“I’ve been dreaming a lot lately,” I say, resting my hand on the warm cup of coffee in front of me.

A song is playing over the sound system, it’s a beautiful song, wordless and nostalgic and it’s so easy to get lost in it; in those familiar, dulcet voices.

“Tell me about your dreams.”

I blink away my fugue and turn back to my companion, but she’s so bright and so… much, that I can barely make out her outline, but I don’t need to see her, we already know each other, don’t we? And besides, the world is hazy and it’s so hard to focus that I decide to look back down at my drink instead.

“I dream of storms,” I reply, and I feel my head spinning slightly as I try to pick up the coffee. I pull my hand back thinking better of it, and the spinning stops.

“You’re not dreaming of storms, you’re dreaming of a storm.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What’s the difference?”

“Well it’s a specific one isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” I say quietly, “but… does it matter?”

“I should think so.”

The song is distant, but I have a feeling like someone in the back room is turning up the volume. I hadn’t realised it but it had been difficult to hear the song before now.

“That’s fair,” I reply, before furrowing my brow and looking around, suddenly realising that I couldn’t properly account for when I’d come in here. “When did we come to Cuppa’s?”

“Are we at Cuppa’s?”

“Y-yeah, we’re…” I look around, and the world is so hazy. “I think… aren’t we?”

“Well, if you say so then I suppose we must be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“You mustn’t blame yourself you know.”

I blink in confusion before turning back to them. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you, Sunset… you mustn’t blame yourself.”

“If I don’t blame myself who will?” I ask, feeling bitterness flood into my voice. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? Stealing the crown, hurting all of those people, and… Gilda…”

My head hurts and everything is spinning, the song is loud… too loud… I really wish someone would turn it down. The music is beautiful but it’s too damn loud.

“What are you looking for, Sunset Shimmer?”

“I don’t know!” I hiss, clutching my head as a dull ringing sound pierces the air. “I want… I…”

“What do you want?”

“To be… forgiven,” I say, and the music dies down a little. Sighing in relief as I blink tears from my eyes, I nod to myself. “I just… I want to be forgiven.”

“You have been.”

“THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” I cry as the song’s volume suddenly rises shuddering as the world quakes around me and lightning and thunder crash in the distance.

“I want you to know who you are.”

“I’m… I’m…” I groan incoherently as a sharp pain grows between my eyes. “I’m Sunset Shimmer!”

“Are you sure?”

“I… I just want to be forgiven!” I sob.

“I told you: you have been.”

“Then why do I still feel this way?!” I groan, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes, trying to blunt the sharpness of the pain.

“Maybe it’s not about being forgiven.”

“Then what is it?!” I say through a veil of tears as I grip my head, the ringing, pounding metronomic song is splitting my skull open. “What… what else is there?”

“Maybe what you’re really looking for isn’t forgiveness, maybe it’s-”

Her last words are drowned out, and all I can hear is the song

“A~h, ah ah… a~h ah ah… A~h ah ah… A~h a~h...”

A wordless tune crept into Sunset’s sleeping mind like a lullaby, but rather than coaxing her deeper into slumber it instead made an insistent pull on her mind, dragging her out of her comfortable darkness and into the blinding white light of consciousness. The pull was weaker at times and stronger at others, and there were periods where it faded altogether, but never for very long, and each time it began again it sounded a bit nearer and a bit clearer. Each chord and melody was like a warm hand gripping Sunset’s own and pulling her free from a tar pit of cloying exhaustion.

Whether she wanted to be or not.

Begrudgingly, Sunset stirred, and the first thing she realised was that every inch of her hurt. It wasn’t agonizing, but it was certainly noticeable. Her limbs were stiff, and mouth was dry, and it felt as though someone had glued her eyes shut sometime in the night.

“Mmm… mma…” Sunset grunted through lips that felt as though they were stitched together, and she heard faint gasps from around her.

“Oh gosh, she’s awake! Go wake up ‘Dagi!”

The sound of someone scrambling out of a chair filled the air as the feeling of soft, warm hands came to rest on Sunset’s cheek and a thumb slowly brushed over her eyes, letting her blink them open, narrowing her eyes against the sudden glare of light and groaning in pain.

“Oops! Sorry, Sun-bun, hold on!” the familiar voice said, and there was the sound of someone shuffling around for a moment before the lights went out, and only a faint illumination from behind her lit the room.

The dim light was much more tolerable, and Sunset opened her eyes again, carefully this time, to see a slightly bedraggled Sonata Dusk leaning over her.

“Hey there, Sunny-buns, good morning,” Sonata said with a careful smile. “You gave us a big scare.”

Sunset worked her jaw several times, trying to form words around her parched tongue. “G-Gil-da…?”

“She’s alive,” Adagio’s voice came from somewhere to the side, and Sunset glanced over to see the elder siren stepping into the room with a relieved look on her face. “It was touch and go for a bit, but between your infusion to her and the three of us sharing most of our magic I’m happy to say that she made it.”

Aria followed quickly on Adagio’s heels and stepped up next to Sunset’s bedside with a small paper cup of water.

“Here, drink a little if you can,” Aria said softly.

Tipping the cup against Sunset’s lips, Sunset gulped the water down greedily, coughing a little as she tried pushing herself up to a sitting position. She nearly failed, but Sonata leaned in and supported her, sliding her arms around Sunset and lifting her up gently.

“Careful, Sunny,” Sonata said firmly. “You’ve uh… got a catheter so…”

Sunset winced as she glanced around.

There were bright balloons and flowers, so many that the hospital staff had apparently added a table in to support some of them. Arranged around the displays were piles of get-well cards and well-wishing tokens, and directly by her bedside was a familiar photo album.

“W-Where…?” Sunset coughed, but the sisters caught on.

“You’re back at Canterlot General,” Adagio replied with a wry smirk, “you and Gilda both this time. You would not believe how much leverage, from both myself and that odd friend of your Principal’s, it took to get us in so we could refill your wellsprings.”

“How long?” Sunset rasped, and the three sisters shared a concerned look.

“About a week,” Aria replied. “Your Principal and her sister pulled the two of you out of a crater, and at first they thought Gilda was… well…”

“Considering the state she was in when the medivac got to her, I’m not surprised,” Adagio said grimly. “The doctors said they’d never seen a wound like it, and even we haven’t seen that kind of damage since we left Equestria.”

“W-where…?” Sunset glanced around, feeling an absurd amount of panic surging through her chest. “Where is she? Where… ‘Dagi, where’s Gilda?”

Gilda would never have left her side for a moment, Sunset knew that for a fact because she wouldn’t have left Gilda’s either. If Gilda wasn’t here then either she was taking a very inopportune bathroom break or…

“She… she hasn’t woken up yet, Sunny,” Sonata said in a gentle voice, scooting onto the bed next to Sunset and wrapping her arms around the slowly hyperventilating girl. “The doctors… they said she’s stable but…”

“She’ll wake up,” Sunset said in a harsh, hollow voice. “She has to wake up… it’s… it’s my fault she’s-”

“It’s not your fault,” Aria snapped, making a slashing motion with her hand. “You went to investigate and walked into a shitstorm by accident.”

“But I could have gotten us OUT!” Sunset cried, her voice cracking.

A second later, Sunset’s vision spun wildly and she collapsed onto the bed as she desperately tried to keep hold of her consciousness. Dry heaves twisted her stomach in a vice as her body tried to combat the sudden bout of vertigo it was being assaulted with.

