Twilight Sparkle, M.D.
Ponyville Hospital, Day 47, noon

I can still hear Sunset’s voice in the aftermath of that situation, and in those words. Not because of what she said, but because of the pure silence of the situation. The silence that can only come from the deepest of epiphanies.

“I believe that you can change, too!” Has anypony else ever told her such a thing? Judging from the stream of tears she let out then, probably not. All I can do now is wait and hope that the situation at Canterlot National gets better for her eventually.

Because I’ve decided. When Sunset boards the train back to Canterlot, I’m not going with her. The only time I’ll ever go back there is for family visits and events, not for the title I spent so many years chasing. I’ve always been a pony of my word, and the minute I told Sunset my plans, I knew I’d tethered myself to Ponyville forever. I’d spent the last few days mentally rehearsing my moment with her, making myself acknowledge this new part of my life.

Yet somehow, when I finally tell Sunset that, and with the sound of her tears in the distance, I realize that I’m not quite so sure anymore. Even as I move onto giving ponies shots, one part of my brain keeps firing alerts at light speed, telling me that I’m not acting rationally. It’s not a part of the brain that I can label, or even understand, but the feeling is there anyway.

For the first time in a week, I realize just how much I’m going to lose--no matter what decision I take.

And then I remember everything I could stand to gain, and leave those thoughts behind.

Twilight Sparkle, M.D.
Ponyville Hospital, Day 47, evening

Sunset Shimmer has chosen to extend her visit, partially so she could gather enough of her bearings to rescind her resignation, and partially so she can get to know the pony who has changed me so much. Since the feather flu shots have been such a success, Scarlet and I have been allowed an abnormally large break, which we spend sitting in Sugarcube Corner with Sunset.

A tiny smile comes onto my face once I realize that this was the place it all started. My first major case in Ponyville, and the first time I met Scarlet, all had ties to this place. Granted, that had been because the muffins gave everypony in a five mile radius food poisoning, but I don’t even think about that in the excitement of the moment. If I had, I would’ve found some way to tie it into Scarlet and I’s grand love story--brought together by baked bads. Even though the two of us have gone here several times after the incident, everything about it still seems new somehow.

“I’m beginning to see why you ditched Canterlot,” Sunset quips after a long sip of tea. “If nothing else, at least the food’s better here.”

There’s a look of sheer bliss on her face, as if sweets and warm drinks are her idea of nectar from the gods. However, it soon dies down when Scarlet shoots her a disapproving glare.

“Don’t get too used to it,” my marefriend mutters. “The last thing we need is two Canterlot National transplants here. Plus, last I’ve checked, you’ve still got your own hospital to run.”

“So really, the least you can do is stomach terrible Canterlot cuisine for the sake of your patients,” I add. “It’s basically part of the Hippocratic Oath, anyway. Do no harm to others, but perform irreparable harm to your stomach as a ritual sacrifice to the gods of medicine.”

Any fear that might have been in Sunset’s head earlier today has already dissipated, and she actually breaks out in laughter as I say this. In a truly grand show of professionalism, she even gives me a hoofbump in agreement.

“Is the food there really that bad?” Scarlet asks. “I always thought it was just some stock joke comedians made. Kinda like how we all know train food isn’t that bad, but entertainers make fun of it anyway.”

Instead of answering, Sunset and I just shake our heads in slow synchronicity, as if Scarlet is the most naive pony on the planet.

“If you know which places to avoid, it’s okay,” Sunset finally says. “But otherwise, it’s the most annoyingly boring food imaginable. Back in my college days, I actually started a fight in one of those frou-frou places because I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

As much as I’m glad Sunset put an end to that habit of hers, I can’t help but laugh a little thinking about it. The thought of an esteemed medical student using her reputation to her advantage, booking an expensive reservation, and going there just to gripe about it will probably always slay me, no matter how much this town has changed me. Unlike me, Sunset has never been the type to hide her intolerance for ponies who look down on her.

“For a minute there, I thought you were going to say you started a fire,” says Scarlet. “That’s probably the one time I’ve ever felt relieved hearing about a public brawl.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t go that far. I may have the mane for it, but that’s just impractical. Some other chef would probably build an even more intolerable place after the ashes have cleared, anyway.”

