine my dad was being to notice, but I had a kinda similar feeling to what I imagine you have right now. It's like-"

"Deja vu?"

"Yeah."

"Heh. Guess the guard tower wasn't a fluke after all. I shouldn't be too surprised, though." She flipped her mane, turning around and starting off towards her next destination. "Today was meant to be a trip down memory lane. I'm just getting what I asked for."

Starlight trot after her, quickly catching up. "So you never told me what that place actually was."

"Old school of mine, before I ever went to the one for Gifted Unicorns. Had some asshole teachers and asshole bullies, but it wasn't all bad."

"Looked kinda run down if you're asking me."

"Oh, it absolutely was. Everypony loved pouring bits into the middle district, and the upper district practically funded itself. Down here though? We got the tablescraps.

Inwardly, Sunset sneered. She'd always hated the rich, snooty noble types and double-faced politicians as a filly. She didn't fancy them so much as a mare, either.

Perhaps Celestia'd been right preventing her from attending Day Court.

Sighing, she turned to Starlight, admitting, "I think I've seen enough for now. It's getting pretty late anyway."

Indeed, up above Celestia's Sun grew ever closer to where sky kissed land. Shades darkened as the faintest line of pink was visible, signalling the approach of sunset. Behind them the doors to that old school burst open, and out flowed the raccous cheers of young ponies, excited to return home and play with their friends.

With a silent nod, Starlight joined Sunset in her retreat.

Heading the way they came, Sunset couldn't help but to spare a glance back. Not far from the school, she knew, lay the foundations of the place she'd grown up in, and around it more places she and her old friend had made their own. They called to her, tempting her to turn around and look, but she faced forward instead.

Later. Not today.

As they passed again the playground, the homes, the emptying markets, Starlight asked, "Didn't you say you were looking for somepony today as well?"

"Yeah, I did. I haven't been walking down memory lane for the sake of it. Figured there might be a small chance I'd see her. Thought I did once, when we had lunch, but it wasn't her. That's fine though. It's a pretty big place to find one little bat pony."

"A thestral, huh? You know, I've never seen one until today. I feel like that's probably weird or offensive of me to say? But." She shrugged. "It's the truth."

"A lot of thestrals live in this part of Canterlot, actually. Most keep to themselves or, shocker, come out at night. I saw more of them around today then I've ever seen before, though. Makes me wonder if Luna's return reduced some of the stigma, helped them integrate and all. That'd be nice," she said, smiling. "My friend wasn't treated the best by everypony back when we were little. I hope she's found a more comfortable life for herself now."

"I'm sure she has, whoever she is."

Sunset smirked. "You're wanting to know more about her, aren't you?"

"Maybe?" Starlight blushed, stretching out the word. "Come on, Sunset, you can't blame a mare. You keep dangling these little pieces of information in my face and expect me not to wonder a little?"

Sunset chuckled. As they rounded a corner, the same red-haired pegasus from earlier skittered where they'd been leaving. Around her left wing slung the strap to a small brown pouch, jingling with bits. Sunset watched her disappear for a moment, then returned to walking.

"Fair enough," she said. "Let's see. Her name was Moonstone Gloom. I met her in second grade, when she came to the orphanage. We were pretty close for a couple years. It was actually because of her I got my cutie mark, at least partially."

"Tell?"

Sunset sighed, shaking her head. "Fine, but that's all you're getting."

As they trotted on, Sunset explained Moonstone's arrival, and the reception of her fellow orphans, of how Sunset manipulated her way into them treating the bat filly better. She told of the day they'd both gone to school together, but split up due to age and grade placement circumstances. Last came the tale of what happened in the schoolyard, and the three fillies that had bullied her. Sunset made sure to avoid any specific description of what they said, or more precisely any relation they had to bullying Sunset as well.

By the time they reached the Royal Stair gate, the world around was dipped in evening honey. Higher up stretched a blanket of blue and purple, littered with twinkling stars and Luna's rising Moon as lower it transitioned into reds and golds. Only a peeking hint of the Sun showed above the landscape.

To both mares' relief, Commander Stormfront remained at the station, allowing them to pass through unmolested. The pegasus did not appear especially pleased with their teleportation business, however.

That was fine, because Sunset didn't especially care.

"So, let me get this straight. You got your cutie mark defending a filly you barely knew from three bullies by casting a ring of fire spell, which you didn't even know existed?"

"Yup, that's basically right."

"How in the world did you go from that to being a villain? No offense." She grinned. "I've been one myself, so I'm not exactly judging."

"None taken. The answer to that question is a long, long story though."

Starlight gestured towards the steps, rising high ahead. "We've got time."

"What did I tell you about noseing in my business again."

"Right, sorry."

"Look, if you really wanna know. The long and short of it is this - I lost focus of what should have been important to me. I forgot about the ponies I cared about, and thought the thing I needed to be happy was to prove myself as the best. Obviously, you know enough to know how that played out."

"Right."

It took them well into evening before they reached the castle. Sunset nodded towards the guards, and they raised the gate.

As Sunset passed the threshold, a soft and luminous gloom caught her attention, glowing a faint and milky blue at her periphery. She stopped and turned to observe, Starlight beside her.

"You know," Starlight said. "It's funny. I had a fillyhood friend as well, way before I went evil. From what I knew about him in the past, I figured he'd be this grand and incredible wizard at the Crystal Empire."

"Mhm," Sunset mumbled, tipping her head towards the bed of flowers. As she approached their petals spread, exposing the gentle, fuzzy fronds of shining white that lay within. "And was he?"

"Ha, no! Not even close. Not to dig at him too much, though. He works for the Princess Cadance and Prince Shining now, and he's probably the most knowledgeable unicorn there is in the current age when it comes to magic."

Sunset continued to observe the flowers - Moonstone Bloom. They'd been Gloom's favorite, for how similar the two of them were. 

She remembered when they'd visited the Castle Gardens for a field trip, and Moon had seen them for the first time. It was love at once, and Sunset had helped her in stealing some of the blossoms to take back home. Moonstone tried her best to keep them alive for as long as possible, and their magical nature did extend their life, but one by one they died.

So what did Sunset do of course, but steal some more, and research preservation magic. It took her weeks, but eventually she'd perfected the spell, enchanting one of the fully bloomed flowers to last for what might as well be forever.

She remembered the unforgettable joy on her friend's face, and for this memory Sunset's chest grew pained.

"What happened between you two?" she asked.

"Oh, well. He got his cutie mark, and went off to show his parents. After that? He got sent straight to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Hay, you two might have even bumped into each other at some point!" Starlight paused. "What about you? Did something happen with Moonstone?"

"Yeah. She... We... Things didn't... end on the best of terms."

"Oh."

Sunset smiled an old, weary smile. "It's fine. It was a long time ago. Did..." Trailing off, she fell quiet for a long moment. "Did you know she was the first real friend I'd ever had?"

Starlight rest a hoof on her shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find her," she assured. "Sometimes, ponies are in the last place we expect them to be."

Sunset's ears perked, swivelling towards the sound of Starlight's voice. "Say that again?"

Starlight set her hoof back on the ground, tilting her head. "Sometimes ponies are in the last place we expect them to be? I'm confused."

Sunset laughed, whipping around quick and pulling Starlight into a crushing embrace. "Thank you Starlight, you're the best."

Starlight wheezed, voice coming out a rattled and dry whisper. "You're welcome? Can, can you please let go of me now?"

"Eheh, heh, right, sorry." She let go, and Starlight sucked in a loud breath.

"Now can you tell me what the buck that was about, exactly?"

"You reminded me of something. Don't know how I'd even forget it in the first place, but you reminded me!" She stamped her hoof against the grassy path, as though to announce some unknown triumph. "She got adopted."

"And that means?"

Sunset grinned.

"It means." She paused. "I can find her parents."
> Chapter 6: What We Called Friendship
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before Moonstone arrived, Sunset thought she liked books.

Now, she saw she had in them only a passing interest. Sunset read perhaps a book at most per week. Gloom, on the other hoof, seemed as though she had a different title in her hooves each time they met.

Whether it be a work of fiction or non-fiction, history or fantasy, thriller, mystery, biography, it didn't matter. She ate from their words and drank from their pages. And to that extent, not one children's book lay in sight.

It gladdened Sunset to find a fellow book-loving soul. She always thought she'd been a strange filly to enjoy reading collegiate-level textbooks, the kind which discussed high-level application and theory of various magical and scientific disciplines.

Not physics, though. She hated math, and always would.

It reasoned she was still a weird filly regardless, but at least now she had a friend with whom to share their mutual oddities. Often their academic conversations took them into the wee hours of the morning. Whenever that happened they'd go to school bedraggled and drained of all energy, but they kept doing it anyway, despite knowing full well the ill effects.

The selection of texts from the orphanage did leave something to be desired. Most choices offered were of a pointedly lower grade level than what interested them most. Yet to their great joy and fortune, school boasted a far more rigorous array of pages to bury themselves into. But even that did not satisfy their full hunger, as they found greater enjoyment from reading together than alone.

Where they discovered the truest gold mine lie in Canterlot's public library - one among many. Perusing through books on Equestria and Canterlot's history, they discovered how long ago, in the days of absolute monarchy, Princess Celestia had established a strong educational institution. She believed the better fortified the minds of her ponies, the stronger the walls and will of her nation.

For that reason, she funded the construction of libraries all across Equestria, and the same went doubly so for Canterlot.

On one Friday evening, the hour grew late. Outside, beyond the enchantment-tempered windows of the building, the Moon rose, and stars glittered like a million fireflies. Yet no matter the time of day, these libraries would never shut their doors.

And so on nights like tonight, with no school on the 'morrow, she and Moonstone would never stop reading.

Flipping to a new section of her book, Sunset read aloud, "Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns." Her voice betrayed no more than a whisper. Few and fewer ponies came to read at this dread hour, but she knew from experience if she spoke any louder the librarian would crawl from the woodwork to shush her up.

Eschewing the text in her lap, Moonstone leant over. "What's that?"

"I'm not sure. I think I've heard of it before but I don't remember."

"Well then read it already, I wanna know!"

Sunset nodded, and continued. "Founded by Her Majesty Princess Celestia in the year 531 A.U, this home of learning has represented in Canterlot and Equestria abroad the pinnacle of magical achievement. While many magical academies existed in private form prior to its establishment, none were as successful nor as highly acclaimed as this has come to be in current year of writing. Being as it is designed to teach ponies the study and application of magic, only unicorns are permitted through its golden, ivy-laden gates."

Moonstone's chest fur bristled. "Only unicorns? Laaaame."

Sunset blew a - quiet - raspberry. "Duh! It's called Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, not Celestia's School for Gifted Ponies." Gently, she clunked the side of Gloom's skull. "Besides, how can non-unicorns even learn magic? It's not like I could get into the Wonderbolt Academy or anything."

Moonstone huffed, but otherwise said nothing.

Sunset went on. "The standards for entering said gates are the highest among the nation. Divided into three wings, the school allows for the acceptance of foals, teenagers, and adults alike. To qualify for attendance, any applicants must pass one among a secretive selection of magical exams. In order to ensure results are based purely on raw magical talent, few materials exist outside the school's walls which divulge the examinations' contents. Often, it has been rumored each test is chosen specifically for the individual applicant. Otherwise and in modern times, former students and failed examinees alike have provided testimony to their own testing experiences. See page 297 for additional details."

Moonstone elbowed Sunset's ribs. "Hey, what if you applied? I bet you could totally get in."

To herself, Sunset read the introduction page further, chewing her bottom lip. "I dunno, Gloomy." She tapped her hoof to a lower down paragraph. "It says here only five percent of applicants get accepted. And here." She tapped again. "Only twenty percent of students actually graduate."

This time, it was Moonstone's turn to blow a raspberry.

"Shhhh!"

The librarian seemed to materialize from nowhere. Glowering behind thin, silver-framed glasses, she placed a platinum wingtip to her mouth.

"Sorry," Moonstone whispered. When the librarian turned away, she glanced back to Sunset as a fang-prominent smirk crept across her muzzle. "Are you really gonna tell me you're scared of a litttle number?"

"Five percent is not just a little number. And only twenty percent of that is like, one percent total!"

"Shhhh!"

Sunset huffed.

Gloom narrowed her slitted gaze. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Sunset?"

That earned a roll of Sunset's eyes. "Do I really have to explain statistics to you again? I'm just being realistic."

"And I'm just saying you're acting like a total scaredy cat." Heightening her voice by a hair, so it sounded like she mimicked a cheering crowd, she chanted, "Doooo it, doooo it, doooo it, doooo it!"

Thinking, Sunset rubbed at her fetlock. It was true - the chances of her getting in, let alone graduating were exceptionally low. But when had low chances ever stopped her before?

That thought was all she needed, planting an idea firmly in her brain that nothing short of unquestionable triumph could dislodge. The pieces clicked into place. Celestia banish the stupid numbers. Moonstone was right - she could do this.

Because she was Sunset.

Because she was smart.

Because she was better.

Grinning, Sunset tackled her friend. The filly squeaked, and both laughed as Sunset gave her a rough noogie.

From the shadows, the librarian with her pinched, elderly face rose into view.

"Shhhhhhhh!"

Moonstone and Sunset both turned to look at the librarian.

And blew a double raspberry.





"And stay out! I'll be sending your Head Matron a very stern letter!"

With a startling clamor, the double oaken doors of the library slammed shut. Its sound echoed, bounced and travelled down the craggy, aged stones of the walled-in streets.

Sunset kicked her hoof against the step. It caught on a loose, faded stone brick, and sent it clattering to the path below.

"Stupid librarian. There were only three other ponies there and they weren't even close to us!"

"Do you think we're banned from the library forever?"

Moonstone's voice carried a tone of genuine distress. Sunset smiled, bumping her snout to the filly's cheek for reassurance.

"Nah. You gotta do way worse stuff than that to get banned."

Moonstone's brows furrowed. "How do you know that?"

"Reasons."

Moonstone blew another raspberry, then yawned. Whatever. I guess it's for the best anyway. I'm sleepy."

"Sleepy? How? You're a thestral. Night time is like, your whole thing!" She gestured to the darkened streets and night sky. Lit only by the occasional oil lamp or lantern, much of the streets were obscured by an eerie, low-hanging fog. Any young filly in her right mind would find the prospect of roaming around Old Canterlot at this time petrifying, but none of those fillies were Sunset - or had a thestral for a friend.

"Just 'cause I like the night doesn't mean I don't need sleep, y'know. Besides, you regular ponies wake up in the morning to leave for school, so I have to too."

Sunset harumphed. "Fair."

After that, they started off, back towards the orphanage. With Gloom by her side, lending aid in the form of perfect night vision, and with Sunset's knowledge of the area, no amount of spooky darkness or swirling gray mist could stall their advance.

The lights to the building were dark when they returned. Knocking on the door, Sunset hoped a Matron other than Swan would be up at this time to let them in. Based upon previous experience, however, she knew this would not be the case.

Some moments later, the door's lock unlatched, clicked. The door swung open, revealing a baggy-eyed and frustrated Head Matron Swan.

"Good evening," she droned. The lack of enthusiasm dripped off her every word. "If you two keep staying up this late at the library, I'll be revoking your outside privileges."

Sunset pouted. "But it's a Friday! We don't have any school tomorrow."

Swan sighed, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. "That's not the issue, Sunset. I'm your caretaker and you are both my responsibility. If I can't trust you to return on time, how will I know if something has or has not happened to you? You know Old Canterlot isn't safe at night. Honestly, the only reason I let you two out is because I believe you're capable of defending yourselves."

Moonstone's head drooped. Sunset's face remained unchanged. Nevertheless, they each apologized. "Sorry, Matron Swan."

"Now get in you two. You'll be the trotting dead by dawnbreak. And since you came home late, you two will be helping the other Matrons and I put up Hearth's Warming decorations tomorrow."

"But," Sunset began.

"No wriggling your way out of this! You'll have plenty of time to work on any school assignments you have on Sunday."

"Yes, Matron."

Pushing the door wider, Swan stepped inside. Sunset and Moonstone followed, before leaving to their own rooms.

"Talk to you tomorrow?" whispered Sunset.

Gloom nodded. She turned, then stopped to get Sunset's attention. "Hey, maybe the decorating will be fun. I always used to put up decorations with mom and dad."

Sunset smiled. "I guess. It'll be more fun with you, at least."

Gloom giggled, and the two said their goodbyes.

Sunset went upstairs. Her room lay on the right side of the orphanage and its second floor. Moonstone, after being relocated, had hers on the opposite, and the highest floor there was - the fourth.

Once or twice, Sunset considered petitioning Swan to move Moonstone in with her. The debate raged on like wildfire in her mind for days at a time, before settling down again, until would inevitably resurface.

Ultimately, Sunset decided not to go through with it each time. She liked having a friend around, but she liked her personal space more. It let her have her secrets and special hidden things.

Quiet as a cat, she slipped past her bedroom door, then into bed. The large, wide-mouthed yawn snuck up on her as she crawled beneath the sheets, not realizing how tired she'd truly been. She closed her eyes, and bare breaths later she'd fallen asleep.

On the following morning - closer to afternoon by the time she woke up - Swan had been proven correct. She felt like a zombie.

Opening her eyes took effort. Each blink brought her further awake, but each time she closed her eyes the temptation grew to keep them shut. Finally, after a long while of thinking about returning to sleep and failing, she resolved to get up. She did have work to do after all.

Walking down the stairs, through the carpeted halls and against grayish brown, creaky wooden floorboards, Sunset found Matron Swan in the main room. From end to end, the space had been built large enough to host a small army - small in the most literal case, being for foals. Along the walls and in the corners various mares, fillies, and colts had set to decoration. The same, she knew, went for many other areas throughout the expansive orphanage.

Moonstone, already awake, pinned up strings of garland and cheery holiday lights. When she noticed Sunset she turned and dropped the green wire in her mouth.

"Now where do you think you're going, Missy?" Swan started, but smiled when she noticed Sunset as well. "Ah, there you are."

Grinning, Moonstone flapped over and nipped Sunset on the nose. She squealed, and stumbled back before shoving Gloom, making her tumble onto her back.

Matron Swan, observing this, chuckled. Early on in Sunset's friendship with Moonstone, Swan had many times walked in on such interactions and scolded them for fighting. But as they explained themselves, it became more and more apparent with each event it was simply their way of having fun.