All three sisters were at Sunset’s side within moments, holding onto her as she tried to balance herself out again, her vision was still spinning but it was slowly steadying out. Likewise, the pounding in her head was beginning to lessen.

“Slow down, Sunny,” Aria said firmly. “You just got out of a week-long coma, you can’t just work yourself up like that.”

“I… I’ve never felt this bad before,” Sunset gasped. “What’s wrong with me?”

The three girls shared another uneasy glance, and Sunset stared at the trio with concern.

“Girls… give us the room, please?” Adagio said in a soft voice, gesturing to the door.

Sonata and Aria held Adagio’s gaze for a moment before nodding, deferring to the once and future leader of the Dazzlings. Adagio’s gaze gave her silent thanks to her sisters as they passed Sunset by, both of them reaching out to give Sunset a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder before leaving.

Once the door was shut, Adagio pulled a chair up and took a seat next to Sunset, reaching out and taking the amber girl’s hands as she did.

“A-Adagio?” Sunset said in a small, quavering voice. “What’s wrong with me?”

Sighing, Adagio brushed a strand of fiery red hair from Sunset’s face. “It’s your magic, Sunset… you’re almost totally dry. You’re suffering from severe burnout and your body doesn’t know how to cope with it.” Adagio felt Sunset’s hands tighten around her own as she spoke. “This world… it’s so very weak, magically speaking, and… I’m not sure how long it will take for your wellspring to recover naturally.”

‘If it ever does.’

Sunset heard the unspoken words as clearly as if Adagio had shouted them. Burnout was not a small matter even in Equestria where they had doctors trained specifically in dealing with it, and specialised facilities for aiding in recovery from the condition. In a world where magic wasn’t even known beyond works of fiction?

Shakily, Sunset raised her hand and focused hard with all her might. It was just a little light, a candle-flame, that was all she was trying to make, but try as she might, no matter how hard she pushed… nothing came.

“Don’t,” Adagio said softly, closing a hand over Sunset’s. “You barely have enough in you as it is, and it’s probably all that’s keeping you from being an atrophied mess right now… don’t risk using that up, too.”

“But… I just… I just got it back,” Sunset said in a tiny voice.

“I know, and I’m so sorry, Sunny,” Adagio said in a painfully gentle voice. “We did our best to repair as much of the damage to your wellspring as we could while you slept but… it’s up to fate and fortune now to see if it goes anywhere.”

Slowly, Sunset lowered her hand. Her face was pale and bloodless as she stared down at her open palm like it had betrayed her. After several moments Sunset finally looked up at Adagio.

“I… I want to see her,” Sunset said.

“Sunset I don’t think-”

“I WANT TO SEE GILDA!” Sunset snapped as her limbs started shaking, though after several breaths she forced herself to calm down and added: “please…”

Adagio let out a defeated sigh and nodded. “Fine, I suppose if I said no then the moment I turned my back I’d be liable to find you gone from your bed and crawling on the floor.”

Sunset let out a small, hollow chuckle, and nodded.

“I’ll be back with a wheelchair,” Adagio promised as she stood up, smoothing out her skirt before walking out of the room.

Sonata and Aria stepped back in as Adagio left, but Sunset barely noticed their presence. She knew they were just being thoughtful, but at that moment the only thing she could think about was Gilda. Her world was tilted and off-kilter, it was like everything she looked at was just subtly the wrong shade, and Sunset knew it would stay that way until she was next to Gilda.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Sunset shivered as Sonata and Aria put a hand on either of her shoulders. It wasn’t enough… she loved the sisters, she really did, but neither of them was the one she needed.

“Come on then,” Adagio said from the doorway, “help me get her together, ladies.”

Between the three of them, they managed to get Sunset into the chair. Adagio and Aria had even stepped out so that Sonata could remove her IV and catheter, though Sunset was certain she probably wasn’t supposed to do that.

For that matter, Sunset wasn’t even certain how Sonata even knew how to do that in the first place.

“I used to be a nurse,” Sonata said in a quiet voice when Sunset asked, but when she said it her eyes took on a distant, haunted quality, and for a moment her hand drifted up to her neckline before falling back down as Sonata smiled up at the red-head while smoothing out Sunset’s hospital gown. “There, all done.”

“If we get in trouble I’ll tell them it was my idea,” Sunset promised as Aria scooped Sunset up and carried her over to the chair.

“They won’t argue with us, Red,” Aria replied, “Sonata is your ‘personal nurse’.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow, and Sonata laughed a little. “I mi~ght have a medical degree… or four… I lost count sometime around the early nineteenth century.”

“Either way,” Aria cut in, “between your Principal’s special friend and our financial-slash-political clout, we’ve got your papers mostly filed and, fortunately, we were able to get Sonata named as your nurse, and Gilda as your caretaker.”

Sunset nodded gratefully as she was gently deposited into the wheelchair that Adagio had acquired from somewhere. Sunset didn’t particularly care where it had come from, so long as it brought her to Gilda’s side.

Adagio took her place behind Sunset, pushing her out of her room and down the halls.

“Promise me,” Adagio said in a low voice, “that since I’m doing this for you, you’ll do your very best to take it easy.”

“I’ll try,” Sunset replied. “How… how is she?”

Adagio sighed. “Better than she could have been but… well, you’ll see.”

Sunset did not like the sound of that but she knew it would be pointless to argue, she was on her way to see Gilda regardless and, frankly, Adagio was probably right. It would be better for her to see whatever it was herself rather than hear about it second-hand.

“How is everyone?” Sunset asked, keeping her voice low as they passed through the halls.

“Well as can be expected,” Adagio replied, “and worried of course… Penny was beside herself, Octavia put on a strong face but Vinyl was probably the only thing keeping her together.”

“And…?”

Adagio sighed. “The… former Bearers expressed a lot of worry and panic over your condition, enough that I assured them you’d be fine.”

“Stretching the truth a little, aren’t you?” Sunset replied wryly.

“Not at all,” Adagio said firmly, her voice taking on an icy tone. “After all, there’s very little that’s truly dangerous about Slumbernot beyond its cumulative exhaustion, is there?”

Sunset winced. “H-How did you…”

“What you ponies call the Sigilic arts were invented by my kind, Sunnybuns,” Adagio said in a stern voice that held a hint of anger to it, “arts that haven’t meaningfully evolved since their initial creation. Meaning the Slumbernot has been around since some enterprising Siren magister decided he wanted some help pulling an all-nighter. Did you really think I wouldn’t recognise the effects?”

“I’m sorry…” Sunset whispered softly, her voice was small and subdued, and Adagio let out another sigh. “I just… the nightmares, my visions, they came every night, and every night they showed me the same thing: Gilda… being hurt.”

Adagio slowed her movement, and then eventually stopped, and Sunset could hear the faint squeak of the rubber handles under Adagio’s ever-tightening grip. Rather than looking up, she busied herself looking anywhere but at Adagio, focusing instead on the increasingly familiar-looking halls.

“And don’t say there might have been something we could do!” Sunset snapped before Adagio had a chance to speak. “You might be old enough to remember when rocks were soft but I’m a genius and a former supervillain, okay? So give me some credit! There was nothing useful in my visions, everything moved so fast that all I could ever see was wind and rain and storm-clouds, and all I could hear was thunder and someone screaming Gilda’s name like a psychopath!”

