The sensation of floating on clouds was not one that was terribly alien to Sunset. Nearly every time she woke up, it was there, teasing her subconscious awake from slumber. Things had always been that way for her; she had never in her life been ‘jolted’ awake. It was just a quirk that was nothing worth worrying about.

What was more than a little unusual to her was the feeling of a hand slapping her cheek during the floating-ness. Rousing much faster than she usually did, she looked up — and found herself staring into a pair of large, purple eyes.

“Hey, you awake? I don’t think you have a concussion or anything, but you did hit the floor pretty hard, and I’m not exactly a doctor or anything.”

“Ahhhhhh!!!!”

In an instant, she was scrambling back against the headboard of her bed — but much more important was the fact that the dark shape was now across the room and crouching atop her dresser like some kind of gargoyle, knocking her makeup and jewelry and random knick-knacks to the rug below.

Only at that point did she finally realize that she was in her bed. How did she get there? Was she dreaming? She blinked; the creature on her dresser seemed to prove that theory decidedly false.

“Dude, chill out,” the voice mumbled gravelly. “Be mellow. You called me here, so don’t get all spazzy.”

Incredibly, she felt herself getting angry. Maybe it was the disorientation of being awoken like that, but she actually snapped back, “Why can’t I be all spazzy?! There’s a fucking demon standing on my furniture, talking to me! And it’s probably gonna eat me!” Then she regretted her words and pressed her hand to her mouth. That was certainly not the way you treated something who was a clear and present danger to your life.

“Wait, wait.” The voice was softer. Confusion? “You’re new at this, aren’t you?” When Sunset didn’t react, other than to press herself further against her headboard and hold her hand out in front of her, her nails bared like claws, the dark head nodded, its wicked-looking horn bobbing with the motion. “Alright. Alright, calm down a notch. Just… give me a minute. Transformation was never my specialty, but I’m not too shabby at it either. Hang on…”

Then she was watching as the thing slowly, careful stepped down from the dresser. As it did, something unbelievable happened. Before, the creature had been nothing but darkness and shadow and purple smoke; parts of it solid and very real, like the horn and wings. But now…

The change only took a handful of seconds, and by the time the transformation was through, a girl stood in her room. Just… a girl. Or, at least, what appeared like a girl. Holding the dresser for support as she regained her balance, she stood just over five feet tall. Her skin was light purple tone, and absolutely blemish-free. Her hair — a dark shade of blue, almost indigo, though with bright pink streaks running through it — fell down in glossy waves past her shoulders to her waist, and her striking, large purple eyes glittered like polished amethyst.

The horn remained — jutting out of her forehead like some kind of hood ornament from a fancy car — as did her wings. And now that she wasn’t all smokey and dark.

And finally, perhaps the most bizarre aspect of her new form, she wore what looked to be sneakers, pink-and-purple striped knee socks, a poodle-skirt, and a crisp, white blouse. A little purple bow tie around her neck completed the… ensemble. Though that used the term loosely.

“Um…” Sunset mumbled, unsure of what she could possibly say to make sense of the situation.

“There,” the creature-turned-girl sighed, patting down the front of her puffy skirt. “Dressed for success.”

“I… you just… what’s…”

“No good?” she asked, blinking her large eyes up at Sunset. “I could go back to the other form if you--”

“No!” Clearing her throat, Sunset allowed herself to sink down onto her sheets. The demon — monster, whatever it was — had not tucked her into bed, but merely moved her atop it from the bathroom floor. That was… okay. She could deal. “I mean… no, this is fine. This it totally fine. I’m totally fine.”

Then a smile split the creature’s face — and it was like the entire room lit up. Even though Sunset had registered that her face was much more pleasant to look at after it had changed to its girl-form, she hadn’t really thought of it as 'pretty' until that moment. That was impossible to ignore now; the small button-nose, the unnaturally white teeth behind pouty lips -- even though one of the bottom incisors was a tad crooked, that only seemed to give her smile more character rather that distract from its beauty.

“Good. Great. So… are you okay now? Can I come closer?”

“Stay there!” Sunset warned with a wave of her hand. The girl did, placing both hands on her hips. “You… what are you doing in my apartment?”

