“All of this is my room?” squeaked the wide-eyed, gangly filly. Her accent, an Equestrian-Istallion hodgepodge, lent an unusual rhythm to her words. Princess Celestia had spent enough time with the filly – including an especially long carriage ride from her village – to know some of the chatter-prone teenager’s way around words.

“Of course,” Princess Celestia said, smiling pleasantly, not bothering to give the chambers much of a second glance. It was only the standard fare for the lesser towers. “You can’t mean that you never had a bedroom back in Wispgrove, hm?”

The filly’s expression told her everything. Another little pony was staunchly immune to the idea that when it was appropriate, their princess teased. There was some relief in knowing that a merry teen like this filly might grow responsive to such things, which was something so different from Sunset Shimmer’s sullen habits.

“Umm.” Mi Amore Cadenza’s starstruck gaze fell to the floor, and she traced a hoof along the magic-infused marble. “No, Princess. I had one… it just wasn’t so big.”

“If you want something smaller-”

“No, no! I don’t mean to sound ungrateful!” The little one beamed up at her, lavender-tipped wings spread wide with the barely contained excitement that had been the young one’s constant state since her departure. “I’m not! I couldn’t be, Princess! This is just all so much! I don’t know where to begin thanking you-”

“Nor do you have to, Mi Amore Cadenza.” Especially since this is close to the three-hundredth time you've thanked me… “Just be sure to bring a list of furnishings you would like to my secretary, Raven. I’ll have you two introduced at evening tea-”

“FURNISHINGS?” the filly squawked. “That’s a full canopy bed!” She pointed a forehoof, hiding another odd chirp as her new horn drizzled a few sparks of blue magic with her energetic outburst. “I spy an armoire! A vanity that nearly wraps around the corner! OHMIGODS! I EVEN HAVE A BALCONY?!”

Princess Celestia’s smile shrank, and she took two graceful steps away from the doorway. Her (slightly weary, if she must admit) confusion buried itself behind much-needed patience. “Yes, furnishings. What you see here is a very bare bedroom, and I can’t imagine that your bathroom even has a toothbrush in it-”

“MY OWN BATHROOM?!” came the eager shrieks of the volume only permitted to teenage fillies (Celestia would know, long ago she had been one). If it weren’t for the big blue bow holding back her mane, the colorful curls of the teen would have spilled over her face with each ecstatic jump.

“Goodness, if your cottage did not even allow you a bathroom to yourself, are you going to tell me that you didn’t even have your own toothbrush?” Celestia feigned a gasp.

Hiding a smile was her true test of composure when she saw the utter confusion that drove the filly to silence. Standing in Celestia’s shadow, Mi Amore Cadenza cocked her head to the side and looked up at Princess Celestia, verging on bewilderment. “No way! I totally had on my own toothbrush, Princess. I just don’t get why I should have even more stuff…”

Her last words had trailed off into near-mumbles. One pink hoof reached up to rub under her bangs, but when they bumped that new horn, the filly couldn’t hide her flinch.

“There are many things you will need in your time here, and I’ll be sending you to stores with my Faithful Student when tomorrow comes to make sure you get the right supplies for your lessons. Sunset is close in age to you, and I’m sure she’ll know all the hippest spots you fillies like to get mane supplies and essentials. Until your parents mail some of your things, I want you to feel at home. You were talking about a band you liked on the trip here. Wouldn’t you like some posters?”

“Which band?” Mi Amore Cadenza asked innocently, unaware that Celestia could only so much chatter about Death Carriages for This or the Thin White Duchess of That before her ability to indulge in polite interest waned and her ears numbed totally.

“All of them?” Celestia offered, wishing that the filly might not detect that she was, in fact, asking a question.

Aha! Celestia thought when she caught sight of the light budding deep in the purple eyes of Mi Amore Cadenza. She had far too many Faithful Students not to know the sight of teenage scheming in a pony’s eyes – even if Mi Amore Cadenza was slightly older than her personal students, nor was she one.

“Yes, my dear. You may purchase all the posters you like – oh, and an alarm clock. You’ll certainly be needing one in the future!”

“Princess, I don’t know what I’m supposed to use to buy all these things. I don’t remember if I put any of my allowance in my saddlebags before leaving.”

Princess Celestia tutted. “Don’t worry about that matter, I’ll be setting you up with one from me eventually. Until then, just pick what you like and I’ll see that it is covered.”

A high, thin creaking kind of sound emanated from Mi Amore Cadenza’s mouth as it hung agape. The longer it went on, the more Princess Celestia found it to be not unlike the sound made by a squeaky door she had to fix last week.

It was only when Celestia offered a reaction: one gold-clad foreleg raised with the same uncertainty that Mi Amore Cadenza registered moments later.

Before the kind words to excuse herself came to mind, a pink blur barrelled forwards and Celestia’s front legs were grasped in a hug.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Mi Amore Cadenza squealed, squeezing what she could hold of the towering princess as tightly as possible. “Grazie mille! Sei il migliore insegnante che ci sia!”

A cruel lump lurked in Princess Celestia’s throat, threatening her with the potential reaction that her dry eyes knew not to show. “You’re welcome, Mi Amore Cadenza.” With hesitance and nagging thoughts about boundaries, she patted the filly’s head. “I wish for you to feel at home here, never forget that. If there’s anything that can be done for you, please just let me know.”

“Cross my heart, Princess!”

“That’s nice, dear,” Celestia said softly, trying to remember the last time Sunset Shimmer offered her such adoration. “Your future is important to me, my little pony.”

‘Future’ was such a funny word, too. Perhaps even a cruel one at times.

