“Pawn to E-Four.”

The deep, sonorous strains of cello strings filled the air of the warehouse which had, over the course of the past month, become significantly more liveable. The floor had been swept and mopped, and the detritus cleared away. The walls were a riot of colorful, curvilinear symbols that, to the untrained eye, appeared to be no more than a particularly creative panoply of graffiti.

Of course, a magi would probably recognise the advanced contained spells, even given the unusual manner of their execution.

The floor was a mismatched gridwork of bare stone carved with perfectly measured runic containment circles, comfortable rugs with well-used couches, tables, and chairs atop them, and sparring mats that seemed like they would be more at home in a gym.

“Well?,” Adagio said with a cheshire grin as she nodded towards the board. “Go on then, and remember… don’t touch.”

“We’ve been practicing like this for two and a half weeks, darling,” Octavia replied, matching the Siren’s smirk. “I’m well aware of the rules by now.”

“And yet you still have yet to win a game,” Adagio jabbed with a good-natured grin.

Octavia cocked an eyebrow up and stared expressionlessly at Adagio.

“Well pardon me for not having several centuries of practice,” she shot back with a playful sneer.

The two girls sat in the center of the warehouse. Adagio in an expensive-seeming easy chair she had procured from somewhere. She had done most of the furnishing personally with token input from the rest of the group. At the moment they were the only ones using the space, everyone else had things to do that evening which suited both Octavia and Adagio perfectly fine.

Between them a chessboard floated in a pale orange glow, enchanted by the Siren who watched her opponent, and student, smugly.

More chords thrummed into the air and Octavia concentrated, narrowing her eyes at the chessboard where all of the pieces sat in their starting configuration.

She focused specifically on the pawn that Adagio had named, and pulled the rosined bow along the strings of her instrument.

The sound of her cello filled the room, back by a deeper, more powerful thrum. Soft, gray light flowed off of Octavia, melding with the instrument, and after a moment a small pair of gray-furred pony ears curled up from under her rich black hair.

Reaching deeper, Octavia concentrated and played another set of chords, and suddenly the gray light was shot through with veins of violet radiance.

Tiny, separate planes of violet and gray closed around Adagio’s white pawn like a mechanical hand, slowly lifting it and then moving it over to the space Adagio had designated. The moment it was in place, Octavia twitched her bow, changing the tune, and the piece began to lower until it was settled perfectly in the center of the square.

“Perfect,” Adagio said with a smaller but more genuine smile. “Your move.”

“Pawn to E-five,” Octavia declared.

Adagio’s smiled widened slightly, then she closed her eyes, parted her full lips, and let a graceful, lilting melody flow outward. Light that was a rich shade of goldenrod suffused Adagio for a moment as a delicate pair of frilled fins unfurled from under her enormous poof of orange hair, a faint suggestion of scales textured her neck and collar, and from behind her a large pair of scaled, fin-like wings extended.

The black pawn in question rattled in place for a moment before spinning upward in a graceful spiral only to land on the appointed spot with a tiny pirouette.

“Show off,” Octavia said, a grin curling her lips upward.

“Only ever, my dear,” Adagio replied with a breathy laugh. “Knight to F-three.”

Huffing slightly and trying her best to ignore the sweat beading on her forehead, Octavia let the music flow from her, through the cello, and out into the world.

“You know I always assumed you had a reason for this inane exercise which you would eventually explain,” Octavia said in a strained voice as she encased the white Queen-side knight in layered planes of energy. “But I’m beginning to think you might just be, as Gilda would say, fucking with me.”

Adagio giggled, a rich and pleasant sound that made Octavia shiver.

“Oh my darling Octavia…” Adagio said in a gentle voice. “You can’t possibly have failed to notice, have you?”

“What I have noticed,” Octavia said stiffly as she set the piece down with a clatter, “is a statistically significant increase in the number of migraines I’ve been having since we started practicing like this.”

“Hmm,” Adagio smiled and nodded in appreciation as Octavia took a breath and examined the board. “So you haven’t, interesting…”

“Haven’t what?” Octavia asked as she glared at the chess pieces in question. Her eyes traveled over the board for a few moments before she shrugged and said: “Knight to C-six.”

Adagio sang the knight into its new position as she let her hand trail over her fins. She had missed the small, lesser aspects of her true form. Of course, she bitterly missed the full glory of her old body in its entirety, but she had to admit there were nice things about being human. She highly doubted she would have been able to make friends with Octavia as a draconic sea monster, after all.

“Bishop to C-four,” Adagio called, before continuing. “You do remember what this exercise is for, don’t you?”

“To train my precision,” Octavia replied. “But it seems like I’m making no progress at all, and I have to admit it’s awfully frustrating…” the tune of the cello faded as Octavia sagged in place. “I’m… I’m not making any progress, ‘Dagi… I’m just going to drag everyone else down when it comes to it… I can still barely move these damnedable metal toys!”

Adagio’s brow furrowed, and she sighed. “Octavia, darling, you are improved, far more than you believe I assure you.”

“Am I?” Octavia said bitterly. “Vinyl can create pulses of sound strong enough to shatter stone, Gilda can throw lightning and move so fast she turns into a blur,” she gestured with her bow as she was wont to do when she got irritated, “Penny can play with people's senses and emotions by plucking a few bass strings, and you can make a chessboard of pieces perform a flawless rendition of SWAN LAKE!”

“Perhaps that one was a bit much,” Adagio allowed, with a sheepish smile.

“You can hum an entire symphony and bring a small army to life!” Octavia huffed, “and I can hardly get through a single game of chess without wanting to taking my cello to my own skull.”

Adagio sighed quietly, looking across at Octavia for a few moments and taking in the dejected young woman. She admired the young cellist deeply for a number of reasons, among the chief of which is that Octavia, to Adagio, represented something she had not seen in many years.

Nobility.

Noblesse Oblige.

The idea that the wealth of the wealthy should serve to enrich all, not just rot in their coffers, passed down from mother to daughter, father to son, in an unending chain of indulgent and hedonistic wastefulness.

“How about we try something a little more exciting then?” Adagio said suddenly, sitting up in her chair and smiling. “Let me prove to you beyond a shadow of a doubt that you have, in fact, improved.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Well, as much as I enjoy the intellectual pursuit of chess, I will admit I wouldn’t mind something a touch more stimulating after two weeks of it.”

“Fair’s fair, my dear,” Adagio chirped, standing up as she did and with a whistled tune sent her chair sailing away to the wall.

Octavia’s chair followed suit the moment she stood, and Adagio couldn’t help but admire the faint muscle definition the cellist was beginning to show. All of the girls had undergone weeks of physical training alongside Gilda, with direction from Aria, to put them into better physical condition. It had not been as extensive as Gilda’s training, but it had given the already relatively healthy girl an attractive sort of fitness. It also meant she could wield her cello like a sledge, the normally cumbersome instrument looked almost weightless in Octavia’s grip.

“Well then, Octavia darling, if you would please take up position on the training mat at the far end, over there,” Adagio pointed at the east wall, “we can begin.”

Octavia dutifully took up the position Adagio had indicated, then readied herself; bracing the cello and settling the bow gracefully on the strings of her instrument.

“Alright then, let’s see how your reflexes have improved,” Adagio said with a faint grin.

Then she began to hum.

It was a deep, rhythmic, sonorous tune that originated from deep with the Siren’s chest but seemed to fill the air of the warehouse with echoes that made the space sound like an grand auditorium hall. It took Octavia several moments of listening for her to realise what it was she was actually hearing.

“Is that ‘Hall of the Mountain King’?” Octavia muttered.

Adagio’s head bobbed in tune with her hums and, after a moment, Octavia realised that a goldenrod glow had suffused the chess pieces that lined the game board and they were beginning to float into the air with short, staccato bobs that matched the Siren's voice.

On a strictly technical level, Octavia was stunned at the accuracy of Adagio’s acapella performance of ‘Hall’, but a moment later she realised why.

Percussion, bass, and other sounds were filling the air from nowhere. It was Adagio’s magic; she was conjuring herself an entire orchestra as the little black and white pieces began circling around her ever faster as the tempo of the music grew.

Finally, Adagio’s lips parted to speak, but the music never stopped.

“Pawn to E-Four,” Adagio whispered.

One of the white pawns shot forward like a bullet, and Octavia reacted on impulse, dragging a sonorous stroke across her strings and halting the piece in the air in clap of sound as its momentum was abruptly arrested by binding planes of purple-shot grey.

“Good,” Adagio cheered, “but can you withstand a frontal assault?”

Adagio wheeled her arms as she sang a deep, faster tempo into the air and pawn after pawn fired with rapid snaps of air like a hail of gunfire.

Octavia, catching the tempo of Adagio’s song, added her cello’s deep-bellied voice to it, and each featherlight touch of her bow to the instrument’s strings snatched a piece from the air. Over and over, knights and pawns, bishops and rooks hammered towards her until only the kings and queens remained orbiting around the Siren.

“You’ll have to do better than that, dearie!” Octavia cheered smugly.

Adagio had been right, this was making her feel better. She was fast, precise, and accurate… she was still just catching toys though.

“Better?” Adagio asked, a wicked grin slipping over her features. “Well, I suppose I could do that.”

Octavia paled a little as the four final pieces began glowing an iridescent orange. She barely managed to strike a rising crescendo as the small objects erupted out of Adagio’s aura like they were shot from cannons. Acting on instinct, Octavia, poured her whole being into the stroke of her bow and in an instant a massive grey wall with beautiful geometric purple designs etched through it sprang to life in front of her, intercepting the pieces which buried themselves into the energy field Octavia had conjured.

“Excellent work,” Adagio said happily, clapping slowly as she floated in place.