By the time Sunset reached the end of her rant she was in tears, her vision was swimming and the dry heaves had returned in full force, prompting Sonata to move quickly to her side to try and keep her stable.

“I tried,” Sunset sobbed, gripping her own sides as she hung her head. “I tried to find a way to stop it but… but it was literally my worst fear playing itself over and over and over again in my dreams every time I slept, and… I… I just couldn’t face it anymore.”

“It’s okay, Sunny,” Sonata said, reaching up to rest her hands on Sunset’s cheeks. “It’s okay… I promise, we’re here for you, we’re not mad.”

“I’m mad,” Adagio grumbled from behind them.

“Okay, well, ‘Dagi’s always a little mad, but I’m not mad,” Sonata said with a small smile, that earned a tiny hiccup of laughter from Sunset. “Even Ari’s not mad and that’s pretty impressive on a good day.”

“Hey!”

Sunset snorted and wiped at her eyes.

“I’m starting to wonder if you shouldn’t have been the Element of Laughter,” Sunset said as she took several deep, calming breaths.

“Nah,” Sonata said, shaking her head as she stood up, rocking playfully back and forth on her heels. “I laugh to hide stuff, that’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

“I… huh?” Sunset blinked in confusion at Sonata’s statement.

“Try not to think about that too hard, Sunnylove,” Adagio said quietly as she put a hand on Sunset’s shoulder. “We’ve all three of us lived far too long to have much real laughter left in us.”

“Anyways,” Aria said in a dry voice. “Ready to head in?”

She jerked her thumb to the side, indicating the simple, nondescript door that Adagio had stopped them all next to and Sunset froze, staring at the door as the siren sisters looked down at her.

“T-that’s… that’s Gilda’s room?” Sunset asked in a careful voice.

“Yeah?” Aria said, crooking an eyebrow. “Something wrong with it?”

“No… it’s just…” Sunset said softly, realising now just why the halls had looked so familiar a moment ago. “That was my room, after my accident I mean.”

“Ominous,” Adagio remarked dryly. “Or maybe Doctor Tourniquet just has a ‘section’.”

Taking a deep breath Sunset reached down and gripped the wheels of her chair. They felt different than those of her old chair and despite how much she’d begrudged its existence, she found herself missing it all the same, if for no other reason than because it had been worn in and comfortable.

Sunset tried to roll herself forward but her whole body protested loudly and painfully.

“You just got out of a coma,” Aria scoffed as she moved to Sunset’s side, smirking at Adagio. “Take it easy.”

“I just… I want to do this myself,” Sunset said. “I… it’s-”

“Just open the door,” Adagio grumbled. “Otherwise this is never going to happen.”

“I’ll take her in,” Sonata said quietly, moving next to Adagio. “You two wait out here, okidoki?” Adagio and Aria shared a look of sisterly communication before looking back at Sonata, but before either of them could speak she said: “Yes, I’m sure.”

Sonata took up Adagio’s place as Aria opened the door, and pushed Sunset through before gently closing the door behind them. Sunset could hear the faint, metronomic beeps of the ECG machine by the bed, a bed that contained the sum total of Sunset’s entire world which was, at that moment, fit to come crashing down around her ears as Sonata parked her at Gilda’s bedside.

Gilda’s breathing was steady and even, thankfully, and the blankets were pulled up and tucked around her. Her snowy hair was a ragged mop, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

“There’s something you should know,” Sonata said in an uncharacteristically serious voice. “Something about Gilda.”

“Tell me,” Sunset said quietly, not looking away from Gilda’s prone form.

“When they got to her… her arm looked like it had been struck by lightning multiple times and…” Sonata sighed and moved around Sunset to pull down the part of the blanket that covered her right side. “There, uhm, there wasn’t a lot more that could be done, Sunny… I’m sorry.”

‘Don’t look,’ Sunset’s mind told her, ‘because it’s not real if you don’t look. If you don’t look then you don’t have to see how much you took from her. You don’t have to… to…’

Sunset slowly turned her head and looked down. Gilda’s gown was tied off just below the shoulder and where her right arm should have been there was… nothing.

“Can you leave me alone with her, please?” Sunset asked, swallowing thickly without looking up.

“Sure thing, Sunny,” Sonata replied quietly, only reaching out to give Sunset’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to leave.

Only when the door had fully shut did Sunset let out the harsh, shuddering breath that had been trapped in her chest. She reached out with a single shaking hand to brush the snowy locks from Gilda’s face, trailing her fingers along the new scars that crawled up the right side of her body. From the soft curve of her neck up to the base of her jaw were pale bolts of lightning drawn in jagged, arching Lichtenberg figures.

A memento of Sunset’s failure.

“I’m sorry,” Sunset whispered quietly into the dark room. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you… I tried… but I’m not like Twilight or any of the others… I’m not a hero.” Tears began trickling down Sunset’s cheeks as she traced a finger over Gilda’s cheeks and across her soft lips that Sunset knew so well. “Heroes win, bad guys lose, but what happens when it’s two bad guys fighting? Who wins? Or do we just destroy each other?”

Sighing, Sunset ran her hand gently through Gilda’s hair.

“Maybe that’s what’s meant to happen,” Sunset mused. “I wish…” her words were interrupted by a harsh hiccup as hot tears began pouring in earnest down her face, “I wish I were a hero… I wish I was stronger… I wish… I wish I could have kept you safe.”

Sunset let out a strangled sob as she lowered her head to rest against Gilda’s shoulder, shuddering at the way it terminated unnaturally, and let her tears soak into the uncomfortable hospital gown. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around Gilda, pulling herself closer as she buried her face against the warm shoulder that had taken so many of her tears over the months they’d been together. With infinite care, Sunset reached out and took Gilda’s unmoving hand and drew it over to rest across her back so she could feel Gilda’s touch, her strength, at least a little.

“Part of me says I should leave,” Sunset sobbed, mumbling her words against Gilda’s chest. “That this is my fault and if I just go away you’ll be okay but…”

A faint pressure distracted Sunset from her words. Gilda’s arm had moved, and her hand was curling around Sunset’s side. Glancing up in shock, Sunset searched Gilda’s face for signs of consciousness.

There was nothing. She was still asleep.

And yet…

Sniffling, Sunset smiled a little. “I remember our promise…” she said softly. “I will never give up on you, Gilda Grimfeather, not in a thousand years, and not in all the turnings of the sun and moon.”

Breathing out slowly, Sunset curled against Gilda and sighed. No matter how it would be, no matter how painful, Sunset resolved to be there for every moment of Gilda’s pain when she woke up just like Gilda had been for her.

Several hours passed, with the Sirens periodically checking in and one frantic moment of Doctor Tourniquet grumpily discovering his comatose patient had not only woken up but been moved without his say-so, only being mollified by Sonata’s presence and promise to look after Sunset. It was late into the evening when a knock came at the door to the hospital room, drawing Sunset’s gaze over as she sleepily blinked away the weariness from her eyes.

“Who is it?” Sunset croaked.

The door creaked open and, for a moment, panic and terror spiked through Sunset’s heart as Twilight Sparkle stepped into the room. Intellectually she knew that this was not the one from the meadow, that this was her friend, the Princess of Friendship, the one who had reached out to her at her lowest and pulled her into the daylight.

“Sunset?” Twilight said softly.

Biting her lip, Sunset swallowed back her fear response and calmed her breathing, nodding silently to herself. She would not let fear control her like that, not now, not when Gilda needed her more than ever.