“Being polite,” she answered, her eyebrows knitting together slowly. “I mean, you called me, you supplied the life force — it woulda been pretty rude of me to ignore all that, wouldn't it? So not friendly.”

Then the summoning all came back in a rush. Perhaps because the immediate through of a possible death was right in front of her, she had forgotten all about it up until now. “Yeah… I did. You mean, it—it worked? You’re really… a demon?

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a demon. My actual title is the Goddess of Friendship. I’m also the Element of Magic.” She paused thoughtfully. “And… I guess technically I’m a princess… the successor to an immortal sun-goddess… and a handful of other minor titles…” She shrugged minutely. “But that’s not really important. What is important, is that I’m a goddess — not a demon.” She frowned cutely. “Those guys are total jerks.”

“You’re a… what?!”

“Yeah,” she sighed as she leaned back against the dresser. It seemed that so long as she wasn’t allowed to come any closer, she would at least rest somehow. “I know, it’s kind of wordy and all, but hey, that’s what you get for being ‘politically correct’.”

“I… okay. Okay.” Taking a deep breath that didn’t really help any, she finally rubbed at both of her eyes furiously. She wasn’t a demon. That was good. That was very good. A goddess seemed a lot let likely to eat her and violate her corpse in horrible ways. Also good. When she lowered her hands, the strangely dressed girl was still there, holding up a bottle of nail polish curiously.

“‘Sand of a Beach.’ I don’t get it — is that supposed to be a pun?”

“You’re really here, aren’t you? I’m… I’m not dreaming, am I? Or you’d be gone by now.”

“You felt me trying to wake you up, didn’t you? You know you can’t feel physical sensations in dreams.” She paused again. “Well… not from me, anyway.”

“I… guess not.” Looking around, she sighed. “How did you get here? I mean, do you come from somewhere specific? Or did you just… appear? Did you exist before I cast the spell?”

Both of her dark eyebrows lifted. “Did I— are you being serious right now? What, you think that one little magic circle and a drop or two of menses is enough to create me from nothing? Especially when you're new at this? Wow, somebody has a serious chip on her shoulder.”

Menses? That thought distracted her pretty thoroughly. “How… how did you know what I used?”

“Oh,” she sighed with a petite shrug. “You’d be surprised how many times I get called by girls going through the cycle; source of life force readily available and all that. Mainly they found some random magic spell on the internet and are looking to vent a little. I’m usually the one who gets those summons. Well, me or Cadence, but trust me, Cadence wouldn’t answer a newbie unless I was busy.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m being insulted?” Sunset deadpanned.

“Because you are,” she laughed, sticking out her tongue. Sunset half-expected that to be purple, too. But it was a normal pinkish hue. “Well, not really. But you can’t expect to get somepony like the Goddess of Love on your first try, anyway. I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just explaining.”

Thinking that over, Sunset could feel her heart beating faster against after slowing. “Alright. I, um, I guess that’s fine. But… I don’t really want a demon — g-goddess,” she amended quickly at the girl’s sharp glare. “A goddess in my apartment. I was just—”

“You were just experimenting? Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Then her expression grew serious. “But you do really want me here.”

“What? Hey, didn’t I just say—”

“Yeah, I heard you. And you’re lying.” Standing upright, her arms folded over her chest — and just like that, the difference was like night and day. Even though she didn't actually say anything harshly, or ‘transform’ again, it was almost like an entirely different being was talking to her. Sunset felt about two inches tall standing before a giant, a being of immeasurable power. A Goddess.

“Intent is much more important than the actual steps involved in magic. Whether or not you want to admit it, you have a task for me to perform. And somewhere, deep inside yourself, you already know what you want me to do.”

“No,” Sunset breathed, her teeth chattering in fear. “No, I don't… it was j-just an experiment, l-like you said. I w-was just trying to let off some steam.”

“If that were true, then I would not be here.”

“What do you mean?” Again, the girl started to approach, but Sunset threw up her hands. “No, stay back!”

Sighing, the girl rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “Seriously? Look, have I done anything to give you so much as a rash since I got here? Let alone done anything to hurt you?”