With a hop and a flap, Moonstone flew upwards, then dove in and tackled Sunset to the floor. "Hiiii, Sunset!" she cheered. "You're up late."

"Yeah," Sunset said, grinning, though more groggy and croaky than her friend. "I'm still-" She yawned. "Still kinda tired."

Swan walked over, abandoning the lights and shaking her head. "I did tell you this would happen. You'll wake up soon, though. Moonstone here was just as sleepy when she got up."

"Yeah, but Moon's a bat! She's better at the whole sleeping thing."

"Now Sunset, it's not nice to stereotype."

Moonstone rolled off Sunset's prone body, helping her up with a hoof. "She's right though. Thestrals have shorter but more restful sleep cycles than normal ponies."

"Regardless," said Swan, and brushed fallen strands from the filly's face. "It's not polite to assume, even if that assumption is proven correct. And for that matter, you're just as normal a pony as anyone else. But, now that you're both up, this should all go much quicker. Sunset here has that fancy schmancy unicorn magic of hers." She looked towards Sunset and winked.

At once, Sunset's thoughts returned to the previous night. The name seemed to renew itself in her mind, brighter and bolder than before.

'Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns'.

"Before we continue, I'm sure you're starving, or at least hungry. Let's get some food and drink in you shall we? And since you're lending a helping hoof, you get as many refills of hot chocolate as you'd like."

Sunset's eyes sparkled. "Really? Spiced, too?"

"Of course, just how you like it."

"And marshmellows?"

"And marshmellows."

Gloom giggled. "Is it even hot chocolate if it doesn't have marshmellows?"

"I suppose that depends on your personal preference," Swan said. "Now come on. Moonstone, while I'm with Sunset, why don't you help out Matron Willowbush over there?" She pointed towards the mare, an earth pony colored like springtime fields and flowers. Without magic, and with only one colt to assist her - similarly an earth pony - they struggled to get their wreaths hung up on the ceiling.

"Yes ma'am!" Gloom saluted, and soared over.

Swan led her back into the kitchen, where a massive cauldron sat over a gentle, rolling flame. To most ponies the fire appeared utterly ordinary, but things were different for any pony who knew better, or any unicorn whatsoever. Sunset noticed the shimmering hints of bluish-purple between the blazing fingers, quickly denoting it as enchanted fire similar to the kind she'd conjured when rescuing Moonstone from her bullies. Any enchanted object possessed such a shimmer, colored with the hue of whatever unicorn's aura had cast it.

The Matron pulled a mug from the cabinets, then ladled into it a spoonful of steaming cocoa. After she grabbed various spices from the spice rack - cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, cayenne, and black pepper - which she proceeded to mix into the drink. Last but not least she dumped a packet of mini marshmellows inside, and hoofed it to Sunset.

She sipped, and groaned with pleasure. The silky smoothness of the chocolate, combined with the warm hug and tongue-tingling heat of pepper, made for a near perfect combination. Capped off by the teeny sugary bites of marshmellow and it truly became the perfect winter beverage. If helping out to decorate meant infinite refills of this, she'd start participating every Hearth's Warming there was.

Afterwards she ate breakfast, which Matron Swan had to whip up fresh. It was a comparatively simple affair - a cheesy bell pepper omelette with two nearly burnt strips of haybacon - disgusting to others, but exactly as she wanted it. It filled her up nevertheless, and was not so terrible besides. If she were cooking it though, she might have added more salt.

She, Swan, and Moonstone spent the rest of the day decorating. Ribbons were strewn about, mistletoe hung, wreaths and lights, garland and little Hearth's Warming trees, all found a place somewhere in the Royal Canterlot Orphanage. 

You couldn't walk a hoof without bumping into some kind of decor. Truly, Sunset felt bad for whoever hated the holidays.

The holidays were fast approaching, too. Next week signalled the start of Hearth's Warming break, which Sunset welcomed with open hooves. The less easy, boring homework she had to do the better.

Some days later, Sunset's cheer extinguished as reality caught up with her. She knew she was in trouble when Swan called both her and Moonstone into her office.

Thankfully the scolding was a short one. Swan told them to be quiet at the library and behave, to which they agreed. Sunset though received a harsher punishment, this having been far from her first run-in with trouble.

She wound up grounded for the last weekend of school, not too bad all things considered. But Swan wasn't the type to rely on stick-based approaches alone.

"if you behave for the next two weeks," she explained. ""And that means no fights, no arguments, stealing, running, generally causing your typical brand of chaos - and yes, that includes blowing raspberries when you've been told twice to be quiet - you'll get an extra special gift for Hearth's Warming. Or after, but you'll receive it no later than January. Does that sound fair?"

While having many times been named such monikers as 'fireball' or 'she-devil', Sunset was as much a child as anypony else. So obviously, at the prospect of receiving her very own super special holiday gift just for her, she grew unreasonably excited, and agreed immediately.

For the next two weeks, she behaved perfectly, as she'd done earlier in the year before pulling her prank on Tinsel. Not being in school and worrying about annoying hoity toity know-it-all teachers and big stupid bullies made the effort much simpler.

Because, at the end of the day, she knew how to behave. She knew it was better for her if she behaved, but she struggled to. Why should 'authority figures' go unchallenged, even when they were being mean or wrong? Why wasn't it fair to fight back somepony who was fighting her in the first place?

Stupid. It was stupid, and also dumb.

At least she hadn't gotten in trouble for the whole 'ring of fire' thing, though not for lack of trying on Tinsel's part. She lied and lied and lied to every adult who would listen to her, but she nor her cohorts were the only witness. Sunset never directly saw any pony who was at the schoolyard testify to the truth, but she assumed they must have done so in private to prevent any evidential tempering.

In the end, what might otherwise have turned into an endless cycle of 'he said, she said' became an overwhelming tide of testimony in Sunset's favor. She still received a slap on the fetlock - which was dumb - but so did Tinsel and her friends. A much more substantial one at that: detention, and for a solid week straight.

This of course did not endear Sunset any further to those three, but who gave a dragonpucky what they thought? All she had to do was teleport away when they came around, since stupid Tinsel was too weak to teleport like her.

Meanwhile, in the days up to Hearth's Warming, Sunset and Moonstone continued their evening escapades. They did genuinely try not to come home late, but it got so hard when a book really sucked them in. And so, Matron Swan assigned them a Matron to see them in and out of the library safely and on time.

Many books held their attention, as was so often the case. One alone wasn't nearly enough to quell their hungering minds. But one more than any other captured Sunset's imagination: a book which focused solely upon Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

History, politics, courses, students, inner workings, and prominent figures associated or graduated from the school, it left nothing out. Many of Equestria's most powerful magi, spellweavers, and arcanists hailed from that campus' vaunted halls.

Sunset could picture it. Closing her eyes, she saw herself clad in the gilded robes of the Equestrian Magic Society, wielding fire with the same ease she had taking breath. To study old tomes in the search of forgotten knowledge, to research entirely new and unbefore thought of magics, to defend the weak and protect Equestria her home from threats both foreign and domestic, she wanted it all.

And she knew she could have it.

However, fantasizing about her future career as one of the nation's most powerful unicorns - no, the most powerful unicorn - soon gave way to fantasies of a different kind. Hearth's Warming grew closer and closer with each passing day, and she couldn't stand the wait. Her mind ran wild imagining what gift Matron Swan was going to get her.

Sure, it might come in January, but whatever. Hearth's Warming was exciting enough on its own.

Days prior to the big day, she with the other orphans and Matrons set up the tree, a towering thing of dark green pines that made a mare like Swan look small, let alone a filly like her. 

Each pony got to pick their own ornament to go on the tree. Moonstone chose a crescent Moon that glittered silver and Sunset a matching Sun that glimmered gold. They made sure to place them right next to each other.

In the nights after, the presents trickled in. One by one, two by two they came. Each night that passed would in the morning bring with it a dazzling new array of boxes, wrapped in patterned paper, topped with bows, wound by ribbons. To each was attached a tag, written on it the name of the intended recipient in permanent marker.

Excitement buzzed in the air, running through the halls like electric currents. However much a foal might dislike the holidays, no pony in their right mind could deny the allure of Hearth's Warming presents.

Hearth's Warming Eve arrived, and the excitement reached a fever pitch. The orphans - including Sunset and Gloom - blabbed about what they'd get this year.

Being in Old Canterlot, and knowing they didn't receive a lot of funding, the gifts were never that spectacular. Yet, every year, they positively rattled with nervous tension to learn what theirs would be.

If Sunset wanted to, she could find out right away. One of the spells she'd taught herself from the library books lent her the ability to see through objects, but she stayed her horn. She'd concluded waiting was more fun than spoiling the surprise early, and having nothing to get excited about on Hearth's Warming Morning.

Waiting for night, though, was miserable. Each hour, each minute, each second to midnight felt like pulling teeth.

Luckily, as with each Hearth's Warming Eve, the Matrons had things for them to do. They made cards, listened to holiday music and audio plays on the record player, or sat around at story time.

Before dinner, the Matrons brought everypony into the dining hall. Across the long table was set out a paper covering, and mountains of sweets.

Sunset, along with Moonstone and all the other foals, gasped. One colt ran over and went to eat some of the gumdrops, but succeeded in only eating one before Matron Piper stopped him.

"Now now, this isn't for you to eat."

The collective 'Awww' could be heard all the way down into Canter Valley.

"Not yet at least!" Swan, smiling, stepped up. "We've gotten a little more funding this year, and we wanted to introduce something new for you all this Hearth's Warming. Has anypony hear heard of gingerbread houses?"

Immediately, an even louder cheer rang from the crowd. Sunset led the charge to the table, but Swan and the other pegasi Matrons blocked them with their wings.

"Hold your griffons, children. I'd like to keep this as orderly as possible. You will be assigned in teams of three - one unicorn, one pegasus, and one earth pony, to keep things fair. Or, if you wish, you may work on your own. Who your partner is is up to you. Everpony will be given two hours to complete their house, When the hour is up, I and the Matrons will look at each one and pick the top three best houses. Whoever wins gets a special prize, but you get to eat your house regardless of whether or not you win."

The cheer rose again, and rapid talking rapidly filled the dining hall space. Ponies paired off with one another or broke away to work on their own. Sunset and Moonstone, already beside each other, teamed up. They found a colt willing to join their team, and raced towards the seats.

"What do you think we should make?" the colt asked. 

Older than either of them, with an unassuming orange-tan coat and dull emerald mane, he'd never especially caught Sunset's attention. He had a sister named Daisy something. Or something Daisy. Sunset didn't remember or care.

"Whatever makes us win. I wanna get the top spot!"

Gloom pondered. "We should do something really big, then. What about... Canterlot Castle?"

"Perfect!" She turned to the colt. "Is that okay with you, Pines?"

"Timber. And that's cool, I guess."

"Awesome."

"But wait," Moonstone said. "I don't remember what it looks like."

"Hold on," Sunset said. "Matron Swan!" she shouted. "Can we use a reference to make our gingerbread house?"

"Yes, Sunset, you may."

Sunset grinned. "Okay, get as much stuff for building as you can. I'll be back in a flash."

And in a flash she disappeared, a moment later appearing in her room. She hoofed through her shelf of leased library books, and found her one on the history of Canterlot. She grabbed it, and teleported back to the table.

In order to win, Sunset explained, they had to go big, and put in lots of detail. Fortunately for them, they had her, and also photographs.

Wall by gingerbread wall, line by line of frosting mortar, they constructed the foundation of the palace. Sunset said it had to be big, so they measured it six hooves across. That gave each of them two hooves' worth of space to work with, although Sunset shuffled them around based on what needed working on by whom the most.

After the foundations, they worked on the towers. Roofs followed those, then the various gates and side entrances, including the front mote.

Last came the details. They added icing where felt most appropriate, but otherwise used the various candies and colored frosting. They weren't gonna win with just gingerbread and white icing, Sunset told them. It needed color, contrast, and pop.

"Don't you think we might run out of time?" asked Timber.

"Yeah. I think it'll be fine if we just do it up like a regular gingerbread house."

Sunset shook her head. "No no no, that's too simple! We won't ever win with something like that."

Moonstone and Timber glanced at one another. Sunset bowled past them, and returned to working on the castle.

She began by adding faint smears of green frosting for the grass, dusted with green sugar and sprinkles. Following her example, her teammates joined in. They included blue icing for the mote waters, gumdrops for any roof ridges, snapped and sharpened candy canes for any spikes or portcullises, and everything else under Celestia's Sun. Timber and Moonstone gave suggestions, but Sunset disregarded most of them unless they were actually good.

If they wanted to win, they had to do things her way.

Throughout construction, Sunset glanced at the other teams - her competition. A few looked rather nice, but nothing even approached the skill and grandiosity of their house.

The teams didn't worry her. The clock did.

For as much help as being a talented unicorn was, it wasn't enough. Too late Sunset realized she'd gone too big, but they couldn't start over now.

The two hour marker arrived. They stopped, and Sunset looked over her work. She'd gotten so close, but not quite close enough.

Still, she assured her teammates they'd totally win first place. Yeah, maybe a fourth of the castle was completely barren of anything except frosting, but pish posh. Theirs was still the best.

"Alright everypony!" Swan announced. "The Matrons and I have looked over all the houses you have to offer, and might I say it's a mighty impressive lot! But as you know, only three teams will get their special prizes. So for the first winners of the night, third place goes to..."

The hall fell deathly silent.

Swan went to a group at the table's bottom end. They'd made a typical gingerbread house, albeit well executed. "Snowflake, Banjo, and Riverdance, for simplicity done sublimely." The team cheered, high-hoofing each other. "Second place goes to..."

She walked further up. This team had built a small recreation of the orphanage. "Cherry, Plum, and Fairy. What a beautiful choice. The Matrons and I appreciate the gesture immensely. Now." Sunset held her breath. "First place goes to..."

She rounded the table's corner, making it over to Sunset's side. She, Timber, and Moonstone shared fertive glancees as her heart thumped against her chest.

Before Swan could reach them, she stopped. "Herbal, Blossom, and Comet, for their stunning crystal tower. What an ingenious way to use rock candy. Absolutely stunning, and you certainly deserve the top billing."

Sunset's heart fell, so hard it nearly crashed through the floor. Dimly, she heard Swan say something about 'honorable mentions', but she didn't care.

Tears welled in her vision. Before anypony could see her cry, she pushed away from the table and ran.

Moonstone tried to reach out to her, but she slapped the hoof away.

Heat and salt burned at her eyes. Blindly she raced through the halls, wondering where she should go.

Her room wasn't an option. Swan or Moonstone would expect her to be there.

Chest pounding, her hooves thumped against the carpet, and carried her up the stairwell. She turned, ran some more, to the second level, the third, only stopping at the fourth.

This floor was off limits, meant for the Matrons. She didn't care, though. Screw their stupid rules.

Rounding a corner, at the end of the hallway, she found a large room. A round rug had been placed at its center, atop that a long table and chairs of an older era's design. She guessed it must have been a meeting and rec room.

At the opposite wall - the largest length-wise - simmerd a glowing fireplace. Sunset felt magnetized by its warmth, and drew close. Before she did though, she shut the door and locked it with her magic.

Sniffling, she sat down. She curled up, wrapping her tail around herself and placing her snout between her hooves.

Stupid Matron Swan. It wasn't fair. Hers was the best. Hers. Just 'cause she didn't finish it didn't make it not the best.

For a long time, she sat there, wallowing. Wetness rolled down her cheeks in gentle beads, but she kept quiet. She wanted to be alone.

Eventually, when crying tired her out, her eyelids drooped. She closed them, registering but not really internalizing the heaviness in her limbs.

Rather than continue to think about the unfairness of it all, she chose to just not think. It was easier, and soon, she fell asleep.





Knock knock knock.

With a jolt, Sunset jerked to awakeness. Her ears perked, swiveling towards the sound. It took a second to process what it had been, but when she understood, she ignored it.

Knock knock knock.

'Go away', Sunset thought.

"Sunset, is that you in there?"

She said nothing.

"Please, open the door, sweetling."

"No."

Outside the door, Swan sighed. "Sunset, I know you're upset, but Moonstone is worried about you, and for that matter you're not supposed to be up here."

Who cares?"

"I would like to think you might. She's your friend, Sunset-"

"I meant being up here! You didn't pick me even though mine was the best, so why should I not come up here even though you've told us not to?"

"You know exactly why. Don't be foalish."

"I am a foal."

The knob rattled. "Sunset, I'm serious. Open the door, or you're grounded for a week. We can talk about this."

Sunset huffed. Lighting her horn, she unlocked the door.

"Thank you."

Swan came over, and sat down with Sunset. Noticing the wet stains on her cheeks, her frown deepend as she brushed them aside. "Have you been crying?"

"No."

"I'm sorry that you lost. For what it's worth I thought what you and your friends made was gorgeous."

"But."

"But," she sighed. "It wasn't finished."

"Still the best one, though," Sunset mumbled. Muzzle buried in her hooves, she stared at the rolling flame, avoiding Swan's gaze.

"Your team did win the honorable mention."

"Useless. Who cares. Not like I get a prize. And now that I acted up I won't even get the special gift you told me about."

Sunset's voice broke. At that realization, she struggled not to cry all over again.

Swan leant over, wrapping her up in her wings. "Oh, honey. I think I can make an exception."

Sunset kept quiet, listening to the beat of her heart and the crackle of burning wood. Swan said nothing as well, stroking her downy feathers along Sunset's back.

Eventually, Sunset couldn't bear the silence. She hated when quiet went on for too long, especially with another pony around.

"How long did I sleep for?"

Swan stopped her brushing. "A few hours. Everypony is asleep now. We looked in your room first, then every room after that but couldn't find you. We worried you might have run away, but the front doors were locked and Matron Mayflower said you hadn't left behind any traces of teleportation magic. I opted to look up here, and figured you were inside given the locked door, which Mayflower confirmed. I... figured you could use the alone time, however."

"Thanks," Sunset whispered.

"Of course."

Swan resumed her stroking, and Sunset continued to stay quiet.

"It's almost midnight," Swan said. "Perhaps you should get going to bed now, don't you think?"

Sunset looked up. "I wanna apply for Celestia's School."

Swan, briefly pausing her wing, cocked her head. "Celestia's school?"

"Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. I read about it in a book, and I wanna apply."

"Do you really think this is the time for this conversation?"

Sunset stood, moving away from the Matron. "I wanna go."

"Sunset-"

"I wanna go!" Sunset, glaring, stamped her hoof. "Enrollment is free anyway! Why do you care?"