Sagging a little, Octavia shot Adagio a small glare around the myriad of floating pieces that were now hanging around her.

“That was a bit dangerous, wasn’t it?” Octavia said with a hint of annoyance. “Even if they are toys, at that speed you could have really harmed me.”

“I knew you could catch them,” Adagio replied with a beatific grin. “Speaking of which… think fast!”

Adagio let out a sharp, trilling note of song that split the air like a spear thrust. Octavia’s only warning of attack was the faint snapping sound of a carabiner unlocking as she whirled around to see Aria and Gilda’s massive punching bag hurtling towards her.

Time seemed to slow as Octavia’s mouth went dry. That thing weighed nearly a thousand pounds, was designed and reinforced to take the impact from two practiced hyperkine warriors, and Octavia had only ever practiced with children’s toys.

Nevertheless, the cellist's hands were already moving, tracing an instinctual pattern; dragging out a matching tone over her cello’s strings to try, perhaps in vain, to catch the enormous weight that was currently careening towards her.

Time seemed to catch up to Octavia in a rush of sound as she sliced her bow across the strings of her cello, and she vaguely thought that she heard someone was screaming, or roaring in defiance. The deep-bellied growl of her cello echoed through the warehouse while the wind and air snapped around Octavia as she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable brutal impact.

Nothing came.

After a moment, Octavia cracked one eye open, then the other, then stared.

The thousand-pound bag hung suspended several feet from her by graceful planes of purple-and-grey energy. They were restraining and lifting the sandbag as easily as they had the chess pieces as if the bag weighed no more than any of the little figurines.

Relief washed through Octavia, and she dropped to her knees, clinging to her cello to keep her upright as she released her grasp on the chess pieces and the punching bag alike.

From behind her, she heard a cataclysmic crash of multiple objects of impossible weight.

Octavia turned slowly, staring with wide eyes and a pale expression as she searched for the source of the sound.

She found them in the floor as a sheepish Adagio lowered herself from where she floated in the air to land lightly on the ground amidst where the chess pieces had each buried themselves half an inch into the solid concrete floor of the warehouse, in one case a rook had punched clean through the couch it had been hovering over when Octavia had released it.

“W-w-wha…” Octavia stammered, staring in disbelief as Adagio wove towards her in between in the small holes.

Lowering herself down so she was squatting beside Octavia, Adagio shrugged.

“It’s an old Sirenic training spell,” Adagio explained with a light chuckle. “Once upon a time, our Myrmidon would wear rings of enchanted metal coins that would absorb small amounts of their magic as they trained, the spell would convert the magic into physical weight, slowing them down and forcing them to get stronger in order to move.” Adagio reached out a sang a tune, wrenching a bishop free of its concrete tomb and floating it between them. “Then the Myrmidon would eventually remove the weights and be freed from their handicap, faster and stronger than before.”

“S-So those little chess pieces I’ve been lifting for the past two weeks…?” Octavia began weakly, pointing at the bishop that hovered in a sheathe of goldenrod light.

“Weigh about a half-ton each by now, I think,” Adagio answered with a small smile.

Octavia worked her jaw noiselessly as she goggled at the tiny floating figurine.

“But how do you lift it so easily?” Octavia asked in a feeble tone. “I have to strain to lift them, and while I feel a touch better about myself now that know I was… well, powerlifting…”

“Our magic is fundamentally different,” Adagio replied gently. “I lift things by generating a sheathe of power around an object and counteracting gravity in a local area,” she explained, gesturing at the glowing piece. “Then I make small bursts of kinetic force to move them about.”

“You must be very good,” Octavia said softly, reaching out to prod the piece and smiling as it bobbed in place. “I would probably just make it flail drunkenly about trying to do that.”

“Well, I did too when I began a millennium or so ago,” Adagio said with a small, wry laugh. “But you could learn it if you tried and practiced, and that’s the difference between us… if push came to shove you could do what I do, I couldn’t do what you do even if I pushed magic out til I was green at the gills.”

Octavia furrowed her brow. “Why? You’re so much more powerful than me.”

“Do not mistake skill and experience for power,” Adagio said firmly, “as they are two very different things.”

Cocking her head slightly, Octavia got to her feet a little unsteadily and Adagio put out a hand to catch her.

“Power,” Adagio continued, letting the cellist lean on her, “is a measurable, codified force to a practitioner of magic, you see.”

The eldest Siren sang the chairs they had been using back to them from the wall and helped Octavia into one before taking a seat across from her. Octavia took a deep breath, relaxing into the chair as she leaned her cello against it.

“Your potential is immense, Miss Melody,” Adagio said, her voice turning serious. “You used panels of pure kinetic force to lift the chess pieces at first, then when they became heavier you instinctively modified your panels with coils of magic to reinforce them like a skeletal structure,” Adagio shook her head and laughed, a loose, dry little sound. “And you continued to do so even when the pieces reached a scale of weight that even I would have balked at trying to lift normally.”

Octavia’s eyes widened. “What are you saying? I’m… what?”

“You’re an abjurer par excellence, Octavia,” Adagio said, a hint of pride in her voice. “You’re a natural shield-mage, and not only that you’ve got enough pure magical grunt to flip a Buick with brute force.”

“I… I do?” Octavia’s voice raised a little, and her cheeks colored with a flush of pride. “But… how? I’m not magical… I’m… I’m just human.”

Adagio shrugged. “It's who you are, the Elements unlocked our potential, but they don’t necessarily enhance it,” smiling wanly, she toyed with her own element at her neck. “My old amulet amplified mine and my sisters magic tenfold, but we had so little. Ironically I have more magic now but without the amplifying property I’m back to my old limitations… no more draining others to fuel my powers, which is probably for the best.”

“So… I’m stronger than you?” Octavia asked, a smug grin growing over her face.

Adagio laughed smokily. “Don’t get a big head, Miss Melody, you still can’t beat me in chess or magic, and I’ve got ten of your lifetimes in practice.”

Octavia laughed, an honest, bubbling sound, and Adagio found herself smiling more widely. After a moment she felt a faint pang in her heart though, something like loss or nostalgia, and her smile faded.

“Adagio? Are you alright?” Octavia asked quietly, her smile fading a little. “You look… sad.”

“I suppose I am,” Adagio said in a small voice.

Octavia frowned. “Why?”

“Because, Miss Melody,” Adagio replied, her heart suddenly aching, “you’re going to die.”

“B-beg pardon?” Octavia stammered, her face paling.

Adagio gave a small, bitter laugh. “Not soon, Nodens forfend, but I meant… in the long stretch, being mortal you know?”

“Oh,” Octavia laughed weakly, “I, uhm, I suppose you’re right, I will, but that’s just the way of things isn’t it?”

“I’m an immortal, remember?” Adagio replied with a brittle smile. “Dying is a rather mortal pastime.”

“Right,” Octavia said, suddenly following Adagio’s meaning. “I suppose I’d forgotten that, hm? That is quite sad to think about… losing all of one’s friends like that.”

“I’ll always have my sisters, of course,” Adagio said softly, “but lately I’m struck by the idea that I’ll lose all of you, even Sunset, to your own mortality at the very least, and…”

Octavia’s eyes widened a little as she saw tears begin trailing down Adagio’s cheeks.

“...and of you all, I find the idea of your loss to be the most painful of all,” Adagio finished, “if I’m being fully honest.”

“Me?” Octavia croaked in a tiny voice. “Why, me?”

“Because in a very short time you have become very near and dear to my heart, Miss Melody,” Adagio said, her tone gentle and pained, “your nobility and poise, among your many virtues, move me in a way I had thought your kind lacked the capability to manage.” Sighing, and giving a weak scoff, Adagio wiped at her eyes. “I suppose this is me eating a helping crow over that.”

“Maybe it’s selfish of me,” Octavia said after a moment, “but… I’m happy that I met you, and that I could talk to you, and spend time with you.” Tears of her own slid down Octavia’s cheeks as she laughed bitterly. “My god, it does sound so very selfish but I look forward to spending my life listening to your stories, and perhaps if I’m permitted a little pride, letting you listen to my music.”

Adagio reached out and wiped a few tears from Octavia’s cheeks and smiled.

“I should like nothing better,” Adagio said softly. “Come whatever pain might, I would not trade that pain for never knowing you, my beautiful Melody.”

“Heh, oh stop,” Octavia chuckled, waving a hand as her cheeks colored, “say that out loud again and people might think you’re in love with me.”

Adagio closed her eyes, and felt tears sear at the back of her eyelids. For a moment she tried to push them back but found she simply didn’t have the strength, nor did she have the desire.

Not anymore.

As Adagio opened her eyes, Octavia felt her breath catch as tears glittered against Adagio’s bright, raspberry-colored orbs, and she smiled in a way that reminded Octavia of someone who was grieving.

“I believe I am, Miss Melody,” Adagio admitted in a pained voice, “but that’s not the path of this world… you have found your heart already, and I’m happy for you.”

Octavia raised a hand to her chest and she let out a sob. “I… I love Vinyl… I love her so much that it hurts sometimes.”

“I know,” Adagio said softly.

“So why…?” Octavia cried, “why does it suddenly feel like my heart is breaking?”

Adagio reached out and took Octavia’s hand, holding it tight as Octavia gripped back, then lifted the Siren’s graceful fingers up and pressed them to her lips.

“Perhaps we’re mourning what might have been,” Adagio said in a voice that was raw with tears. “Perhaps we’re just mourning the fact that as a mortal and an immortal, we were always divided by death from the start.”

“I do love you, Adagio,” Octavia cried bitterly. “I could never leave Vinyl, nor do I want to, but-”

“I know,” Adagio said in a soothing voice.