To be entirely honest – something that often felt uneasy even within the privacy of her own thoughts – Celestia had no idea exactly what she was supposed to do with Mi Amore Cadenza in the long run. At least, not concretely. She wasn’t a Faithful Student, but she would need to learn magic. However, she wouldn’t be able to have the dual classes at Celestia’s school that every Student had. After all, Mi Amore Cadenza didn’t have unicorn magic and she was too old compared to a normal attendee. Even if she had unicorn magic teachable to the school, poor Mi Amore Cadenza would find herself left behind diving into such a strict education so suddenly.

She would be a fool to ever pass up on the chance to shelter this filly, who would be such a target for danger without her. The horn and wings combo was all the evidence needed that she would be useful, even if it was not for all that Celestia wished. Not accounting for particularly troubling domestic situations, there was no nation that would not look upon the teenager as useful in ways much less kindly. For a mortal to bear horns and wings was an unprecedented event that any leader in the world would rub their hooves greedily over. Yet, it was now Celestia who ensured Cadance would stay in Equestria, never to be taken from her against either of their wishes.

There were many things that this filly could be, and none of them matched up with Celestia’s usual gambits. Too much disqualified her from being a Faithful Student, but she had to be taught anyway. The lists in the mind of Princess Celestia went on with the possibilities she had been considering thus far. A future diplomat was a nice, promising one. A loving, exuberant nature resided in this one.

It only made it more hurt that Celestia wished Mi Amore Cadenza was any different.

Philomena clucked contentedly from within the luxurious gilded cage she had in Celestia’s office. The spacy enclosure required a single column much like a tree trunk to house Philomena’s main home. Of all the particular bird cages scattered throughout the castle, this one was by far one of the nicest. The thought of letting Philomena stay anywhere less than comfortable when her phoenix ‘daughter’ was so adamant about keeping her company during the day was horrid. So Princess Celestia made sure to keep a variety of bird toys in the custom cage and in a basket in her office. This enabled her to rotate the various pieces so her 'Mena would never get bored.

Her quill twirled in her cheery magic aura, scratching out the last few letters and loops. Upon finishing, Princess Celestia levitated it out of the way, exchanging it for the next piece she needed to prepare correspondence for. One wax seal bearing the mark of Maretonia was broken and Celestia proceeded to squint at the contents, levitating her scroll close enough to catch the scent of the ink used, as odd as it was.

“’Mena, you won’t believe it! Mama’s letter says that the Duke of Maretonia finally took a bride! And so suddenly! Can you believe it?”

Philomena, not in a particularly chatty mood, offered a loud squawk.

“Goodness me! There is no need to be so harsh, young lady. He had a previous lack of interest, not a lack of manners.” Celestia let the paper lie on the surface of her massive and overcrowded desk, the light of her sun only making her current pile of work that much more glaring. “I’ll have to plan a proper gift for their honeymoon.”

A fussier and much more opinionated series of tweets left Philomena, whose coal-like eyes glowed with sudden alertness.

Celestia gave a tiny frown, tugging at the curl along her cheek in thought. “Yes, he and I did have much to disagree on at his last visit here, but that is no excuse to forgo something so important. I’m afraid that my kindness matters more than how we really feel about something. A show of goodwill to him and his new bride should be enough to persuade him to think more favorably of Equestria.”

Philomena's flaming feathers ruffled with uncertainty in the noonday light, and their tips cast dazzling glows of their own before she folded her wings for rest again.

Princess Celestia shook her head and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The slightest twitch of agitation flowed throughout her mane once before vanishing. She returned to her work, idly selecting a modest bunch of papers secured with a ribbon. From where she held it, the princess could see rows of cramped writing out of the corner of her already-tired eyes. Thoughts of coffee, tea, and sugar wafted through the edge of her mind, where thoughts were foggiest.

Before she could properly undo the ribbon, something tucked among all those papers slipped out. The glitter leaking from somewhere within did too.

Celestia stared at the envelope blankly, and she felt how her smile had vanished, leaving an entirely lukewarm expression in its place. “Oh my.”

Mi Amore Cadenza had stuck another card in between the stack of papers at some point. For a few weeks, the little surprises found their way into Princess Celestia’s office, which was understandable, since she left the door open for everypony who might need her. Faithful Students never slipped her anything more than plain notes about homework and lessons – and not the kind Mi Amore Cadenza was receiving, a balanced blend of politics, rhetoric, spellwork, current affairs, etiquette, and similar subjects. It made up for the teenager’s failure to pass any magic academy exams to complement the education Princess Celestia so carefully customized for her, and while she found the ‘sweet spot’ where to keep her pink ward’s studies (somewhere above the Blueblood heir’s with more ruling focus but nowhere near as inflexible as the trials and academics of a Faithful Student, thus making Mi Amore an in-between).

However, it didn’t explain the constant stream of cards sandwiched between nearly everything Celestia needed in her day. Or why there was a different color of glitter poured into each envelope. On this particular one, the canary-yellow surface was the backdrop for a vast collage of smiling ladybug stickers. In the one space that hadn’t been bombarded with them was one name written in large, swirling script: Cadance.

The trace of a smile snuck across Princess Celestia’s muzzle and she worked her magic delicately under the envelope to tear it carefully. Nopony ever slipping her these kinds of notes before didn’t mean she didn’t like them. She could read them during her lunches and tea breaks in the castle gardens when she didn’t have company, and get a peek into the mind of the teenager who had been staying with her these past few months. Sometimes, they contained helpful tidbits, like the latest records the young mare wanted to add to her collection or if she was making friends.

Other times, there was no bridge-building to be made from the contents, and Celestia put down each card having nothing more than the rambling writing of a happy youth who had yet to wrangle her own horn-writing… and about whom Princess Celestia was still at a loss when it came to purpose.

Sunset Shimmer was a mare brimming with promise, and entirely unlike her latest ward. A unicorn with magehood certain in their future shortly after they got their cutie mark wasn’t normal, even among other Faithful Students, and for a time, Celestia had made sure Sunset knew this. Pure pyromancy was nothing to be trifled with and worth cultivating, lest it grow naturally - and dangerously. One had better keep a fire in their hearth than letting sparks fly outside, after all.