“Hey Sparkle,” Sunset said weakly, trying to grin, “s’been a minute.”

Twilight gave Sunset a gentle smile as she stepped into the room, over to Sunset’s side, and knelt down to wrap Sunset in a warm embrace.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Twilight whispered.

Of all things, that was what did it.

Sunset let out a strangled hiccough as violent shudders rolled through her body, and suddenly her face was buried against Twilight’s shoulder and she was bawling as she wrapped her own arms around Twilight and held on tight. Through it all, Twilight made soft cooing sounds, gentle wordless noises of reassurance, not talking, just waiting and riding out the storm with Sunset.

“I broke her, Twi’!” Sunset sobbed. “Look what I did to her! Look what I… I…” Sunset’s words drowned under a wave of grief as she pressed her face back into Twilight’s embrace. “How will she ever forgive me? I’m gonna lose her!”

“You won’t lose her,” Twilight assured Sunset gently. “Gilda isn’t the type of person who would ever, ever hold this against you, especially since it wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my fault! I made the wrong call, Twi’,” Sunset moaned miserably, covering her face with her hands and shaking. “I was the one who wanted to go there… I was the one who made the call to go in without waiting for anyone else, it’s all my fault!”

“You couldn’t have known,” Twilight said sternly. “I spoke to the Principal and her sister, and both of them agree it was the right call to make at the time, you couldn’t have known how it was going to turn out, you’re not-”

“NOT WHAT?!” Sunset snapped. “Not a seer?! Because apparently, I am!”

“-not omniscient,” Twilight finished with a sigh. “There is no form of divining that’s perfectly accurate. You could see a whole set of events in a vision and when it comes to pass only half of it actually occurs!”

“Then what’s the point?!” Sunset cried.

Twilight shook her head and sighed. “I… I don’t know if there is a point,” she admitted. “To any of this…”

“Nice pep talk,” Sunset grumbled.

“That’s not what I mean,” Twilight replied quietly. “When I was Celestia’s student I was convinced I had to make every second mean something, that every moment I spent not studying or bettering myself was wasted because the Princess of the Sun had taken me, the daughter of a very minor noble family, in as her personal pupil and that I needed to live up to that, to whatever plan she had for me.” Twilight pulled away from Sunset slightly, dragging a chair from the other side of the room over to her with her magic, and sat down. “Even after the redemption of Luna and so many other things, I was convinced I had to keep… I don’t know… living up to her expectations.”

“What changed?” Sunset asked, keeping her voice low.

“I ascended,” Twilight answered in a soft, distant voice. “And suddenly I was the Princess… suddenly I was the one with a student trying to live up to my expectations, I was the one who supposedly had a plan, and… my point is this: our world… this one and Equestria? I don’t think there’s a point to anything, and there certainly isn’t a plan as far as I know… there’s just us… ponies, humans… we’re just stuck here trying to do our best.”

Sunset grimaced as she looked over Gilda’s gently breathing, prone form. “That’s kind of a horrifying thought.”

“Is it?” Twilight asked, meeting Sunset’s cyan gaze. “I thought so too at first but… now I’m not so sure.”

“But if there’s no plan-” Sunset started.

“Who says this mythical ‘plan’ would’ve been a good plan to begin with?” Twilight cut through, meeting Sunset’s gaze and causing the redhead to clam up. “There are so many different people in our worlds, so many dreams, and bonds, and friendships, and… so, so much more than one plan could possibly account for!” Twilight’s features softened as she turned, reached out and put a hand on Gilda’s shoulder. “Gilda was willing to fight and die for you, and not because she thought it was part of some plan, but because you,” Twilight looked pointedly at Sunset, “are you.”

Sunset gripped the edges of the wheelchair hard, not meeting Twilight’s gaze but instead staring down at Gilda.

“I love her so much, Twi,” Sunset said quietly. “I love her so much that it hurts… and when she gets hurt it feels like I’m dying inside.”

“I think… I think that might just be part of falling in love,” Twilight replied gently, laying a hand over Sunset’s. “When you let someone that far into your heart… how could you help but feel all of their pain?”

“She’s worth it,” Sunset said in an iron-hard voice. “Any amount of pain… whatever it takes… she’s worth it.”

Twilight nodded, seeming relieved as she settled back into her chair and looked over Gilda. She knew where Sunset was coming from and Twilight knew that if any of her friends had been put in Gilda’s condition it would have been killing her, especially if she thought it was her fault.

“You know, a part of me was afraid you’d put distance between the two of you to try and keep her safe…” Twilight admitted. “I’m a little ashamed that I thought it, but I’m glad you aren’t trying to run away.”

Sunset just chuckled dryly, wiping her eyes as she stared down at Gilda. It was as if she could hear her girlfriend’s voice in that very moment and Sunset knew what she had to do: Sunset met Twilight’s gaze with a sardonic grin and gestured down at her legs.

“Well, I mean, yeah.”

The small metal spoon clattered to the floor of the living room, followed by a vicious string of colorful oaths as Zee weakly pounded her fist against the pile of comforters and duvets covering her body. Shivering, she burrowed deeper into them as Rainbow Dash knelt and picked the spoon back up, wiped it off, and calmly set it back down on the platter of the folding tray that sat before the angry, white-haired girl, alongside the bowl of soup it belonged to.

“Don’t sweat it, Zee,” Dash said with an encouraging grin. “You’re getting better.”

Zee scowled as she reached out again with her right hand, as her left was covered in something that looked like paper mache and smelled like someone dumped a hundred pounds of potpourri into a fairground port-a-potty on a hot summer day. In fact, her entire left side, for the most part, was covered with the odd slurry mixture, along with a good portion of her torso and half of her face. Her father had told her it would help with the burns, and he was right in that they no longer hurt horribly, but Zee was seriously starting to question if it was worth it to endure the stink.

Combining that with the fact that ever since her pops had brought her back from the brink she’d been weak as a kitten and it all left Zee in an especially foul mood.

One that Rainbow had been enduring with a surprising amount of patience and more grace than anyone had expected.

Letting out a slow breath, Zee closed her fingers around the spoon again but, like always, it was as if she had no strength in her. The moment she tightened her muscles to form a grip her hand started shaking violently and a second later the spoon rattled right out of her grip.

“Slaggin’ ‘ell,” Zee snapped as she leaned back and shivered. “S’like I’m barely even fuckin’ alive, fuckin’ allus cold’n I can’t barely e’en pick a damn thing up, gotta be waited on hand’n fuckin’ foot just t’get about… s’fuckin’ aggravatin’, mate.”

“Yeah well, according to Twi you, like, literally almost died of shock,” Rainbow said with deep concern in her voice, “so maybe take it slow?”

“Ain’t no good at that, mate,” Zee grumbled. “T’ain’t in me t’take much slow, savvy?”

“Yeah, no I get that,” Rainbow said with a laugh. “Slow and me don’t get along very well either.”

The door to the house opened as Rainbow bent to pick up the spoon again and Zee looked up with obvious relief as Twilight stepped into the house looking more than a little tired and disheveled. Her weariness seemed to vanish the moment she set eyes on her girlfriend though as she kicked off her shoes and stepped into the living room.

“Hey Sparkle, how was prep for the games?” Rainbow asked as she set down the spoon and walked over, opening her arms for a hug. “You look like hell.”

Twilight smiled and stepped in to hug Rainbow quickly before moving to Zee’s side, slipping in beside her and taking her hand.