“Well…”

“Have I?”

Squirming, Sunset lowered her eyes. Those purple eyes were too intense and vivid to continue staring at. “Okay… fine, you haven’t. I’m just… kind of freaking out a bit here!”

“Fine.” Instead of approaching, the goddess made her way to the bedroom door. “I’m going to go and sit on your couch. When you’re done laying a brick, come out and we’ll talk like a couple of civilized beings. That way, you can think a little bit in private.” And with that, she walked out, leaving the door open a crack.

After a few deep breaths, Sunset finally moved, swinging her legs to the side of the bed. Her chest was heaving and her skin was clammy — all of that in combination with her usual period symptoms, which were promptly shoved to her shit-to-worry-about-later list since there was an actually demon-goddess in her apartment.

Gods and demons. They were real. There was an actual goddess in her living room, waiting on her couch to talk to her. This wasn’t a dream, but it could be a hallucination — after all, there was so little chance it could actually be real. She’d never had a friend tell her, “Oh, yeah, the other day I summoned a god and we had a nice chat, some tea and cookies.” That kind of shit just didn’t happen in real life!

But now, it actually had. Pinching herself, she looked around the room. All of the things on her dresser had already been knocked off; the only bottle upright was the Sand of a Beach one, set down gently after her 'guest' had looked at it. She could not convince herself without great effort that it had never happened. Therefore…

Little Sunset Shimmer, a nobody from nowhere who made little to no recognizable contributions to society, had drawn some graffiti on the floor with a makeup pencil and summoned a goddess. With her tampon.

Her hand twitched toward her pocket. At first, she didn’t even know what she was going to do with her hand, but when it came back up with her phone, she wasn’t the least bit surprised. She could call someone — or text them. That had to be her next step… to get help. She had to let somebody know somehow!

No sooner had she unlocked the screen when she heard, “No point, girlfriend. I’ll just vanish until they leave.”

“Hey!” she shouted back. “No fair! You can’t read my thoughts!”

“I didn’t! But I have good hearing, and I can hear the sound of you unlocking your phone from here!”

Mouthing obscenities to herself, she shoved the phone back in her pocket and stood. She might as well get this over with.

“All done spazzing?” To her credit, the goddess had waited until Sunset was in the living room to speak. Even though her tone was still drier than a desert.

“So what’s… okay, you know what? Do I really have to call you goddess, or something, all the time?”

“Well, you could try my name, if that makes you feel better.”

“You could give it to me.”

“You could have asked.” There was a definite petulance to her tone as she lounged on the end of her couch, pouting.

“Fine, fine,” Sunset sighed, running her hand through her hair. She had heard once that giving out your name was something akin to giving someone power over you. She wasn’t sure if this was true or not, or even extended to something like a goddess, but she thought it best to keep it simple. “I’m Sunset. What’s your name?”

“I’m Twilight.” When she got a raised eyebrow in return, she shrugged lightly. “You aren’t giving me your full name, either.”

“Yeah, yeah… I guess not. Okay, Twilight. First off: why are you purple?”

Twilight snorted. “That’s the first question you ask? Why I’m purple?”

Shrugging, Sunset sat down at the other end of the couch. “Well, I could ask about the horn, or the wings, but I figure I’d prioritize.” She was trying not to be sarcastic, but it was proving to be incredibly difficult.

Rolling her eyes, Twilight leaned back, flexing her aforementioned wings so they stretched out behind the couch stretching back into the empty space of the room. “Well, they are all part of the same explanation, really. I’m purple for the same reasons I have a horn, or that I have wings. They're from my natural form.”

“And what is your natural form? Sunset asked carefully. “That… dark, smokey… um, thing from earlier?”

“Nah. That was just because it was funny to see you nearly soil yourself.”

“Thanks,” she grunted. “So what, are you some kind of… of an angel, or something? I mean, you are a goddess, right?”

Shaking her head, Twilight answered, “For one thing, forget all about your human religions and stuff. I mean, there may be something to that and all, but I’m not from this world. So, in my case, the rules are a little different.”

The phrase ‘not from this world’ stuck out to Sunset, and she gaped, “Y-you’re an… alien?!”

