My name is Sunset Shimmer, and I used to be a raging she-demon.

When I first came to this world, there was only one thing I cared about. Power. I wanted revenge after being abandoned by my former mentor—Princess Celestia—and to get it, I was willing to do whatever it took. I hurt a lot of people, destroyed friendships, ruined lives. Blackmail, coercion, violence, it didn't matter so long as it got me closer to my goal. After years of work, I finally became strong enough to get what I wanted.

But then I met a girl called Twilight Sparkle. With the magic she wielded, she could've destroyed me outright and left me to burn. But she didn't. Instead, she went out of her way to show me a side of myself that I didn't even know existed. She introduced me to five girls who saw past the darkness and helped me get back on my feet. I didn't deserve their kindness, but they gave it anyway. They changed the way I saw the world. They changed me. And I've come to regard them as my best friends.

Now, fantasies of revenge and world-domination a mostly-forgotten memory, I'm just a normal 'teenage' girl. At least, that's who I'd like to be. Years of blackmail and bullying have come back to bite me, and now everyone in this school is out to make my life absolute misery as payback.

I want to show them that I've changed—that the past is the past, and that I'm a better person now. But it's going to be a lot harder than I thought.

I was already outside when the bell rang for end of third period.

Having already finished my coursework for the year, coming into school was really just a formality. I had to sit an exam here and there, but for the most part, it was a lot of wasted time. For instance, I now had nothing to do until sixth period. It was a flawed system. I could've done it better, if I was in charge.

But I wasn't. Not anymore.

I sighed and started down the stone steps leading down to the school's front courtyard. It was pretty much a big lawn, well-kept and littered with students who clearly, like me, had nothing better to do than lounge around outside. I didn't pay much attention. Students at CHS didn't really like me. And with the way they treated me, the feeling was generally mutual.

I followed the dull, gravel path down to the school's memorial statue—a powerful-looking stone horse, reared up atop a square base with four full-length mirrors set clean into it. Impressive stonework, but then it kind of had to be, considering that the closest mirror was also a two-way portal to another world. If you knew how to use it.

I saw myself reflected in the glass, and stopped to flash myself a half-smile. I'm about five-eight, with pale-green eyes, golden skin and red-and-gold hair that falls down past my shoulders. That day, I wore denim jeans and a purple top emblazoned with a picture of a Sun—red-and-gold like my hair. And hung around my shoulders was my favourite leather jacket, studded around the collar and coming down to my thighs, with a comfortably familiar weight to it.

Is it weird to wear leather when you come from a world where cows can talk, and are sentient? It never really bothered me. That probably said something about me. Gulp.

“Hey, Sunset Shimmer.”

I saw the smile die on my face. I recognised the voice, even before I saw the reflection of the three girls coming down the steps behind me. I closed my eyes, took a steadying breath through my nose and thought non-violent thoughts. When I turned around, there was a 'pleasant' smile on my face. “Oh. Hi, Trixie,” I said.

Trixie stopped just short of me, put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. She was my height, and we looked similar in age, though we weren't really. She had sparkling violet eyes that you could just about see past her upturned nose, and lush silver hair that fell right the way down to her knees. She wore a blue school hoodie, knee-high boots and a short purple skirt that showed off her legs. And she wore it all with an impressive confidence.

She was also flanked by two other girls, wholly unremarkable, except for the fact that they were always there. I'd never seen them without her, and rarely seen her without them. They never said anything, but they mimicked Trixie's facial expressions to a tee. It was kind of creepy.

Trixie glanced over my shoulder. “Checking yourself out in the mirror? A little narcissistic, don't you think?”

'Coming from the Archbishop of the Church of Trixie,' I thought at her. Something I've come to learn is that if you want to make friends, you don't say stuff like that out loud.

I wanted to avoid a confrontation altogether, so I lied and stood to one side. “Just freshening up after gym class. Want a turn?” I waved a hand at the mirror.