"Because it's not easy to qualify, Sunset! And after this little outburst of yours because you lost some gingerbread house-building contest, how am I supposed to know you'll take it well if you don't get in? Nineteen of twenty unicorns who apply-"

"Don't get in, I know! I read the book! I'm not stupid!"

"I'm not saying your stupid, I'm saying you're sensitive, and for that matter you're incredibly undisciplined. You're bright, you're talented, you're one of the most powerful unicorns I've seen at the orphanage, but that does not a passing exam make. You need to prove to me you can focus properly rather than doing whatever you'd like, and that you can handle the sort of pressure that school will provide. Do you think it's all peaches and cream once you get in? No. Once you step into those halls, your free time all but disappears."

"I don't care."

"Well you should. Especially if you care anything for me, or Moonstone. I-" Swan gave a long and deep exhale, rubbing at her temples. "Look. All I'm saying is they're going to expect a lot from you, and what happens if you don't get in?"

"I'll try again."

"And if you fail."

"I'll do it again. And again and again and again until I qualify. They allow everypony from fillies to mares. I don't care how long it takes. I wanna go."

Matron Swan shook her head. In her blueberry eyes, turned purple by the red and yellow flames, Sunset saw in them a familiar sorrow. "You're really set on this, aren't you?"

Sunset nodded. "You can make it my gift, to enroll me."

"I've already bought your gift."

"Then give it to Moonstone."

Tears, faint but unmistakeable, formed at the edge of Swan's eyes.

Sunset had never seen her cry, but before she had the chance to process it Swan swooped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Okay. I'll enroll you.

"Thank you, Matron Swan."

Against her, Sunset felt Swan's chest lurch. "I love you, sweetling. Above anything else, I want you to understand that. I know I'm not your mother. I know I can never be your mother. But I love you."

Sunset, startled, muttered out a small but genuine, "I... I love you, too."

It was long moments before Swan released. She pulled back, got to her hooves, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Nevertheless, she smiled, or at least tried to.

"Come now, Sunshine. It's time to get you in bed."
> Chapter 7: Can You Hear Me?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days.

For three days Sunset searched, and nothing. Page after page of musty paper that made her cough on every turn. When would it end? When she'd grown old and gray? When the Sun died out? The heat death of the universe?

Groaning, she slammed her forehead into the crook of the open registry tome.

Why the registry wasn't preserved, Sunset could only wonder. Then again, this edition was from some three years ago, and Canterlot updated its census every year. Why bother to maintain something so trivial? It wasn't like it was falling apart, either. Enchantments saw to it the pages would not age or weather.

They really ought to cast a dust-repellent spell on the damn thing, though.

What Sunset really missed was the internet. Answers at her fingertips. Solutions drawn in seconds' time. But internet didn't exist in Equestria, so she had to try and find her old friend 'the old-fashioned way'.

Ugh. Old-fashioned. Traditions. Who needed 'em?

Applejack, probably. Good thing she wasn't here.

Noticing her candle's fire had dipped low, she fed it a sliver of magic. The flame consumed it eagerly, flaring up with incandescent pride.

Around her, pitch black gave way to shadowy yellow gloom. She blinked, squinting to see through the rejuvenated light.

The archives of the Royal Palace surrounded her, towering some fifteen stories high. Each of those fifteen stories measured thirty hooves from top to bottom, and another thirty hooves across.

It was not visible from the outside, however. Rather, this section of the castle had been built into the ground.

Rows upon rows of books, tomes, and records lined the walls of each circular level. Between them opened up passages, which sprawled in neat little matrices for what could be as far as miles. Certainly, it encompassed the entire underside of the castle.

Sunset smiled, remembering Twilight's reaction at the secret section of the Royal Library.

That place had nothing on this.

Sunset sincerely hoped Celestia never divulged the details of the archive to her alicorn friend. There was reason for genuine concern she might die of book-induced heart attack upon learning of its existence.

But there were other reasons. Most of the information here pertained to records keeping, but not all records were so mundane as census registries. Dark, corrupting magics and other knowledges best left buried dwelt within these hallowed halls. Locked with spell upon spell of highly advanced, self-defensive key-layers they sat in black umbra, never to see the light of day. Not even Princess Celestia herself had the permission needed to access those grim branches.

A pony could, with enough time and talent, break through. Twilight and Starlight could no doubt, if they put their minds to it. Any of the Princesses could as well. It would take years though - decades, even - without the exact correct combination of spell-locks and key words.

One wrong step, and poof!

At best, you'd be zapped straight to the dungeons. At worst - and if you'd gotten far enough - you'd be vaporized on the spot.

Sunset shuddered, to think about it.

Some ponies believed the powerful evils of the world influenced the areas around them. Locked up they could be restrained, but the hateful, sinister energies remained. They'd reach out, influence what they could in their tiny, minute ways. How far that influence reached depended on the power of the magic, or the intelligence behind it.

Put bluntly, Celestia had buried the archives deep underground for a reason.

A sudden chill crept along Sunset's spine, and she swore she saw shadows move on the wall. But, quick as they'd come, she dismissed them. She was safe, or else Celestia would never have agreed to let her down here. She was only imagining things.

For the next few hours, she continued to pour through the registries. She had to be certain she wasn't missing anything, so she went down each page, name by name.

She'd hoped she might be able to find Moonstone, or the parents who'd adopted her. Little luck in that, though, she realized. Pony families rarely passed on similar names and surnames. Pinkie's family stood as the sole exception Sunset could think of. Even Applejack's had differences.

"Moonstone Gaze. Moonstone Gleam. Moonstone Glide. Moonstone Glow. Moonstone Gorget. But no Moonstone Gloom."

Sun damn it all. She rubbed at her temples fiercely, swearing she'd given herself a migraine. The fact five whole-ass ponies existed in Canterlot all with the name 'Moonstone G-something' was enough to make her loathe Equestrian naming conventions.

It did make her wonder if there were other 'Sunset Shimmers' around. Surely there must be, right?

Pony names were quite literally as variable as verbs and nouns in the Equestrian language, however. There might be a thousand Sunset Shimmers spread across the nation, or there might be dozens. Just as likely, she might be the only one in existence, before and after her time.

Whatever. She just wanted to find her friend.

She yawned, wondering exactly how long she'd been awake now. She... thought she remembered eating breakfast.

She couldn't deny the likelihood her exhaustion had her making mistakes. Maybe she'd misread one of the moonstone names, given how blurred her vision was. Or, in that same vain, she'd managed to skip past it.

Again, she thought to the conveniences of human society. Internet oh internet. If only Equestria had comparable technologies.

Wait.

Wait wait wait wait wait.

The lightbulb went off in her head. She jumped to alertness, and cast a flash spell to light the entire room.

There. On one of the desks near hers, she spotted it.

A phone.

A shitty dial-up phone, granted, but a phone regardless. She'd completely forgotten Equestria had those.

She raced halfway to grabbing it before she stopped, realizing she needed to actually know the number first before calling. That, fortunately, was far simpler a task than the one she'd been fighting. Phones were a rarity on this side of the portal. The number of ponies who had one in their homes likely numbered in the tens. No, it was institutions that had the privilege of telecommunication.

She swept aside the registry, and cast a spell of finding. It reasoned that if Earth had phonebooks, Equestria did too.

A few levels above her, she spotted a faint glow, shimmering in the same color as her magic. She took hold of it, eased it carefully from the shelf, and brought it down. She opened the slim book, amused to find the pages yellow, and searched.

An hour later, she found it.

By the phone, she punched in the number, hit the call button, and waited.

It buzzed for several long moments. The longer it droned on, the more Sunset feared she'd not get an answer.

Then, the phone clicked.

"Hello?" she asked. "Yes, hi. Is this the Royal Canterlot Orphanage?"

"Okay, great! Yes, you can help me. My name? Sure. Sunset Shimmer."

"Yes, so. I'm calling to ask if you have any documentation on orphans that have already been adopted. Specifically, from about, uhhh. Ten? Sorry, eleven years ago. Anything like that?"

"Oh thank Celestia. Okay, I'm looking for whoever adopted 'Moonstone Gloom'."

"Thank you so much. Just to make sure I have the names right, that's Terracotta Glaze and Sirius Star, correct? Okay, okay, great. Again, thank you so so much. You have no idea what this means to me."

"Why did I ask? Ah, yeah. I used to be an orphan there, actually. She and I - Moonstone I mean - were friends. I'm back in the city for a little while and trying to track her down. Big city, y'know? Yeah. Hahaha. Okay, again, thanks so much. You too. Bye."

Grinning ear to ear, Sunset slid the phone into its holster, then whooped and cheered, dancing on her hindlegs."

At about the same time, Starlight teleported behind her.

The suddeness of it shocked Sunset something fierce. Though she'd never screamed when startled, she had a tendency to jolt, then freeze, before eventually finding herself able to move. She scowled, and got ready to bore white-hot holes into Starlight's eyes.

The look of concern made her face soften. "Hey," she said.

"Hey. You've been down here for like, basically the whole day. You even skipped lunch and breakfast."

"I was researching."

"Uh huh." Starlight didn't appear impressed by the explanation.

"But," Sunset assured, grinning. She grabbed Sunset by the withers, and shook her frantically. "I'm done!"

"You are?"

"Yes!" Sunset released her grip. "I couldn't find her directly, but I found her parents - her adoptive ones, I mean. The orphanage had the records and gave me their access."

"That's great! When do you plan on going? Not tonight I assume. You look horrible."

"Do I?"

"I could show you with a mirror spell, but I think I'll spare you the image. You look less like a pony and more like a ghoul. But, like, a hot ghoul."

Sunset flushed, then smirked, punching Starlight's shoulder. "Shut up. Anyway, I'm hungry. Is it dinner time yet?"

"Close enough."

"Then let's eat." Sunset teleported herself from the botom floor of the archive to the top. Starlight followed. "I'll need a lot of energy for tomorrow."





Bright cobble streets laid beneath Sunset's hooves. All around her stood buildings built from limestone, marble, and other white rocks, topped so often by lilac and lavender roofs. Where Old Canterlot's homes and buildings were all blocks and straight edges, much of the construction here swooped and twirled, reminding Sunset much of the spiral in a unicorn's horn. Given unicorns comprised the majority of the city's population, she doubted the choice in design was unintentional.

This architecture rang familiar to Sunset, but it did not ring of home. She had not grown up here. In fact, she'd spent much of her time growing up despising this place, and High Canterlot most of all. Even during her days at Celestia's School, she preferred to reside on campus than explore the city.

Now, as an adult, that animus had lessened. Bitterness remained, though it simmered away in a mild, reasonable manner. Rationally, she knew she had no reason to feel any negativity or ill towards this tier's residents, but.

Well, rationality had never been her strongest virtue.

Starlight walked beside her as they turned through the populated streets, past kitchy cafes, gourgeoise shops, and the odd street performer. Middle Canterlot without doubt had street life, but it was not the same as the lower tier.

"Remind me why we're here again? I thought the address was in Old Canterlot."

"It is, but I want to get them some gifts. Like a kind of olive branch. It's been years, and considering we broke off on poorer terms, I figure it can't hurt."

Starlight nodded, and they continued. Sunset kept her eye out for more quaint, homely storefronts. Whether the sense was true or false, she felt things bought from older, more hole in the wall type places held better offerings.

When she saw one building with red clay shingles, faded wooden shutters, and a small wooden door, she knew she'd found the right place. Pausing briefly at the windows she peered inside, to get an idea of their stock. Satisfied she went in, the door jingling a friendly chime.

"Good afternoon!"

The voice came from behind a shelf, female and elderly. After some shuffling, the mare stepped out, colored like mint and chocolate. On her slender snout perched librarian's glasses, and around her neck she wore a small white tie.

Sunset smiled. "Afternoon, miss. You've got a lovely shop here, if I might say."

"Why thank you dearie. It's a small affair, but I get by. You'll not find better quality for cheaper prices." She winked, and nodded her head towards the stocked shelves. "Need help finding anything?"

"No thank you. Just looking around for a gift."

"Wonderful, wonderful. Well, if you need assistance with anything at all, give me a holler. I'll be here."

Sunset dipped her head in acknowledgement, slipping between the shelves. Starlight followed, looking around as wooden boards creaked under their hooves.

They passed all manner of knick knacks. From music boxes to famous fiction novels, wooden figurines, antique jewelry and vinyl records. Plenty of good choices presented themselves, but most lay outside of Sunset's price range, and she wanted something simpler anyhow.

Looking to see if they had any food or drink, Sunset found what she'd been looking for. In her teal magic she pulled down a bottle of aged red wine, a box of assorted chocolates, and a second box of marzipan, made and colored to look like the cutie marks of famous historical magi.

Starlight snickered behind her.

Sunset raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing! Just seems a bit early to be asking her out as your Hearts and Hooves pony."

"Oh ha ha."

Rolling her eyes, Sunset went to the counter.

"Find what you were looking for?"

"Sure did. You've got some great stuff here, honestly. Might come back another time."

"Please do."

The kindly mare smiled, taking the items Sunset brought with her. After calculating the price, Sunset fished the bits from her saddlebag and slid them over the counter.

"Pleasure doing business with you," the mare said. "Whoever your friend is, they're very lucky. Mare like you is quite the catch!" She winked.

Sunset turned crimson, stammering. "It's not like that, I swear!"

"Don't worry." The mare grinned, lowering her voice to a hush. "Your secret's safe with me."

Groaning, as Starlight tittered quietly behind her, Sunset went out the door.

"Now we go to Old Canterlot," she said. "It'll be after lunch by the time we get there, I think."

"Mh. Lunch. I could use a bite to eat right about now."

Sunset shook her head. "I've got some place better in mind."

Instantly, Starlight perked. "The market again?"

"Nope! You'll just have to wait and see."

"No fair."

Sunset tossed her a sidelong smirk. "Consider it payback for teasing me about the chocolates."

"And the wine."

Sunset rolled her eyes again. "Yes. And the wine."

It took near two hours of walking to reach the lower tier. Recognizing they were close to where they'd been some days earlier, Sunset took the lead, guided by familiar old landmarks.

When she reached the Orphanage, she stopped, observing the building for several long, quiet moments. Beside her, Starlight appeared momentarily confused, before noticing the signage on the building's front.

Their eyes met briefly. Starlight said nothing, allowing Sunset her time of silence. She smiled, and returned her attention to the building.

It looked the same as she'd left it, a thousand lifetimes ago. A part of her wanted to walk right up those steps, knock on the door, and apologize to Swan for everything she'd done.

But she couldn't. She had other things to attend first.

Sighing, she continued on their trot. Beyond the alley, the streeplamp that flickered even during the daytime, they passed old alchemist and magic shops. Several had closed, for good or the time being. Some had gone under new management.

Seeing them all, remembering her little schemes from back then, she couldn't help but snicker. Starlight looked at her oddly, wanting deathly to ask for explanation. This only made her laugh harder.

Before the point where they'd start heading to Sunset's old school, she took a different turn. It led away from the housing, closer to the market. The presence of manicured hedges and pretty yellow string lights - off at this time of day - announced they'd arrived.

Sunset looked for that old favorite of hers, on the right side of the street, six businesses down. She couldn't wait for a taste of their sweet, savory, red as sin tomato bisque. Served with hoofmade sourdough and topped by fresh basil, it could warm a pony up from the inside better than anything short of spiced cocoa.

Her heart fell, when she saw the building.

"This the place?"

"No," Sunset admitted. "It's gone."

Big Yam's Cafe was nowhere to be seen. A new restaurant had appeared in its stead, but not one Sunset knew.

"I'm sorry."

Sunset sighed. "It's whatever. We might as well eat here anyways."

She was glad at least to find they'd not ditched the outdoor seating. Today, with the Sun out and gentle warm, breeze light and airy with a clear blue sky above, a pony couldn't ask for better weather.

Beneath an unfolded green umbrella, she sat, Starlight across. Some moments later a stallion appeared, tan of coat and white of mane, bearing a spiffy waiter's uniform.

Sunset saw the menu was quite similar to the previous. Though, cafes often served similar foods. She ordered the tomato bisque with the fresh, hoof-squeezed lemonade, and hoped it might be half as good as Big Yam's.

It wasn't.

Or, at the very least, it wasn't the same. The bisque was orange, not red. More salted than peppered. The sourdough was softer, but not as sour, and instead of basil they served it with thyme and rosemary. Were it not for the context she'd have been perfectly satisfied with the meal.

Instead, she left with her stomach as heavy as her heart.

She shouldn't have been as upset by this turn of events as she was. Silly, stupid emotions. She repeated to herself restaurants often lived short lives, but it eased her little.

Downtrodden, and on the suggestion of Starlight, they ventured to the nearby public park. Sunset remembered coming here once or twice in her orphanage days. The Matrons wanted to ensure their charges got a healthy dose of nature and Sunlight.

Mostly even of ground, the area stretched on for some miles like a carpet of emerald. Populating the terrain were trees of hardy variety - oaks, elms, maples, and pines. Flowers and bushes tended to by gardeners of the city district's employ provided a needed pop of color beyond the majority greens and browns.

Residents and visitors mingled in small to large groups. She saw several parents with their foals, and smiled to herself. Unlike her old playground, this place hadn't changed a bitt, and for that she found herself pleased.

It would have made a perfect picnic spot. As it was, they used it to pass the time and relax.

They spent their hours traveling the paths, packed hard from decades of hoof-traffic. On a few occasions Sunset took them off-road to see old sights, or Starlight to witness unfamiliars.

Home to placid lakes, little glades, and dens for smaller critters like rabbits and birds, the relative wildness of the park surprised Starlight. Wondering how such a place could exist up in the colder, less kind elevation of Equestria's capitol, Sunset explained the history. Although the council for Old Canterlot struggled to fund what it needed, this park represented something of a pride for the area. Sunset had been too young to understand it, but with fewer sources of high-income economic activity, the populace found care and defended fiercely their historical ties.

The park was one such thing, like the Royal Orphanage and public libraries. Constructed on the Princess' orders early in the city's history, she'd been responsible for its upkeep and reputation. Rumors told the parameters and appearance of the park had been built with Celestia's explicit words in mind, either as a recapturing of the wilds from Equestria's previous capital, or perhaps something far more ancient.

Sunset had never asked, because she'd never especially cared. Though, she suspected the latter. The park wasn't at all reminiscent of the old capitol's wilds, what eventually became the Everfree Forest.