Laughing now, Twilight grinned, “Not exactly. I’m from another world, yes, but not actually another physical world. More like… another dimension. Does that make sense?”

“About as much as everything else. Hell, you're purple and have wings. I’m willing to go out on a limb here.”

“Good, good,” the goddess from another world nodded. “Now, to answer your question, I’m purple because my natural form has purple fur, wings and a horn.”

“Okay…” Sunset paused, her fingers working at the hem of her shirt. “What… what is your natural form? Can I… see it?”

Slowly, Twilight turned to fully face her. Her face darkened as she whispered, “I’m afraid my natural form, if you were to gaze upon it, is so unnatural and grotesque that it would cause your eyes to bleed, your blood to boil, and your mind to break, leaving you an insane, desiccated shell of your former self.”

Her blood freezing in her veins, Sunset exhaled sharply, all air in her lungs escaping without her telling it to. “R-really?”

Twilight snorted. “Heck no. I’m just messing with you. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”

“Oh, you have to tell me now.” Sunset demanded.

“Nah, you don’t want to hear it.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Tell me,” Sunset stressed, leaning forward. When Twilight didn’t answer, she growled, “Damn it, I summoned you. That means you have to do what I tell you, right? I order you to tell me what your natural form is!”

The goddess was silent for another moment, and then she mumbled something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m a pony!” she said, her cheeks a dark plum as she pursed her lips. “A pony, okay? I come from a world of talking ponies.”

Sunset blinked a few times, her mouth snapping shut. After a few seconds, “Bullshit.”

“No. Really,” Twilight insisted. “My world is populated by ponies. I’m a pony.”

“Ponies. Like… clop, cloppity clop-clop-clop?”

Snorting, she nodded. “Clop cloppity clop.”

“Ponies don’t have wings. Or horns.” Sunset pointed out helpfully.

Sighing, Twilight gestured with her hand to her solitary horn. “I’m an alicorn,” she said, as if that explained it.

“I… literally have no idea what that is.”

Blinking, Twilight looked at her. “A… unicorn and a pegasus? The wings of a pegasus and the horn of a unicorn?” At the blank stare she got in return she scoffed, her tone turning sardonic, “You do know what a unicorn is, don’t you?”

“Are we talking about the same things, here?” Sunset asked slowly.

“Sweet Celestia! I thought everypony here wanted to see a unicorn! What kind of little girl were you, Sunset? Do you even have a soul?”

“I— what...” she gaped, unsure of even how to respond. “Okay. So, an alicorn. Wings and a horn. Fine, I’ll buy that. So then, what are you doing here?”

Sighing heavily, Twilight frowned. “Whatever you wanted me here for. I mean, after we past this awkward introduction.” Under her breath, she added, “Such a newbie.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, but a more experienced magical practitioner would already be prepared to ask for their intended favor, whatever it is — more power, more money… or even revenge. Then here’s you, asking what my stupid name is and never even went looking for unicorns as a girl. Stop me if I’m being too blunt.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m supposed to know this shit beforehand? Like, what, pick some magical pony goddess’ name out of a rolodex?!” When Twilight only looked at her like she was a dunce, she burst out, “That’s insane! There wasn’t any kind of list of names in that book!”

“Yeah, I saw your book. One of Starswirl the Bearded’s... not a bad one, either. Way better than some of the others newbies get their hooves on. I’m not even sure how it got here. I was pretty sure all of his books had been accounted for. It’s really comprehensive and thorough, though; I’ve only seen one or two others like it. You did really well for your first time.”

“Thanks so much,” she growled sardonically. “Now you can go. Get out of my apartment. I… I don’t need some kind of magical horse goddess here, and I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel!” she snapped.

“Why not? Somepony has to, if you won’t. Lying to yourself isn’t going to get you anywhere, Sunset. Well, except disappointment land.”

It was true, though she hated to admit it. There was something that she’d had her mind on when she was performing the summoning. But now that it actually was happening…

‘“No… I couldn’t.”