She scoffed. “Please. As if the Great and Powerful Trixie needs to check whether she still looks gorgeous.” She said it even as she checked her hair and adjusted her skirt a little. I don't think she realised she was doing it. “You might need to constantly work to keep that rat's nest on your head from overflowing, but unlike you, Trixie is a natural beauty.”

I grit my teeth. “You do look pretty today,” I not-snarled. Couldn't hurt to try a friendly approach. It might work one of these days.

“...What?” she said, blankly.

“I said you look pretty. Have you done something with your hair?”

Trixie stared at me, pausing to try to figure out my game. I didn't have one, but I guess she had plenty of reason to be suspicious. “Yes,” she said, eventually, and carefully. “I grew it out.”

“I thought so,” I said. “It's a good look. You should stick with it.”

“I-I was planning to anyway!” she snapped. “I don't need fashion advice from you, Shimmer.”

I nodded. “That's true. You obviously know what you're doing. Who's your hairdresser?”

Trixie narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to get inside Trixie's head again?”

I bit back the obvious remark about there being enough room. “I'm just making conversation.”

“Well, don't! Trixie doesn't want to talk to you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Um, then why did you start?”

“Because— I— Shut up.” The fluster showed on her face. Her cronies mimicked the glare, minus the red cheeks. “You with your witty re joiners and mind games. You think you're so smart, don't you?”

'Yes.'

“No.”

Trixie gave me a 'Seriously?' look.

I put my hands out to the sides and shrugged. “I was just complimenting your hair. Sorry if you find that offensive.”

“Oh, please. You can't expect me to believe you're being nice. You're never nice. You're just making fun of Trixie again.”

“I haven't made fun of you since the Fall Formal last year.”

“Yes you have!”

“N—” I hesitated and thought about it. My face heated up a little. “Okay, maybe I have. But not recently!”

Trixie got her smirk back, having turned the tables. “Pretend all you want, Sunset Shimmer. You may have tricked those five friends of yours into believing you, but you're not fooling Trixie. You're still the same rumour-spreading, manipulative, self-serving bully you've always been.”

I lost my cool a little and stomped a foot. “I'm not! I haven't done anything like that in months, I've actually been trying to make up for everything I did. I've been nothing but kind, and I've even put up with your crap until now without so much as a comeback, haven't I?”

“No doubt just planning your next big scheme,” said Trixie. “You've always had some kind of plan to boost yourself up at the expense of everyone else.”

“That was in the past,” I said. “I don't care about that anymore. All I want now is for people to stop treating me like some sort of demon and get on with my life. My friends are letting me do that, why can't you?”

“I can't believe you even have friends,” said Trixie. She ignored the second part of the question. “They probably just feel sorry for you. Either that or they're just stupid.”

I'm not sure whether it was something in her tone or the words themselves, but that flipped a switch somewhere in my head. Any semblance of restraint I'd managed so far disappeared. I straightened up and tilted my head at her, without emotion. “Oh, Trixie,” I said, “what happened to your nose?”

“W-what?” she said, reaching up to touch it. She glanced at one of her cronies, who shrugged. She turned her glare back to me. “What're you talking about? Trixie's nose is as perfect as ever.”

“No, it looks a little out of place,” I said. “Here, let me fix it for you.” I started towards her.

I saw the realisation flash in her eyes, but instead of backing off, she squared up. A year ago, no-one ever would've tried that—they'd be petrified. But like everyone else, she'd either forgotten or just didn't care anymore. Too bad for her.

“Oh, Sunset, there you are!”

I stopped in my tracks and looked past Trixie, up the steps. A girl in a white blouse and long, purple skirt was skipping down the steps two at a time. When I saw her, my fist unclenched almost unconsciously.

There were a lot of attractive people at Canterlot High, and this girl was one of them. She had neatly curled purple locks for hair, dark, curled brows over blue eyes, and a full mouth curled up in a smile that looked good on her. Her name was Rarity, and she was one of my best friends. One of my only friends, actually.