She takes an especially large bite of her cinnamon roll after saying this, and that’s probably the first sign that something’s up here. While we doctors don’t exactly cut junk food out of our lives altogether, we tend to follow our own advice about them--savor them, make sure your stomach is actually full before moving onto the next sweet treat, and so on. While she could just be pretending to be dramatic about Canterlot food, something tells me that there’s still got to be something on her mind. After all, even after all that crying, she seems to have recovered from this morning’s incident surprisingly quickly.

“But long story short,” Sunset finishes, “if you want a good meal in Canterlot, look for places that don’t have any hooves on their signs. Zero’s best, one or two is still pretty good, but three and four are what the food critics like. I swear their taste buds were swapped with dog ones after they were born.”

I’m not sure exactly when in the conversation this happens, but Scarlet eventually catches onto Sunset’s trouble, too. Before long, the entire table is filled with deafening silence, as if that in and of itself will get the yellow unicorn to talk.

“‘Cause, you know, dogs have less taste buds than ponies? Or do I only know this because I roomed with a veterinarian?”

“It’s not that,” I finally say. “It’s just...you seem to have gotten over all that pretty quickly. I want to make sure you’re really ready to go back to Canterlot.”

In that moment, I expect a variety of reactions. I expect Sunset to toss my question to the side, change the subject, deny it, do just about anything she possibly can to avoid admitting her feelings. What I don’t expect, however, is laughter.

“You really have changed, haven’t you? Earlier today, I wasn’t sure what to think when you yelled that at the top of your lungs. But I know nopony at Canterlot would’ve asked me something like you just did. It almost makes me wish more Canterlot ponies would come over here.”

And then, for once, she isn’t laughing or eating or doing anything, really. She just stares off into the distance, imagining how she feels the Canterlot ponies would have reacted. Even though she’s one of the most fearless ponies I know, I can still see panic in her eyes. I want to tell her that a lot of that fear is in herself, and that ponies have come to accept her new position, but I can’t. Because I know the truth, and there’s a deeper question on my mind.

How is it that, in a world of friendship, ponies still find it so hard to forgive?

“Look,” Scarlet mutters, “I’d ask you why you’d stayed in Canterlot so long, but I think I already know the answer. Before Twilight came, I was treated like that in Ponyville. As much as I’d like to say that I stayed because of my patients, I feel like part of it was about proving myself. I wanted to be so good, I could wipe that rumor straight out of everypony’s mouths. But eventually, even I wanted to give up. I could never surpass my parents, and I could never surpass Twilight.”

The second she says this, Sunset’s face is washed with shock and recognition. She doesn’t even have to say anything for me to know that Scarlet was able to get so much of her right without having ever been told. For all I know, Sunset may not have even known she felt this way herself.

“So Twilight shook the place up like usual?” she asked.

“The minute she came in, the director was already thinking about transferring me. I got my transfer letter less than two weeks afterwards. Just after I got that message, I learned about a hospital scam in Cloudsdale. A doctor gave foals bad pills and claimed they would help them get their cutie marks quicker. This Doctor Glimmer had already started to spread her drugs across Ponyville, so I thought that stopping her would make my hospital change its mind. But before it did, Doctor Glimmer made me an offer. She knew that my hospital would never give me a chance, and she preyed on that. And, as terrible as it might sound...part of me wanted that.”

Somehow, that statement doesn’t shock me near as much as it should. Even though it was only a month or so ago, the Doctor Glimmer incident feels so far away to me. Ever since she was arrested, it’d barely even crossed my mind. But if there’s one thing I remember, it’s the way Doctor Glimmer always had to have ponies under her hooves. It was the one and only way she survived as long as she did--once ponies started to question her leadership, everything around her would unravel.

In another time, I might have worried that Scarlet would have still tried to go back to Glimmer on the off chance the quack was declared innocent. But back then, and still now, intentions didn’t matter--as long as there was some moral compass telling Scarlet to refuse the job, she would do just that. It didn’t matter if she did it to distract Doctor Glimmer or if she had really meant it, because it was over and done. And that meant that there was only one reason Scarlet would bring it up.