There was too much a variety of trees. Too many flowers. Too many fields that made Sunset think they'd have been open plains if not for the park's constrictive perimeter.

It was a snapshot of ancient Equestria, Sunset was certain. A memory preserved by the mind of an eternal, recreated upon the wishes of that same mind.

Sunset closed her eyes, and beyond the black pictured the front of Big Yam's Bistro at noon. Sun shining above. Ponies in seats, chatting, as the titular Big Yam himself came around and served his customers directly.

She wondered if Celestia came here often. She wondered, had she the powers of an absolute ruler, if she'd preserve those memories too.

Most of all, she wondered if it was healthy.

Hours later, and reddish dawnlight filtered through the darkened trees. Higher up pale gold kissed the horizon on a backdrop of pink sky, scattered across it streaking amber clouds.

Starlight gave a lopsided grin, one with which Sunset had become irritatingly well-acquainted with. "Hey Sunset, loook, it's sunset."

"Mhm."

"Must be a sign of good luck, don't you think."

Despite herself, Sunset grinned back. "Shut up and let's get going."

The return trot towards residential took less than an hour. Stars twinkled faint, and Luna's Moon had just begun to peer down as Celestia's Sun had, in turn, dipped out of sight.

Sunset glanced back at the streetsign, the number on the house's front, and finally the slip of paper held in her magic. Confirming the address, she breathed in and stepped onto the porch step.

The home had little in the way of lawn or patio. It had been built like much of the other housing in lower Canterlot - diminutive, tight, long, and narrow. 'Shotgun style', the humans called it. She didn't know the term Equestrians used.

But, the owners had made the best of the restrictive space. What they could comfortably squeeze in to the concrete porch was dominated by pottery, some glazed and others plain. Planters lined the windows, filled with flowers. Any doubts she might not have the correct address vanished the moment she saw amongst them shocks of Moonstone Bloom. Against the rustic red of the clay and warm shine of sunset, their comforting blue glow seemed even more breathtaking.

She breathed in deep. Starlight beside her, wicker basket held between and in it gifts, she knocked.

Behind the door, floorboards creaked. Each hoofstep made her heartbeat quicken. They grew softer as they came closer. Then, as the lock engaged, Sunset's throat tightened.

The door swung open.

The bulky frame of a large stallion greeted her. Muzzle like a blok, his short, mussy mane and tail called to mind the color of bricks. He was certainly built like one.

His orange eyes passed over the mares, and an easy smile crept on his face. "Evenin', folks," he said, all bass and rumble, but tinged with the ghost of rural twang. Briefly, he noted the gift basket between them. "New neighbors?"

Sunset shook her head, smiling back. "No. I'm a friend of your daughter's. Moonstone Gloom?"

He nodded. "Swell. Why don'tchall two come in. Better'a talk there."

"Who is it, honey?"

A voice called from inside the house, also male, though lighter in pitch.

"Friends 'a Moony's!"

He stepped back, ushering them inside. "I'm Terracotta Glaze, fer the record. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," said Sunset, and shook his hoof. She gave him her name, and Starlight after.

Once their hooves met carpet, the door shut behind them. What Sunset presumed to be the other voice's owner entered the hallway. A thestral, she noted, with black, silver-flecked hair and deep purple fur.

Terracotta introduced the stallion as his husband, Sirius Star, then led them to the kitchen and dining room. Like the rest of the house, it radiated warmth, all red carpets, wooden floors, brown and orange walls.

They offered Starlight and Sunset seat at the table, fit for a small family. Upon the polished brown surface sat a hoof-crafted vase with Moonstone Bloom inside, at its center. Sunset took her place at the bottom, Starlight to the right side's end.

Terracotta contented himself opposite of Sunset. "So, what's that there basket ya got?"

She set it down on the table, slipping from it bottle and box. "Wine and chocolates. Just some gifts."

"Woah-ho now, you a friend of my daughter's, or a 'friend'?" He laughed, a booming sound that rattled the framework. Sirius chortled beside him, Starlight joining in.

Heat lashed Sunset's cheeks, and her nostrils flared.

As the laughter settled, Sirius caught his breath and nudged a wither leftwards, towards the kitchen. "I was cooking up dinner, if you two would like to stay."

"Sounds wonderful," Starlight said, and Sunset agreed. Nodding, Sirius returned to his kitchen post, out of sight.

"So how is it you and Moony know each other?" Cotta asked.

At that moment Sirius returned. Tucked beneath his wings he carried two wooden bowls of steaming stew, setting each down in front of Sunset and Starlight. He left, fetched two more for him and Terracotta, and finally some glasses and a pitcher of water. When everypony was seated, Sunset resumed.

"Well, it was a long time ago," she betrayed. "She and I lived for a couple years at the Royal Orphanage."

"Ahh. Yes, sure was a time ago. And what was yer name again, say?"

"Sunset Shimmer. We were kinda the only friends we had there."

"Interesting," Star mentioned. "I don't recall her ever mentioning that name, but she was always the quieter type."

Sunset's smile twitched. It took all her strength to maintain it. "Oh, yeah." She laughed, manufactured. "I remember. Say, is she around at all, or coming home from work anytime soon?"

Terracotta shook his head. "Oh no, she ain't been here for 'bout a year. Left for Manehattan to stake it out on 'er own."

Sunset's heart dropped. "Ah. Well." She made the effort to smile brighter. "Give her my regards, if you get the chance. I'd like to see her again sometime."

"Sure can do. And now, what's this wine you got here?"

Terracotta picked up the bottle, turning it over.

"Just a vintage red. Here, let me get it for you." Sunset politely took it from Cotta's grasp, and popped the cork with her magic. "Got any wine glasses?"

Sirius nodded, left and returned with four.

They spent the evening chatting, dining. The two stallions and Starlight nursed their wine.

Sunset guzzled hers.

By nine, with the bowls empty and bottle nearly drained, Sunset stood on shaking legs. "This was lovely," she said, lying. "But we should probably get going."

"Sure you don't want to stay for dessert? Sirius asked.

"No thanks. Full enough as it is, haha." Again, she lied, though only in part. It wasn't food she was full of.

Starlight gave her a look. Sunset ignored it.

Back on the porch, they gave their goodbyes. Sunset shook hooves, thanked them, did all the proper, polite curtsies, and fought the urge to smash one of those pots to fucking pieces.

The door closed, and Sunset turned on her heel, marching ahead and not giving a shit whether Starlight followed or not. For a moment her drunkeness threatened to topple her, but she managed to stay upright.

Starlight trailed in silence, her lips pinched into a thin line. She said nothing, but Sunset knew what she was thinking, and resented it.

Rather than walk the rest of the way, they simply teleported to the castle. Spell wards prevented them from teleporting directly inside, but better to slovenly stumble through the palace gates than half of Canterlot.

"Are you okay?" Starlight asked.

"Yeah. Fine."

"You sure-"

"Yes," she snapped. "Stop bothering me about it."

Starlight said nothing.

"I'm going to the archives. Goodnight."

Sunset turned the corner, not sparing a glance back.





She stood in front of the archive door. The entrance was attached to the palace only nominally, separated by a courtyard and several flights of stairs into the earth.

Without thinking, she slid her horn into the socket. To her surprise, it clicked, and the doors creaked open, acting upon their own magically enforced will. Either Celestia had never revoked her horn signature from years past, or she'd seen it well to reinstate the permission in light of Sunset's presence.

She sighed, stepping in to the darkness. Gradually, as the doors shut behind her, the candles flicked on, pair by pair. When she'd put between them and herself enough distance, they flickered out.

At the end of the hallway another door stood, this one of old wood and older iron. She undid the latch, and entered to the smell of stale air, paper, and ancient candlewax. The unique bouquet eased her, a familiar friend and, right then, the only friend she had.

She needed to read, to distract herself. Silence gave way to thoughts, and the thoughts she had now were not the sort she wanted to dwell on.

In the true archives, she had to activate her horn to see, or elsewise manually light the candles. Other than the various wards and spell-locks, Celestia forbade enchantments of any sort be used. Idle magics could be pieced apart, and influenced by the darker forces deep within.

Down several floors, weaving through countless passages lined from top to bottom with dusty, cobwebbed tomes, she located a section on ancient Equestrian history. Here, the shadows seemed thicker, almost viscous. Her fur stood on end, and the light of her horn penetrated scarce more than four hooves ahead.

She brushed past the feelings, and searched for a good read. One text stood out, as tall as she was and one hoof thick. It documented not Equestria, but the kingdom of ancient Griffonstone, when the griffons had been at the peak of their power.

For how long she read, she didn't know. She didn't bother to track the time that passed, nor did she care to.

But, eventually, lateness took upon her its heavy toll. The faint sting in her eyes, the heaviness of her lids told she should consider sleep. She ignored it and continued on.

It was only when the words blurred and she found herself reading the same passage again and again to understand it she gave in. Yawning, she stood and slid the book back in place.

Behind her, something fell with a hard thud. She jumped, froze, finally managed to turn around.

A book had fallen from the opposite wall, splayed open from cover to cover, face down. She plucked it up, and slid it back in place.

As she did, she spied movement in the corner of her vision. She jerked her head its direction, but saw nothing.

Then, she saw it.

An eye, blazing ice blue, its pupil slit, staring from the darkness.

She stumbled back, but as she blinked it disappeared. Chills raced along her spine, up and down, and the furs on her neck prickled. Heart pounding, she made her way up the stairs, assuring herself it was nothing.

She was tired. She could barely see to begin with. She'd had a stressful day, and was just imagining things.

Part running, part walking, she reached the top level.

And as she stepped through the door to leave, Sunset swore she heard laughter.
> Intermission I: A New Place
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

She fell on her hands and knees.

Crickets chirped around her, the windows from the school dark. Above, the moon and stars shone against a deep sky.

Initial instincts told her to run. To keep running, and never look back, not for a second.

A brief chill shivered down her spine. Her arms seemed colder than they should be, and she reached up to find her sleeves missing. Three years ago she'd come through with a shirt. This time, she had a tanktop.

Strange. She wondered what that meant, if anything.

Suddenly she remembered the circumstance she was under, and scrambled to her feet. It took a moment remembering how to stand on two legs, and she nearly toppled. Her gait seemed different as well, and lifting her leg to inspect she realized her shoes had changed too.

Heeled boots now, huh? Kinda neat. Also kinda hot.

Facing the statue, she balled her fists. If one of those idiot guards tried coming through the portal, she'd break their jaw and send them right back where they fucking belonged.

She watched the statue. Saw the moonlight glinting off its smooth marble surface. Waited. Any moment now, she expected to see the base part and ripple.

Nothing happened.

She sighed, releasing the burden off her shoulders. She found herself, rather frankly, a little disappointed.

Those guards always pissed her off. Silent. Stoic. Never answered a Sun-damn question unless their preeecious Princeeeess told them to, even though she was the Princess' own personal protege.

She snorted. Definitely a 'was' now.

She would have loved the chance to put one in their place. They'd be easy meat, stumbling around like a moron like she did the first time she came through. She'd already royally screwed the pooch with Celestia, so might as well take the opportunity to rough up one of her stupid guards a bit. Really twist that knife for good measure.

Celestia earned it.

She spun around, swiftly removing herself from the premises. She didn't want to get caught loitering. Loitering meant cops, cops meant questions, and they really weren't questions Sunset felt adequately equipped to handle. Lying wasn't hard, but you had to be in the right mindset to pull it off effectively.

When she reached the next block she paused, found a bench and sat down. Above her a streetlamp flickered, intermittently failing and casting her into shadow.

Knuckles pressed to her cheek, she stared ahead at a darkened storefront. Where did she take things now?

It was actually kind of funny. Part of her always knew, eventually, that she'd wind up here.

For as much as Sunset hated her guts, Celestia wasn't stupid. She ruled a large, strong, prosperous nation, and had done so for over a millennium. Nobody just casually strolled into that kind of position and survived for that long without some damn good reasons.

No. It hadn't been a matter of if Celestia unveiled her transgressions. It was a question of when.

Still. She didn't expect it this soon.

Too soon.

She needed time to prepare. To plan. To learn as much as she could about this world so she could not only survive, but thrive.

Celestia ruined that, like most things in her life.

It wouldn't stop her. She'd made it this far. Just had to go a little farther.

And she took just enough to get a head start.

Left and right, she scanned her surroundings. When she was sure nobody was around she smirked, and pulled a fistful of glittering somethings from her skirt pocket.

Her palm opened, revealing a tidy sum of gold coins. In their smooth, opulent surface, her youthful face glared back. She rubbed her thumb across, sifting the small pile.

It wasn't a lot - only five bits. She wanted more, but she grabbed what she could in the heat of the moment. 

From what little she'd gathered during her first excursion thirty moons prior, the people on this side of the mirror used a different currency - some strange greenish paper with printed number values and the faces of humans she didn't recognize. What the conversion rate would be, she had no idea, but she hoped it was more than what five bits got you in Equestria.

Until she found somewhere to exchange it, they were genuinely worthless.

Standing, she returned the bits where they belonged. The cool evening breeze filled her lungs, and far away she heard the sound of barking dogs.

If she was going to make it in this city - so called 'Canterlot' - she ought to learn it inside and out. Memorize the streets, the alleys, the districts until she could just as easily breathe them. That had been one among many mistakes she'd made back home, not using the environment to her full advantage.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

Turning the corner, she chose a random direction and stuck to it. She knew she would likely never recall the entire city with perfect clarity, but she took notes of everywhere she passed regardless. Without a proper map or at least a phone, her mind would have to make do.

She was fine with that. Whatever kept her sharp.

She came upon others with a scarcity, none of whom spared her more than a glance. She was fine with that, too.

And ultimately unsurprising. Judging by the moon's position, it must have been an hour past midnight. Beyond the limits of downtown and the realm of bars and nightclubs, if human cities were anything like ponies' they'd be dead as lead.

It wasn't too long before she approached downtown herself. The distant lights and shouting voices drew closer with every step. Wafting smells of food and alcohol made her stomach rumble, reminding her that she never did get to eat dinner.

Guess Celestia didn't think she was worth feeding. No point if she wasn't her prized pupil anymore, right?

Hot wetness touched her cheek. She ducked behind a building, and nearly smacked it off her face before she continued.

No sentimentals, Stars damnit. If Celestia didn't care about her, she shouldn't care about Celestia.

Once in the thick of things, she kept to crowds. A fact she had been smart enough to gather was safety in numbers. Herd mentality, the textbooks called it, a thorn in ponykind's side that divided the tribes whenever it flared up. She wondered if it might be the same for humans.

A few particularly inebriated men and one or two concerned, more sober women called out to her. She must have appeared strange to them, a hard-faced fifteen-year-old girl strolling by like she owned the place.

She kept walking.

Downtown ended shortly after. Either Canterlot City was significantly smaller than the real deal, or she'd gone through the short side.

With the noise and late reverie behind her, she stuck to corners and darkness. Better to not be seen, just in case. Until standing next to adults, she had forgotten how much smaller - and weaker - she was by comparison.

In Equestria, she had magic to fend for herself. Powerful, potent, precise arcana trained and honed throughout her young life. Nopony but the Princess herself and a few elite guards could step to her.

She had none of that here, no - human - combat experience.

Back to the basics, she supposed. It would make for a good challenge.

The further she tread, the higher her hackles rose. Clean, smooth roads and pavement gave way to broken concrete and pockmarked asphalt. Previously pristine glass panes cracked, others closed off by iron shutters or wooden boards. Streetlamps flickered, dimmed, or failed to work altogether.

She knew the signs of poverty when she saw them. She'd never stolen more than a fertive glance towards the uglier parts of Low Canterlot - that old goat Swan made sure of it - but she recognized everything she'd seen then, here.

"Hey kid."

Her eyes shot leftward. She'd passed a red brick alley without even realizing.

And she wasn't alone.

Her heart began to race, and she said nothing as she tried to pass.

"I said, hey kid."

The gruff, slurred voice growled deep, and before she knew what was happening a massive hand grabbed her arm. She shrieked, trying to pull away, but her boots did nothing more than scrape the sidewalk. Compared to her, he might as well have been an earth pony.

And she was a unicorn.

Without any magic.

"Get off me!"

She tried prying the fingers off her wrist. He responded by digging them into her skin, and she wondered if it might bruise after.

Assuming she survived. 

"C'mon, girl. Ain't gonna do ya no harm. I just wanna know where you're goin'. Awful dangerous out here on your own, with nothin' to defend yourself."

She glared daggers at him. His unshaven beared looked a few days old, scraggly and full of bristle. His skin felt cold, clammy, and greasy, but the worst part was his breath. A foul odor of reeking beer that stung her eyes.

"I'm nothing to you."

"That so?" He smirked, revealing two rows of stained yellow teeth. Booze, coffee, or cigarettes. Could have been all three, really.

He yanked her in, releasing his grip as she stumbled into the alley. Her back slammed against the bricks, which dug at her spine.

"'cause I'm not so sure."

She made to scamper, but his forearm pinned her waist to the wall. "Ain't ever seen a face like yours before. Some'n in your eye's older than ya look. Real pretty, too. Be a shame if someone tried takin' advantage, and I don't think either of us want that, now do we?"

Her lips pulled back, revealing a feral sneer.

"Nothin'a say? That's fine. Kid like you don't just stroll the fuck in this parta town with nothin' ta do. You got somethin', and I'm gonna find out what."

Her stomach coiled in disgust, but she didn't resist as he felt up her skirt. Eyes cast down, she calculated her best move.

He was big. Huge really, standing two full heads above her, and thankfully more general bulk than muscle, not to mention drunk.

She could take him. Just had to play her cards right.

"Holy shit," he breathed. He'd found her coins, holding one of them in the dull, sickly yellow light. In his shock, he'd removed his arm from her waist. "You gotta be kiddin' me. This for real?"

"What are you talking about."

"This!" He shook the coin, waving it in front of her. "Gold! Is this shit real gold?!"

"I... yes?"

He went silent for a moment, turning it over and over. She didn't understand what about a basic Equestrian bit would fascinate him so much, but she saw the opening.

Her bootsteps made barely more than a scuffle. By the time he looked down, she was already gone.

"Right behind you, asshole."

Instincts locked in. Before he had the chance, she moved, sweeping a foot through his legs. Caught unawares and uncoordinated, it didn't take much for him to stumble.

"Fuckin' bitch!"