Sunset’s cutie mark had been a puzzle, if Celestia was to keep that path of thought short. When she had first selected Sunset Shimmer as her Faithful Student, she had thought that the filly might be the one and that her cutie mark had more than what Celestia eyes could see in its meaning. That was the puzzle she had expected, and the very one she had been wrong over. There was no doubt a filly in the castle wishing for her letter to be read.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I went out with Raven on her break instead of going for a jog. That doesn’t mean I’m neglecting my essay on the history of Qilinese philosophy, I promise! I just really wanted to see if I could draw Raven out of her shell some more. I see her around the castle so much, and she rarely talks about her life outside of secretary things. It made me wonder if she feels like nopony pays attention to her, kind of how when I was interviewed by The Canterlot Chronicle nopony was asking me about anything but what the insider's scoop on castle life was. There wasn’t even any focus on the best parts or what I enjoyed, only if I was living every filly’s dream.

I know I am living every filly’s dream, but can it be my dream too? Will ponies ever want to know about that? Should I write a book?

Sorry for rambling, Princess. I just thought that maybe Raven would like a friend to know what she really likes to do. We went to Restaurant Row for lunch and it was so big! Is there no end to all the places to eat in Canterlot? We only had a single inn in Wispgrove, and they kicked everypony underage out around dinner, when dry hours ended. I’m sure you already know that, though. Being Princess of all of Equestria means you’ve eaten everywhere, right? I bet you were there when they first built The Bleezin Breezie and had the first stew pie. I let this amazing mom pose her adorable little foals with me for a picture! I never would’ve imagined places as fancy as Restaurant Row would host foal birthday parties. The napkins were folded into amazing shapes: dragons, bugbears, and even a seapony! Could we make those in magic lessons? I don’t know if there’s certain spells for them, I just think they look like fun.

Raven wouldn’t let me pay for lunch. I would have asked her to let me more if she hadn’t gotten all adult-y and upset about proper behavior. She treats me like a princess, you know. I would have gotten something off the soup and salad menu if I knew she wouldn’t let me pay for my own food. I like Raven a lot, if the castle has ears, it’s her. I just wish she would do more than listen to other ponies. I really super-duper hope I didn’t make a scene just because we had a disagreement.

Did you know that Raven decorates her apartment like an office? Not just any office, but one of those tall Manehattan ones from the movies where all you can hear is quill scratches and typewriters clacking. Everything is a rainbow of off-white, which isn’t much of a rainbow at all. She does have a bright pink typewriter and even let me use it! Her kid sister dropped by. Do you know her? Colombe is nice too, with crazy real rainbow colors on her braces and her mane and tail are so white they look like they glow. She has the prettiest pink eyes and we wrote a dumb story on Raven’s typewriter.

I won’t bore you about it, but I wanted to know if I had your permission to go with Colombe to the movies on Friday? She invited me to go see a princess movie with her about a seapony. I know I’m probably too old for those, but I don’t care. She’s such a sweet little filly and I’ve never seen a real movie before. I didn’t know they had ones with moving drawings instead of real ponies. I promise I’ll pay for all the snacks and make sure to walk Colombe home. I don’t mind if some of the guards have to accompany me, I can buy them tickets too. I saved up a lot of bits!

Normally I wouldn’t mind if Sunset came along too. I’m just kind of peeved with her, and it’s not just because she stole my mane straightener from my room. She just isn’t very kind to me. I keep trying to invite her to things with me and talk to her, but I don’t want to be that chummy with her. Why is it so hard to just be polite with her? I wouldn’t ever be rude to your Faithful Student because I know she’s a very important pony and means a lot to you, but she’s nearly slammed a door on my wing before. I wouldn’t have minded if it was just in my face. I get that she’s all vinyl jacket and black eyeshadow now (so you’d think that she would have totally been into some cool music) but it’s almost like she wanted my wing to get caught. Isn’t that beyond bullying?

Now that I have this horn there are so many ponies paying attention to me and telling me how I’m a brave, witch-bashing, amazing filly. I don’t mind it too much, even if ponies acting like Missus Prismia was a rotten meanie (I don’t want to write anything bad!) really ruffles my feathers – she was just hurting! What I don’t like is a bully, even if they’re the kind of bully who lives in a beautiful castle. I was bullied for getting my cutie mark late, for being adopted, and trying to start a band with my friends back home. I don’t want to be bullied after all this. Princess Celestia, if Sunset Shimmer is bullying me, don’t you think she’s probably bullying somepony else too?

Maybe you know something I don’t and I’m not being singled out for anything. It just kinda feels like it. What do I have that Sunset Shimmer doesn’t? I’ve always done my best to be my best to her. Sunset is supposed to be like a cousin, isn’t she? Like Blueblood. He likes me, and so does everypony else. I think. Is it wrong for me to think that ponies don’t hate me because they treat me so well?

Do you want me to talk to Sunset Shimmer instead? I promise I will, if you want me to. We might still be able to be friends one day. Have a good lunch, Princess! Please say ‘hello’ to Philomena for me.

Yours truly,

Cadance

P.S. I would like you to please call me Cadance in the future. I don’t mean to be rude with my request, and if I have to be called Mi Amore Cadenza at formal events that is fine! Everypony calls me Mi Amore Cadenza, in that case. All my friends and family call me Cadance, and ponies that really like me, or just can’t say my full name. Raven likes to call me Princess Cadance, and I’m not sure I can handle being called this endless princess-princess-princess stuff. From her. I’ve been trying to introduce myself to Equestrian ponies as Cadance, and sometimes they listen after just one 'princess'. Cadance is my name as much as Mi Amore Cadenza is, and you haven’t called me anything except my full name since we’ve met. Everypony else in the castle isn’t on a full name basis with you. I know Raven only has one name and Blueblood hates his first name, but that’s different.