“Excuse me, darling,” she said as she brushed past Trixie. She stopped in front of me and smiled. “Sunset, I've been looking all over for you. I need to speak with you urgently. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?”

I blinked at her, feeling the anger dissolve from my chest. The look she was giving me told me to relax, and it seemed to be working. “No,” I said. “No, Trixie and I were done talking anyway.”

“Marvellous, then come with me.”

With that, Rarity walked out of my line of fire and onto the grass. She waved for me to follow her.

I had a straight shot at Trixie again. She watched Rarity go, then met my eyes again in a silent dare. Part of me still wanted to take her up on it, but it just didn't seem worth the effort anymore, nor the month's worth of detention I'd get from doing something unpleasant. I spared her one last glance before following Rarity.

“I'm watching you, Shimmer!” Trixie called after me.

I ignored her. I felt lighter for doing it.

As I fell into step beside Rarity, she gave me a look. I let out a guilty sigh. “Sorry,” I said, “I didn't mean to lose my temper, I just—”

“You're trying, darling,” Rarity said. “Which is more than can be said for some people. I heard what she said. Honestly, I'm impressed that you managed to restrain yourself as much as you did.”

I looked down at the grass. “Wouldn't have done any good,” I mumbled. Getting drastic might've put Trixie in her place for a while, but it wouldn't do much to show that I was trying to be a better person. It'd just go to prove the things she was saying about me. The things everyone still thought.

“Quite so,” Rarity agreed. “I daresay that Trixie needs to be taken down a notch, but violence is never the answer.”

“I didn't say it was never the answer.”

“That's a somewhat unladylike opinion, but I'm sure you don't really mean it.”

I did, but I didn't feel like arguing. I found a smile though, as I looked across at her. “Thanks for stepping in.”

She smiled back. “Think nothing of it.”

We came to a stop beside one of the few trees in the courtyard. Its branches were bare, since we were coming up to Christmas again, so it didn't offer much shade. I dumped my backpack by the trunk and leant against the bark. “So, did you really have something to talk to me about, or did you just say that to save Trixie a beating?”

Rarity clasped her hands together and pursed her lips, a look that said she was expecting an unfavourable reaction, but was going to speak anyway. “Actually, I... wanted to speak to you about the Christmas Prom.”

I closed my eyes and sighed, folding my arms across my chest. This again. I managed to keep the edge out of my voice when I said, “I already told you five times—I'm not going.”

“But darling, you must go!” she pleaded. “I've made you a dress and everything.”

I looked up at her in disbelief. “Rarity, I told you not to do that!”

“I know, but you know I get carried away. I couldn't help myself! And now it will go to waste if you don't wear it to the dance.”

'Ugh, great, a guilt trip.' I shook my head and looked off to one side. “No, it won't. I'll... wear it to something else, I promise. I just can't go the Prom. I'm sorry.”

Rarity opened her mouth as if to argue, but closed it a second later. She looked away too, and in the corner of my eye, I saw her fold her arms across her chest. She didn't look huffy, so much as she looked cold. And disappointed. I felt bad, but if I rolled over and went to the Prom like she asked, I knew I'd feel ten times worse.

“Darling,” she tried, “I know it hasn't been easy for you lately. But you missed last year's Prom, and both this year's Spring Fling and Fall Formal. You're missing out on so many wonderful memories. I can't stand to see you keep beating yourself up over this.”

“I'm not beating myself up,” I said. It came out a little defensive. “Everyone else is doing that for me. How am I supposed to make new, good memories when people like that are always putting me down?” I waved a hand towards Trixie and her cronies, who were walking to the opposite side of the school yard now.

Rarity frowned at me, sympathetic. “It's a big school, Sunset—we all have people that we don't get along with. You can't let a bothersome few ruin your time here.”

“It's not just a bothersome few though, is it? Trixie might be the only one that's in my face about it, but we both know that ninety-percent of the students here still hate me.” I bit back the, 'and they're right to.' That wasn't a pleasant thought. If I didn't say it, I didn't have to hear Rarity agree with me.