“All my life I’ve felt like I’d been cosmically misplaced somehow,” Octavia said, her voice raw as the words poured out of her, “like a living anachronism with no real world merit or purpose… and if anything that feeling is only highlighted with Vinyl who’s a… a pillar of modernity!” Adagio clenched her teeth at the pain in Octavia’s voice, but didn’t interrupt. The girl sounded like she needed to get this out. “It’s why I almost threw my cello away! I wanted to… to throw away that uselessness! That pointless, antiquated version of me!”

“Why didn’t you?” Adagio asked quietly.

“Because… because Vinyl said it was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with me,” Octavia said, her voice weak. “And yet, for all her love, I still felt misplaced until I met you, and then suddenly it’s like I’d found that last missing piece and… and I’m whole now.”

“And you will never be without me,” Adagio swore in a tight, almost angry voice. “In one way or another.”

Octavia sniffled a little but nodded. Time passed in a languid crawl as the pair, the immortal songstress and the mortal cellist, sat in one another’s company. After a time, Octavia raised her head and met Adagio’s gaze with a question.

“Can you die?” Octavia asked. “Are you truly immortal or, when we go out there eventually, is there a chance…”

“There are many kinds of immortality,” Adagio replied. “My sisters and I are ageless, but not invulnerable. Our magic lets us heal from most injuries, and we can’t succumb to illness, and the architecture of our minds precludes anything like dementia.”

“But…” Octavia prompted.

“But a bullet to the head would still kill any of us,” Adagio admitted, “as would any sufficiently dire trauma that would result in instant death, or something egregious enough that we couldn’t simply regenerate it, like a shorn limb.”

“So when this all comes to a head,” Octavia said, her features darkening, “you’re in as much danger as anyone else.”

“Naturally,” Adagio answered.

“Why?” Octavia’s voice was pleading. “You’re a living archive of experience, you could recite the true nature of countless historical events! You, Adagio, are priceless!”

“If in living I permitted you to die, my dear Melody,” Adagio said with an utterly grave expression, “then I am not priceless, I am worthless.”

Octavia stared in mute shock at Adagio who never once looked away. She let the young woman stare into her eyes and see the absolutely sober sincerity that she spoke with, and after a few moments, Octavia sagged in her chair, wrapped her arms around herself, and shivered violently.

“Am I truly worth so much to you?” Octavia asked in a harrowed voice.

“And more,” Adagio replied, steepling her fingers in front of her face.

“I see,” Octavia murmured.

Silence stretched for a brief moment, then Octavia reached out and picked up her cello to settle it in place before her.

“Will you play for me, Miss Melody?” Adagio asked gently.

Octavia smiled as she rested the bow against the strings. “Til the end, Miss Dazzle… til the very end.”

That evening the air around the warehouse was filled with the deep, sonorous strings of the cello, and it remained that way for hours, deep into the night, though there were only two who were present to properly attest to it. A few of the vagrants thought they heard an unearthly voice join in on occasion, but they weren’t certain. It might have simply been the way the music carried on the ocean wind.

After all, it hardly even sounded human.

The bass was thumping with a tactile, rhythmic pulse from the garage of the old house off of the corner of Belgrade and Cheval. The house itself was not a particularly notable one, despite being in the part of town where many of the houses were refurbished old townhouses from the original days of Canterlot, back when it was a small town.

Age-wise, the home settled into that awkward place where it was old enough to have a myriad of problems; from old wiring to poor insulation to leaky pipes that thumped and banged every time it rained more than two inches, which was most seasons, even Summer, but not old enough to be considered a ‘classic’ and worth the cost of restoring it.

On the upside, this meant the rent was cheap, and that was main incentive its current tenant cared about, and that the neighborhood was one in which, overall, nobody particularly cared when the tenant blasted thirty-year-old rock albums on vinyl at two in the morning.

In fact, a good number of his neighbors were the types who would crack a window for the occasion.

The garage was closed, but that did little to muffle the thunderous noise. The music was somewhere between EDM and rock, and for good reason. The two girls who sat across from one another fairly represented both avenues of music.

Penny sat cross-legged on a beat-up old couch, her bass guitar balanced in her arms and a wire trailed from it to the antique set of twenty-odd year old turntables that Vinyl Scratch was working at. Penny wore a clean white and red-striped tracksuit with a band shirt underneath it and socks on feet that twitched with the rhythm of their music. Vinyl wore a tank top and loose, ragged jeans that clearly got distressed the old fashioned way, and a pair of high-top sneakers. Her hand held one speaker of her headphones to an ear and she bobbed her head to the beat.

Both girls were grinning broadly as they blended their music, and both had a pair of pony ears sticking up from under their hair, and a faint glow around them. Vinyl’s ears were pale white and the glow that surrounded her was an icy glacial blue, while Penny had a pair of pink ears, and wings, and her glow was a riotous neon yellow.

They played, freestyling together for almost half an hour before Penny finally let out a breath and waved at Vinyl to shut the system down.

Sweat beaded Penny’s forehead, and she wiped at her brow as the glow around the pair of them faded, along with the fuzzy ears.

“Damn, girl,” Penny said with a laugh, “that was awesome! We’re gonna kick these goons out of Canterlot when they rear their heads!”

Vinyl gave a silent thumbs up, grinning as she did.

A knock came at the door, and Penny glanced up, smiling as she shouted: “it’s open!”

“Should damn well hope so,” an older man’s voice called out good-naturedly. “It’s my goddamn garage.”

The door creaked open, and man stepped into the garage. He was long, lean, and gangly, angular in a stretched sort of way that made his limbs look a bit too big for his body. He had dark green skin and darker green hair that hung roguishly ragged over his grey eyes which twinkled mischievously.

He had a wide mouth that had lines etched permanently around it, suggesting he smiled often enough that it had turned into his default expression. His whole body had a kind of twitchy, restless energy, and it showed most in his fingers.

“Hey Uncle Gun, thanks for letting us jam here,” Penny said fondly. “No way I’d get away with this at my place.”

“Well my sister used to be a lot more chill about shit til she married that asshole from the Heights,” Gun shot back. “Too bad, too, but I ain’t her keeper.”

Gunpowder Tea was, fittingly, the black sheep of the family. He rarely interacted with his sister except at family functions and wasn’t so much welcome as tolerated. Penny had taken after him to what her mother, Hibiscus Tea, considered to be an utterly unreasonable degree considering she didn’t even meet him until she was almost fourteen.

“Sweet tunes, though, Princess,” Gun said with a smirk. “And it’s cool as hell to have the DJ Pon-3 chilling in my garage.”

Vinyl just shrugged and gave Gun two thumbs up. He returned the gesture with a broad grin.

“Now not that I’m complaining about having my favorite niece over so often-” Gun began nonchalantly as he cracked open a beer.

“I’m your only niece, Uncle Gun,” Penny cut in, rolling her eyes.

“-but I gotta ask,” Gun continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Is everything alright at home, Penny?”

Penny expression soured and she shrugged. “As good as ever, Uncle G.”

Vinyl got up from her turntable and padded over to where Penny was sitting, dropped down beside her, and slung an arm over her shoulder, then shot Gunpowder a pointed look, letting her sunglasses tip down her nose so they could meet eyes.

Gunpowder sighed and nodded.

“Well your friend seems to think there’s something to talk about,” Gun said evenly.

“That’s cool, we could do that,” Penny said, a harsh edge to her voice, “or you could both mind your own business about it.”

Neither of them rose to the bait, Vinyl just hugged Penny tighter as Gunpowder took another sip of his beer.

“This about Hibiscus?” Gun asked.

Vinyl shook her head, and Penny glared up at the mute girl. “This isn’t anyone’s business but ours, Vee.”

“I figure my sister’s got something to do with this, since you’ve been coming here pretty much every other day,” Gun said evenly. “Also mighta gotten a call from her about an hour ago lettin’ me know you’d run away a few days back and for me to let her know if you turned up.”

Penny froze, staring down at the rug-covered floor of the garage, and Vinyl jerked in surprise as she stared down at Penny.

“Told her I would, but I didn’t, obviously,” Gun said with a shrug. “Also told her she treats you like a doll, and that’d make anyone run away.”

“Are you going to?” Penny asked in a small voice. “Tell her, I mean.”

Gunpowder shrugged. “Guess it depends on why you ran.”

Vinyl kept staring, her eyes burrowing into Penny who flinched away.

“I’m sorry Vee, I… I just… I couldn’t stay there anymore,” Penny said in a small voice. “I didn’t mean to hide it or lie,” her voice started getting tearful, “you don’t know what it’s like though… my mom, she hates everything about me!”

Gunpowder’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t try to contradict his niece, he just waited and listened as Vinyl’s expression softened and she pulled Penny closer.

Penny let out a bitter sob and buried her face against Vinyl’s chest.

“She hates my music, she hates my dreams…” Penny snarled, “it’s like the only thing she likes about me are things she’s made up about me in her own fucking head!” Her shoulders shook as she curled in on herself, and Vinyl moved her arms around Penny protectively. “Mom wants me to be someone I’m not and the fact that I fake doing it halfway is the only thing she likes about me! I hate her! I hate her and I hate dad! I hate them!”

The words poured from her like poison from an infected wound, and Gunpowder closed his eyes with a pained sigh.

“Hibby you dumb piece of shit,” Gun muttered under his breath.

“I want to have my own life, Uncle Gun,” Penny said, her voice turning quiet. “If I have to do it from the streets I will.”

“Yeah, no I believe you,” Gunpowder said with a nod. “I did pretty much the same thing, after all.”

Vinyl pulled back a little and signed at Penny who shook her head. “Sorry, c-could you slow down a little? I’m still not great at this.”

Nodding, Vinyl signed her message again, and Penny just shrugged.