“It’s rough, honestly,” Twilight said after a moment, leaning her head against Zee’s shoulder. “The group is mostly people I hate, including Sugarcoat, Lemon, and Sunny… though I’m not surprised.”

Zee let out a hiss of derision. “Tha’ slag I cut up at the mall? She’s on y’fuckin’ academic rally team?”

“Sunny Flare might be a horrible person, but her grades are only a little behind mine,” Twilight said, sighing. “Same with her two flunkies… even if they’re awful people they are some of the brightest that Crystal Prep has to offer, and those are the only people that Principal Cinch would send to the Games.”

“Wow, that sounds incredibly shitty,” Rainbow said with a frown. “What about teamwork? What about synergy? Wondercolts are supposed to work together which means, bare minimum we gotta at least like each other. Are all Crystal Prep teams like this?”

“Nah, I know the type,” Zee grumbled, looking none-too-happy about Twilight’s news. “Figurin’ if all’a them are good as individuals then they’re sure t’win against a group that’s not better person-to-person, tha’reyt?”

“Mhm,” Twilight mumbled, burrowing gently into the covers and leaning her head against Zee’s shoulder. “It’s exhausting, Zee… I have to deal with them all day at school, then for hours after school for extra study… none of them listen to me… I’m so tired.”

"Ye’ll ‘ave it, our lass,” Zee replied softly, reaching out with her good arm and looping it around Twilight’s waist to pull her closer. “S’only for a bit, savvy?”

Rainbow’s stared at Zee for a moment before shaking her head.

“Man, you really are her sister, huh?” Rainbow said in a low voice. “Grizelda Gr-”

“King,” Zee snapped, “m’last name is King, not Grimfeather, ‘asn’t been for a long-arse time, savvy?”

“King, s’cool,” Rainbow agreed, holding up her hands in surrender. “Just… I knew you looked familiar but it was so weird to think of it, y’know?”

“And personally,” Zee growled. “I don’t consider owt who would leave me for dead and send m’pops to fuckin’ death row to be my sister, oreyt?”

“Yeah, fair enough, Rainbow replied.

“How’s Lightning?” Twilight asked quietly, looking up at Rainbow. “Even though it’s only been a week, I do want to run some tests. But I know that she’s probably still getting used to…”

Rainbow sighed and held up her hands and for a moment there was nothing, then a blinding flashing of lightning arced between her palms.

Twilight’s running theory she had given them after they’d all come to was that somehow, they’d managed to link together: sharing the load as it were. Ever since the night in the meadow, Zee hadn’t suffered another attack, while Lightning and Rainbow had both gained some measure of power from the exchange. At first, Twilight had been at an utter loss to explain how something like that could have happened.

At least, that was the case until Rainbow had explained the truth of what had happened at Canterlot during the Fall Formal, and during the Battle of the Bands.

The Elements of Harmony: a unified magical force that linked multiple people together into a complex web of power that amplified itself over and over, and Rainbow Dash had once been among them.

Upon learning the truth, Twilight had posited the theory that in order to channel magic the Elements must have changed something in Rainbow, and in all of her friends who had linked with the artifacts, in order to allow them to connect with one another. The Elements were supposed to function off of bonds of friendship and Twilight’s theory was that the Elements, in fact, used those emotional bonds as a medium to transmit and amplify magic. In order to do so, the Element Bearers had to be bonded to one another already, and through those bonds, the Elements opened channels to create, in effect, one massive arcane engine.

And those channels were still open.

Twilight could absorb and amplify energy through the bell matrix that she wore, and Zee was the source of it all, while Rainbow had her open channels designed to connect and bind to people she had a bond with; between the three of them Lightning had been connected as well, with her love and devotion to Rainbow allowing her own channels to connect to Rainbow’s open ones.

It hadn’t been graceful, and it certainly hadn’t been painless, and Twilight suspected the Elements were designed to do safely what the four of them had managed to accomplish by accident, but it had happened nonetheless.

Lightning Dust hadn’t taken spectacularly to her newfound abilities. Not that she’d been angry but more…

“They scare her, I think,” Rainbow said after a moment. “I mean I get it… it’s pretty freaky to be able to just-” Rainbow’s form flickered for a moment like an errant spark of lightning and suddenly she was on the other side of the room with the sudden wind whipping around her. “-y’know?”

“Can’t say I ain’t chuffed ‘bout m’own powers, mate,” Zee said with a grin before shivering and pulling the covers tighter around herself.

“Zee, please, you’re still recovering,” Twilight scolded her as she stood up. “You were almost… I… you have to be more careful from now on, alright?”

“Twilight’s right,” Rainbow said with a frown, “you’re in pretty bad shape, Zee, like… really bad shape. I might be like, the worst person to be saying this but even I know to slow it down and get better if I’m sick, right?”

“Thank you, Dash,” Twilight said quietly as she stepped forward to pull Rainbow into a tight hug. “For being there for us, and for everything.”

Rainbow smiled as she hugged Twilight back. “Hey, I’ll never let a friend down ever again, alright? And you two are some of my best friends,” stepping back, Rainbow rolled her shoulders and nodded towards the door. “Anyways, since you’re home I’m gonna head back. My dad’s been wondering where I’ve been all this time.”

“Sure thing mate,” Zee replied, “an’ uh, y’know, thanks f’stickin’ around too, I know I ain’t the easiest sort t’be around f’long, aye?”

“Nah, you’re a blast, Zee,” Rainbow replied as she jogged back towards the door. “See ya!”

Rainbow’s form blurred and flickered as suddenly she was gone, but Twilight caught the faint hint of ozone on the air before the door closed.

“Damn riot, that one,” the sonorous voice of Storm said from the threshold of the kitchen as he stepped out. “Still don’t like me much, though.”

Twilight grimaced. “She’ll come around, you’ve got a pretty bad reputation, pops.”

Storm chuckled and nodded. “Aye, that I do… can’t blame nowt f’that but m’self. I’ll be ‘eadin’ down t’the basement, then, you two… try’n keep m’daughter in one piece, aye?”

“Always,” Twilight replied with a small grin as Storm passed the living room and headed down the stairs.

He had barely closed the door before Twilight started pulling her school uniform off without so much as a word of explanation.

“Ah… pet? What’re ye-?” Zee stammered as Twilight tossed her skirt and blouse away and moved up to Zee.

Grabbing the covers, Twilight quickly pulled them open, wincing a little at the hiss from Zee as the cold air hit her skin. Twilight remedied that as quickly as possible by burrowing in next to her and pulling the mass of covers around the both of them, curling her own body around Zee’s and resting her head on Zee’s shoulder.

“There… better?” Twilight asked quietly.

“Better?” Zee chuckled nervously. “I’ve got our lass curled ‘round me in nowt but’er pants, so aye… aye tha’s a world better, love.”

Twilight let out a soft hum and tightened her grip around Zee, being careful to avoid her wounds, but refusing to relent on touching the girl, trailing her fingers over the lines of Zee’s tattoos and the defined valleys of muscles as she nestled her face in the crook of Zee’s neck, planting a soft kiss against it every so often that made the dark-skinned girl shiver.

“I’m jealous, you know,” Twilight said after a moment. “And it’s awful of me… and I hate it, but I am.”

Zee narrowed her eyes for a moment. “Jealous? An’ ‘ow’s that?”