“Darling, I—”

“Would you stop—” I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. I was getting way too wound up over this. I wasn't going to start snapping at my friend. “Sorry. I'm sorry.”

She was quiet for a disturbingly long time, and though I kept my eyes closed, I started reading into it. I hoped I hadn't upset her. Scratch that, I was pretty sure that I had. She was just trying to help, and none of this was her fault. It was wrong to take it out on her.

I felt a gentle hand touch my arm. It was a little cold, but I relaxed rather than tensing up. I opened my eyes with an guilty frown, and met with a smile that was way more tender than I deserved.

“I realise that you're under a lot of stress with this,” Rarity said, “but you must understand that you hurt a lot of people during the first few years you were in this world.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“I only mean that you can't expect everyone to forgive and forget in such a short time.”

“It's been a whole year,” I mumbled, with a shrug that pretended it was nothing. “And I've spent most of it apologising and trying to make amends for what I did. How much longer do I have to wait for people stop treating me like a demon?”

Rarity rubbed her hand over my shoulder. “We have, haven't we?”

“...Yeah,” I granted. Rarity and my other four friends had. And Twilight, of course.

“And what about that boy who's taken a liking to you? Bulk Biceps, was it?”

I found a smile at that. “Only because he fancies me. It's not saying much.”

“And there's my sister and her friends. Haven't they warmed up to you now, hmm?”

I grunted. The Crusaders were a trio of misfits in their second year at the school. They'd still been freshmen when I stopped my raging she-demon act, so they hadn't been exposed to as much of my bitchery as everyone else. Between that and their sisters being my best friends, it was a lot easier for them to forgive me than it was for those I'd tortured for years.

“Yeah, fair enough,” I said. “That's a grand total of ten people. Call me pessimistic, but knowing that there are only ten people here that don't hate me, in a school of hundreds, isn't much comfort.”

Rarity said, “But it shows that people are beginning to take notice. It may be only few now, but I think you'll find that as time goes on, the rest will become much harder pressed to deny that you've changed.”

“Maybe...” I shook my head again. “I'm just not sure how much longer I can keep this up.”

“Then don't,” said Rarity. She slid her hand down my arm, and took my hand in hers, prompting me to meet her eyes. “Come to Prom with us. We'll show you that it's not half as bad as you think it is. I promise you that you'll enjoy it.”

I stared at her for a long moment, searching. Maybe, deep down, I knew that she and my friends would take care of me, and that I'd probably have a good time if I just tried it. But if I did know that, it was really deep down. Right then, all I felt was a tiny glimmer of hope in a sea of anxiety. It was something, though.

What the hell. I squeezed her hand and gave her an honest smile. “I'll think about it. Okay?”

Her face brightened. “That's all I ask, darling. It's not until Saturday, so don't worry about it just now, hmm.”

“Yeah,” I said, and it felt like a little of the weight lifted from my shoulders. I had the whole week to think about it. And I hadn't committed. There was nothing to stop me from deciding not to go if I couldn't work up the courage. I was glad that she hadn't tried to pressure me into it, as I was pretty sure that wouldn't have helped. But then, I guess that was why we were friends.

I realised I was still staring at her eyes about the same time I realised I was still holding her hand. I glanced down and eased up. She let go. I quickly emoted hitching up my jacket with both hands, so as not to seem totally awkward.

Rarity politely cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair. “Well, I... really ought to be getting to my next class,” she said. “Are you...?”

I hooked a thumb towards my backpack. “Nah, I don't have anything on 'til last period. I was gonna sit out here and kill some time.”

She gave me a knowing smile. “I'll leave you to it, then. See you later.”

I returned the smile. “You too.”

“And do try not to start any more fights, hmm?” she said, as she turned for the school.

“No promises,” I said.

I watched her go with the same smile on my face, then sat down with my back against the tree and looked up at the sky. Even if I still had a dreadfully boring two hour wait before my next class, talking to Rarity had brightened me up a bit. It didn't seem so overbearing anymore.