“You'd be surprised what you could actually do. What pon—people request when they think nobody is looking.” Twilight’s voice dipped lower, becoming almost sensual in its tone — persuasive. “The depths of which humanity will sink is much, much lower than the average person would be willing to admit, even if they see it on the daily news, and in the people around them. Your species has a remarkable ability to draw the wool over their own eyes and do horrible things with with a song in their heart and a spring in their step.”

“But… but they’re not bad people,” Sunset mumbled in response, feeling as if Twilight were leaning over her even though she was on the other side of the couch. “They just—”

“They forgot to treat you like an equal. Forgot to think about anyone other than themselves when they opened their big, fat mouths.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “How did you know about that?”

“Because you were thinking about it when you called me.” Gauging Sunset’s expression, Twilight sighed and leaned back, resting one arm on the back of the couch. “Listen, it’s like when you fill in a survey, okay?”

“I—what?”

“You fill out the entire thing, and then, in the miscellaneous comments box, you put in anything on your mind. Like, how they did, or things they need to improve on. In your case, it was your emotions, and using the menses as ink. Then, you fill in the rest of the form with your specific complaints — which, for you, is all the bullshit you’ve been putting up with the entire week. And then, you speak the words, mailing off said survey.”

It was all too much; a pony goddess talking to her about filling out surveys. “I… did all that?”

“Basically. And that’s what I received: a very clear picture of a woman who had been pushed way too far, too often. One who, while she didn’t hate men on principal, she hated what they were doing to her, and wanted to get some payback.” When Sunset remained unsure, she leaned in slightly and crossed her legs in the opposite direction — her poodle skirt poofing absurdly around her knees. “Even though for me it was all packed into a single instant, instead of stretched over six days, I lived through every moment you lived through. I know who they are, what they did, and I know how they made you feel.”

“You said you couldn’t read my mind,” Sunset breathed, her mouth bone-dry.

“I can’t. Not now, anyway. And not without your permission. But you telegraphed me all the information when you cast the spell.”

Shaking her head, Sunset pulled her knees up under her chin. “No. There’s something you’re not telling me. I didn’t— that wasn’t in the book. It didn’t say you got all that when I said the words.”

“Like Starswirl would even know,” Twilight scoffed. “First of all, not even he knew everything when he wrote that book. He was a mortal pony — a clever one, but still mortal. He didn’t have nearly the amount of power or lifespan necessary to put everything to theorized into practice. Not only that, but most of the books he actually published and distributed weren’t entirely accurate.”

“Why’s that?”

Pulling a face, Twilight waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, a number of reasons. But the important ones are basically because, at the time, he was unwilling to delve too deeply into the more esoteric aspects of magic. Dark magic, blood rituals, things like that. And a good amount of the spells he came up with used the darker aspects of magic as a base. And, of course, since he was unwilling to go that far…”

“But you are?” Sunset hedged. When Twilight simply shrugged, she asked, “Does… does that mean you’re evil? Because I gotta say…”

“I don’t seem evil?” When Sunset shrugged, the goddess laughed — and it wasn’t a dark, mocking laughter, or one that spoke of eons of torture and death. It was just a laugh. And kind of a cute one, at that. “You get out of magic what you put into it. Magic isn’t inherently evil, it’s just a tool. And dark is just that: dark. Starswirl was just a touch superstitious, and refused to even try.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “So I’ve heard, anyway. I never met the pony. Dressed up like him a few times, though. Barely anypony got the reference. Anyway, the spell you used isn’t good or evil; you get what you give. And you, my little newbie, are not evil. Not one, tiny, bit.”

“Oh yeah? What if I am?” Sunset lifted her chin and cocked an eyebrow. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Twilight grinned.

“You were thinking it; thinking I’m not evil because I’m such a pushover and let those guys get to me.”

Twilight’s smile fell. “Are you kidding? You’re definitely no pushover. Far from it, from what I saw of your awful week.”

“Stop it. I let them walk all over me.”

“Not the guy in your car. You drew blood.” Her smile darkened slightly. “Luna would approve.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Sunset grunted, wondering who this ‘Luna’ was. Finally curious enough, she lowered over of her legs to the floor. “Um, what… what kind of services do you offer?”