“No, I haven’t been back to school at all,” Penny replied. “I figured that’s the first place she’d look. Second place would be Heldon’s, third would be here…”

“And when she files a missing persons report?” Gunpowder asked pointedly.

Penny just shook her head and laughed bitterly. “She won’t, she probably even got my absences excused as me being sick or something.”

“Ugh, I hate to admit it but you’re probably right,” Gunpowder replied, grimacing. “Hibiscus wouldn’t wanna risk anyone finding out her daughter had run off, it’d be humiliating.”

“And that’s all my mom really cares about,” Penny spat. “My friend ‘Dagi has been more of a mom to me the past few weeks than my actual fucking birth mother, how sad is that?”

Beside Penny, Vinyl pulled out her phone and began rapidly tap-tap-tapping away at it; Gunpowder and Penny stared for a moment before Penny just shook her head and turned back to her uncle.

“Penny… I’m not defending my sister here,” Gun said in a weary voice that didn’t match his face, “but… she does love you, she just thinks she knows what’s best, and neither God nor logic will tell her otherwise.”

“I don’t care,” Penny said angrily. “I’m done trying to live straddling the line of my mom's stupid expectations for how I’m supposed to live my life.”

Gunpowder sighed. “I guess I can’t very well argue with that.”

A pale hand tapped Penny’s leg gently and Vinyl gave her an earnest look. She had taken off her shades, fixing them in place amidst her tumbled mane of electric blue hair, and her bright red eyes were on full display. Vinyl handed Penny her phone, the notepad app was open and on it was a long message.

‘Penny,’ it read, ‘you never have to be anything but what you want or need to be. Whatever happens, just know that your friends: me and Octavia, Adagio and her sisters, Sunset and Gilda, we’ll all be there for you. Even if you leave your birth family behind, you will always have a family waiting for you with us.’

Tears trickled down Penny’s cheeks as she read and reread the message over and over, a small but genuine laugh slipping out. A feeling of relief settled over her that she hadn’t known for weeks.

Her uncle's hand settled over hers as he knelt beside her, his expression warm.

“Look Princess, I get not fitting in, alright?” Gunpowder said quietly. “Your mom was always our parents golden child, yknow? I was the disappointment of the family: never married, ‘wasted my life’ by their figuring.” He chuckled and shook his head. “But the way I see I’m living exactly how I feel like I ought to and I’m happy doing it, dunno if your mom is, I can’t speak for her, but all I want is for you be happy, alright kiddo?”

Penny nodded, wiping at her eyes and taking a deep breath. “W-What do I do?”

Vinyl flashed a few signs.

“Yeah, I’m eighteen, why?” Penny replied.

“She’s saying you’re a legal adult,” Gunpowder clarified. “Meaning, technically, you can just leave. Hibiscus can’t force you to come back if you don’t want to, but…”

“Where else would I go?” Penny said quietly. “I’ll uh… I’ll be honest, I’ve kinda been crashing at the training ground after everyone else leaves, Vee.”

Vinyl scowled and signed angrily.

“I know, but how was I supposed to ask any of you to put me up?” Penny grumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Reaching over, Vinyl flicked Penny across the nose and made more angry signs.

“Oh yeah…” Penny said sheepishly. “I guess ‘Dagi and her sisters do live in a literal mansion, huh?”

Vinyl slapped her palm to her face.

“And,” Gunpowder put in with an annoyed tone, “you know you can crash on my couch if you need to. You’re my niece, Princess, c’mon.”

Huffing with irritation, Vinyl flashed a few signs then snatched her phone back and started rapidly tapping away.

“No! Don’t!” Penny cried out in a panic.

Gunpowder raised an eyebrow. “What’s she doing?”

Penny flailed at Vinyl’s phone trying to get it away from her. “She’s telling on me! When Adagio finds out I didn’t come to her for help she’ll be livid!”

Vinyl didn’t stop typing as she glanced over at Penny with a single arched brow that said everything it needed to.

‘You deserve it.’

Chuckling, Gunpowder Tea stood up and brushed at the knees of his jeans. “You’ve got good friends, kiddo,” he said, smiling broadly, “I didn’t when I was your age, so trust me when I say: hold onto that.”

“I know,” Penny said quietly, a small smile tracing over her lips. “They’re the best friends a girl could ask for.”

Vinyl exchanged several messages over the next few minutes, and eventually looked up at Penny with an even expression. She signed, moving a bit slower than usual so Penny could keep up, and Penny just nodded. She grumbled a little, and winced a few times, but eventually she sighed and smiled.

“Tell her thank you for me,” Penny said, “and give her my love, okay?”

Vinyl nodded and went back to typing.

“So what’s up?” Gun asked as he dragged a chair up and sat down. “Everything good?”

“Adagio is going to have one of her sisters clear out one of their guest room,” Penny replied. “She’s also going to talk to her lawyers about changing my registered paperwork at the school so I can finish up.”

“Lawyers? Plural?” Gunpowder asked, surprised. “I thought this ‘Adagio’ was your age.”

Penny laughed nervously, her grin a little weak. “Uh, yeah, I mean… she’s a little older but, here…” Penny fished around in her pocket before producing her phone and pulling open the photos, “this is is all of us.”

Taking the phone, Gunpowder examined the photo. There were eight girls in it, all smiling big, broad, happy smiles. They were all close together; hugging and leaning on one another, except for the redhead in the middle who sat in a wheelchair with her hand tightly gripping the prosthetic hand of the tall, dark-skinned girl behind her.

They seemed to be in some kind of warehouse, but there were couches and rugs all around.

Something tickled at the back of Gun’s mind as he looked at the picture, and his eye traced over three girls, all grouped together, one of which, with a large poof of orange hair, had her left arm slung over Penny’s shoulders and an unbelievably cocky grin.

“That’s Adagio,” Penny said fondly. “And those are her sisters,” she pointed to the other girls at Adagio’s right, “Sonata and Aria.”

“No way,” Gunpowder whispered in a haunted voice. “No damn way.”

Penny blinked in surprise. “Uncle Gun? What’s wrong?”

“I know her,” Gunpowder pointed at Adagio. “Or… shit, maybe her mom? Fuck, she… she’s the spitting image.”

“Uh…” Penny glanced at Vinyl who just shrugged.

“It was Woodstock eighty-nine,” Gunpowder said in a low voice, staring as if transfixed by the image. “The ‘Forgotten’ Woodstock. It was a mess, basically just a bunch of roadies and music buffs who wanted to do something for the twentieth anniversary of Woodstock sixty-nine, y’know?”

“What happened?” Penny asked, slipping a little closer to her uncle who was still staring at the picture.

“Like I said, it was a mess,” Gun said, “no stage or lights at first, only food was what folks brought with them or traded for,” he reached out a finger to touch the image, as if he expected it to vanish. “Then this girl shows up, big crazy head of hair and a set of pipes in her like you wouldn’t believe! I had run away from home for the first time just to see that show, see? And I saw her: singing and dancing, wearing almost nothing but this wild body paint covering her… she was like some kinda old world priestess.”

Neither Vinyl nor Penny interrupted. They just waited and watched and listened as Gunpowder spoke, his voice almost reverent.

“No one was going near her, it’s like they were afraid, so I went up and sat down beside her in front of this big fire,” he continued, “and I took out papaw’s old acoustic six-string I’d brought with me.” Gunpowder closed his eyes and looked as if he was somewhere else for a moment. “I’d never played like that before and… I haven’t since. But I just… played whatever came to mind, I played and she sang and she danced, and I lost hours and hours… dunno when I passed out but when I woke up she was gone.”

Gunpowder sighed and looked down at his hands. There were old, tiny scars covering his fingers.

“I’d played til my fingers bled,” Gunpowder said quietly. “I asked around and everyone remembered her but no one got her name. They said she just swept in like a spirit and suddenly the whole place came to life…” Gun waved his hand emphatically, “people started working and building the place up… it went from this podunk anniversary to a concert with like, a hundred thousand people in a few days!”

“Wow,” Penny said quietly. “A-and then what happened?”

Gun shook his head. “Nothing, I looked everywhere for her, but it’s like she just vanished,” he sighed wistfully. “I chased that dragon for three years, obsessed with her, obsessed with playing for her again but… I never found her.”

“And you think… maybe it was her mom?” Penny asked, her voice a little weak.

“I guess it would’ve had to’ve been, y’know?” Gunpowder replied. “I mean, she looks like she couldn’t be much older than you, kiddo, and this was thirty years ago.” He chuckled dryly, “but goddamn, your friend looks just like her.”

“Heh, yeah, weird how that goes,” Penny replied, struggling to keep her face straight. “Guess she must be.”

“I wonder if her mom’s still around,” Gunpowder said hopefully. “Do you think you could ask her? I’d love to just talk to the lady for a minute.”

Penny barely kept the panic off of her face as she glanced at Vinyl who shrugged, then briefly signed: ‘it couldn’t hurt, right?’

“I… I guess,” Penny replied carefully, she didn’t want to shoot down her uncle, not after he’d done so much for her. “I’ll… I’ll call and ask, okay?”

Gun grinned massively. “Wild! I owe you one, kiddo!”

Penny speed-dialed Adagio’s number and waited as it rang. It only rang twice before Adagio picked up and answered, her voice terse.

//You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady,// Adagio’s voice was sharp with reproach, but Penny could hear the worry behind it.

“I know,” Penny replied, “and I’m super sorry, okay? But, uhm, I need to ask a favor.”

//Oh?// Adagio’s voice lilted musically on the other line, //that’s a bit ballsy considering you-//

“I know but please, ‘Dagi!” Penny chirped, cutting Adagio off. “I know I screwed up but this isn’t for me it’s… it’s for my uncle.”