“How else?” Twilight grumbled. “Leaving you alone all afternoon with a pretty girl who’s taking care of you while I’m out at the academy…”

Zee raised her good hand up to stroke her fingers across Twilight’s cheek.

“And I know it’s stupid!” Twilight said angrily. “I know it’s not right, and it’s not fair to Rainbow who’s probably one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and it’s not fair to Lightning Dust either because I know Rainbow would never cheat on her, and it’s obviously not fair to you because… because…”

“Because I’ll only ever love you, pet,” Zee finished, as she put what little strength into her hand that she could to guide Twilight’s face around so they were staring into each other’s eyes. “Only you, and it’ll always be you, savvy? Can’t even look at another lass like that now… all I can think of is you.”

Twilight sniffled a little a nodded before leaning in to press her lips to Zee’s, trailing her fingers over her cheek and across Zee’s face to the ragged bandages.

“I almost lost you,” Twilight said quietly as she pulled away. “It was so close and… and I don’t know what I’ll do if I really lose you, Zee.”

“T’weren’t tha’ bad, pet,” Zee said with a wry chuckle. “Helluva scrape but it’s not like I died, aye? I’ll bounce back.”

“Yeah…” Twilight said quietly, closing her eyes and laying her head on Zee’s shoulder. “You will… I’ll make sure of it.”

Zee still didn’t know what happened that night, not really. No one but herself and Storm knew and Twilight intended to keep it that way. She had to until she learned what precisely it was that Storm did on the night that Zee died.

Lightning crashed and the air snapped and crackled as Twilight tore through the fabric of space to land in the basement of her and Zee’s home. The air was filled with the stink of cooking meat as Twilight scrambled to her feet. She hadn’t been fast enough, not quite… the sheer bleed-over of heat from the sphere of fire that girl, Sunset, had conjured had been like standing on the edge of an open blast furnace, and Zee had been exposed to it for too long.

“STORM!” Twilight cried. “STORM, HELP!”

Rainbow and Lightning Dust were laying on their sides nearby, stunned and unconscious, but alive. Twilight had gotten them out when it looked like Zee had been winning, but when she’d come back her worst nightmare was right in front of her eyes

Zee was hanging suspended in the air, kicking and flailing helplessly as Sunset wove magic, real magic like it was nothing.

Never before had Twilight felt so utterly outclassed.

Twilight knew she was brilliant, her intelligence was challenged by so few people that it was almost funny if it weren’t so lonely. She had been proud of how quickly she had picked up the art of translocating, especially considering how many mental calculations had to be done to arrive safely, and she’d been getting better at it over the course of months with consistent practice.

Now though, she felt like an idiot. She had called the power she was wielding ‘Arcane Science’ as if it was brand new and then, seemingly in mockery of her, the universe showed her exactly how simplistic her view of things really was.

Sunset Shimmer wielded magic like she breathed it, despite the fact that it was effortless and mind-bogglingly complex at the same time. She had willed into existence a sphere of roiling plasma contained by an unknown force from nothing. She had created what looked like a miniature sun with a wave of her hand while floating in the air and keeping Zee contained with invisible bindings of kinetic force.

By Twilight’s standards that would have been like juggling running chainsaws while blindfolded and standing in the middle of an active freeway.

Twilight felt as though she had just started learning to count on her fingers and toes only to come across someone who could do calculus.

Twilight Sparkle was, in a word, terrified.

“Help!” Twilight cried again, only to hear the sound of heavy footfalls coming down the stairs a moment before Storm burst into the basement. “Please… help, Zee’s hurt, she’s hurt really badly… please.”

Storm glanced down at Zee and cursed. Zee’s entire right side was covered in first and second-degree burns and she was shaking violently.

“She’s goin’ inta shock, lass,” Storm said grimly as he moved forward, leaned down, and carefully scooped up Zee only to carry her over to the table nearby. “Get that cleared.”

Twilight didn’t hesitate as she rushed forward and swept her arms over the table, knocking everything on it to the floor only for it all to be replaced with Zee’s tremoring form a moment later.

Here in the light, Twilight could see it all, and she let out a pained sob. There was so much damage… Zee was burned, badly, and her body was quaking and twitching.

Storm ran a hand over her forehead before leaning down and pressing his ear to her chest only for his eyes to snap wide. “She’s goin’ into arrest!”

“W-what?!” Twilight cried. “B-but she’s… she-”

“She’s been electrocutin’ ‘erself repeatedly,” Storm snapped as he wiped his hands down and then tore open her dress to press the heels of his palms against her chest over her heart. “She’s burned, scorched, zapped… and now’er body’s done wif it all, savvy? Can’t keep’er goin’ any longer… there’s too much strain, the electrical surges like as not reached’er heart minutes ago an’ I’ll bet my bell that s’only magic what’s kept’er goin’ til now.”

With great care, Storm began rhythmically pressing, trying to keep her going. Through it all Twilight stared down at Zee, stroking her cheek and whispering, begging for her to come back as tears streamed down the lavender girl’s cheeks. After a few minutes of work, though, and Twilight hovering in a raw panic, Storm slowed, then finally stopped.

Sagging slightly Storm grimaced. “Soddin’ bastard… lost’er.”

The words struck Twilight like a mallet to the solar plexus, and she stared down at Zee. She wasn’t shaking anymore, or twitching, or gasping. In fact, she wasn’t doing anything anymore. Not even breathing. Her whole body was still tensed from shock, but it was still as Twilight tried to grapple with what she was looking at.

This couldn’t be happening.

It was a nightmare. Just an awful, awful nightmare and she’d wake up next to Zee and everything would be fine and Zee would be alive and… and…

Slowly, she turned to Storm as he stared down at his daughter.

“Storm… please… do something,” Twilight begged quietly. “Anything.”

“I’d need more power, lass,” Storm said. “Don’t suppose ye’ve got any floatin’ about?”

“Power…?” Twilight glanced down at the shattered remains of her mechanism. She had secured the bell back onto her neck with some cord once she’d found it in the crater after waking up. “I think… I think I might.”

Raising her hands up until the bell was hanging just between her open palms, Twilight closed her eyes and concentrated, listening for the sound of the bell in her mind. The power was still there, so much latent power that the bell had absorbed from the backlash of Zee’s attack, and through that Twilight could feel something inside her had changed. It was like before she had been listening from inside a walled house with no doors or windows, and now the bell sound was all around her. Free and unbound, Twilight felt like something in her had been ripped open and now she could smell the breeze and taste the air.

Her world had been so stifling before and she hadn’t even known it, and what was more, all around Twilight she could feel what she was looking for.

Power.

The sound of the brass bell rung through the basement as Twilight drew out sparks and ripples of energy.

Unseen and unheard by Twilight who was lost in her trance, Storm grinned and chuckled. “Well, a’right then… ‘ere we go, old goat, get ready because everythin’ is comin’ up Storm King.”

A moment later, Twilight’s eyes snapped open, her normally warm violet eyes gleaming brilliantly, and backed by an almost sickly-bright cyan.

“Tha’s it, lass,” Storm said standing straighter and holding out his hands. “Now giz uz that power… we can do it t’gether, aye? No one’s gotta die tonight, I’ll ‘appen.”

“No one dies tonight,” Twilight growled back and reached out her hands to lay them in Storm’s wide, calloused palms.

Storm jerked for a moment as the power rippled into him, traveling up his veins and into his core, and a harsh gasp of laughter escaped his lips as his eyes took on a lambent red glow.