“I barely know you, but I never want you to feel that desperate,” continues Scarlet. “Back then, there was a part of me that said that was the only way. But there’s always another way, and if your case is anything like mine, you’ll find something even better afterwards. Respect, and possibly even love.”

“It might take a while,” I add, “but if those doctors know what’s good for them, they’ll cooperate with their seniors. If they give you any more grief, you have an excuse to report them to Director Celestia.”

After a long moment of hesitation, Sunset finally smiles at me, the sort of mischievous smile I’ve seen from her dozens of times.

“Maybe you haven’t changed so much, after all,” she says. “What happened to the pony who gave me a friendship speech earlier today?”

“She’s still there, but she realizes that sometimes, you need something else to help you through. Like assurance that ponies will never be able to treat you that way again. But there’s just one more thing I want to ask you before you go back.”

In another life, I would have punched myself for asking such a question. But if there’s any way Sunset can stay in Canterlot, and I can stay in Ponyville, it’s one we still have to confront.

“Is it your dream to stay at Canterlot National?” I ask her.

“Wasn’t it yours?” she answers.

I thought it was, long ago, even longer ago than the Glimmer incident. It’s hard to believe that it’s only been two months, but back then, I was under that delusion. I had never questioned why I’d stayed in Canterlot. It just was. I knew that there was more to the world than my hospital, but I’d never wanted to stray outside of it.

It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t even destiny. It was a chain, linking me to a path that I’d trotted on my whole life. Once I realized that, I learned that more ponies are tethered to that chain than I originally thought. Which means that, if anypony has any hope of taking my place, they have to have a better reason than I did.

“I thought it was,” I tell her. “But when I asked myself why I wanted to stay, I couldn’t come up with anything. Before long, I realized that I mainly just stayed there for bragging rights. I’d climbed the ladder, and I’d reaped my reward, and that meant dreams didn’t matter. I did what everypony in Equestria thought I’d do from the second I started school, because I thought that’d make me happy.

“I told myself I didn’t care what other ponies thought of me, but deep down, I really did. Once I understood that, I wondered what else I was wrong about. I want to make sure I’m not wrong about you.”

“You can’t just fake it in this job,” Scarlet chimes in. “Back when Twilight first came, I had to teach her that. The chance that Director Celestia gave you has to be something that you want more than anything.”

Sunset cocks her head to the side for a moment and sits, deep in thought. I can almost see the gears turning in her head, as if she’s trying to figure out the answer to a riddle. Somehow, though, I feel like I know what the answer’s going to be, even before she does.

“Do I deserve it?”

“That’s the other thing I realized back here,” I tell her. “Back in Canterlot, they handed me the world on a platter. When ponies like you said I was the best doctor there, I believed it. I didn’t know until later that that type of talk just brings ponies down.

“Dreams aren’t about whether you deserve it, Sunset. They aren’t about what anypony else wants. They’re about you. If all of that is true, then what would you say?”

Sunset’s face contorts itself all the way back into the moved expression it had hours ago, and the second I see it, I know what she’s going to say. I know that her decision, and mine, have already been made.

I won’t lie and say I don’t miss Canterlot National sometimes. I know that I’m going to miss it even more in the coming days, but every time I do, I’ll think about what keeps me tethered to this town. Scarlet, and the patients, Fluttershy, even Rainbow Dash, if we’re really being generous. And those are tethers that I’ve made myself, that I won’t let fate separate.

“I’ll try my best to live up to your legacy.”

“Between you and me,” I say, “doing that won’t be too hard. Because Doctor Twilight Sparkle makes mistakes.”

And my mistakes have made all the difference.

Author's Notes:

One of my favorite anime of all time, Precure, sometimes closes seasons with sketch-style drawings of the characters and a message thanking the viewers for their support. I've always appreciated that little gesture, and I knew I had to incorporate it into my series one of these days. Sorry if it isn't that good--I still need a ton of practice drawing ponies.

I'd previously envisioned this part as a grand romantic finale, but so many people asked about Sunset that I decided wrapping up her story arc was more important. I think I might write a Christmas oneshot to make up for the lack of TwiHeart screentime in this. (And yes, that's what I'm calling the ship now.)

Check out the postscript in my blog tomorrow to find out more about the writing process behind this series!