The lighter fare of Cadance’s usual letters had not made their way into this latest one. A different name would take some getting used to, but the request would not be ignored. Everything else had eased something sour into Princess Celestia’s mood. At some point, Philomena had flown from her cage and left the room. This left Celestia alone with Cadance’s words.

Letting out a weary sigh, Celestia set the letter on the desk and she let her magic aura die away. Sunset would be getting a talking-to later, that was certain. Nothing could excuse such blatant cruelty to another one of her peers.

A brief, pale stream of gold aura reached out and shut the door. Pulling open a drawer with her forehoof, Princess Celestia deposited a key onto the table, levitated it to the proper spot, and neatly locked her door. Some who wielded magic more prominently as a full extension of themselves and like another sense entirely would often master the ability to lock a door without a key. This required a finesse Celestia neither had and had long since given up any chance of trying to build. Sunset Shimmer had the infuriating habit quite similar to the impressive manipulations: often, she would seize the inner mechanics of the door to her chambers and wrench the door shut. She would then hold the lock in the oversaturated grip of her magical energy, leaving Celestia forcing down frustration at such opposition.

Without any chance of interruption, Celestia buried her face in her forehooves. Chilly gold spread its freezing sensation across her tired face. Celestia only let it sink in as she rubbed at her temples with sluggish strokes. Her whole body was a testament to the fatigue that went concealed throughout the endless hours, unseen and unsaid to everypony. Even her mane and tail rippled with limper motions, their sparkle lessening as there was a sudden sag to them.

Sunset’s many attempts at rebelliousness could be put off. The latest in a long line of Faithful Students she may be, but at the end of the day, Sunset Shimmer was a unicorn filly approaching adolescence and going through her share of harsh words and nastiness. Cadance, as the teen wished to be called, was no such thing. Goodness, the latter was in the very dusk of youth, no less! Marehood was only a blink away, and the mellowness of the much more compliant ward was a stark sign of maturity.

Prophecies were a cruel thing, and at the core of this were the tangled roots of one. Celestia did not hate destiny because she felt it was something that governed little in her life, rather the opposite. If anything, it didn’t govern enough. Too much was left to its own devices and there was a greater crushing malaise to be presented when examined as a ‘big picture’.

‘On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars shall aid in her escape…’

Even if she was initially stubborn about the matter, she never needed to ask who ‘she’ was. Some time ago, her objective presented itself dully: find an answer even when that felt more like making one. Omens were an awful science, as they were often called. However, Princess Celestia preferred to think of them as detached, alien cruelty she needn’t fear with her every breath if such an integrating truth like science or magic were not bestowed to them. There was relief in knowing that they were already a rare thing, to be given out only when Harmony had something called hope to offer her.

Only, those were the times when it couldn’t be any crueler; hope itself was a painful thing to keep (if kept) and was merely held just above her like a starved cur was taunted with meat. Celestia couldn't remember a time in her life when she had trusted it.

Everything about a prophecy could be picked down to a few points. If somepony didn’t know better and had yet to be wrapped up in the cruelty of one, they might feel relief. No sense of purpose was ever meant to be a cruel thing… and yet, Celestia was hard-pressed to recall when purpose and helplessness were identical in her life. She believed in the reality of hard destiny, and riddles were a nuisance to that.

And so it was that the moon was the lock, to which there was a key. Why, the key was even color-coded for her convenience. All that she must do was find it as if the needed Spark could be demeaned to that as a name.

One magenta spark, six-pointed, unseen and entirely unknown to any eyes but hers for nearly a thousand years.

Once, she had almost a thousand years to find her key. Now those years were running out, and it had every bit to do with how much doubt Celestia had cast upon the prophecy for much of the time she knew it. Yes, she had doubted a prophecy of all things, and in hindsight, she was painfully aware of how costly and foolish it had been of her, for prophecies were not just few and far between, but to doubt them so severely was like doubting that fish couldn't drown. Could anypony blame her for the desperation that would lurk in her at the thought of this, knowing it was her one chance?

First, she had gone with selection. Her school was a fine filter, and then her method was to select the best few as wards, making the first Faithful Students. As a teacher, that was the garden she grew, and each generation brought greater refinement and involvement. Grades alone would not make the cut, there were tests established to remedy this.

Within a few generations of Sunset Shimmer, there was more to take into account. A particular affinity for names and their sacredness had arisen in Celestia. Anything that spoke out with the energy of a pupil determined to keep their hoof raised and waving for a question that ’I am the key, please pick me!’ would soon be very high on her list.

Sunset Shimmer was too perfect of a name to find on the roster for her school. There was always something endearing about a foal with a new cutie mark to sweep under her wing and grow in her own tutelage, leaving Celestia to muse on whether her shadow simply shrank or if the Faithful just grew up somewhere in the middle of the distance between teacher and student.

Eight pointed suns were almost six-pointed sparks, that is until she tried swapping ‘almost’ with close enough in an effort of consolation. Marks weren’t all that made a pony! Sunset Shimmer was very good at showing that – and not in the ways Celestia needed so badly. Nor had Celestia ever had two very magical youths under her care; all her past Faithful Students had been talented, but Sunset was powerful and Cadance was special beyond any of her past pupils.

Celestia liked Cadance so very much. She was a sweet, loving filly who made friends with everypony so easily. She cared about ponies, but not in any kind of way that was, erm, Sparky, if such a description could be offered. Cadance hadn’t a mind for magical arts. Oh, she was rare and talented but not enough. Princess Celestia couldn’t even offer herself a total picture of what her much-needed final Faithful Student would be like in their entirety, and the more she tried to explain their nature to herself, she always ended up more lost than when she started. She only knew what their hero-errand would be and the sign to know them by.

It wasn’t enough.