Suddenly sapped of energy, Twilight staggered back, her eyes returning to normal as Storm towered over her. Looking up at him, Twilight felt a stab of sudden fear. For a moment she saw something else, someone else, superimposed over Storm’s form. An enormous figure with hateful red eyes and the curling horns of a ram.

Then it was gone as Storm reached down and gently pulled Twilight to her feet.

“A’right then, lass,” Storm said with a grin. “Watch this, now.”

Walking over to Zee’s silent form, Storm slipped his left hand under Zee’s head, gently supporting it, and held his right over her body. His hand wavered for a moment as if fishing around for something that Twilight couldn’t see, only to suddenly jerk, his fingers tightening and closing around something invisible.

“Got ye,” Storm whispered, “I knew ye ‘adn’t quite left off yet, aye?”

Twilight swallowed dryly as she watched, a part of her wondering what he was even doing while another part… well, that part didn’t want to know at all.

“C’mon then,” Storm whispered. “Come on back, ain’t done wif you yet, kiddo… neither is ye tidy lass, now wake… UP.”

Storm snapped his fingers down like he was throwing something and then tightened them again, and Twilight was struck suddenly by the image of a puppeteer gripping the strings of his dummy in the way Storm twitched his fingers.

Seconds later the image was lost as Zee spasmed violently, jerked, then snapped her eyes open and gasped in a deep gulp of air.

“Giz uz a pillow, lass,” Storm said quietly, nodding towards the corner of the room.

Twilight moved slowly, barely believing her eyes as she watched Zee’s breathing even out. Snatching the pillow up from the corner of the room she passed it to Storm who slid it gently under Zee’s head and removed his hand. Standing tall, he dusted his hands off as if he’d just gotten finished changing a particularly finicky lightbulb and not bringing someone back from the dead.

“She’ll ‘ave th’hell of it for a while,” Storm said, setting a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “Necromancy ain’t pretty, nor is it ‘ealthy on the body… sapped a lot of’er life to get’er back.” Twilight’s eyes widened at his use of the word ‘necromancy’. “She’ll be cold, chill’a the grave, an’ weak… the animatin’ force of her soul’ll take weeks to anchor back in’er body.”

“B-But, she’s alive?” Twilight asked quietly.

“Mostly,” Storm replied with a smirk. “Soul Strings, y’see… tied’er back to’er body an’ tricked it into thinkin’ she’s still kickin’, aye? She’ll heal slow but fine, lass… body’s nowt but a machine, see? I just took out’er battery and plugged’er into the mains f’the moment… eventually, she’ll charge back up natural like and it’ll be like she was never ‘urt, savvy?”

Not for the first time that night, Twilight felt utterly outclassed. She had dared to imagine she was at least proficient in magic but seeing Sunset, and now seeing what Storm had just done to save his daughter’s life…

“Can you teach me, Mister King?” Twilight asked quietly.

Storm raised an eyebrow. “Teach ye… wot?”

“How to do what you did,” Twilight said, “and more… can you teach me?”

Storm let a grin cross his face. “Aye… I’ll ‘appen I can do that… on one condition.”

“Anything,” Twilight said firmly, lifting her head to meet Storm’s gaze.

“No more’a this ‘Mister King’ and ‘Storm’ crap, aye?” Storm said with a chuckle. “Call me ‘pops’.”

“Zee?” Twilight spoke up after a long bout of silence.

No response came and, briefly, Twilight felt a stab of panic that somehow Zee had slipped away, that maybe Storm’s spell had come undone and Zee wasn’t healed enough to keep her grip on life.

The faint susurration of breath from Zee’s lips, a tiny snore, punctured the panic attack that Twilight had felt oncoming, and she curled harder into Zee’s side. She was just tired, that was all, Zee was just exhausted. Storm had told Twilight to expect as much given how much trauma her body had sustained.

“I guess I owe Storm almost as much as you do now,” Twilight said quietly. “Even if I can’t tell anyone why.”

Rainbow and Lightning were among those people, although they had stuck around despite being told the truth about Storm’s identity. No small part of that, Twilight guessed, stemmed from the fact that Twilight had revealed that Storm had unequivocally saved Zee’s life, even if she hadn’t specified how he had done it. She’d only said that Zee’s heart had stopped and Storm had managed to get her going again.

All three of them had agreed to keep that little detail from Zee herself, though. Lightning had been the most vocal about it, insisting that Zee had been through more than enough, to which Twilight couldn’t help but agree. Rainbow hadn’t been happy but she understood and agreed, and Twilight, in turn, understood Rainbow’s reticence. They weren’t lying, but Dash wasn’t pleased about having to keep something like that from Zee.

“You’re my whole world, Zee,” Twilight whispered, letting her lips brush lightly over Zee’s cheek. “I’ll never let you go.”

And she wouldn't, because Storm would teach her how,

“Sunset? Wake up, dear.”

Sunset’s eyes flickered open. For once her sleep had been dreamless, a pleasant surprise considering she had been expecting yet more apocalyptic visions of disaster when she felt herself nodding off. She had sworn to Adagio she wouldn’t use the Slumbernot rune again, no matter how tempting, and Adagio had agreed to keep her actions from the rest of their friends.

‘Sometimes, Sunny,’ she had said, ‘I think that honesty is knowing what not to say.’

Looking up, Sunset blinked her eyes clear and saw the face of Nurse Kindheart looking down at her.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” Sunset shifted in bed and pulled herself up. “Just catching up on some sleep I guess,” a sudden thought struck Sunset as she spoke, “is everything okay? Is Gilda-?”

“Still sleeping,” Kindheart said softly, “but Doctor Tourniquet is certain she’ll wake any day now.”

“I hope so,” Sunset said quietly. “So what’s up?”

“Well, you did tell the nurse on duty to wake you if you had any visitors,” Nurse Kindheart said with a smile. “And you have one who claims to represent your mother?”

Sunset’s eyes widened.

“You can tell me if that’s true or not, but I didn’t want to send her away given the circumstances…” Kindheart continued. “However, I was under the impression you were an orphan?”

“I am,” Sunset replied softly. “I mean I was… my mother and I… we’ve got a complicated relationship… we parted ways years ago under very poor circumstances that were pretty much my fault, I was an awful daughter. We argued, it was… brutal, and she ended up throwing me out.” Wiping at her eyes, Sunset was unsurprised to find tears, and she sighed. “Thing is, I think she was expecting me to come back and… I didn’t. I came here instead, and because of that, we didn’t speak for years, half a decade actually, not until last December… it’s funny, Gilda is the only reason I had the strength to face her again.”

“Well I’m not sure I like the sound of your mother if I’m being honest, dear,” Kindheart said sternly. “As a mother myself, and a grandmother now it comes to it, I couldn’t imagine turning out a child of mine no matter how poorly she behaved, but I suppose I can’t judge… would you like to speak to the woman?”

“Yeah,” Sunset said, nodding. “My mother… she’s been torturing herself all these years for how things ended between us, and I think I’ve been doing the same thing, so I want to try to…”

“Mend bridges?” Kindheart supplied.

“Reconnect,” Sunset said, nodding again. “I want to-”

‘I want to be forgiven,’ Sunset closed her eyes as her dream from the night before came back.

“I’ll send her in then,” Kindheart straightened and stepped out of the room.