Feeling inspired, I unzipped my bag and fished around inside. I got out a pencil and a pad of A5 paper, and started sketching. Not many people knew that I drew, because it was a casual hobby and I wasn't great at it. I found that it was a good way to pass the time though, and relaxing when I got into it.

I picked the first thing that caught my eye, and quickly got caught up in the scratching of pencil against paper. I kept glancing at the time for the first twenty minutes, but stopped caring after that.

Somewhere along the line I lost my awareness of what was going on around me, because I almost jumped when a girl said, “That's good,” over my shoulder.

I gave my sketch of the memorial statue an awkward smile. “Thanks,” I said. “It's just a hobby, but it's nice to do sometimes.” I glanced up at the girl who gave the compliment. Then I did a double-take and jumped to my feet in fright.

You wouldn't think much of Sonata Dusk at first glance. She was short, baby-faced, dressed in a generic purple hoodie, blue jeans and purple Converse shoes. She had pale skin, with two shades of blue in her fringe and long ponytail. With her hands in her pockets and the innocent, timid smile on her face, she looked about fifteen or sixteen at most. But she was older. A lot older.

And she definitely wasn't innocent.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I said, facing her fully and planting my feet. My guard had been down, but I was on high-alert now. I didn't like people sneaking up on me, least of all those who weren't actually human.

“Whoa, take it easy!” she said, raising her hands. “I'm not here to cause trouble or anything.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I said, “seeing as you were trying to take over the world with mind control last time I saw you.”

She shuffled her feet and flashed me a weak, guilty smile. “Yeah, sorry 'bout that.”

I mouthed at her, dumbstruck. She said it as if she'd just forgotten to reply to a text or something. Somehow, I got the impression that she was being genuine, too. That she thought so little of world-domination made her either very naïve or absolutely terrifying. Right now, I was inclined to think the former, but the Sirens had duped me before. Taking any of them at face value would be a stupid mistake.

“'Sorry',” I managed, eventually. “Sorry doesn't really cover it.”

'Which is rich, coming from you,' a little voice in my head reminded me. I growled at it.

Her smile wavered, and her shoulders drooped. “I know. But I really didn't come here to fight. I just wanna talk to you.” Her eyes flashed with innocence. “If that's okay.”

I might've imagined the pressure against my ears as she spoke. If there was supposed to be magic in her words, it washed over me like water on a stone. Either way, I was justifiably wary.

“What about? Because I don't really feel like talking shoes and boys with a—”

“I need your help, okay?!” she snapped, expression turning to a glower in an instant.

I blinked at her. A couple of the students closest to us in the courtyard turned to look as well.

It obviously took Sonata a moment to register that she'd raised her voice. When she did, the look vanished as quickly as it'd appeared. She closed her eyes and turned to one side, embarrassed. “I need help...”

I felt myself relax. Which surprised me almost as much as the outburst. It must've been something in her voice or body language, setting off my maternal instincts maybe. I hoped they didn't get me killed.

My voice took on a more gentle tone as I asked, “What do you need my help for? You should be asking your friends.”

“I can't,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because they're the ones I need help with.”

I tilted my head in question. “Come again?”

“I think they're in trouble,” she said, choking a little on the words. “And I don't know anyone else who might help.”

I felt, with a sudden, weary resignation, that I knew what was coming...

She met my eyes. It was only for a second, but it was long enough to see that, sure enough, there were tears in hers.

“Ohh dear,” I sighed, which about summed up how I felt. Stupid maternal instincts.

I glanced around my 'audience'—about a dozen people looking on now, probably watching and waiting for something to use as ammunition against me. I wasn't planning to give it to them, but I wasn't comfortable trying to deal with this in front of them, either. Besides, Sonata looked like she needed some privacy.

“Fine, I'll bite,” I found myself saying. I shoved the sketch pad into my backpack, slung it over my shoulder and offered Sonata a hand. I had the feeling I was going to regret it. “Come on. We'll talk inside.”