Cadance’s cutie mark was a gosh-darned crystal heart that Celestia could only think to compare to the jewel off the grandest wedding ring. What else could it be? Not anything close to her needed Spark, that was certain. The filly aside, Cadance was a pained bunch of sour grapes that Celestia couldn't understand the cruelty behind. A filly with promise above promise, accomplishing a ghost of what would be needed of her, and unique magic to awe Celestia. The depth and power of it were as marvelous as the originality of the talent, and still, if it had just been…

Had Cadance’s cutie mark only been…

What would it have been? If there had been anything different about the mark or Cadance herself?

Her remarkable, self-made metamorphosis was closer than Celestia had ever gotten with any of her Faithful Students. The only account she had to offer any insight into the transformation came from the mouth of a filly permanently wonderstruck by events, providing nothing to Celestia that she could ever attempt to replicate or understand.

She was only left with the curdled hope of what might have been a miracle filly.

And Celestia did find herself growing fonder of Cadance the longer she had her, different than studenthood. Cadance was bright and full of smiles. There was something left in her that was still eager to please – and that had left Sunset Shimmer long ago. The silly shenanigans that Cadance could pull her into carried echoes of youth that Celestia knew her young ward never intended. Romantic notions, easygoing antics, and getting to dip her hooves into a shadow of what a normal teenage fillyhood would have been like (albeit from a different perspective) boosted Celestia’s spirits in ways she couldn’t say to a young heart (even if she knew how).

Every bit of it came from a filly who still could do nothing to measure up to matters of stars and omens, and who didn't know that Celestia was still at a loss for what they might be to one another.

How do you tell a child that she will never be enough?

You don't.

Especially when it's true.

If you knew you should have treated somepony differently, would you have?

Princess Celestia asked herself many of the questions she hated most. The bright side of this was that she didn’t have to answer them. When luck was kind, she even had the opportunity to be caught up in everything that would allow her to forget intrusive barbs like that.

Cruelty in her thoughts was to be combated (and that in itself could prove to be a nasty word) with kindness in deed. Chances for repetition could be dulled by working at something new, thus weakening something old. It’s what she had tried, anyway. The chance for somepony else’s happiness by doing something simple and alleviating wasn’t ever worth forgoing.

The mirror before her stood, heavy and gleaming. Within the flawless surface, her own face dared to reflect tiredly back at her. Many gems glinted proudly, boasting the mirror’s many secrets and only outshone by Celestia’s mane. The tiny image of a pony prancing in a miniature mirror crowning the grand old thing was the chief insult.

Many years ago, Celestia had re-examined the artifact and the luminous surface that held endless new ways to haunt her. Before the Everfree castle, there had been another, and she had hauled this old artifact of the gods from the ruins. It was the only thing she bothered taking. One trip to the other side had been enough for her to know the seemingly indestructible piece was worth monitoring as it went through its cycles of opening and closing.

Now, all it did was present her with a crystalline barrier that had claimed her Sunny. A whole world could be found on the other side, when the cycle was right. There was no telling where Sunny could have ventured or what could have happened to her, and certainly not after the time it took to realize that this was the artifact Sunset Shimmer had trifled with. There had been no train tickets purchased late in the night when she left or airships that held a stowaway barely trotting into her teen years. Gifted Unicorn School friends hadn’t smuggled Sunset to one of their homes on the date of what became their last quarrel because Sunset didn’t have any friends.

Over the years, the mirror never appeared to gather dust, no matter how many layers of old sheets the princess threw over the thing. Before, she locked it plainly, keeping it covered and out of sight with other magical artifacts of middling concern, where castle staff were informed make detours around. Before Sunset’s hurtful stunt, the only one Celestia really had to hide the mirror from was herself, especially because she had never thought Sunset Shimmer had really found this particular artifact the few times she had referred to a 'magic mirror'. Every filly had a very active imagination, and Princess Celestia could not see why one little filly with an attitude that burned would be any different. Especially not when she was surrounded by furnishings fancy enough to look magical, even when they were no more than elegant, well-made pieces to bring life to the castle's interior.

Now, all she could think about was the subtle malice to it. Her knowledge of its nature was useless, and despite the increasingly secure places she locked it, she was aware that it was dangerous. A greater field of protection against those who would seek to exploit the artifact’s power became an advancing priority in her thoughts.

(And who would keep what was little else than the tomb of Sunset Shimmer?)

Yet the princess hadn’t come here for mourning to snag at her mind and produce such gloom. She had come to this dusty old space because she knew Cadance needed a wedding gift. An old mirror with such a fantastic look would easily be appreciated by the mare and a welcome addition to any new home. She couldn’t help but find something brighter and kinder in the idea of giving somepony a gift which they could protect and value so highly. A treasure – if Cadance chose to think of it so – that wouldn’t break when anything else might.

Sunset Shimmer hadn’t even been the one initially in Princess Celestia’s thoughts when that question had sprung to mind.

“Why can’t I have a key?” Sunset asked, pouting. Her fiery waves fell around her face, sharply fracturing an even view of it. “It’s my bedroom, I think I deserve the key.”

“Sunny, unless Philomena creeps into your room at night and threatens to gobble you up, there’s no need for a key.”

Celestia’s attempt to tease was as lost on the filly as the foalish pet name. Eight days ago had been Sunset’s birthday, and the princess had a group of gifts she had given the filly: lip gloss, a hoof polish kit, one colorful compendium of magical sea creatures, a pre-paid year-long pass to a local arcade, a brand new calculator, and a fresh bouquet of sunflowers. The last item was a customary gift; every birthday her Faithful Student would get a bouquet of their favorite flowers freshly cut from Celestia’s gardens.

Sunset had been smiling when she had gotten her other usual gift: a scrumptious cake, just for them to share, made by the kitchen staff. It was Sunset’s favorite kind – Alicorn food cake with black cherry icing, sickly sweet and covered with sprinkles – and that hadn’t stopped Celestia from noticing the smiles Sunny had shown her didn’t feel like birthday smiles.