“Well, we have a five-year plan,” Twilight responded in what Sunset recognized as a lecturer’s tone. She folded her hands neatly on top of her knees, her back straight. “You can pay in monthly installments. And if you have any overages, they are priced on a sliding scale.”

“W-what?”

Snorting, Twilight rolled her eyes and said, “Kidding! I’m kidding, Nervous Nelly! You have to tell me what you want, not the other way around! You tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”

Sunset still wasn’t sure how to take a goddess cracking wise with her, so she decided not to think about the powerful being’s odd quirks just yet. “Right. Yeah. Um… I really don’t understand this stuff. I mean, I’ve never done this before. What are the options? Do you... like, hurt people?”

“I can, but it’s not all I can do.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth -- one much less dark than before. “You’d probably think I’m lying about this, and I usually don’t disclose my other jobs, but I’ll tell you anyway. Once, I was summoned for no other reason than to help find a lost cat.”

“Shut up, you were not.”

“I totally was! It was a summoner who had called me once before -- but that time had been for something far less pleasant,” she hesitated, squirming in her seat. “Anyway, when she called me again, she was much older, and unfortunately all alone in her life. All she had left was this little birman, and her memories. So, I went out with her, and helped find her cat. I didn’t really know where it was — I’m not omniscient in the sense I can see everything everywhere or anything — but I knew what it looked like from her memories.”

“Did… did you find the cat?” Sunset asked, drawn into the story.

Twilight blinked slowly, and turned away. “I wish I could say we found it in a better condition.”

“It was dead,” she said softly.

“Yeah.” Shrugging, she shifted on the couch and cleared her throat. “So I stayed with her for a while and helped her bury it. I overstayed my time frame a bit, but it was worth it. I even helped her go to the shelter and get a new cat. Then I left, when she was ready.”

Against her own will, tears sprung to Sunset’s eyes. She fought them down, sighed, and pawed at her face. “So, what, you told me that story to get me to trust you?”

"Yes.”

“You’re not supposed to admit that. It just sort of ruins everything.”

“Does it?” When Sunset didn’t answer, Twilight sat back. “Look, I get it. You’re in a very new situation. But I haven’t once lied to you. Maybe I could have, but I don’t work that way. You know nothing about the kind of thing you just tripped into other than what I’ve told you, and what little you’ve read. So you really only have two choices.

Ignoring the bit Twilight mentioned about friendship, she retorted with, “Yeah? And just what are those choices?”

“Either trust me, or don’t.”

She was right, of course. It galled her, made her clench both hands into fists, but she had no way of refuting the things the goddess told her.

“How will it work if you kill them? Because I’m… really, really not sure it that’s what I want.”

“Tell you what, I’ll give you a little hint. Death has a very high price, Sunny.”

Sunset blinked. “What?”

Twilight blinked as well. “Did… you not want me to call you that?”

Blushing slightly, she lowered her eyes and mumbled, “S’okay. You can call me that. What kind of price do you mean?”

Nodding, Twilight’s face became impassive as she continued, “Nothing you want to be made aware of unless it’s actually going to happen.” Then she brightened and looked up, smiling. “So! That’s just put that on the backburner and get on with what you do want to do. So, what sounds good to you? Blackmail? Want me to lay down claim on anypony’s firstborn? I can do that, you know. Divine privileges, and all that.”

“What? Are you crazy? No, I don’t! Hell, I’m not even sure I want my own, let alone some random asshole’s kids!”

“Alright, alright, so you don’t want to go in for that kind of revenge. Then what is it you want?”

“It’s not that I want them to die, or lose a limb or anything,” Sunset sighed heavily. She ran a hand through her messy hair. “I just… I want them to understand. I want them to know how they made me feel.”

“Right, right,” Twilight nodded, leaning forward and propping her chin up on her knee. “You want them to suffer enough so they they’ll never do it again; to you or anypony else. So! Let’s discuss some possibilities.”

“Sure. I mean, I’m new at this, so I guess let’s do whatever.”

The smile that sliced across Twilight’s face was equal measures of beautiful and slightly unnerving; like the look of a child who’s planning to prank her parents for the first time.

“Good. Now, let’s start with the small fries,” she chuckled darkly. “Tell me what do you know about Mr. Blueblood...”