He spun on his heel, nearly tripping in the process. A solid punch delivered pain to her gut, and she fell back, wheezing.

'Sweet street brawl,' Sunset thought. 'How I've missed you.'

His next blow was sloppy. Unused herself to footwork, she didn't so much dodge as she did lurch. Regardless, his punch missed the mark, knuckles slamming into raw stone. He hissed an expletive, instinctually cradling the bloody knuckles to his chest.

She took her shot.

A full-body slam knocked him face-first against the wall. She wouldn't have described the move as anywhere approaching graceful, but it did the job.

As he groaned, reaching for something in his pants, she lashed out again. Boot to the knee, make him jolt. Do it again, make him unstable. Elbow the back of his head, and he falls.

She pressed further. Another kick, shoving him to the ground. He sprawled, propping himself up with his elbows, but a sharp heel to his back and skull sent him crumpling. From there she wound her fingers through his hair, and slammed his face into the floor, again, and again, and again. 

Between the shock, the booze, and the pain, he was at her utter mercy.

Sunset smiled.

When he quit squirming, she dropped his head. She moved quickly, checking for and confirming a pulse, then flipped him over. Pink froth burbled through his cracked teeth, and she might have impressed herself if he hadn't been drunk.

"You'll be fine," she muttered. Other than the broken nose, some general welts and bruises, and bloody raw skin, she hadn't done any real damage. Nothing that would last, anyway.

Except maybe his pride.

Sunset smiled wider.

Crouching, she pried the coin from his fingers. He hadn't let it go, even during the fight.

Next his pockets. Turnabout's fair play, after all.

She didn't find much in the first. Crumpled up ten dollar bill, slightly torn. A bit of loose change. Lint. She pocketed the money, and switched to the other.

Her eyes widened, as her hand closed around a handle. She moved her thumb, and briefly grazed something cool, flat, and metallic.

With care, she eased the object out. She hadn't noticed her heart slow, but now it beat again, thumping hard at her chest.

In the grim light of the alley, her reflection glinted off the small, unpolished knife.





She didn't think it would be this difficult.

Obviously, homelessness wasn't exactly anyone's idea of a good time. But after experiencing it on Earth?

She had to give it to Celestia.

Equestria, for all its faults, at least tried to take care of its population. Exposure, crime, drugs, lack of necessities, all these were still a problem, but the Crown did its best to mitigate. Much in the way Celestia personally funded the Royal Orphanage, so too did she build and strengthen a singular program, meant to provide for and help ponies to their hooves. Plenty managed to slip through the cracks, but those were the exception.

Here, they were the rule.

In her short time, she'd witnessed more than she cared to. Clusters of tents, stretched over areas no larger than a block. Dozens or more bodies packed into cramped spaces, relying on scrap for donations, with little to no hope of recovery.

At least, in those instances, they had each other. Until someone got uncomfortable or felt vaguely threatened, in which case the cops came in and tore it down. Worse, if anyone tried to resist.

In most cases, the homeless only had themselves.

Granted, she'd be lying if she said they didn't make her uncomfortable. Bad smells, ragged clothes, unkempt, unwashed. 

Addicted.

Many times they didn't even have the mental wherewithal to know what they were doing or saying. It made a kind of sick, twisted sense. Anyone would lose it under these conditions, and if your only respite was found at the end of a bottle or point of the needle, well. That made it worse.

She'd never seen anything like it, and it horrified her.

What horrified her more, was the possibility of becoming one.

She couldn't - wouldn't - let that happen.

Sometimes, when she slept on stiff benches and jagged stairs, she thought about going home. Returning to Celestia. Begging forgiveness.

Already she missed Equestria. She missed her magic. Walking on all four hooves, a far more stable gait than these ungainly, bipedal limbs. She missed the warmth of her bedroom, the sight from her balcony, the food servants brought her, and the vast selection of books and tomes to consume at her leisure.

But she couldn't go back. Her window had closed, and even if it hadn't she wouldn't do it. Wouldn't stoop that low, and grovel before Celestia like a worm in the dirt.

This was a temporary measure. A brutal patch in her life, bridging to that ultimate victory.

Wings.

A crown.

A title.

She mused on it like a dream. 'Princess Sunset Shimmer'.

She wondered how Philomena was doing.

Within the week, she learned it wasn't a good idea napping in public. The police harassed people there as well. Thankfully, they hadn't gone after her quite yet. Encounters with authority were the last thing she needed right now. If she was fortunate enough not to be bludgeoned and thrown in juvy, they'd send her to another Sun-forsaken orphanage.

So she switched tactics, finding rest - and food - behind various dumpsters. Sometimes she ate well. Other times not at all. Somehow, through the agony in her gut and forehead, she refused to eat anything spoiled. Stale, sure, but never spoiled.

To think she'd fallen this low, it repulsed her. 

She deserved better - no - the best. The finest silk sheets, velvet pillows, satin curtains, all across a room-sized bed inlaid with jewels the price of small towns. Attended by her own servants, protected by her own guards, looked up to and beloved by her ponies.

She couldn't have that yet, but she would.

First, though, she had to survive. Survive, in order to thrive.

To do that, she needed someplace stable. Somewhere she could set up base, sleep, and study without the risk of murder - state-sanctioned or otherwise.

In the time she wasn't sleeping, she spent scouting. Mapping the city in her mind, locating all the nooks and crannies.

Closer to the outskirts, she pinned the perfect spot. A portion of the city where time had moved on, abandoning homes, apartments, and factories to decay. It reminded her of where she'd met that man, but emptier. Desolate, gray, and truly hopeless.

Or, as a few told her - condemned.

She had no clue what that meant. Superstition, perhaps. Unsafe, but she willingly took that risk. It was better than being out in the open.

The building itself was huge. Six stories tall, and half a block wide. An ugly, barren, concrete rectangle full of disposed needles, vulgar writing, and strange withered rubber tubes, filled with something she couldn't identify by sight and refused to by touch.

She took up residence on the second floor. Strategic, for a few reasons. High enough she had mild scouting advantage, close enough to ground level she could jump and escape without any harm.

By far, the public library was the most valuable resource she'd found. She couldn't just walk in though, looking and smelling how she did.

It ate the better part of a day, but she tracked down somewhere she could shower. As for her clothes, dispenser soap and hot water had to serve.

Once she was in, it took all the willpower she had not to laugh. It paled in comparison to the libraries of the real Canterlot. Even the one from her fillyhood was a story taller.

That's when she discovered computers.

Any doubts about finding the info she needed were utterly dashed. She could, with the stroke of a few keys, learn and gather as much as she could ever desire and more about this strange other world.

She swore it must be magic. In a way it was. Another science, different from the realm of arcana in so many ways, yet in others shockingly similar.

It took her some time to learn how to use them, though. Initially she'd poked and prodded the various letters with her two pointer fingers. When the other library-goers began tossing her strange looks, she made a note of how they used it - a keyboard, fittingly named - and adjusted.

She stayed on two websites, primarily. One, a vast, boundless encyclopedia of knowledge one could drown in. The second packed to the brim with videos - oddities similar to pictures, but which moved and talked without magical input. In spite of the endless, meaningless garbage on that particular one, it proved easy enough to mine for valuable information. Plenty more, she learned from simple, contextual osmosis.

Downloads. Uploads. Online. Offline. Audio, video, photo, executable files. Bugs and viruses, private networks, GPS tracking.

Had she not been Celestia's student for so long, she wouldn't have stood a cold chance in Tartarus keeping it all in. Given that, she still struggled.

But she had one problem, larger than any other.

Outside the library, she had no means of internet access.

If she was going to make it in this world, she needed that power. There wasn't any debate.

Through phones, she found out how.

But she didn't have the money. Nor an ID, birth certificate, or any reference of caregiver.

If she was going to get her hands on a phone, she had to take it.

Robbing one of their stores was not an option. They locked those things up tight. Tighter than she felt any confidence in breaking.

The pieces puzzled together, and a plan formed in her mind. After some investigation, she found her target - a little general store on the poorer side of town, seemingly undefended.

She entered at noon. The door jingled as she passed through, and was greeted by shelves of various goods, none of which looked or smelled remotely new.

The owner, a sour-looking old woman, grunted and glanced her way. She offered no greeting - or anything else for that matter.

Sunset took that as permission to peruse. To see if this place had what she needed.

It did.

Including a lack of security cameras.

With her ten dollars, she bought a cheap and reusable bottle. It would come in handy later, or when she couldn't find a water fountain.

She left, and spent the rest of her day at the library. Hours passed. Night came. She returned to the store.

She watched as the lady hobbled out the door and turned the key. She waited. Waited. Then waited some more, until not a soul but her breathed the moist summer air.

Clutching for purchase, she rubbed the dusty brick wall between her fingers. Her heart raced, throat tightened, and guts flipped.

It wasn't the first time she'd done this.

It was the first time she'd done it alone.

Taking a deep breath, she bolted.

The bottle made quick work of the glass. Given its quality, the glass also made quick work of the bottle.

Unfortunate, but she could always take another.

Boots crunched against the shattered remnants, and she worked as fast as her adrenaline-filled body allowed. Twitching hands swiped only what she needed. Gloves, pants, hoodie, mask, all in black. A flashlight, batteries, bedroll, lighter, replacement bottle, and baseball bat for good measure.

The second she was done, she was out. Her legs pumped fast, boots pounding, pounding, pounding the concrete below. Wind rushed past her ears, and all the world became a blur as her red-gold tresses turned to fire.

Tears streaming down her face, she threw her head back, and laughed.

For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, she felt truly free.

It was sublime.

When she'd passed several blocks, she kept running. When the outskirts rose into view, she kept running. When she reached her building, she kept running, and didn't stop until she was on the second floor.

There, she collapsed. The stolen goods rolled from her arms, and she let herself sprawl.

Still laughing, crying. Her chest heaved, until her voice grew to quiet giggles, and finally fell silent.

On her knees, she spread out her treasure. She only unfurled the bedroll, leaving the rest for later. They could all wait.

But she was gonna sleep well tonight. On something meant for sleeping. For the first time in two weeks.

Tonight, she would sleep like a real person. Tonight, she looked out past the building, beyond the city, into the darkness and the visible stars outside and whispered,

"It's just a stepping stone. You'll go back one day, and show her how wrong she was."





For the next couple days, she laid low. Chances that she'd been caught were slim and slimmer, but she wasn't rolling those dice.

On the third, she stalked the night, slipping between shadows and buildings like a ghost. Mask on, hoodie up, wearing her gloves and black trousers. All the while, she kept her blade close at hand.

Chances were, she'd easily find someone with a phone. They seemed a nigh universal technology, with many of the homeless she'd encountered having one of their own. Something they kept before losing everything, she guessed. Or stolen, like hers.

Sunset wasn't about chances, though. Never had been. Never would be.

So she waited for the right person. Someone to stroll along all on their lonesome, with their device in hand or eyesight.

She found her. A woman, with pearl-white skin, black-frame glasses, and a loose chocolate-brown bun.

Sunset's heart stopped. She knew a mare like that. But how could she possibly be here?

It didn't matter. She kept herself flush to alleyways, peeking behind corners and trailing the woman as she went. When she was sure they were alone, she leapt out.

"What-"

Sunset didn't reply, merely clamped a gloved fist over her mouth and shushed her. The same heartbeat she revealed the knife, letting the woman get a good, long look at the gleaming steel. The woman trembled, stifling a gasp as tears of panic flowed freely down her cheeks.

Sunset felt genuinely sorry, even if she was who she thought. In either case, she'd never done anything wrong by her. But she had to do this. What other options did she have?

Pressing the edge to her throat, Sunset's free hand gently took her purse. Initially she'd intended on swiping the whole thing, but after seeing the woman's expression she couldn't find the nerve.

She did find the phone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and slid it in her pocket. Slowly, she lowered the knife, released her grip, and fled.





Ten thousand dollars.

That's how much those bits got her.

More than enough to fuel her needs. Even if she blew a hundred per day, her stockpile would last just over fourteen weeks. Plenty time to cement her situation, and she would never be that stupid with her rations.

She spent only for necessities. Food, primarily. Without refrigeration or preservation spells, she went for canned goods. A mix of soups, beans, and vegetables to balance her diet. Water she could take freely, thank heavens, unlike everything else on this planet.

Playing close to the chest, she bought for three days maximum. Three meals per day. Nine cans total.

Averaging it out, that meant nine to twelve bucks per day. Put another way?

Enough meals to last over two years.

That assuming she made no efforts to change her situation. And she had zero intention of doing such.

Nonetheless, she required a regular, fluid income. She hid her stacks well, buried under junk and spread across various corners of the second floor. But she'd been taught the hard way that life took great pleasure in bending you over, and fucking you at every opportunity it could. She wouldn't treat this small break any different.

And so, as always, she researched.

The first thing she did to Raven's phone was factory reset. She'd have no internet service on her own, but she also couldn't be tracked. Considering she'd already committed three serious crimes within the span of a month, that was vital.

Second, she had to find a charger. Annoying thing was getting the correct type. Seriously, was it really necessary to have like a hundred of the damn things?

The answer was no, and the reason was money. Like many things back home. Like everything over here.

This time around, rather than commit a fourth crime, she relied on the generosity of strangers.

She remembered the girl that gave it to her, although she didn't remember her name. She found her at the library, reading a fanned array of clothing magazines, with a pure white complexion, coiffed violet hair, and a truly immaculate sense of fashion.

The chat had been brief. She came up, like she did to the others she spotted charging their phones. Asked if she could borrow hers, because she'd lost her own recently. To Sunset's pleasure, the girl pawned it off wholesale.

"Take it, darling," she said. "I've got more than enough back home."

Not one to look gift dragons in the maw, she thanked her and left.

She had all the tools she needed now. Phone. Charger. Internet, thanks to the library. She no longer used the computers when stopping by, using this 'Wi-Fi' - whatever that stood for, she still hadn't bothered looking it up - to download pages and articles relevant to her ambitions.

And every now and then, random things that caught her interest. Animals being cute, mostly, although she'd also grown quite partial to these so-called 'rock' and 'metal' genres.

As for making money, the obvious choice was a job. Except normal human jobs required normal human things, like background checks on a background that she didn't have. She could fake an ID or certificate, but she wasn't cozy enough yet to make that jump.

Instead, she delved into the world of organized crime. Nothing too serious, certainly not on the level of genuine gangs. She had no interest for getting wrapped up in that mess again.

Selling drugs, though? 

That she could do. On a small scale and with a close, tight-knit partnership. Lesser chances of being shot, too. Present, but lesser.

Before she could attain that, she had to make connections. Find a couple low-levels, get her instructions, and prove herself capable.

During her excursions, she made sure to wear her black hoodie - hide the identifying cutie mark. Those first few deals made her nervous, though it had nothing on her initial entrance exam for Celestia's School.

No backup muscle, no protection. Just a young teen, assisting a handful of already employed dealers where she could. The sort that would throw her to the cops or in a river if she made the slightest mistake.

The thing none of them seemed to realize about her, was Sunset Shimmer didn't make mistakes.

Turned out, that kinda word spread quick underground. Whispers of the girl with red hair, amber skin, and an iron attitude. A few reached out, but she chose just one.

Which was how she found herself here.

Sitting in a traphouse. Entry doors locked. One table between her and two men.

The first was an older gentleman, looked to be in his mid-thirties, with gray skin and spiked silver-white hair. His partner, looking to be around university age, had a tawny complexion and fine gold hair, buzzcut at the back and sides. Wearing a deep blue pinstripe and plain brown suit, she decided to name them Silver and Goldman, respectively.

While she knew neither of their names, she'd gotten the general scoop of them from deeper, darker parts of the web. The recruitment offer drew her intrigue, and the positive reports and impressions sealed the deal. Among the alternatives, they were her surest bet.

Their stares were intense. She would not have described them as unfriendly, but hard. They reminded her of stern unicorn professors at Celestia's School, except these would sooner put a bullet in her brain than her in detention.

Silverman leant forwards. Elbows propped, hands clasped to conceal his lower face. "Enlighten me once more, why it is you want to work with us. You don't even look eighteen."

Intimidation tactics. Meant to sow self-doubt. She knew this game.

"I'm not," she said, shrugging. In the early August heat she appreciated her tanktop. In this cold room she wished she owned a jacket, but she kept her face impassive. The identifier was a show of trust. "And I'm here for the same reason as you."

Goldman quirked a brow. "And what's that, precisely?"

"Money."

The older man smirked. "How much you want then, huh, firebrand? Lemme guess. Eighty-twenty. No? Seventy-thirty?"

Her expression was stone. "Depends on how much you make."

He broke into a laugh, slapping the boy's back. "Hear that? She wants to know how much we make!" His laughter died off, and he wiped invisible tears from his eye. It met her gaze again, cool as before, but the barest hint softer. "I think I'm growing to like you. Got a name, firebrand? Or can I just keep calling you firebrand." He grinned.

"Firebrand's fine," she said. "Didn't answer my question, though. How much do you make?"

Goldman thought a moment, rubbing his chin. "Per gram? Hundred on a good day. Bad day? Eighty."

She leaned away from the table, thinking herself. "Alright. How many grams do you usually sell per day?"

Let's see," said Silverman, pulling up his phone. "Besides me and my partner, we've got two under our employ, because I sure as shit am not telling you how much we're earning. As for you, how much dough you pull in depends entirely on how much product you can move. If you want an estimate, we've got a couple others under our employ who sell an average of one to two grams per day. Lows of zero, highs of ten. Ish."

The boy continued. "For a starting rate, we offer a twenty-eighty split in our favor. Prove yourself, and we can bump that up by five percent."

"And I can leave whenever I like?"

They both nodded.

"But." Silverman held up a finger. His expression darkened, and in it she saw the promise of death. "Double cross us, rope us into some street gang, or snitch to the blue?"

He withdrew an engraved, silver handgun. "I don't think I need to explain myself further." He glanced Goldman's direction. "Do you?"

"Nope."

"Another thing, we don't hand out some piddly shit like kush. Product's dangerous, and we don't wanna be responsible for another druggie. Last one OD'd before we could fill his skull with lead for stealing our supply. Do I make myself clear?"

She remembered some of the homeless she'd encountered, and shuddered internally. "Crystal. I don't take anything that fucks with my head."

That wasn't entirely true. She'd done a bit of underage drinking in the past, and she rather liked being hammered.

He grinned. "Smart girl. Anyone ever tell you that? And one last thing, you work for us. No one else. That includes yourself. We tell you where to go, what to do, and who you can speak with. Capiche?"