“That’s not fair!” the filly protested, crossing her forelegs and harrumphing.

“I think it is quite fair if you are going to be taking new things from other ponies. How else am I going to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble?”

She sulked all too obviously in her chair, with all the subtlety of her new makeup. ‘New’ because not all of it was from the small collection the princess had gifted her student. Sunset had managed to get an eyeliner pencil from somepony and apply thick rings around her eyes without poking herself. A smidgen of green apple chapstick was on her teeth.

(That, Celestia had gotten for her.)

There was no problem with makeup, but Celestia was of the opinion that fillies who wanted it should get into it gradually. Any filly under her care could paint themselves as much as they wanted and however they wanted when they were older. Sunset was an eleven-year-old filly currently putting a raccoon to shame in terms of eye-rings. It was absolutely ridiculous. At the very least, Sunset could have asked Celestia how to use the pencil properly if she felt mature enough to wear it, and Celestia would have shown her with some of her own makeup.

Sunset’s allowance could have certainly accounted for the purchase if Princess Celestia didn’t have Sunset Shimmer turn over all her receipts when she spent her bits (part of this incorporating financial responsibility into her lessons).

“Didn’t your other students have keys to their bedrooms?” Sunset asked, a whining edge in her tone. “Princess, what makes me so different?”

Celestia bit the inside of her cheek and discreetly took a deep breath with a sip of her tea. “You have been causing some trouble, and troublemakers aren’t rewarded in this castle. At least not until I start seeing some changes. And no, Sunset. None of my previous Faithful Students had a key to their rooms until they came of age and moved into the library tower for their full-time adult residence. We had a system of trust, and each of their guardians gave me their written approval for this. Sunny, your grandmother was very clear when she signed papers to transfer your guardianship to me that my rules were not going to be any trouble. Do you think your grandmother was wrong to trust me? Or that she was a foolish old gray mare by any means?”

“That’s still no fair! I shouldn’t have to wait years to get my key. Can’t I buy it? I get good grades!”

“I am not a mare who accepts bribes,” Celestia said, giving Sunset a stern look that her gentle tone lacked. “Even the bribes of fillies. Your marks are very good, Sunset. That isn’t what is going to get you more leniency around the castle.”

Sunset gave a heavy sigh too moody for her few years. When her ears swiveled, the clip-on phoenix feather earrings that she got last Hearth’s Warming jangled noisily. “Don’t I look nice?”

One of Princess Celestia’s eyebrows climbed higher. “If you feel nice, then you look nice. Though, if we work on turning some of your behavior around and getting that ambition under control, I will consider a shopping trip. Some nice, colorful new clothes could be some good motivation, don’t you think?”

Sunset looked away from her teacher’s smile. “Black is a very grown-up color. I don’t need a silly rainbow.”

What is it this filly could possibly want to make her understand what I’m trying to tell her?

“That may be, but you do need to-”

“Why are you always the one telling me what I need to do?” Sunset demanded, the hostility only found in brats sharpening her words. “I try too hard in lessons one day! The next day my clothes aren’t right for when that dumb Trottish king visits from Edinbridle. After that, I’m arrogant and con-dee-send-ing to the staff! Or, 'thrill-seeking’ and ‘disobedient’! We can't forget those!”

“Yes,” Princess Celestia said with a sharp breath. The taste of peppermint tea was still on her tongue and the paintings of her frolicking subjects were oblivious to the tension in the parlor. “I have told you some of those things, but never with the cruelty you see to throw back at me. I’ve never reprimanded you once in front of anypony else, even when you do not put your best hoof forwards, because I am not cruel. What I’ve had enough is you overstepping my boundaries and mistreating the ponies I care about by taking out your problems on others. Do you hear me, Sunset Shimmer?”

“Well.” Sunset sniffled heavily, her eyes squinted with too much petty anger to cry, “What I’ve had enough of is never being good enough for a mare farther away than the moon!”

This is currently complete, but if there are requests for an epilogue or fifth chapter I would consider it. This short story took off quite a bit, but it was still meant to be an aside from my longer upcoming and in-progress works.

I’m not sure what the specific content for another chapter would be. My other current running Sunset story and this one aren’t stories I want to retread any material with, and this has reached its end, so I’ll be back to updates on that one and it’s POV focus on Sunny.

Thank you for reading!

The harsh sobbing of Sunset Shimmer was an unfamiliar assault to Princess Celestia’s ears. But she knew it could be none other than Sunset who made the sound, even if she had never once heard Sunset cry. That was many of the peculiarities of Sunset Shimmer; she was the youngest Faithful Student that Princess Celestia had ever had, and yet she would never, ever cry.

Would she stamp her hoof? Absolutely. Whenever the filly fit so neatly in Celestia’s shadow, there was a way that she would paw at the ground and kick. It was always when her princess had a correction to Sunset’s form – or her Student’s everything – and that creativity was never to take the place of order, nor was deviance from rules a proper form of exercise in learning. Unfortunately, Sunset was always so very vocal about that.

Stamping aside, she had tantrums that Celestia could only presume were an inevitable phase for a filly her age. That was the only reason she tolerated them when they had their privacy – her Sunny was a teenager, and one that would outgrow all her harsh words and edges. Thus, Celestia let her Faithful Student have some inappropriate fire, knowing that she didn’t have to listen to the crueler nature of teenage complaints because they would all fade with time.

She approached Sunset’s door. The sounds of retching sobs only grew, disturbing her enough for her ears to slip back before Princess Celestia could control herself. Something deeply violent – and even worse, horribly passionate – was buried deep in those sounds.

How could there be all these tears? Celestia had been careful to give Sunset her space after the debacle and against her better instinct to be the hovering force that filly needed. Cadance had just needed her more.

Cadance had been the filly with reason to cry.