//And why would I bother doing a favor for your uncle?//

“He… he just wants to talk to your mom,” Penny said, carefully stressing the last word. “He says he met her back in eighty-nine, at a concert.”

Silence stretched across the line, followed by a soft sigh.

“Please, ‘Dagi,” Penny said in a gentle voice. “This is important to me.”

//You want to make him smile,// Adagio said quietly. //Well, I suppose it is your Element after all, I can’t expect otherwise.//

“So you’ll-!”

//Do you trust him, love?// Adagio asked quietly, and Penny answered with an affirmative. //I see, then pass me over to him, dear,// Adagio said, her voice strangely clipped.

Penny’s face broke into a wide grin. “Sure thing, hold on!” She looked up at Gunpowder who looked hopeful. “Here, she wants to talk to you.”

Gunpowder raised an eyebrow. “Your friend does?” Penny nodded, so he shrugged and took the phone. “H-Hello? My name is Gunpowder Tea, I… I was hoping I might tak to, uh, I guess she might be your mother?”

//Woodstock eighty-nine, was it?//

Blinking in surprise, Gunpowder found himself nodding dully before recalling he was on the phone and answered: “Uh… yeah, that’s right.”

The voice on the other side of the phone was enchanting, but more than that it woke memories in him that were so intense they were like a flashback.

Even after thirty years had passed, Gunpowder could still close his eyes and see her: wild and free, and somehow untethered from the world, and her voice had been utterly and uniquely perfect.

The same voice that was speaking to him now.

Swallowing hard, Gunpowder found his own voice after a moment. “Sorry, Miss c-can I-?”

Another sigh. //I’m afraid the woman you met that day is no longer among us, Mister Tea.//

Gunpowder felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, and he sagged. “O-oh, that’s… well… I… I’m so sorry to hear that, my c-condolences.”

He was about to hand the phone back when he heard another sigh.

//You had an old rosewood acoustic,// she said quietly, her voice warm and nostalgic. //Six strings, and you played for m-... for her at the fire.//

Gunpowder felt his mouth go dry. “Y-Yeah, that’s right, that’s exactly right! S-She told you?!”

//She remembers you,// Adagio said quietly. //In fact, I think you were the only thing about that concert that was worth remembering at all.// Another quiet sigh passed over the phone. //Your playing was beautiful, and… and her only regret was that you had torn up those long lovely fingers of yours to make music for her.//

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Miss,” Gunpowder said, his voice thick with tears. “Your mother inspired me to make my own way in the world, to live my own truth.” He lifted a hand to his face and covered his eyes as a few tears leaked out. “I’m sorry she’s not with us anymore but if it means anything… she touched my life, and even though I’ll never speak to her I’ll always be grateful to her.”

The other line was silent for long enough that Gunpowder was started to wonder if they’d been disconnected. Just as he was about to check, though, she spoke again.

//Thank you, Mister Tea, for telling me that,// Adagio said quietly, and Gun imagined he could hear tears through her voice. //You really have no idea how much it means to me to hear those words.//

“Thank you, Miss,” Gunpowder replied, his voice catching. “I never imagined she would remember someone like me and, knowing that she did, well… God, I can’t even tell you how that feels.”

//You are most welcome,// she replied softly.

“If it’s not too much to ask,” Gunpowder put in after a moment of hesitation, “I never did learn her name.”

//Her name? Oh, well it’s no great secret,// she said with a small laugh. //It just so happens we share a name, tradition you know… so the woman you met, her name was also Adagio Dazzle.//

Gunpowder closed his eyes and nodded, and for a moment he couldn’t stop smiling. All those years and he finally knew her name:

Adagio Dazzle.

“Thank you, Miss,” Gun said finally. “Thank you so much.”

//Anytime, Mister Tea.//

The line disconnected and Gunpowder lowered the phone with a look of something like awe on his face.

“Well don’t that beat all,” Gun muttered, grinning massively. “I’ve been wondering about this lady for most of my life, then outta nowhere her daughter and my niece end up best friends? Makes a guy wonder about a few other things…”

Penny lifted her hand to her the necklace and its gleaming fretboard symbol, brushing her fingers over it and feeling her heart swell at the smile on her uncle’s face. The Element had a strong, steady pulse to it that made her fingers buzz.

“Yeah, heckuva thing, huh?” Penny said happily.

The moment was interrupted by a loud knocking at the front door. Gunpowder furrowed his brow and got up, waving at the pair silently to stay sitting while he went to the front.

He was gone all of two minutes before he returned with a look of concern on his face that he directed at Penny.

“Heldon’s at the door,” Gun said quietly, “you didn’t mention you ghosted him, too.”

Penny went pale and wilted back into the couch as both her uncle and Vinyl glared at her.

“That boy has too good a heart to be treated that way, Penny,” Gunpowder admonished her. “He doesn’t deserve that.”

“It’s not about that…” Penny said quietly. “I’m… I’m not trying to hurt him or get rid of him or anything… it’s something else.”

Gunpowder raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? This better be good, ‘cause I like that kid.”

Penny clenched her eyes shut and let out a breath. She couldn’t tell her uncle that she was trying to protect Heldon because then he’d ask what she’s protecting him from. She couldn’t tell him either, for the same reason and because it sounded crazy.

A slight tapping on her shoulder interrupted Penny’s thoughts, and she looked up at Vinyl.

‘Explain it to him’ she signed. ‘Your boyfriend deserves to know.’

“But-!”

Vinyl put a finger over her mouth and shook her head.

Sagging, Penny nodded.

“Can… can you tell him to come in here?” Penny asked quietly. “And… maybe give us a couple hours in private? There are some things we need to talk about, I guess.”

Gunpowder relaxed a little and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that… just, be kind to the guy, alright? He loves the hell outta you, kiddo.”

“I know,” Penny said quietly. “And he deserves better than this.”

Vinyl gathered up her things and put a hand on Penny’s shoulder, silently asking if she wanted support, but Penny just shook her head.

“Thanks Vee, but I need to do this myself,” Penny said softly, giving Vinyl’s hand a faint squeeze before letting go.

Nodding, Vinyl sketched a mock salute and followed Gunpowder out of the garage. They closed the door behind them, leaving Penny to her thoughts; thoughts about what to say and how to say it. About what needed to be said and what could be held back.

Nothing, was the answer Penny struck on. If she was going to be fair to Heldon, nothing could be held back.

A small, almost hesitant knock sounded out the door to the garage. It opened a moment later, and Heldon Tenor stepped lightly into the room, concern and worry on his grey-scale features. He was wearing a loose blue button-down shirt that was stained a little with rain and sweat, and his jeans had mud on them. His hair was matted slightly to his head from the rain outside.

“So here you are,” Heldon said after a moment, his voice clear and strong.

Penny relaxed the moment she heard it. He had the loveliest voice, and it was one of the reasons she’d gone all aflutter when he’d asked her out.

One among many reasons.

“Here I am,” Penny agreed weakly, spreading her arms a little.

Heldon shook his head in disbelief. “I guess… let’s get the worst out of the way… are you breaking up with me? Is that why you just-”

“NO!” Penny cried, “no I’m… I’m not! I swear I’d never want to!” Tears trickled down her cheeks as she felt her heart clench. This was her fault and she had to make it right. “I ran away from home because I couldn’t take my mom anymore, Heldon, it was never about you!”

“Then what about the last month and a half?!” Heldon asked, his jaw tightening. “We went from spending every other day together to me barely even seeing you in the halls!”

“That was something else,” Penny said quietly. “And I’ll tell you everything if you give me a chance, on two conditions.”

Heldon narrowed his eyes for a moment, then slackened a little and sighed.

“I don’t deserve this,” Heldon said stiffly, after a moment.

“Nope,” Penny said, popping her lips a little on the ‘p’ sound. “You deserve a lot better and… and a lot safer than me… and you deserve a lot more stable than me.”

Shaking his head, Heldon strode forward and sat down on the far side of the couch from Penny, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring straight forward.

“What conditions?” Heldon asked quietly.

Penny let out a breath of relief. “You cannot, ever, tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, okay? It’s not just my secret it’s… it could hurt a lot of people.”

“Fair enough, I guess,” Heldon allowed, shrugging slightly. “I can’t really argue with that, so what’s the second?”

“No trying to convince me not to do what I’m about to tell you about.”

Heldon stiffened again, then turned his head and fixed his eyes on her carefully.

“That doesn’t sound suspicious or anything,” Heldon said, a hint of anger coloring his tone. “You can’t ask me to do that when I don’t know what you’re going to tell me! That’s not fair!”

Penny flinched. Heldon was always the calm one between them; the voice of reassurance and reason. He kept her grounded and she loved him for it. He never got angry or worked up like this… Penny sighed, at least it meant he still cared.

“I know it’s not,” Penny agreed, “but if it helps, you couldn’t convince me anyway… I just… I don’t want you feeling like you failed or something dumb like that.”

“You sound like you’re about to go to war,” Heldon said in a dark voice. “We’re teenagers what could be such a big deal?”

“Yes or no, Heldon,” Penny said, staring straight down and bending every once of her will to not cry. “I’m sorry but… I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t really that important.”

Heldon shook for a moment, a brief, angry shiver, and smacked his hand against the arm of the couch and snapped out:

“Fine!”

Penny sagged, she knew she’d pushed him too far. Even if they came out of this she wasn’t sure Heldon would ever trust her like he had before. She’d hurt him, badly, and she was paying for it.

“Okay,” Penny said finally, “you said I sound like I’m going to war, well… I kind of am.”

Heldon stared, cocking his head in confusion. “What?”

“On January twenty-fifth I went to the park to meet Sunset, remember?” Penny said quietly. “You had practice so you couldn’t come.”