She nodded.

"Good! I see then we understand one another. You've heard our terms." He offered a hand. "So, do we have a deal, little miss Firebrand?"

Sunset didn't hesitate. Outstretching her hand, she took his and shook it firmly.

"Deal."

After, when she expressed an inability to purchase her own firearm, they hooked her up with a dealer. That chewed a not insignifcant hole in her funds, but the sacrifice was worth it for a little self-defense.

Besides. She fully meant to earn the cost back, and much, much more beyond.

Through the rest of August and September, she wheeled and dealed her teenage heart out.

Sculking in the unseen places, the forgotten corners, she waited for her clients to arrive. Some were goners. Others had a chance, but this was business, her livelihood; she wasn't gonna try and convince some substance-hooked junkie to get off it.

The worst were the newbies. The people experimenting without any clue of what they were getting themselves into, or the rarer sorts pressured in by peers.

No small part of her hated this. What she was doing. All that she had done since she crossed over.

Before she saw what she'd seen in that throne room, she thought she might be getting better. It had been years since she did anything unseemly.

She'd buried her nose in books, trained with Celestia, sparred with the Captain of the Guard. And one day, she believed, she would bear her own crown, and a set of glorious golden wings upon her back resplendent with shining feathers.

All it took was one block. One block removed from the tower, and her whole life came crashing down.

She did what was right. She did what she had to.

Celestia never loved her, and she saw that now, clearer than ever. She was a tool, and hadn't ever been anything more. Swung, manipulated, and when Celestia sensed resistance she tossed her in the trash.

How many students had she mentored besides her? Just one? Tens? Dozens? Hundreds, across the eras?

It was her fault, anyway. She was the one above it all. A goddess of the Sun, long-lived and profoundly wise. Yet she kept her secrets as much as anypony else, as much as her, and then turned around and tried to act high and mighty when she learned about Sunset's.

No. None of that was important anymore.

She was on Earth. On Earth, she did ugly things to survive, so that when she came home she would be beautiful.

And so she did these ugly things. Ruining lives. No doubt ending others in the process. But those would have died somehow anyway.

It would be worth it. Had to be.

She carried the gig onwards. Despite her anxieties, her first real deal went without a hitch. Ever since, she'd proved herself a highly skilled seller, and earned that quarter split on her own merit.

Clients told her employers, which fed down to her, how safe she made them feel. How polite she was. She wasn't jumpy. Wasn't an ass. She got the job done cleanly and efficiently.

If she kept this up, she could start expanding her reach before long. She could buy new clothes, better food, a fake ID. With a false ID, if she truly stepped up her game, she could snag herself one of those sleek, gorgeous, purring motorcycles.

She shooed these fantasies aside. Luxuries were nice, but not what she came here for. Keeping her head low, camp secure, and money coming was the only thing she should focus on.

On the second week of October, a late Thursday afternoon, she stood and watched at one of her usual meeting spots. Between a nearby theatre and the start of the industrial district, barely anyone came around. Too dangerous for the regulars, too close to authority for the rowdier criminals.

Perfect, for a quiet one.

Today she was scheduled to meet a particular buyer. Some woman who'd been hashing out dough to the men and their proxies for years. Silverman had warned her that she could get a bit jumpy, after being under the influence for so long, but she dismissed his concerns. She could be a hothead, but only with those whom she had emotional attachments.

The sun dipped lower down on the horizon, and she glanced at her watch - something cheap but functional she'd bought in mid-September. Quicker to catch the time, and safer than pulling out her phone.

Leaning her back against the wall, she tapped her boot. Damn chick was late.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out. Silverman made sure to position her where she could leech off Wi-Fi or hotspots.

'SM: Yo. Struck yet?'

She texted back, sighing. 'FB: 'No. Isn't here.'

'SM: Noted. Inform when struck.'

'FB: Aye aye.'

She pocketed her phone once more, and continued to wait. Another good twelve or so minutes passed before she saw someone - thin and lanky - jogging towards her.

As the figure approached, she made out more details. They were in fact a woman, though looked more skeleton than flesh. Gaunt cheeks, sunken eyes, protruding bones over which hung clothes that once upon a time might have fit her well.

Any beauty she might previously have possessed was gone. Her dull gold hair hung in limp, straw-dry strings. Her Mint green skin had an off yellowish tint, and pulled tight and rough over her body.

Sunset felt that pang in her heart again. The one she felt when she knew she was doing something bad.

"Hello." She waved at the woman, who stepped close.

At this short a distance, she noticed her mannerisms better as well. Jumpy was right. Her eyes jittered back and forth, lips twitched, and she fiddled and picked ceaselessly at her fingers. The scabs turned her stomach.

"A-a-are you... F-Firebrand?"

Sun and Stars, she sounded it too.

"Mhm. You here for the bleach?"

She nodded emphatically. "B-but-"

Ah shit, here it comes. Druggie doesn't have the cash.

She hated when that happened. Those were always the scariest, riskiest encounters.

"I-I don't... quite have enough to pay yet. Could we, m-make a deal or something?"

Sunset shook her head, folding her arms. "Sorry, but that's a no-go. Just policy. You can come-"

"Please!"

The woman took a step closer. Sunset inched back, before realizing she was already against the wall.

"L-listen, you understand, right? Right? C-come on. I'll have payment in a week, n-not even!"

Sunset unfolded her arms, standing in full. Her right hand she pressed close to her pocket, feeling the metal indent inside.

Other than target practice, she'd never had to use it before. She didn't want to start now.

"I understand, but I can't do that. It's not my decision-"

She didn't get another word out. The woman lunged fast, too fast, gripping her by the collar. Sunset was shorter, but the woman much frailer. It wouldn't take a lot to push her off.

Her breath stank.

"L-listen to me you little s-s-shit. I don't fucking care what they said. I need-"

Sunset saw the woman's hand moving.

To a pocket.

Not hers.

But bulging with a faint, rectangular outline.

"-my fix!"

Sunset was faster.

She whipped out her gun, and pulled the trigger.

Her ears popped, and a high, piercing shrill blocked everything out. Dully she heard the woman curse and scream, and Sunset didn't waste a second pushing her off.

She shouted an apology before she went, but she doubted that would do much for the bleeding hole in the woman's thigh.

Turning, she ran. Ran faster than she ever had in her life. The staccato thump-a-thump of footfall came to her senses more as vibration than sound.

She remembered breaking into the woman's store in July. She remembered how good the adrenaline felt, pumping through her system. Laughing. Crying.

Freeing.

This didn't feel very free.

Thank Sun she was by the industrial district. She had to get home, pack her shit, and hustle.

Once there, she gathered all her spare cash. Maybe all. She wasn't sure. She also didn't care. It was in the high thousands. The rest could rot.

Everything else she haphazardly tossed in her recently purchased backpack, to which she silently thanked herself for getting. Whatever it couldn't carry she stuffed down her skirt and hoodie pocket.

From there, she made a beeline to the library. Once she was in range of its Wi-Fi she shot a quickfire series of textx, unable to stop her hands from shaking.

'FB: went aouth'

'FB: bad stuff hd to usesilver'

'FB: please advise'

She hoped he would comprehend. She was honestly a little shocked she managed to keep the language so covert.

Each second that ticked by without response felt like aeons. Her heart stopped when she saw three dots, and didn't resume until the message arrived.

'SM: Noted. Will deal w/i.'

'FB: need out for now too.'

'SM: Noted. Will message soon.'

With that taken care, she resumed her flight. No time to think. Just run.

She didn't know what she'd do next, or where she'd go. Skip town, maybe? She didn't have the highest authority in the land to bail her out anymore. If she got caught, if everything she did was revealed-

Stop. Don't think. Slows you down. Run. Keep running.

The world was a blur. Several shouted as she urged her way past. She paid them no mind.

Pavement. Sidewalk. Asphalt. Concrete. Grass.

Grass?

She stopped, looked up for a minute. She saw the statue.

And kept running.

She ran westwards. To the suburbs. Maybe she'd find a bus stop along the way.

From there, she could ditch this city. A smaller population meant cheaper housing, less risk, more quiet. What if she fled the state? Put as much distance between her and the cops as she could.

She didn't see him coming. Huge eyes and a gaping mouth was all she made out before hurtling into him with her entire body, all that momentum.

They fell together. Him first, and her after, rolling onto suburban sidewalk.

"S-shit, I'm so sorry!"

She got that little out before scrambling to her feet, but he stopped her.

"Wait! What's going on, are you okay?"

For some reason, she paused. Every nerve of her was on fire, begging, screaming to turn tail and offer not a single word of response.

She didn't know why she stood still. She didn't know why tears came rushing down her cheeks. She didn't know why months of stress, buried and pushed down under sheer force of will and perseverance exploded in one furious, hideous, gagging sob.

"No," she managed, a feeble croak between the tears. "I'm not."

Slowly, he climbed to his feet, and she got a better look at him. They were the same age, give or take a year. Compared to her light orange his skin was yellow, with a thick mussy mop of electric blue hair. Briefly her eyes saw his jeans and jacket, and she felt oddly jealous.

"Hey, hey. It's alright. I'm not mad or anything."

He approached her cautiously, like she was a ticking time bomb. Given to explode at the slightest provocation.

"I- I'm sorry." She gathered her strength again. Pushed everything else down. A few sniffles and rolling tears later, her face returned to an impassive mask. She surprised herself with how quickly she managed it.

"You're fine. Well..." He scanned her up and down, hissing inwardly. "Okay, maybe not fine fine. When did you last eat?"

"Noon," she said. "I had a... can of beans."

"That's it?"

She nodded.

"I hope this isn't too personal to ask but, do your parents, like... feed you properly?"

She felt her face twist on instinct. Parents. Worthless, cruel, stupid, heartless, evil-

"No."

He opened his mouth to say something. She continued.

"I don't live with them anymore. They kicked me out."

His jaw closed. The lie had come so easy.

"Why did they..." He gestured. "Y'know. If you don't mind me asking, that is. I mean really, I understand if-"

"I..." she continued. Wringing her sleeves, she cast her gaze downwards, and played her act. But what role to take?

"I came out as bi. They... said they never wanted to see me again. I took what I could before I left, so I've just been buying canned food to make do."

His expression grew stunned, fell, then darkened all in the space of a second. "Fucking pricks. Sorry, I... hope that's okay for me to say. I just don't get why anyone would be so heartless, over something like that?"

She carved a smile. "It's fine. You're right. They were pricks."

She wasn't lying about that.

"Hey, so, look..." He rubbed the back of his head, averting his gaze. "I was heading home from school. CHS? You might know it. Anyway, uh, if you come home with me, my parents might be willing to take you in. I don't think either of them could take one look at you and shut you out. I-I mean, no offense."

She smiled. Genuine, this time. "None taken, and thank you. I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"Don't sweat it. Just helpin' out a fellow teen in need! But, uh, I don't think I caught your name." He smiled, stuck out his hand. "I'm Flash Sentry."

She looked down at the open greeting for a long, long time.

Then, she took it.

"Nice to meet you, Flash. I'm Sunset. Sunset Shimmer."
> Chapter 8 Part 1: Never Look Back
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And here we are, class," Miss Globetrot declared. "The Royal Canterlot Gardens! Oh, I just can't wait to tell you all about the history of this place." Stamping the ground with her front hooves, her enthusiasm rang clear. "Aren't you all excited?"

A collective murmur rose from the student body.

Matron Swan extended a wing. "Come now, children. Your teacher cares very much about your education. Would she have organized something like this all by herself if she didn't?"

Tinsel's sharp, piercing tone sniped back, and Sunset ground her teeth. "Who cares what you have to say. You're old!"

Her lackie, Gold Foil, joined in. "Yeah, all you do is baby a bunch of orphans!"

Swan said nothing, although Sunset saw a rare, scathing contempt pass through her eyes.

Miss Hlobetrot, however, stepped closer. Her taller, bulkier earth pony form cast a shadow above the trio. "I will not hear such disrespectful talk in my presence again. If I do, you may consider yourselves banned from this field trip."

Emerald blew a raspberry. "And?"

Globetrot snorted. "And, everypony is being assigned an essay based upon this trip. Meaning if you sit out." She leaned close. "You fail."

Swan smirked. "It should also be noted that if you sit out you won't have anything to do. The gardenkeeps will ensure you and any others are kept strictly separate."

The three blanched, quickly stammering an apology. Sunset found herself smirking with her Matron.

As for her own feelings on the trip, she'd wait and see. Miss Globetrot's lessons could be captivating, or have her falling asleep in class.

Generally, though, she thought Miss Globetrot was okay. A bit boring on occasion, but okay. She wasn't mean like some of her other teachers either, and Sunset enjoyed history all right.

Not as much as she'd enjoy magic class, though. But everypony else said she had to wait until second grade for that. They said that 'six years old is too early for a unicorn foal, your magic is barely even developed!'

What a load.

Maybe she was six, yeah, but she hadn't seen a single unicorn her age half as good. Why hold her back just 'cause she was a year too young? And come on, she was gonna start attending Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns soon. Matron Swan already entered her name for the trial lists.

...granted, by the time she passed her exam, she would already be seven.

Moonstone shot her a glance. "You okay, Sunny"

She gave a tiny huff, pawing the dirt. "No..."

"Why?"

"M'just thinking, that's all."

"Now!" Swan spread her wings, and spun around. "Let's move this train to station. You have quite a lot to learn today, but luckily you have Globetrot and I to split the burden."

Globetrot giggled. "Indeed. Between my infinite knowledge and her insightful experience, you'll have oodles to write about!"

Everypony groaned, except for Sunset.

She didn't get why they were all so upset. Essays were like, five hundred words at most. She'd seen the requirements for higher education, and that was way harder.

Framed by large white columns, the tall silver and gold gates creaked open. Towering walls of bright green leaves extended on either side, speckled with red, white, and pink roses. Wherever she saw stone, she also saw ivy and flowered vines creeping across the surface.

Passing through, they found themselves herded by tall hedges. The path itself comprised of dirt, worn down by thousands of hooves until it was packed flat.

Every now and then they saw smaller alcoves. Standing on blankets of grass, some had gardenwork, trees, or both.

Others had bushes turned into shapes, or they had stone statues. Some were simple, and some were so complex they made her head spin. Her favorites were a singing mare with roses for eyes, and a scene of three ponies battling, respectively.

For the statue, a pegasus stallion stood on the left, on his hind legs with his wings flared. He wore swirling metallic plate, and held a long pike in his grip. To the right a slender unicorn mare dodged, clad in elegant, fluttering silk robes. She fought with her magic, firing bolts as she levitated a slim blade. Between them stood a hulking earth pony, clad in leather with spiked shields strapped to either of his sides.

They stopped to examine that one, and Globetrot spoke up.

"This scene is titled 'War of the Tribes'. It depicts a period of time from ancient Equestria, when things were not as peaceful as they are now. Based on these three and the title, does anyone have an idea what inspired the image?"

A hoof rose.

"Yes, Shellshine?"

"That was back when ponies were split up! Equestria didn't even exist yet."

"That's right! Does anyone here know how Equestria came to be?"

Sunset raised hers. "Me, me! I know!"

"Psh. Orphan girl wants to be smart again. Shocker," Tinsel sneered, loud enough for Sunset to hear without attracting the adults' notice. "I guess the bat's too stupid to answer for her."

She glared, but otherwise ignored the comment.

"All the strong unicorns used to come together so they could raise the Sun, because it took all their energy. Then Princess Celestia came and did it all on her own, so the ponies followed her as a leader and made Equestria!"

She felt rather proud of herself for that one. Never as proud as she'd be of her Princesss, though.

Once or twice, she had dreams about being an alicorn too, but she knew that could never happen. Somepony like Princess Celestia was far too ancient, wise, and powerful for any filly - even one like her - to become.

"Good, good! Swan, anything to offer?"

"Yes, there is." Matron Swan swept a wing, tracing along the marble statue. "I want all you ponies to remember this and give it some deep consideration. Think about how so long ago ponykind was divided, simply because we were different from one another. Because we had abilities that others did not. They allowed those differences to rule them, and as a consequence, great conflict and suffering arose. It wasn't until our wonderful Princess came along to show how all three tribes could work together in harmony that we united as a people. Remember this, when you feel upset, angry, or superior, and know that deep down we are all the same."

"Couldn't have said it better myself if I tried. You've given everyone some thoughtful insight, I think. Now come along, ponies! We're far from done."

Gradually, the hedge maze gave way to wider, open park. Sunset marveled with Moon at the various flora - the plants, blossoms, and trees she'd never seen before or didn't even know existed.

Blossoms that grew from ash rather than soil, hot to the touch and spitting out harmless embers instead of pollen. Great trees with smooth swirling boughs with the appearance of gold and leaves like copper, but when she touched them felt completely normal. Wriggling vinestalks with pink petals that moved, making sounds like a harmony.

She wished she could run off and explore on her own, and whenever she saw an opening she had to fight the urge. Her fear of getting lost and Moonstone's laser focus were the only things keeping her from doing it.

During a lecture about one statue's sculptor, they finally broke off. It wasn't far, and Moonstone insisted she had to come see something, tugging on her leg.

A few yards from the group, she stumbled to a stop. Moonstone ushered her over, pointing anxiously towards a bed of rich blue flowers. Sunset had only ever seen that kind of blue in picture books.

"What are those?" she asked.

"I dunno. I saw them earlier, but look at this!" Grinning, Moon fly-leapt near. The petals of the flowers spread and exposed long, thin, twitching white fronds. She bounced back, and they closed again. "Isn't that cool?"

"Tch. Not really."

Their heads shot rightwards. Tinsel stood beside Emerald, smirking.

Sunset leveled her horn. "What do you jerks want?"

"Oh nothing," Tinsel chirped innocently, twirling a lock of -silver-gold mane. "Just came to see the orphan girl and her icky marefriend smelling the roses. You know we're not supposed to leave the group, riiiight?"

Moonstone whimpered. Sunset moved to shield her.

"Neither are you," Sunset hissed. "And she's not gross. She's my friend, and a pony just like anyone else. Didn't you hear Matron Swan?"

Emerald gave a laugh-snort. "What, that old goat? Like she has anything worth saying."

"Yeah. Also, that bat-thing isn't a real pony. She isn't even from one of the tribes. Not really anyway."

Sunset growled. Her horn sparked. "Remember what happened last time you tried to bully us? I can do it again."