When the door was small before Celestia, she abandoned all pretenses of slinking about. It was a hard thing to do as a mare of her stature, and she was never one to be made small in her own home.

Her magic wrapped itself around the handle, bright and shining. Princess Celestia breathed a sigh of relief when the handle twisted easily. If there was one thing that was rooted too deeply in Sunset’s mind and words, it was the matter of her room key. She had taken to jamming her door shut with nuisance magic, even going so far as to weld previous handles and hinges to seal herself inside during previous outbursts, insisting that her music was never too loud, she hadn’t rolled her eyes, and that Celestia was smothering her – which was absolutely not true, as were the monologues about needing privacy. Young and moody fillies were not to be left alone. Heavens knew how neglected they could feel without supervision and guidance.

The tween’s pyromancy was a constant source of scolding, with Celestia ensuring that her Faithful Student wrote enough lines to fill two notebooks about not engaging in delinquency or wasting her talents – and using up the stationery meant for letters to her grandmother or mandatory apologies to the staff each time she had to be freed from her mistakes.

Sunset was well on her way to filling up her third notebook, which was stored neatly in Princess Celestia’s office with the others and copies of all of Sunset’s letters. Those were to be reviewed aloud whenever Sunset Shimmer went back on a promise to somepony, not limited to but including whenever another door had to be replaced.

“Sunset Shimmer?” Celestia called, keeping her voice between delicate and stern. That filly needed to know that she was still going to be in trouble after her tears were banished. “You’ve had a whole half-hour to yourself. I think that’s more than enough, don’t you?”

“Go away,” hissed the voice of Sunset.

Celestia didn’t need to poke her head past cheery, pale blue sheets to know that Sunset had her face pressed into her pillow. It muffled everything meant to be intimidating about her words, save for the unnerving contempt that oozed from them.

“You know that I’m not leaving until you fix what you did wrong. Cadance is still very distraught about what happened.” After ducking through the frame and pulling the rest of her mane through the comparatively narrow doorway, Princess Celestia shut the door. “That filly didn’t deserve your words.”

“I don’t c-care,” stammered Sunset from her lair.

Celestia sighed, watching the writhing of sheets out of the corner of her eye. Distasteful posters and other decals had been plastered over what part of the walls Sunset could access without help. Desecrating their soft, elegant colors were a variety of drag racing carts, ghastly metal bands, and snarling sea monsters. Bottles of black hoof polish and mangled mascara sticks were crammed across Sunset’s vanity. Many were uncapped. The sight of a dark sweatshirt hanging across Sunset’s laundry basket so carelessly made Celestia purse her lips into a strained, thin line.

“You need to care because there is a filly alone in her room crying her eyes out over some very nasty words you said, young lady. Screaming and cursing in somepony’s face is never deserved. I need you to understand that and apologize to Cadance.”

“I don’t wanna.” The sheets writhed again from the hooves kicking under them.

“This isn’t about what you want.”

“It never is!” Sunset shouted suddenly.

The patter of Celestia’s heart rose and fell with the suddenness of her Faithful Student’s aggressive words. “That is a very selfish mindset to have, and I will tolerate no such conceited behavior in my castle.”

“Then why don’t you leave, huh? Everything’s always about you and what’s perfect—”

“First of all, that is unacceptable to say about your teacher. Second, none of that is true. I am not a mare for pride or stubbornness because I have spent centuries weeding out such things and learning differently. Ponies who act otherwise would not have friends, and I certainly would not tolerate their actions as a Faithful Student. Do you mean to tell me that I, who sacrifice everything for you and welcome you into my home, have somehow placed myself above you? Above anypony?”

“Yes!” screamed Sunset, and Celestia had to dodge a pillow wrapped in her Student’s magic, as per usual. “Yes, yes, yes! You never let me—”

“I’m starting to think I let you get away with far too much,” Celestia said, clicking her tongue and stepping around another pillow’s path. She trotted coolly up to where her Faithful Student was making her display of temper and pulled back the canopy bed’s curtain.

“C-Cadance got to be a Princess...” spat Sunset, using her forehooves to rub her pillow into her hidden face. “Why h-her? You’ve never even met her!”

“And what is that accusation supposed to mean, hm?” Celestia stood with an unfazed mask of calm as she regarded the strands of firey mane angrily tangling the pastel pillowcase. She rarely showed anything less, and certainly would never face a child with anything suggesting true frustration or flaws. What young one could ever cope with knowing that they put a strain on their elders? It wasn’t right. “I put great care into introducing you two, and you scream these kinds of curses in her face. Such a display of emotion—”

“It’s more than you ever show!”

These were the remarks Celestia could never bring herself to dignify. “Cadance deserves an apology. You will give her one.”

“What?” Sunset spat gloomily into her nest of blankets. “I don’t get a choice?”

“How can you behave that way towards Cadance and think this is about you having choices? Sunset, I am here because your poor actions went against what a sweet young filly like Cadance deserves. Don’t you think she wants to be your friend? She has nothing against you, nor she has ever done anything to bring you down. Yet you have torn her down upon your first encounter. Can you not imagine the pain it brings me to see you disgrace her like that?”

“So what?” Sunset hissed, tone bordering on an unequine snarl. “You let her have everything!”

“That is where you’re simply wrong—”

“Yes!” Sunset shrieked into her pillow, wadding it up to her face and kicking her hindlegs in frustration. Their angry thumps beat into her already messy bedsheets. “Because it’s me! I’m always the wrong one! Not you! Tartarus, why can’t it ever be you?! When do you ever get to be wrong?”

Princess Celestia inhaled sharply. “What did I tell you about speaking this way?”

Sunset’s hidden-faced, angry shuddering slowed, and with it, the motion of her twisted sheets lessened. “To never talk about my elders that way.”

“And do you know why I tell you that?”

“Age begets wisdom,” Sunset puffed, pawing at her unruly locks with a defiant gesture of her forehoof, “or something like that.”