“I guess I remember, yeah,” Heldon said, shrugging. “What’s that got to do with anything.”

Penny waved a hand.

“I’m getting there!” She said in an agitated voice. “Sorry, just… that day changed everything. This is going to sound crazy but… magic is real, Heldon, I mean like… really real, and it’s insanely dangerous.”

Heldon held up a hand palm up.

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Heldon said quietly. “I… I don’t want to say ‘crazy’ but you… you know how that sounds, right?”

“I know,” Penny said softly. “Believe me I know… but I’ve seen someone sing and lift a thousand pounds, I’ve seen someone move so fast they turn into a blur, I’ve seen someone throw lightning and…” Penny clenched mouth shut, pressing her lips to a thin line. “And then there’s what I can do.”

Heldon raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I don’t need you to believe me out of hand,” Penny said quietly. “Let me show you.”

Penny reached down and picked up her bass guitar from where she’d lain it during the conversation with her uncle. It sat easily in her arms, and it was quite possibly the only good memory she could readily bring to mind about her mother. Hibiscus Tea had bought her the guitar for her birthday three years ago; an indulgence for her hobby, but Penny knew it was more of a bribe so she would keep toeing the line. It was just her mother’s way, after all: so long as Penny was kept happy enough, she would keep doing at least an approximation of what her mother wanted.

Now, though, it was so much more than a reminder of her gilded cage.

The moment Penny’s fingers struck the strings of the bass her whole body sang with a sort of quiet thrum. It reminded Penny of when you flicked a bass string hard with your finger and then let it sit; the string would vibrate on its own for a while, and you could hear it in the air around it, even feel it.

On instinct, Penny began picking out a bassline, a simple and upbeat rhythm that got both her and Heldon’s foot tapping almost immediately.

Then a soft yellow radiance began to suffuse Penny, sinking into the air around her like a mist of energy. The energy came to life as Penny started increasing the complexity of her playing, and as she focused, the yellow light turned to a bright, neon yellow that snapped and whirled like a living thing.

Heldon stared in mute disbelief as she played, his eyes drawn up to her head where a pair of adorable pink ears had just poked up out of her blue hair.

“Am I high?” Heldon asked hollowly. “Did I drop acid on the way here and forget or something? What the…”

“I can do more than glow,” Penny said with a smirk.

Then she gripped her pick hard and struck the strings, hitting a perfect chord that sent chills up Heldon’s spine.

Suddenly the world seemed to brighten. Colors were more saturated, even the air felt more real, and better than that? He felt like he could take on the whole world with his bare fists. Motivation, followed by something deeper and more fulfilling, surged through him and before he knew it he was on his feet, practically vibrating.

He wanted to dance, to sing, to leap from a stage into a crowd of roaring people and ride it all the way to the back.

Then the music stopped.

Heldon felt the intensity wash away, but it didn’t take everything. There was still that faint sense of meaning, of purpose, that crawled up his limbs and demanded he do something.

“What the hell was that?” Heldon breathed, looking down at his hands. “I feel like I just ran a mile and punched a bear in the mouth and now I want to do it again.”

Penny chuckled. “Yeah… that was my magic, actually… we’re all pretty musically inclined, except Gilda that is, but I’m pretty much a literal Bard from like, Ogres and Oubliettes.”

“So you… what, inspire people?” Heldon asked, shaking the nervous energy from his limbs as he sat down.

“Sort of… it’s more than that though,” Penny said quietly, stroking her guitar fondly. “It’s that feeling you get when the bass drops just right, or when the lead guitar hits that note, you know the one: ka-ki~ing, and then your whole body vibrates and you get goosebumps?” Penny closed her eyes and lifted her head up like she was listening to some inaudible music. “It’s like a tall glass of water, and you take a drink and suddenly realise that you’re craving it and you down the whole thing in a second… it’s the feeling that goes up your leg when you hit a soccer ball just right and it goes flying past the trees…” Penny opened her eyes and sighed. “I don’t know if there’s a word for it that really describes it, but-”

“I know,” Heldon said quietly, “I felt it.”

“It’s all of us,” Penny said, pulling her pendant free from under her shirt and letting it hang from her neck. “Element Bearers, she called us… I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean, but apparently I’m the Element of ‘Laughter’.”

Heldon reached out and took the delicate-looking pendant in the palm of his hand. It was beautiful and small, and yet even just holding it he could feel… something. A pulse like a heartbeat, and a sense of being… observed.

Watched.

Judged.

His breath caught in his throat and Heldon dropped the pendant. Suddenly he was positive he didn’t want to touch it again. He had a distinct feeling that whatever he had felt knew that he been holding it and was testing him.

“It’s weird right?” Penny said with a weak smile. “It’s like it’s alive… I think it is, kind of anyway… at first it creeped me the hell out. I left it on my nightstand once when I went to school and it kept showing up in random-ass places… my backpack, my locker, I even found it in my mashed potatoes at lunch.”

“That is super creepy,” Heldon agreed.

“Yup, me and my weird horror-movie laughter jewelry,” Penny said, giving Heldon a brittle smile. “So that’s… that’s the first part.”

“You said you were going to war,” Heldon repeated, his voice hardening.

Penny shrugged. “Yeah, and… no… I dunno, all I know is that the Element Bearers are like… protectors. Power and responsibility and all that jazz, y’know?”

“Okay, but I get the feeling it’s like… a little more immediate than that,” Heldon pressed, and Penny wrapped her arms around herself and nodded.

“There’s… this guy,” Penny began, her voice low and a little scared. “He's like, some kind of crimelord, but he’s got this wicked bad magic… and his daughter, or adopted daughter I guess, has these haunted gauntlets with a demon in them…” Penny laughed weakly, “god this sounds so cheesy and bad but it’s honestly fucking horrifying. That storm a month back? That was just the demon taking a deep, fucking, breath, like, that was it just existing! And this ganglord? He’s a straight up murderer.” Her face hardened as she kept going. “And his daughter, right? She’s Gilda’s sister… and then there’s her girlfriend, apparently she’s got magic too? And now… now Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust, her girl, are on their side… at least we think so…”

Penny let her voice fall away and silence descended on the garage. For a time there was no sound but Penny periodically plucking a bass string, then letting the note trail off into nothingness.

Taking a deep breath, Penny turned to Heldon and smiled wanly. “And we’re the only thing between them and whatever the hell it is they’re going to do which, by the way, we don’t even know!” Penny chuckled and shook her head. “And y’know what?”

Heldon felt his mouth dry up but he met Penny’s eyes evenly. “What?”

“It doesn’t matter that we don’t know,” Penny replied. “Our magic might literally be the only thing stopping some kind of apocalyptic storm demon from leveling half of Canterlot,” she shook her head and laughed again. “That’s what the Elements are for, they’re for stopping these bad things from happening! It’s the whole reason they exist! It’s the reason they chose bearers! To give good people a fighting chance against the piss-and-shit darkness!”

“And that’s why I can’t convince you not to do this, huh?” Heldon said, feeling the weight of finality settle over them.

Penny nodded. “Yup, because all my life I’ve wanted to make people smile and play music for them, and all kinds of great shit, but… if I walked away from this and something bad happened because I’d cut and run?” Sighing, Penny leaned back against the couch and strummed her bass. “Pretty sure I’d never smile again…”

“And if you get hurt?” Heldon asked, his voice small and fragile. “If you… if you die?”

Shivering, Penny clutched her bass to her like a lifeline and let out a small sob.

“Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that?” Penny said softly. “I have nightmares about it… but…”

“But what?!” Heldon exclaimed. “We’re just kids, Penny! This isn’t our job!”

“It’s not anyone’s job, Heldon!” Penny snapped back. “Because it’s not a job! It’s just something has to be done!”

Gripping her bass tight, Penny stood tall on the couch, balanced herself precariously, then raised her right hand, gripping the pick, and slammed it down over the strings.

The garage erupted into neon yellow light and bass, and Heldon blanched as Penny's ears came out and wings flared from her back. Suddenly she wasn’t just a teenage girl anymore, she was something more… something powerful. The bass seemed to thrum around her like a living thing, rattling the walls and windows, and making the air around her quake with some kind of purpose.

“I’m not just Pennyroyal Tea anymore, Heldon,” Penny said, staring down at him. “I’m the Element of Laughter, and I’m not going to abandon my friends! If they fight, then I’ll be right there next to them, and if they… if they die?” the light flickered as a sob slipped past her lips, and the next words came out weak but honest, “if they die… then I hope I go first.”

“Why?” Heldon whispered. “Just… why?”

“You’ve never seen her like she really is, Heldon,” Penny said quietly, the air around her still glowing and shaking with power. “Sunset, I mean, because when she talks us up it’s like she’s on fire and that fire just spreads to us; she can teach and bolster and she always knows the right words…” Penny gripped the bass tight for a moment, then hopped off of the couch and planted it at her feet like a knights longsword. “I never got it before, right? All those dumb war stories and novels about soldiers saying they’d follow their crazy-ass leader into the teeth of hell, but when Sunset gets going?” Penny shook her head and her smile became bright and calm. “You don’t get it Heldon… she’s not just like, a leader, or some wise wizardess, or something… it’s easier than that. I’m not just doing this because I have to, because I don’t… I’m not doing it because I want to, even though I do… I’m doing it because following Sunset Shimmer means I get to follow a hero.”

“And what if she gets all of you killed?” Heldon asked bitterly. “If she makes the wrong call?”

“I don’t think she will,” Penny replied, shaking her head. “Make the wrong call, I mean… she’s too smart for that… plus I trust her. No, I think if we lose it’ll be after we all give it our best, but if that is how it goes?” Penny sighed and dropped to the couch, the light fading from around her, “I guess I’ll die doing the right thing, y’know? And that’s way more than most people in this dumb world can say.”