"Will you? I mean, I get being in love and all-"

"She's not my marefriend!"

Tinsel yawned. "I get being in love and all, but you know there aren't any witnesses around, right? Just us?" She put on a face, forcing tears to her eyes. "P-please, Miss Globetrot. Sunset, she- she-" Tinsel blubbered, pouting as Emerald rubbed her back.

"We were just trying t-to see if she got lost, and she and her friend were ripping up the flowers!" She sniffled again, as she ripped several blossoms from the bush.

"No!" Moonstone leapt, grabbing the severed flower heads. "You can't do that!"

"Can't I?" Tinsel cackled, and turned her back. "You better come follow us, or we're gonna tell~"

Sunset watched the two leave, Moonstone cradling the severed cups in her hooves.

"W-why would they do that? The flowers are so pretty."

Sunset shook her head, nudging Moon's shoulder. "I dunno, they're stupid and mean. Now come on. We gotta go or they're gonna get us in trouble."

Moonstone nodded, reluctantly. Glaring at Tinsel she stood up, sniffing as she returned the flowers to their bush. All she could do was nestle them amongst the others.

"Why do they have to be so mean?" she asked.

"'Cause they suck bits," Sunset grumbled. "Get a move on. I'll be right behind you."

Moonstone nodded, doing as instructed. With her back turned Sunset glanced at the loose flower heads, and pried them from the bush's grasp. Quickly, she hid them underneath with her magic and ran after her friend.

They returned to the group, glad it hadn't moved. Globetrot was still going on about the statue and its sculptor.

"What do you think she meant to communicate with this piece?" she asked. "Anypony? Anypony at all?"

Emerald raised her hoof. "I think Sunset wants to answer!"

Globetrot's gaze fell upon her. "Is that true?"

"I, uhm." Sunset swallowed.

Gold snickered. "Maybe she doesn't. Guess she wasn't paying attention." Sunset felt her eyes. "Or ran off."

"I did not!"

Swan interrupted. "Hush, you two. Sunset, did you want to answer or not?"

Sunset looked at the statue. A prim, and proper mare tossing balls of water up high, vines twisting around her hindleg fetlocks.

"I do," she said. "I... think... she wanted to show how life is double-sided? Like, how one is nice and refreshing like water, and the other hurts and is full of thorns."

"Not quite, no, but that's a good guess. Anypony else?"

Sunset sighed with relief, tuning out the rest of the lecture. She definitely was not choosing this as her essay topic.

"Alright class, it's time to move-"

"Miss Globetrot, Miss Globetrot!"

The mare turned her head. "Yes, Moonstone?"

"I saw some really pretty flowers earlier, and I wanted to know what they were called."

"Certainly. Why don't you lead the way, and we'll have a little look-see."

'No no no, come on, Moony,' Sunset thought. 'Don't give them the chance!'

She hoped hiding those flowers was enough.

As a group, they moved backwards, to the flower bed and its brilliant blue blossoms. Miss Globetrot examined them for a moment, eyes squinting.

"You know, I'm not quite certain. They do look strangely familiar."

"I know these!" A freckled, pale green earth filly stepped up. She had shiny copper eyes and a mass of tangled forest green hair. "They grow better in the moonlight instead of the sunlight, and they glow in the dark! If you get near them like this-" She got close, poking the petals of one with her nose. "It opens up. I love them."

"How fascinating! What are these curious little flowers called?"

"Moonstone bloom!"

Sunset watched her friend's eyes go huge, pupils dilate and irises sparkle. She looked to Globetrot with a big, doofy fanged smile.

"Can I take one? Please please please?"

"I don't believe the gardenkeeps said we couldn't... Just to be safe, only take one, alright?"

Moonstone bounced on her hooves. Before she could grab one, Tinsel stepped out. "Here, why don't you let me help?"

She came up to the flowers, tilting her head curiously, before trying to shake the bush.

"Miss Tinsel, what exactly are you trying to do?"

"I, ah-" She blushed a deep red. Sunset grinned. "I-I don't know, sorry, ma'am." She shrank back, retreating into the crowd.

"Can I have one too?" Sunset asked.

"I... suppose. No more after you two, though."

The green filly looked disappointed.

Partly blocking the bush's view with her body, Sunset lit her horn. She mimed to pluck a few heads, while sneakily sliding out three from underneath. She placed two in her hair - one hidden by her fringe - and the other in Moon's.

"Okie dokie, everypony! Onto the next exhibit. I think you're going to really enjoy this one."

The tide shifted, and Sunset followed. Moon whispered a thank you before Sunset trotted up to freckle girl.

"Pst," she whispered, tapping her on the flank. When she looked back, Sunset presented one of the flowers.

She gasped, breaking into a big smile. "Thank you! I've always wanted one for my garden."

"Here," Sunset said. "Keep it hidden." And she slid the flower deep into the emerald tangle. "Isn't it gonna die though?"

The filly shook her head. "Uh-uh. Earth magic can keep little plants alive. I think there's a unicorn spell for it, too."

Sunset considered this, nodded, and assimilated with the group.

They entered a courtyard, the biggest she'd seen so far. Like the ones before it had a wide variety of shaped bushes and sculptures, a lot more of them than before.

One sculpture drew her attention more than any of the others. It loomed over them, a tall and twisted monster with mismatched limbs. Looking at it made her uncomfortable.

It was also the one they were heading for.

"Here we are," Globetrot announced. "Would anyone like to guess the origin of this creature?"

"It's a goat!" one shouted.

"But it's got a bird hand!" said another.

"And it has two wings, but they're both different!" yelled a third.

Nearby, Sunset heard Gold laugh. "Yeah, one of them's a bat wing! Think bat girl's gonna grow up into one of those?" Emerald and Tinsel giggled with her.

To her right, she saw Moon fold her ears. Quietly, she moved them away from the trio.

"Yes," Globetrot confirmed. "It has all of those things. This is what we call a draconequus. Tales tell of an ancient time long ago when many of these roamed the land, but we no longer have solid records. This is the only depiction left in modern Equestria.

"It looks creepy," one said. "And gross."

She nodded. "That is very much the point. This statue is named Discord. Does anyone have an idea what that means?"

"I know," Tinsel murmured. Sunset wasn't sure if she hadn't moved far enough away, or if they followed her. "It means ugly."

"Ugly and stupid.

"I think if that bat grows up into one of those, she'll probably look prettier. At least she'd have a cool dragon claw."

Sunset had enough.

She pushed through the cluster of ponies. Moon reached out to stop her, but she smacked the hoof away.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Quit talking about her like that?"

"Tinsel looked abashed. "Talk about who like what?"

"Yeah," Gold said. "We dunno what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Sunset gave an equine snort, pawing the ground with a forehoof. Her horn lit, and she tossed a shield block their way, shoving them backwards. "Leave my-"

"What," said Globetrot. "Is the meaning of this?"

She stood behind Sunset, casting a long and dark shadow.

Sunset turned around, undeterred. She couldn't get a word in before Tinsel started sobbing.

"She's been bullying me all day!" she whined, thrusting a hoof at Sunset. "She keeps following me and my friends and making threats at us!"

Swan stepped up beside her teacher. "Sunset Shimmer."

She glared. "It's not true, they're lying. They've been saying ugly stuff about Moonstone this whole trip. Moony, tell them!"

"I-I... I-" Moonstone whimpered, shrinking in on herself.

"They called her an icky bat-thing, and said she's my marefriend! They were saying she'd grow up to be that!" She pointed at the draconequus. Sunset immediately tore her gaze away, though not before noticing a slight, hairline fracture in the stone. "They always try to bully us all day at school, and I'm tired of it!"

The mares' gaze shifted.

Globetrot leaned forward. Sunset shuddered from the pressure. "Is there any truth in these words?"

"No!" Emerald cried. "She's a stupid meanie liar, and an orph-"

Tinsel glared at Emerald, clapping a hoof over her mouth before settling into an apologetic look. "I guess... we've said a couple not so nice things."

The mare stood back to normal height, a stern expression stretched over her face. "I see. I am warning you girls - all of you." She dwelt on Sunset." That you are on very, very thin ice. One more outburst like this, and you will be removed from this trip. Do I make myself clear?"

Tinsel, Gold, and Emerald nodded. "Crystal."

"Sunset?"

"I..." She huffed, eyes narrow. "It's not fair, what they said about-"

"I don't care. If they bother you again, you inform either Matron Swan or myself. You do not make some big confrontation, and most of all you do not use your magic to hurt another pony!"

"I wasn't try-"

Matron Swan shot her a look. Sunset withered under the gaze. "Not. Another. Word. You and I will speak about this later."

Sunset gulped, nodding rapidly. "Yes ma'am."

Globetrot sighed. "With that nonsense out of the way, I would like to continue. As I tried asking before, does anypony here know the meaning of the word 'Discord'?"

Head down, scowling, Sunset slunk back to Moonstone.

"Why didn't you back me up?" she hissed.

Moon's eyes watered. "I'm not good on the spot. You know that. You're not angry with me, are you?"

Sunset grumbled. "No. Not completely. Mostly at them." She gestured at the trio. "And them." The mares. "It's not fair. How come I'm treated the same as they are? I wasn't the one using names."

"They're kinda right though."

Sunset's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"We should just say something if we're being bullied."

"I'm not a wuss, Moony. You gotta learn to fight on your own!"

"Can we just go? I don't wanna talk about this anymore."

"Fine."

They continued on their way, and the remainder of the trip went blessedly without incident. She would not describe it as fun, however. Tinsel had ruined any fun they might have otherwise had.

On their way back, she did manage to nab another few moonstone blooms. There were six others, beyond the three they'd taken, that Tinsel had ripped out. It took finagling, but she eventually managed to hide them all in her mane and tail.

On returning home, Swan didn't say a word to either of them. She entered her office, closed the door, and let them go to their rooms. Sunset led the way to hers, as it had become their default playspace.

Moon threw herself on the bed, idly bouncing. "Anything you wanna do? I'm in a library mood, after today."

"Sure. 'Cause you know what I gotta read about?"

"What?"

Sunset grinned, spinning as she shook her head and rump. Glowing blue blooms spun out every which way. "Preservation magiiiiic!"

Moon gasped. "Sunny! We were only supposed to take one!"

"Yeah and? Didn't anypony tell you you're supposed to break the rules?"

"Not those rules!"

Sunset blew a raspberry, levitating a flower and booping Moon's nose. The head hadn't been separated long enough to die, so it opened right up and encompassed her snoot.

"Whaaaa!" Moon giggled, squirming as she scootched back. "Okay, okay! I get it."

Sunset pullled it away, beaming. "If you give me yours and I use mine, I'll have eight whole flowers to practice on."

Behind them, they heard hoofsteps approaching, wooden floorboards creaking.

"Buc- I mean, uhm. Nevermind!"

Sunset grabbed all the flower heads in her magic. The hoofsteps got closer, doorknob turning. She swivelled her head, choosing a random drawer of her desk and throwing them inside, slamming it shut.

Matron Swan entered. Her focus flicked between Sunset and Moonstone's panicked expressions.

"Are you two fillies alright? Have I suddenly become a ghost without my noticing?"

When neither replied, her attempt at a smile faltered.

"Oh well. I have no choice but to see this through. Moonstone, you don't need to be here for this. I only need to speak with Sunset."

Moon shook her head. "I wanna stay."

"This isn't up for debate. Leave the room, now." She pointed at the door, and Moon reluctantly hopped off the bed. Once the door shut, Swan looked Sunset's way.

"Sit, sweetling, we need to talk." Sunset did as asked, and Swan sat opposite. "I want you to know that I'm not angry, just disappointed. Can you please tell me what today's little... incident was about?"

She stared at the floor, drawing circles in the rough, grayish wood. "I already told you. They were calling Moonstone mean names, and I wasn't gonna take it anymore." Her voice rose as she spoke, eyes gradually rising to meet Swan's head-on. "They don't just bully her, either. They're mean to both of us, all the time. I'm tired of everypony that's older than me telling me I'm not allowed to defend myself and my friend! What's the point of standing up for yourself if whenever you try you get treated the same as the jerks who started it!"

Matron Swan listened. Intent. Careful. Cautiously, she placed a wing over Sunset's back.

She pushed it away.

"Sweetling, you need to understand. Standing up for yourself and the ponies you love is important, but there is a time, a place, and a correct manner in which to do it. In some cases you cannot handle it alone, and in those instances you be the bigger mare. Your anger and reaction is what fillies like them are after. Don't give them what they want. They'll get bored eventually, and move on to someone else."

"And how is that any better? Somepony else gets bullied instead of me? Somepony who doesn't know how to fend for themselves?"

"Listen-"

Sunset stood up, stomping a hoof. "No you listen!"

She quickly regretted her words.

Matron Swan rose to her full height. Wings spanned and back straightened, gaze cast down, she held all the regal imposition of Princess Celestia herself.

"You will not speak to me in such a way, Sunset Shimmer. I have been kind. I have been patient. I have been understanding, beyond the point at which most would be done with you and your antics. You will ignore these fillies, and that is the end of it. If I hear one single syllable so much as breathed in their direction, you can consider your entry into Celestia's School withdrawn! Am I understood?"

Sunset trembled.

"Y... yes, Matron."

"Good." Matron Swan snapped her wings to her sides, and turned to leave. She didn't offer another word before clicking the door shut.

Sunset didn't notice it open, nor Moonstone slink inside until she felt big, leathery wings wrap around her.

"Are you okay?"

Sunset continued to shake. The moment tears threatened to breach the surface, she sucked them back in, hardened her face, and stilled.

"I... I'm fine."

The lie came so easy.





She thought she'd like magic class.

She guessed she did. She liked her new teacher, Mister Crystal Ball, quite a lot.

But everything was so... simple.

She'd read all of this before. She'd done all of this before. Ever since Matron Swan signed her up with the School, she'd been studying her flank off with the basics.

Now, here, she was totally overprepared. She got As and A-plus marks with the same difficulty it took her levitating candles.

Which, going by the standards of her fellow unicorn classmates, was actually pretty hard.

On the other hoof, finally getting her grade bumped up was nice. The rest of her classes had a bit of challenge for once, thank Sun. She was also in Moonstone's grade bracket now, so they spent lots of time together.

Plus, she didn't have to deal with Tinsel's trio as much. They still butt heads at recess or in the halls, but Sunset didn't have to handle her in class anymore. Good riddance to Bubbling Brew and Cosine, too. And, as Matron Swan had commanded, she hadn't been throwing any fuss.

As for magic class, one of the main things she did enjoy was learning about the other tribes. What topics she did read hadn't covered them very well, or she hadn't cared that much and skimmed over. Now, non-unicorn magic entranced her.

Pegasus magic was the most obvious. They could fly, and she also learned how they made and scheduled the weather. That helped regulate the seasons, crop yields, and the harvest cycle. They could also walk on clouds and shape them into all sorts of things. Like Cloudsdale, a city rivaling Canterlot in its own right.

She did find it a little strange. How they got to keep their own special homes just for themselves, because they were the only ones born with the ability to navigate them?

It didn't feel very fair. She hated how much better Middle and Upper Canterlot had it, but at least Canterlot wasn't just unicorns. They had all kinds of ponies - even thestrals like Moon.

Once or twice she heard, a griffon or zebra stopped by. She'd never seen one for herself, only ever heard bad things. Before meeting Moon though she'd heard bad stuff about bad ponies too, and now a bat pony was her best friend.

At the moment, the lights were off, and Mister Ball had up a presentation diving deeper into earth tribe magic. They didn't appear to have much from what she'd seen, not compared to unicorns and pegasi, but they did have it.

"As you can see by these comparative yields, this is why earth ponies often earn jobs as farmers, botanists, and florists. Many ponies argue it's in their nature. Others believe it has more to do with the environment you grow up in. After all, if the world you know is farming, botany, and flower raising, what kind of interest or job do you think you would have?"

Moonstone, beside her, poked Sunset's wither. She raised her hoof.

"Yes, Sunset?"

"Botany, farming, and flower raising?"

"Correct as usual!"

His magical presentation switched to the next slide. On it she saw three photos - a brown pegasus with a flower pot cutie mark, a blue unicorn with a cloud cutie mark, and a magenta earth pony with a nebula cutie mark.

"Looking at these three ponies, from their tribes, colors, and cutie marks, what do you think their special talent is?"

"Sunseeeet," whispered Moon.

Sunset raised her hoof.

"Sorry, Sunset, but you've answered quite a few questions already. Why don't you give the others a shot, hm?"

Sunset sighed, slumping into her desk. The prodding increased.

"Sunset. Sunset. Sunset. Hey Sunset!"

Sunset glared, hissing," What?"

"Wanna read this cool story I wrote?"

"Not now. I'm trying to listen."

Moon continued to poke her, but she ignored it. Ball's voice came back into focus, and she was frustrated she missed the initial answer and reply.

"-destiny is not determined by your tribe. Nor, should it be said, is destiny determined by your cutie mark."

Sunset's ears perked, and she raised her hoof once more.

Crystal Ball sighed, but allowed a small smile. "I suppose asking questions is different from answering them. You are going to ask a question, yes?"

"Mhm, mhm! You said cutie marks don't determine your destiny, but I thought they were your destiny. Which one is it?"

"You're correct on both fronts, actually. Cutie marks do determine your destiny, but what that destiny means is specific to you, how you interpret it, and how it can change over the course of your life. Take mine, for example."

He presented his flank, a desaturated mid-tone blue containing his namesake.

"It can be interpreted in a wide variety of ways. Perhaps I was born to be a fortune teller - that's what I believed when I was little - or I could have become a master artificer. In my case, as I grew up, I realized my talent had something to do with both magic and the future. I discovered that I wanted to show the next generations the beauty, complexity, and fascination behind pony magic. Yet, had my life gone down a different path, I easily could have become something - and somepony - else. But! You won't have to worry about this for a while. You're all quite young, and many of you have yet to receive your own. Just remember that when you do, it's not the end of the world. Only youu can lead the life you want to lead."

Sunset didn't realize she'd been leaning forward, until the table dug into her gut. Falling back into her seat, she mulled over her teacher's words.

She'd given the meaning of her cutie mark lots of thought since receiving it. Nearly every pony with a celestial object on their flank became a master caster, and she'd never considered it being anything else.

She glanced down, looking into the swirling sun. Red and yellow, one dark, the other light.

Fascinating.