Sunset heard a short, muffled exchange, and as she waited considered who her mother might have sent. Princess Celestia herself couldn’t come, obviously… her inborn magical power shook the heavens, literally, the last time she stepped through the portal and that was only for a matter of moments. This world just didn’t have the metaphysical infrastructure to contain something like her. That meant it was probably one of her messengers, a guard courier perhaps, or-

The door opened and a young woman stepped through carrying some kind of heavy metal briefcase, and her matte-black office heels clicked loudly against the tile floor. She had pale, almost dusty-white skin, and wore a simple dark business skirt that complimented her long legs nicely. Her blouse was a white that complimented her complexion well, and a wine-red ruffled necktie at her collar tied the ensemble together. A pair of square-lensed glasses sat perched on her nose below a hairdo that was pulled up in a severe bun.

“Sunset Shimmer,” the woman said in an utterly arid voice. “Granting your relationship to the Princess, Equestrian law requires that I say I’m pleased to see you alive and well.”

Sunset blinked in confusion for a moment, then let out a sigh as she realised who she was looking at.

“Good evening, Raven,” Sunset said quietly. “And before we go any further, I want to apologise for what an intolerable bitch I was to you back during my days in the castle, alright? You’re not the first person I’ve apologised to, and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

Raven raised a single, meticulous eyebrow before nodding. “An apology? I have to say I wasn’t expecting that… for whatever your mother said of you and how much you’ve grown as a person, you and I both know she never knew you at your worst.”

“No, I reserved that for when I wasn’t directly in her line of sight,” Sunset groaned. “Or in sight of her little ‘birdies’.”

“Ah, yes,” Raven grinned humorlessly, “couldn’t have one of mumsie’s little spies reporting her adopted daughter’s borderline criminal behaviour.”

“Obviously not,” Sunset agreed, and Raven’s eyebrow scooted up another centimeter. “Look, I know what a horrible person, pony, whatever, that I was back then, alright?” Pulling her sheets away, Sunset dragged her useless legs around so she could sit hanging off the side of the bed and face Raven head-on. “But if it gives you some kind of catharsis, or makes you feel better then go ahead: yell at me, berate me, tell me how much you hate me because I guarantee it won’t be more than I hate myself, so bring it on!”

Raven’s oaky brown eyes met a burning pair of cyan ones, and after a moment her posture changed, relaxing slightly.

“Well, will wonders never cease,” Raven breathed quietly. “I had always thought that if there was one person in all the wide, wide world that your mother’s teachings would never reach, it would be you.”

“In your defense, they didn’t,” Sunset said with a wry smirk. “It took my replacement to hammer that particular lesson home.”

“Ah yes, Twilight Sparkle,” Raven smirked a little. “Night and day, you two… just as anti-social mind you, but at least you could fake it. That filly once brought half a library into a masquerade ball she’d promised to attend just so she could keep studying.”

Sunset snorted out a laugh, mostly because she could definitely see Twilight doing precisely that.

“But seriously,” Sunset said quietly, patting the side of the bed for Raven to join her which, after a moment of hesitation she did, “I am sorry. You were, what… an adjutant?”

“Junior aide,” Raven said quietly. “At the time, I was just a junior aide to Midnight Oil, prior to his retirement.”

“And, of course, I treated you like absolute garbage,” Sunset said with a melancholic sigh, “just like everypony else I saw as being lower on the social totem pole back then, which was everypony else on the totem pole, except of course for the Princess.” Burying her face in her hands, Sunset sighed. “The worst part is, I probably couldn’t tell you what I even did to you if you put a gun to my head… I tormented so many people back then, it was like breathing for me.”

“I’ll tell you it was bad enough that I considered just quitting,” Raven admitted in a quiet tone. “I’d gotten a hoof in the door at my dream job, working in the castle, and as a junior aide to the Princess herself no less, and rather than be overjoyed, I practically cried myself to sleep every night, dreaming about going back to Ponyville and just taking the dead-end job at the mayoral office that my mother offered me, secretarial work, you know?”

“I’m so sorry,” Sunset replied, fidgeting with her hospital gown as she looked away.

“It wasn’t just you, if that helps,” Raven said after a moment. “The nobles, the court, the lords and ladies… there were so many stuck up, mean-spirited cretins that I could hardly stand it.”

“But I was one of them,” Sunset said firmly. “And I am sorry.”

“I know,” Raven replied. “And honestly, it is kind of nice to hear that, even if its several years late.”

Sunset nodded. “It took me a long time and…” sighing, she gestured to her legs, “a lot of loss to get where I am but… I don’t think I would change it for the world.”

Raven smiled faintly at that and set a hand on Sunset’s shoulder.

“You know, if somepony had told me yesterday that today I’d be feeling bad for Sunset ‘Her Bitchiness’ Shimmer, I would have laughed in their face, spat on them, and walked away.”

“Wait, did ponies actually call me that?” Sunset asked, looking surprised.

Raven gave her a deadpan look. “Yes, we did, in fact I’m relatively certain some of the old guard still refer to you by that moniker.”

Sunset sagged a little and sighed. “Well, I guess I made that bed myself, huh?”

“Yes, you did,” Raven replied before chuckling lightly. “But nonetheless, I am glad to see you’ve grown as much as the Princess claimed… in all honesty I was expecting the same bitchy princess wannabe who had her mother wrapped around her hoof when I got this assignment,” Raven grinned and lightly elbowed Sunset in the ribs, “but I’m pleased to see that’s not the case, if only because it makes this conversation infinitely more tolerable.”

“Glad to hear I’ve ascended to the rank of ‘tolerable bitch’, then,” Sunset said with a smirk. “So what’s the assignment?”

Raven nodded and pulled the large briefcase up into her lap and worked at the locks with fumbling fingers. “Deliver; we had to- curse these miserable digits -communicate with the current Element of Honesty to acquire this safety case since your mother didn’t want its contents falling into anyone else’s hands, but it’s the product of a great deal of research done on the portal by Princess Sparkle.”

“Twilight made it?” Sunset leaned over, “what is it?”

“A gift,” Raven said as she finally released the catches by pressing her thumb to a small recess in the lock and entering a pair of three digit codes. “From your mother to Miss Grimfeather as thanks for protecting her daughter.”

“Gilda…” Sunset sank into herself at the memory. “She fought for me… she almost died for me.”

“But she didn’t,” Raven said in a reassuring voice as she put a hand over Sunset’s and gave it a gentle squeeze, “and your mother is committed to ensuring that despite her injury she still maintains full effectiveness.”

Cracking the case open, Sunset looked down and her eyes widened in shock at what she saw set into the velvet lining.

“H-How…?” Sunset stammered, “this isn’t… how is this possible?”

Raven smirked. “I told you, Princess Twilight worked on it, and she knows more about the sciences of transdimensional travel than any pony alive today, on top of that she is both a genius scholar and the greatest geometer of the modern era, do you really think this is beyond her?”

Sighing, Sunset shook her head. “No, honestly I guess I don’t… and I’m glad but… it’ll be up to Gilda if she wants to accept it. It’ll be a shock, you know.”

“I know,” Raven said, shutting the case closed. “Not all patients are willing, some want, or need, to heal in their own way, so we’ll wait, but I’m at your disposal until she makes a decision.”

“Okay, thanks,” Sunset said before having a thought. “H-Hey, Raven? I know hospital cafeterias aren’t the best but… would you like to go get a cup of coffee with me?”

“You know,” Raven replied with a small, genuine smile, “oddly enough, I think that sounds rather nice.”