“And I’ll be the one to bury you,” Heldon said angrily, tears slipping down his cheeks. “This isn’t fair.”

“Nope, it’s really not,” Penny agreed. “But if it makes you feel better,” she said quietly, and Heldon looked up and met her gaze, and Penny smiled encouragingly, “if we all cark it at the Games, then everyone else in a ten-mile radius is probably like a minute behind us at best.”

Heldon snorted and laughed. “That’s awful!”

“It sure is,” Penny agreed, laughter bubbling up from her.

For several moments the pair just laughed the kind of helpless, giggling, hysterical laughter of the desperate and terrified. They clung to one another, laughing as they leaned hard to keep each other sitting up through their fits of hysterics. It took time but it passed, and eventually they were both lying back on the couch, Penny curled up in Heldon’s arms as they stared at the ceiling.

“You really trust her that much?” Heldon asked quietly after a few moments, one arm draped over his forehead and the other curled protectively around Penny.

“Sunset?” Penny asked, and Heldon nodded. “Yeah, I do… like I said, you’ve never really seen her at full tilt and, honestly, I’m not sure I have either… and that’s both terrifying and awesome at the same time.”

“I really hope she’s as incredible as you say,” Heldon said finally, sighing and pulling Penny closer. “I… I love you, Penny.”

“I know,” Penny replied, pulling herself to press her lips to his. “I love you too, and that’s another reason I’m fighting.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to convince me to leave Canterlot,” Heldon said with a small chuckle, but Penny just shook her head.

“You wouldn’t even if I tried,” Penny said, and Heldon gave an affirmative shrug. “And… and besides,” Penny said, her voice trailing off, “the truth is… I have this really bad feeling that even if you did… if we don’t win this one?” Penny clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes, “if we fuck this up, I don’t think there’s a place you could go where it would even matter.”

Sunset collapsed against the bed, Gilda was braced over her panting, propped up on her one good arm. They were both flushed with exertion, smiling dazedly at each other for a moment before Gilda slowly lowered herself to nuzzle against Sunset’s nose, kissing her lightly.

“If I knew this was what you were planning when you wanted me to take a day off,” Sunset said, laughing breathlessly, “I’d have put up less of a fight about it.”

Gilda laughed her worn, raspy laugh as she leaned to the left to drop herself next to Sunset and curl around her.

“Hah, bullshit Sunshine, you’da just felt worse about puttin’ up a fight,” Gilda retorted. “Can’t burn y’self out though, won’t do us any good if you’re dead on your feet.”

“Figuratively speaking?” Sunset asked, a wry smile on her face.

“Fuck, ya know what I mean, Sunflower,” Gilda said, waving her hand back and forth. “We need ya at fightin’ prime, same as any of us, and ya ain’t gonna be that if you never take a breather, savvy?”

Sunset turned and curled in to nestle against Gilda, taking a deep breath of her scent as she traced her fingers over the young woman’s dark, muscular arms.

She was stronger now, her whole body more defined thanks to weeks upon weeks of punishing Hyperkine training under Aria’s watchful eye. With the magic, Gilda’s body strengthened faster, repaired itself faster, and rebuilt muscle faster.

There was a leanness to Gilda now that hadn’t been there when they’d first met. A kind of feline, long-limbed swagger when she moved that suggested the danger she posed. Aria hadn’t just taught her to control her magic, she had taught Gilda how to fight, and not the backalley street boxing she’d learned in Las Pegasus either. Aria had taught her to balance her weight, and how to pivot and move to leverage her greater mass against an opponent.

Strength, speed, precision, and power; Gilda had all of it now. Where before she moved with a kind of violent tension in her, now she was loose and ready with every step.

Sunset couldn’t help but be proud.

“Once the shit hits the fan, Gil, I’m just a useless liability,” Sunset said, and her voice was even, if a little resigned. “My magic is gone, I can’t figure out how to ignite my Element, and I’m a cripple… doing work now is all I might be good for.”

Gilda sighed and curled her arm around Sunset, drawing her close. “You ain’t useless, Sunshine, you’re the shotcaller. Without you we ain’t got a plan.”

“But on the field I’m a big glowing weak spot for the team,” Sunset retorted, her voice becoming heated.

Gilda sat up and stretched, and despite herself Sunset couldn’t help but lick her lips a little. The curve and angle of Gilda’s body was gorgeous, and the incongruously pale lichtenberg figures left behind as lightning scars were like artful tattoos.

Before Gilda could respond, Sunset pulled herself up and draped her naked body against Gilda’s broad, muscular back; brushing her lips against Gilda’s clavicle and shoulders.

Gilda hummed in delighted appreciation at the gentle touches.

This was how they had spent almost the entire day. Together in bed, holding onto one another as though either of them might turn to mist and vapor if they looked away. The world had spun into chaos for the pair of them and, with that in mind, Gilda had spent the better part of a week begging, cajoling, and threatening to get Sunset to take a day off from training the others at the warehouse in the midst of also doing her duties as Captain of the team for the Friendship Games.

Sunset had, eventually, capitulated, with her only condition being a request.

‘Distract me.’

So Gilda had.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Sunset asked quietly.

It was the sort of question couples asked one another playfully, Sunset knew, but at the moment she honestly couldn’t recall if the words had ever passed her lips, or if they’d just remained as thoughts.

“Beautiful ain’t really my thing, Sunflower,” Gilda said with a cocked smile. “I’ve heard ‘swole’, thick, and a few others that were a shitload less flattering, though.”

“You are, Gil,” Sunset said, her voice still low as she trailed kisses across Gilda’s bare back. “You’re so beautiful that sometimes I can barely breathe and look at you at the time.”

Gilda tensed for a moment, then let out a slow breath. “Sunshine… c’mon, ya don’t gotta butter me up or anything… I know what I look like.”

Sunset just shook her head, letting Gilda feel the gesture as Sunset rested her forehead against Gilda’s smooth, warm back.

“I don’t think you do,” Sunset replied after a moment. “I really don’t.”

“Ain’t that big’a deal t’me, alright?” Gilda said stiffly. “I’m fine lookin’ how I do… especially since it means I can take care of you… protect ya and all that?”

Sunset chuckled softly, scooted back on the bed, and pulled Gilda down until she was laying on her back with her head in Sunset’s lap.

Idly, Sunset toyed with Gilda’s wonderful, pale white hair. It was like strands of warm snow between her fingers, soft and ticklish. One of her favorite things about being with Gilda, among a legion of reasons, was that she could freely play with Gilda’s hair whenever she wanted.

It was just so pretty.

“And I’m not buttering you up, Gil,” Sunset said with a small laugh. “I think we’re pretty much past that part of our relationship.”

Gilda rolled her eyes and relaxed under Sunset’s gentle, insistent touches on her scalp.

“Ya ever think about how it hasn’t actually been all that long?” Gilda asked in a low voice. “Like… November, yeah? It’s been what? Six months?”

“Maybe a little less,” Sunset agreed, still toying with Gilda’s hair, her expression remaining unchanged. “Does it matter?”

Gilda shrugged. “Guess not… not sayin’ it’s wrong, obviously, just feels… weird.”

“You’re the one who said it best though, didn’t you?” Sunset chided Gilda playfully. “What was it you said at the portal that night? ‘It’s not like there’s an arbitrary goalpost I need to run through before I figure out who I want to spend my life with’ or something?”

Gilda blushed. “I uh, I don’t think I managed to get the whole thing out before I realised I was sayin’ it out loud.”

“So what changed?” Sunset asked, cocking her head. “Why ask now?”

Shrugging, Gilda sighed and closed her eyes. All the better to focus on the feeling of Sunset touching her.

“Guess I was just realising how fast things’ve gone, y’know?” Gilda said. “Like I said, not bad just weird.”

“Not really, if you consider who we are as people,” Sunset said with a wry chuckle. “I mean, is it any wonder we latched onto each other and never looked back?”

Frowning, Gilda stared up at Sunset. “I ain’t followin’, Sunflower.”

“Well,” Sunset said with a small laugh, “I’m a control freak with deep-seated abandonment issues, two-thirds of a god complex, and who desperately clings to stability and affection while trusting neither…”

Gilda opened her eyes, raised an eyebrow up at Sunset, looked pensive for a moment and then shrugged and nodded.

“Sounds right.”

“While you,” Sunset prodded Gilda on the forehead, “have had everything you’ve ever stood on ripped out from under you not once but twice,” Gilda grimaced but nodded again, “been told you’re inferior almost all your life, have an angry streak a mile wide, a martyr complex about as long, and are just as desperate for something real as I am.”

“Wow, ya didn’t hafta say it out loud like that, Sunshine,” Gilda grumbled, staring off to the side. “Guess y’not wrong, though… so what? We’re like two buildings who fell over just right and managed to prop each other up?”

“I mean… sort of,” Sunset said quietly. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing though, right?”

“Guess not,” Gilda replied. “Honestly, I figure we’re just lucky neither of us turned out t’be toxic assholes, savvy?” Sunset nodded grimly at that. “Because let’s be real here, Sunflower, I don’t think either’a us woulda left, even if that was the case.”

“Dodged a bullet there, huh?” Sunset admitted, before shaking her head and shrugging. “My point, though, is that we grew up way too fast, right?”

“Pretty much,” Gilda grunted.

“But,” Sunset continued, “we’re strong enough to hold each other up,” she ticked a finger up, “smart enough to talk like adults about our mental shit, clever enough to work around it, and we love each other like crazy…” Sunset leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, sighing. “And honestly that’s better than a lot of people do, right?”

“Yeah, suppose that ain’t wrong, Sunshine,” Gilda allowed.