“Apathy and anger suit nopony, my Faithful Student. They are poison in all ways, and no good heart has them.”

“Is that your way of telling me I’m t-terrible, Princess?”

Though Sunset did not look at her, Celestia kept her expression smooth of emotion as she shook her head. It was not the bit of formality wrapped in misbehavior that bothered her – Sunset always addressed her with title alone or her name following it, as the filly was instructed to – the idea that her Faithful Student had such little faith in her struck a poor chord in Celestia.

“Of course not, my Faithful Student. The only thing terrible to speak of has been your behavior—”

“But—” Sunset began, with hints of upset already pouncing in her cracking voice.

“I’m speaking right now, Sunset,” Princess Celestia chastised Sunset swiftly, “and I have told you that interrupting isn’t polite, now haven’t I?”

Sunset’s only reply now was to force her muzzle deeper into her pillow, with a manner suggesting she was clenching her jaw. The filly’s whole body was quivering with upset that would need time and lectures to defuse.

“You say that young Cadance has everything, but what Cadance hasn’t told you is how alone she is.”

“Why can’t she tell me that herself?”

“Young lady,” cautioned Princess Celestia, “who is it that was speaking? You, or me?”

“Technically—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Celestia waggled a forehoof primly in her Faithful Student’s direction, an errant beam of sunlight making the gold shine much more harshly. “I don’t want to hear any more protests. When I speak, it is with the voice of those who often cannot bring themselves to illuminate that which burdens them. Are those really the words you wish to squash, my Faithful Student?”

“Mmpfh,” harrumphed Sunset through a mouthful of her pillow.

“You forget empathy, and with it, kindness. Cadance is a filly much like yourself, young and full of feelings that are going to be telling you many confusing things – the kind of things that you will be laughing at many years from now. She needs friends as much as you, for she left her family and the only home she had ever known behind. When you arrived at my school all the way from Tall Tale, you were exactly the same. Showing her anything but the utmost respect is hypocritical on your part. She is hurt, Sunset, and deserves an apology.”

“Deserves?” Sunset sniffled loudly. “Why is it that you get to say who deserves everything?”

“She who bears the crown knows these things, my Faithful Student. I have spent my life looking out for all my little ponies, and you don’t think I know who deserves what and who does not, or anything of a good greater than even I? I do not reward poor behavior, and how you have been acting is absolutely unacceptable. Cadance not only deserves her apology; she will be getting one. What in the heavens’ name could make you think she has anything you don’t?”

“She has wings,” Sunset pouted.

“That filly was born with wings.”

“Yeah,” Sunset whined, a hiccup entering her tone. “Well, I don’t have any!”

“She is a very special case,” Celestia said, her words coming out with the care of spun glass. There were things too big for this filly to understand, and Celestia was not about to admit that she was not some breezie godmother who made every little filly a princess. Heavens only knew how such an ill-chosen answer could reflect on them both. “And you neglect to see that though Cadance stays with me, I still only have one Faithful Student.”

Years ago, those kinds of words so stuffed with warmth would have drawn Sunset to her as easily as a bird looking to eat seeds from her hoof. For reasons Celestia could not begin to understand, these very words now had Sunset Shimmer sobbing into the pillow she clutched all over again. The only thing Princess Celestia could find relief in was that Sunset’s obscured face meant that the filly could not see her teacher recoil, stunned and afraid by the reaction her words had received.

With the greatest reluctance, Princess Celestia inched out a hoof as though she were about to guide a baby breezie’s first steps. She patted Sunset Shimmer upon her wither lightly, but not without familiarity, and she felt far away from the filly’s emotions. The kind of odd, fluffy itch in her chest that rose during all these moments, knowing the barrier between Sunset’s teenage tempestuous mind and her own life was merely inevitable.

She couldn’t think of anything to say – so she put her energy into simple pats and screwed-tight composure because the creeping silence she detested was pressing down on her thoughts in one fell swoop.

The nothingness squeezed at Princess Celestia as Sunset’s sobs rose with her efforts to calm the filly.

“Princess?” Sunset squeaked after some time, her voice dry and choked.

Celestia watched calmly as Sunset Shimmer lifted her head to face her teacher, her Faithful Student’s face visibly smeared with runny patches of mascara as prominent as piebald splotches. Sunset’s eyes were a watery, red, and puffy mess.

Princess Celestia knew that making any attempt to acknowledge the physical disarray so boldly presented from under bright tangles of mane would be a poor direction for her behavior.

“Yes, my Faithful Student? Do you feel any better?”

Sunset ignored the second question, only dignifying it with a raspy hum. She squeezed her teary eyes together for a few heartbeats at the sunlight brightening her room. “Could I ask you something?”

“Is it about Cadance’s horn?”

“No, I promise it isn’t.” Sunset opened her eyes again to rub at her snotty muzzle, and there were a dozen chastisements caught in Princess Celestia’s throat at the sight of snot hanging on Sunset’s coat in unsightly globs.

“If that is so, then you may ask me whatever you wish, Sunset.” Celestia tried to show the smile she thought would be soft and appropriate enough for the situation.

“Princess, do you love me?” Sunset asked, blinking her messy eyes directly up at her.

Celestia’s smile was too practiced to be caught off guard by the inquiries of the young – and really, a tween was only a taller child with moody phases and words they didn’t mean heavy upon their tongue.

“Why,” Celestia beamed gently down at Sunset, at last letting her mind ease itself into the pleasant tone Sunset was taking things, “of course I do! You are my most Faithful Student, and I have loved every little unicorn to bear that title most dearly. Whyever would you think I didn’t?”

Sunset didn’t blink, her eyes fixing Celestia with a sudden coolness beneath her face of ruined makeup. Something about the filly suddenly shrank into an owlish, unreadable state so solemn and odd.

“Because I had to ask you.”

All prodigal suns have to run away first.

Enjoy this bonus chapter.