The lights flicked on and the presentation ended. She pouted, wishing she could have a little longer. Surely, in Celestia's School, they'd have longer classes, or at least more classes dedicated to magic.

"That's a wrap for today, class. Remember your homework on pegasi cloud structures is due on Friday, but before you go I have a new assignment for you all."

The room 'Awww'ed.

"Now now, you'll have plenty of time to finish. Granted, that means I'll be setting higher standards than usual. Approximately one month from now I'm expecting either a presentation or demonstration on the wide and versatile uses of cross-tribe magic. If you intend on a demonstration, you must choose someone as your project partner. Any questions?"

Moonstone raised her hoof. "Can I work with Sunset?"

"Of course! I presume you will be demonstrating unicorn-pegasus cooperation?"

She wrinkled her snout. "No. I'm not a pegasus. I've got thestral magic."

Ball rubbed his chin. "Do you now? How intriguing, I had no idea thestrals possessed any unique abilities."

As Ball turned away to address everyone else, Sunset saw Moon's back hunch and fangs bare. She reached out, carefully brushing a wing. "Is something wrong?"

A low, guttural hiss rumbled in Moonstone's throat. "I'll tell you later."

Sunset nodded, and together they gathered their things. After clipping her saddlebag to her side, she helped Moon hasten along hers. Along with the solo students they squeezed out as all the partnering ponies bickered and formed a line. Once they were in the halls and out of earshot, Sunset stopped her at the lockers.

"Soooo," she said. "What's up?"

Moon brought up her wings, partly shielding herself. Sunset recognized the posture.

"I hate living with normal ponies! Nopony takes me seriously."

"I take you seriously."

"No, I mean- That's not-" She sighed. "you're right, I'm sorry. But nopony else does! Did you hear what he said?" She put on a silly voice. "'I'm Mister Ball, I teach magic, except I didn't know thestrals had their own kind of magic! Durrrrrr.'"

Sunset's hoof came to her mouth, stifling a laugh. Collecting herself, she admitted, "I didn't know, either."

"That's different. You just started learning. He's a teacher!"

She nodded. "I guess I understand." Closing in, she pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Moony. That's super dumb."

"Yeah," Moon said, nuzzling her fluff. "Super dumb."

Sunset pulled back, and bounced on her hooves. "But y'know what that means, if he doesn't know what thestral magic is? Come on, come on!"

Moon strained for an answer, finally shrugging. "I'unno."

"It means." Sunset took her by the withers, shaking her wildly. "We get to show him! And you've got the best unicorn in class by your side, so there's no way we can fail!" For emphasis, she presented her sun-stamped rump with a wiggle.

"Yeah." Moon puffed her chest, flared her wings. "Yeah! You're right! We're gonna show his dumb Crystal Butt!"

"Uh-huh!" Sunset brought up her hoof, and Moon met it with hers. The staccato clop rang down the halls. "Follow my lead, and we'll get this done quicker than a griffon takes gold!"

After heading for next period, Sunset shook with excitement. She couldn't wait to get home and start their project. It would have a benefit in three - she could learn about thestral magic, beat everyone else in class, and show up her teacher. She did like Mister Ball, but that didn't change the fact she liked proving herself smarter than some stuffy old coot.

In other words, any adult ever.

When the bell rang they fled for home. To make returning to the orphanage more fun they played a game of tag race, with one leading and the other tailing. They drew straws to determine who stood where.

If Sunset came up short, Moon blasted off and flew ahead. To touch her, Sunset flung harmless magical orbs in her direction. If one hit, they swapped places.

If Moon came up short, Sunset ran while Moon flew behind, swooping and diving her way. To defend herself she was allowed three uses of a shield block spell, which served her well enough. Three uses was all it took to drain her reserves for a while, and they weren't full bubble shields either.

Today, she chose to dodge on her own merit. Her mana had to be at peak capacity if they were going to begin the project.

Sometimes they hurt themselves. Either Sunset would trip and fall, Moon might run into a building or against a roof, or she'd smoosh her snoot on Sunset's shield.

They didn't mind. Half the fun was the risk.

Giggling, Moonstone lunged. Sunset nearly swerved into the flickering lamp pole, in the process leaving her flank open for attack. The hoof grazed her haunch, and with little space between them and the stairs they ran together rather than swap places, windblown and laughing.

The doors opened. Matron Mayflower gave them a wide berth, calling out. "Careful, you two!"

They ignored her, hoofsteps rushing towards Sunset's room. They practically skid to a stop within, and flung their bookbags aside. Panting, tittering, it felt like ages before they could breathe and talk like normal.

Moonstone gasped, backside falling to the floor. "So, whaddyou wanna do first? I kinda need some help on that cloud assignment, or we could go to Big yam's, or or we could play buckball-"

Sunset put up a hoof. "None of those. Also we need an earth pony for buckball."

"We could ask Timber or a Matron."

She shook her head. "Uh-uh. I wanna start our project."

"But." Moon blinked her big eyes, cocking her head. "Isn't that due in a month? We don't have to start yet, do we?"

"Yeah we do, if we wanna be the best!" Sunset stuck out her lip. "I thought you were excited to work with me, Moony. Was that not true?"

Moonstone's eyes went round. She stood, shaking her head. "No, no, it is! I just... wanted to do something else first."

Sunset smiled, wrapping a foreleg around her shoulders. "It's okay, and this'll be super easy. Trust me."

Moon gave a nod. "Okay. So what now."

Sunset pulled away, hopping on her hooves. "I'm a unicorn, so I know a lot about what I can do. But what can thestrals do?"

"Weeeell." Moon tapped her chin with a wing. "If a thestral focuses really hard, we can make wind with our wings, but it's not like regular pegasi wind. Ours can turn into pictures and stuff, like like, hallucinations! Yeah!"

She took a deep breath. "My dad also said we can shape clouds like the pegasi, but we can turn our clouds darker without turning it into a storm cloud. He told me a really long time ago in ancient Equestria that thestral soldiers used big dark cloudcovers at night to do stealth attacks and-"

"Yeah yeah that's nice. I like the hallucination thing more, though. We should do that."

"Oh." Moonstone lowered her chin. "I thought we could do something with the clouds."

"Listen, Moony. You wanna dazzle those stupidheads and show them what you can do, right? Don't you wanna make Mister Ball look like a big dumb dummy for not knowing about thestral magic?"

"...yeah."

"Well, you're not gonna do that with some silly clouds! Bang, bam!" Sunset launched swirls of magic from her horn, punching the air in sync. The magic floated, drifting before bursting in a shower of sparkles. "That's the kinda stuff we gotta do!" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I bet, if we practice really, really hard, we can turn the whole room into a hallucination. Wouldn't that be so cool?"

"I mean, yeah, but that's really hard to-"

"Shush shush shush shush shush. No quitter talk. Whaddyou do when something's really hard?"

"Find something easier to do until you can do the hard thing?"

Sunset scoffed. "Plbbbbt, no! You keep practicing the hard thing, over and over, until you get it right! How do you think I can do this, huh?" She cast her shield block, a semi-transparent octagon of teal magic a size larger than her head.

"I guess you're right. That's not how I learned to fly, though."

Sunset elbowed her ribs. "Betcha woulda learned faster if you learned it my way."

"Or torn a wing," Moonstone mumbled.

"What's that?"

"Nothing! Fine, let's... start on the project, I guess."

"Tartarus yeah! That's it!"

Moonstone slapped a wing to her muzzle. "Shhhhh! Don't say that! Somepony's gonna hear."

Sunset rolled her eyes, pushing the wing aside. "Whatever. Now." She stamped a hoof. "Show me what Moonestone Gloom can do!"

Turned out, what Moonstone Gloom could do wasn't a lot.

The best hallucination she could make was the rough, half-coalesced form of a bouncing rabbit. The best environmental change she could do was make a three-hoof wide patch look a little darker or brighter.

Sunset had her work cut out for her.

They also needed to figure out how to work in the cross-tribe aspect. Reading up in the library, she discovered a strong enough ball of magic could, if taken in by the recipient, boost their natural abilities. She figured they could tackle this from a two-pronged approach. Moonstone would work on her hallucination magic - or 'dreamweaving', they found it was called - while Sunset bumped up her mana reserves and tried out the spell boost.

It started out small. She'd send little flecks of magic Moon's way, entering through her chest. Sometimes she'd miss the mark, and instead of fueling Moon's magic it would impact it, stinging her in the process. Moon didn't like the way it felt, but it wasn't that bad, and Sunset said she'd get better over time.

They both did. Moon didn't study quite as much as Sunset wanted her to, but they got their kicks in. Playtime practically fell away, and Moonstone kept bugging her about wanting to 'do something fun' again.

What was that supposed to mean? This was fun. She was just being a stick in the mud. She'd have an easier time if she practiced more anyway.

The third week rolled around before Sunset's flame sparked. They were in the middle of another session, Sunset coaching Moon on her dreamweaving skills.

"Hey," she said. "I have an idea."

"Y-y-yeah?" Moonstone struggled to speak. Sweat poured down her face, wings buffeting wildly and turning half of Sunset's room into a starry, celestial nightscape. "W-what's... that?"

"We should do a demonstration and a presentation. I can practice doing one like the ones Mister Ball shows us, after we do the dreamweaving thing."

"What?"

The dream fizzled out. Moon's wings drooped, and she panted hard.

"Are you serious? You're already making me work so hard! I don't even know if he'd let us do both."

Sunset frowned. "So what? And I'm working just as hard as you are."

'Honestly,' she thought. 'I'm working harder.'

"He gave us our instructions. Demonstration or presentation, not demonstration and or presentation! He's gonna fail us for not following directions! Teachers do that all the time."

"Not if we blow his socks off."

"He doesn't have socks."

"Whatever. If you're gonna be a snooty lazybat, I can make the presentation myself. It's not complicated."

"Says you."

"Yes," Sunset said, tilting her chin high. "Says me. When have I messed up recently?"

"Two months ago? The gingerbread competition?"

Sunset narrowed her eyes. "That was different and you know it."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"One, I didn't get enough time. I shoulda gotten first place, anyway. Nopony else had something anywhere near as cool as mine."

"Yours? It was ours."

Sunset waved a hoof. "Potato potahto. Point is we still have two weeks, and my magic boosts are getting better. If I save up my mana a few days before you'll have everything you need. Probably more!"

"Kay..." Moon sighed, lifting her wings. "I just wanna get this over with."

Sunset grinned, passing a bolt of energy through her friend. "Cool. Start again!"

At last, the final week arrived. True to her word, Sunset used as litttle magic as possible three days ahead. That same week before ending practice, Moonstone managed to encompass the whole room in her dream.

This was gonna be a snap. She might as well have that A-plus already!

On the day the project was due, they sat side by side. Moonstone laid slumped in her chair, Sunset fidgeting with her mane. Sunset decided they should be the last ones to act, to make the biggest impression.

Unfortunately, that meant waiting. Waiting meant thinking. And thinking meant worry.

Could she do this? Were her calculations correct? Did she have enough mana, and did Moon have the stamina? What if Moonstone was correct, and they'd get a bad grade for not following directions?

She tried to focus on the other students. A few impressed her, mildly. Most were standard, and another few laughably terrible.

The one team with all three tribes she liked the most. They gave a demonstration of how modern Equestria grew its food.

The earth ponies tilled the soil with their strength, blessing the seeds with their touch. To show this, they brought forward a planter with bean sprouts, and the earth colt Canyon made them bud.

Pegasi created the weather to form the seasons. A filly named Jet showed this by fanning wind and water with her wings, directed at the planter. The buds grew, pushing out from the soil.

Finally, unicorns enriched the land with magic, or enchanted tools with special properties. Another filly, Myst, cast a silver-tinged spell on the pot and soil. The class ooh'ed and ah'ed as the stalks pushed up, maturing in seconds.

It was the best by a mile.

Sunset was gonna whoop their butts.

As for the worst... There were a couple.

One presentation that went rambling for minutes, the colt talking on about 'magic and its influence over the ages', with no actual citations, direction, or forethought. No less than five times he read out definitions straight from their textbook. He didn't even mention cross-tribe magic once.

The next was a demonstration between unicorns and pegasi. The winged colt attempted to make a raincloud, which the unicorn would feed magic to and increase the size. They did do that, except she had to squint to see it.

Also, it didn't actually rain.

So, by the time their turn came up, she was feeling better. Leaning back in her chair, front legs crossed, a half-smirk on her snout.

"Sunset Shimmer, Moonstone Gloom. You're up."

Crystal Ball stepped aside, and they made their way to the front.

"Now, what are you two girls going to show us today? I remember something about thestral magic."

"Yes, we-" Moon began.

Sunset puffed out her chest. "That's correct, Mister Ball. Moonstone and I worked very hard on this project, but I don't wanna spoil the surprise." She looked to him, beaming. "Can we start?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. You seem quite confident."

"Oh, I am."

Moonstone got into position, Sunset taking her place opposite. She drew on her reserves, closing her eyes and picturing her mana in physical form.

Every unicorn looked at theirs differently. Some described it as dipping their hooves into a lake. Others mentioned plucking flowers, gathering sand, or drawing breath.

Sunset imagined fire.

The embers rose in her mind's eye. She stuck her hoof in, unburned, and drew the flames upwards. What might typically be a small blaze had, in days of buildup, become a raging inferno.

She squeezed her eyes tight, breathing hard. She had to be careful to not let it overwhelm her. If she did she could pass out, or worse.

The fire surrounded, but didn't engulf her. Opening her eyes they gleamed, and a massive, quivering ball of energy perched atop her horn.

"O-okay," she breathed. "Moony? I'm gonna send these over in chunks. I don't think I can manage it all at once."

Moonstone gulped, nodded. Sunset began to feed.

Swirling orbs rolled Moon's way, bleeding off the mother orb like floating bubbles. The thestral puffed out her chest, accepting them into her core and panting hard. Sweat began to bead on both their foreheads.

Sunset's reserves shrank. The sphere on her head grew smaller, smaller, until it disappeared entirely, and she didn't have a spark of magic to lift a pencil.

Looking to Moonstone, she saw her shake and jitter. Pupils dilated, her slits almost appeared like normal pony eyes. Her whole coat, powder blue, shimmered with sweat.

Mister Ball seemed perturbed. "I... hope this is safe, you two. Please tell me if either of you require the nurse or my assistance."

Moon shook her head. "N-no, I'm f-fine! T-t-totally fine."

Sunset's and hers gazes met. Sunset gave a single nod, and Moonstone spread her wings.

She beat them.

Again. Again. Again. Again.

The air visibly swung around her. The faster she flapped the more gathered, and soon it turned gray, dark, and finally black.

She spread them, and amorphous shapes bled into reality. A sea of glittering stars, spinning galaxies, and whirling nebulae. They spread out far and wide, consuming anything non-pony they touched.

The floor, the walls, the ceiling. Seats, desks, belongings, the window. A smothering blanket of cosmos devoured the whole space, until each and every one of them floated in the cradle of the universe.

Gasps rose from the crowd. Mister Ball's glasses fell down his nose. Murmured whispers and a few frightened words passed between wide-eyed, panicked foals.

"Can't... hold... it..."

Tears brimmed in Moon's eyes. Sunset encouraged her on, but she wasn't sure if she could hear.

"Gah!"

A gust of air left her lungs. All at once the dream fizzed back into non-being, as though it was never there.

Mister Ball shut his gaping mouth, and re-adjusted his specs.

Moonstone was drenched, mane sticking to her face. She collapsed, and Sunset rushed to her side, shaking her.

"Moony, Moony! Are you okay?"

Moon didn't reply for a moment. Her eyes seemed glassy, mouth opening and closing like a nutcracker. Weakly, she managed to whisper, "I'm... fine."

Sunset hugged her, helping Moon to her hooves. She guided her back to the desk, and sat her down before returning to the front.

"Well. Hm." Crystal Ball cleared his throat, tugging his lapelle uncomfortably. "That was certainly something. Would you mind explaining to the class what you just did?"

Sunset stuck on her prize-winning smile. "I would love to." She closed her eyes, checking her reserves once more, and was glad to find she had just enough flame left to draw upon. "In the form of a presentation."

She met the stallion's eye as she said it, winking. Her horn cast, lights turned off, and a teal-hued slide came into view.

Everyone stayed silent, Ball included, as she explained. The basics of thestral dreamweaving, and what it was capable of. Similarly, how unicorns could channel their own magic into a semi-physical form, delivering it to any other pony of any tribe to boost their abilities.

When she finished, she had absolutely no magic left. Mister Ball turned the lights on for her.

The room clapped, Ball included.

"Well, Miss Sunset, I'm honestly not sure what to say. You didn't exactly follow my directions-"

Oh no. Please, please, please no.

"-doing both assignments and all, but after that? I cannot in right conscience punish your grade, and I believe I speak for everyone when I tell you I'm blown away. A-plus, the both of you!"

Sunset's lips stretched into a broad, toothy grin. She bowed, wished him thanks, and returned to her desk.

"Class is out for the day. You may take your leave." Grunting, he sat behind his desk and mumbled, "I believe I have a new kind of magic to study..."

Sunset poked Moonstone. "Hear that?"

"Fwuh?" Moon lifted her cheek off the desk, blinking. "Sorry, I was sleeping. What happened?"

Sunset packed up both their things, clipping the bag onto Moonstone. "I'll tell you in the hall."

They left together, Moon occasionally leaning on Sunset for support. She had deep bags under her eyes, and kept yawning. "I need a nap..."

"You can sleep during recess. I'll keep watch so you can wake up when the bell rings."

"Uh-huh. What about the thingy again? Whaddid we get?"

Sunset, swollen with pride, gave her the smuggest smile she could manage. "A+. He said even though we didn't follow directions that we did so good he couldn't give us anything lower. Pretty cool, right?"

"Mhm."

"Y'know what else that means?"

"Mh."

"I was right."

Moon stiffened againstt her. The pressure on her side relented, and Sunset looked to see her moving away. She opened her mouth to say something.

Until she saw her face.

"Seriously, Sunset?"

"What? What'd I say?"

Moonstone deadpanned. "You know, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you don't take me seriously either."

Sunset sputtered. "Huh? What? What are you talking about?"

"Forget it. I'll see you later."

Sunset reached out, but Moon was already too far away. She watched her turn the corner, tail disappearing behind the wall.

Sunset stood there. Mouth open. Hoof out. Eyes wide.

Did she say something wrong? What did she do? Wasn't Moon happy they won?

...Together?

She didn't understand.