“We went fast because we wanted to go fast,” Sunset said, smiling lightly. “Was it a gamble? Yeah it was… it was crazy risky and we could’ve really hurt each other but that’s not what happened.”

“So we’re a gamble that paid off?” Gilda asked with a chuckle.

“I mean that’s pretty much every relationship in the history of ever,” Sunset pointed out blithely. “But we did sort of go all in emotionally a lot faster than other, less damaged, people might’ve.”

“Cool,” Gilda said still chuckling as she reached up and stroked Sunset’s cheek. “Well, I always was lucky at gambling.”

“Guess this is all your fault then, because I’m unlucky as shit,” Sunset said cheekily. “It’s why I’m so good at cheating.”

The pair of them shared a laugh, and Sunset couldn't keep the smile off of her face at Gilda’s bright expression.

“Seriously though, going back to my main point,” Sunset said, prodding Gilda again. “You are beautiful, and gorgeous, and pretty, and a lot of other words that belong in a cheesy romance novel.”

Gilda chuckled. “The kind that’s got the words ‘milky white breasts’ in’em?”

“Pretty much,” Sunset said, laughing. “Basically I’m just real gay for you, savvy?”

“Doesn’t change the fact that beauty don’t look like me, though,” Gilda said pointedly, fixing Sunset with a wry look.

Sunset sighed, blowing out an annoyed breath.

“Beauty,” she said heatedly, “looks like whatever the person thinks is beautiful, babe,” Sunset flicked Gilda’s nose frustratedly. “You’ve heard the phrase: ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’, right?”

Gilda wrinkled her nose but nodded.

“Well I’m the one holding all the bees here, okay?” Sunset said indignantly. “I’ve got hives of bees up in this bitch! If I were allergic to bees I’d be going into anaphylactic shock over here!”

Gilda was barely holding back her laughter, but the slightly defeated look on Sunset’s face spoiled her humor.

“Why can’t you see it?” Sunset pleaded softly. “You’re so, so beautiful… you’ve got this gorgeous dark skin, wonderfully soft white hair, lips that I literally cannot kiss enough, and your eyes,” Sunset brushed some of Gilda’s hair from her brow revealing her sharp, golden eyes. “Written’s Quill, Gilda, your eyes are so stupid pretty.”

“Sunflower… I-”

“So what if you’re taller than other girls?!” Sunset snapped fiercely. “So what if you’ve got muscle and broad shoulders? I think your body is fucking beautiful, Gil!”

Gilda had wrapped her arm around her still-naked body almost shyly, as if she were trying to hide the parts of herself Sunset was naming, but Sunset reached out to grip Gilda’s arm and pull it away.

“Don’t ever hide from me, Gil,” Sunset begged softly. “I love looking at you… at every inch of you, always… okay?”

It wasn’t conscious, but it happened anyway. As Sunset said those words, Gilda’s bright golden eyes trailed down to stare at the stump of her right arm, traced with brilliantly pale scars and covered in clean bandages to hide the still-tender scar tissue.

Sunset shivered and wrapped her own arms around herself as a surge of guilt climbed up her throat.

“I… I’m sorry,” Sunset said quietly, and Gilda blinked in confusion before realising she was looking at her arm. “I tried… I’m sorry…”

“Sunshine, c’mon…” Gilda said softly, sitting up and wrapping her arm around Sunset. “I toldja it ain’t your fault.”

“Feels like it is…” Sunset said from where she rested her lips against the hollow of Gilda’s throat. “Feels like I hurt you… like I broke you, baby.”

Gilda buried her nose halfway into Sunset’s hair and breathed out a deep sigh.

“You didn’t make my sister hate me enough t’try and kill me,” Gilda said sternly, “and honestly, I’m thinkin’ if magic weren’t ever a thing, she’d probably’ve just fuckin’ shot me or somethin’, y’know?” Sunset stiffened in Gilda’s embrace at the thought. “So I figure since you had magic that’s the only reason I scraped through that shitshow, savvy?”

Sunset nodded quietly, then pulled herself up to press her lips to Gilda’s, letting herself mold against the taller, stronger young woman and let her own strength slip away.

Maybe it was selfish but she wanted Gilda to hold her up for a little while. To take her burden off of her for a while.

“Hey Gilda?” Sunset said softly.

Gilda straightened a little to meet Sunset’s eyes as she took Gilda’s hand, placed it right under her navel, then started pointedly moving it lower.

“Distract me.”

So Gilda did.

It was early in the morning, or at least early enough that one could still be convinced it was night.

Gilda slept soundly beside Sunset, who was laying on her side and staring at her, and she was terrified.

It was like a cold, bottomless pit of deafening silence in the back of her throat.

She was terrified of losing Gilda. Of losing any of the people who were trusting her.

She was terrified of being a failure. Of never figuring out how to ignite the catalytic Element that Princess Twilight was so certain she possessed, and of being the reason that they wouldn’t be able to harness the power of those Elements at a crucial moment.

She was terrified of being helpless. Her magic was gone, she was empty. Every time she reached for her power there was just a void… an open and gnawing emptiness. It made her a liability to her team, a teammate who couldn’t protect themselves needed to be, by definition, protected by at least one of the others.

That meant they weren’t fighting to their fullest, which in turn made them vulnerable.

What if she was the reason Gilda died?

Or Octavia?

Or Adagio?

Or Penny, or Vinyl, or literally any of the other kids at the school?

Sunset wasn’t stupid, she knew what she was doing. She could have had Celestia and Luna cancel the games, withdraw and accept a defeat on their record to join the dozen or so others. It would have almost certainly kept whatever Storm was planning from coming to fruition.

That time, anyway.

And there was the rub.

The Friendship Games were the one time that Sunset knew that Storm would have to show his face.

Sunset knew precisely when and where Storm was going to make his play and that gave them an opportunity to stop him. To bait out his plan and all of his limited resources and close the gate on him for good.

It was their best possible chance.

It might be their only chance.

Sunset curled in on herself, her stomach twisting as she grimaced and tried to keep from crying.

It was all fine so long as she didn’t think about the fact that she was using an entire school of kids plus whoever was present to watch the games as bait.

It was all fine so long as she didn’t think too hard about how many actual kids she was putting in the line of fire to buy her and her team a chance to nail Storm for good.

So long as she didn’t think about how all it would take would be one errant bolt of lightning from Gilda’s demon-possessed sister to turn a stadium stand into a horror show. Or some dark magic thrown in the wrong direction to snuff out a dozen lives in an instant.

“I’m no princess,” Sunset muttered bitterly, her voice inaudible to the slumbering Gilda. “Princesses do the right thing. They protect their people. They don’t weigh the lives of others against the greater good and find those lives wanting.”

‘But a General does,’ a nasty voice in the back of Sunset’s mind whispered. ‘You’re not a princess, you’re barely even Equestrian… no, you’re very… very… human.’

Sunset curled in on herself, feeling her guts churn again with self-hatred. She couldn’t keep her eyes open, she was exhausted, but when she closed them all she could see was the faces of her friends, her peers, her teachers, her family… all dead because she put them in harm’s way.

This was her decision.

To take a risk not just with her lives and the lives of the people who basically knew what they were getting into, but to risk the lives of hundreds of innocent and completely unaware bystanders because the only other option would be putting the kibosh on Storm’s plan early, and giving him all the time in the world to concoct a new plan, build up more resources, and probably end up as a magnitudes-bigger threat than he was now.

“I did everything I could,” Sunset whispered to herself. “Shining and the CPD will start evacuating everyone when it starts… Cadence, Celestia, and Luna will be ready to make sure everyone escapes…”

She wished the words sounded more certain and less like she was just trying to convince herself that her half-assed contingency to cover the frankly egregious levels of potential collateral damage her plan required would be worth a damn.

Sunset felt her stomach pitch a fit and she bolted upright, desperately clamping her hand over her mouth as she felt nausea slam into her like a star boxer had just gut-checked her. She dragged air in through her nostrils, trying to calm the roil in her stomach. It was no use, she pulled herself as carefully from the bed as she could, dragged herself into her chair and wheeled into the bathroom.

Only a monumental effort of will got her to the toilet in time. Once inside the bathroom Sunset collapsed out of her chair, leaned hard on the porcelain rim, and retched into the bowl. She shook, and cold, fever-like shivers wracked her body as she stared at the swirling mess for a moment before grabbing some toilet paper to wipe off her mouth and flush the toilet.

“I… I have to do this,” Sunset muttered. “I have to… I-”

Sunset’s stomach heaved again and her whole body clenched like a fist, she stared down into the bowl waiting for the next surge, trying to keep herself steady.

“I have to do this, I have to do this,” Sunset mumbled, shaking as vertigo and nausea swirled in her head. “I h-have to-!”

Another wave of panic and anxiety slugged Sunset in the gut and she bent double over the toilet and for a second she had this absurd flash of fear that her hair was about to get into the scummy toilet water.

It didn’t.

A gentle, insistent tug held her hair back, and Sunset glanced back to see Gilda kneeling behind her, silent, holding her hair back as she shivered and leaned over the bowl.

Gilda didn’t say anything, she just met Sunset’s eyes and gave her a soft smile and a nod. Sunset let out a weak half-laugh, and tears began falling down her face. She was such a mess; ruddy-faced, teary-eyed, with sick staining her mouth and then there was Gilda, just like always, right behind her and holding her up while she tried to lift the weight of the world with legs that wouldn’t even lift her.

And she always would be.

Author's Notes:

And now we enter the endgame, as I said in my blog I will not be posting Featherfall for about a month so I can write the entirety of the finale and edit it as a cohesive whole rather than going bit by bit in an effort to ensure it is as fluid and coherent as possible.

Thanks so much for coming this far with me, let's get in.