Sunset focused with obsidian sharp intensity on the sheet of sterling silver held in her tongs, the rhythmic clang of her hammer dampened by the forge’s runes. Every minute or so, she’d bring up the sheet, looking for any imperfections or mistakes in her shaping. Then she’d extend a tendril of living flame to gently caress the metal, bringing it back up to a malleable temperature, and resume her hammering.
Forgemistress Goldfield thankfully left not long ago. The fire-caller had been practically breathing the same air as Sunset the entire time. Scrutinizing her. Unlike when Bronze watched her work, the Forgemistress had been nothing but a distraction.
The last thing Sunset needed was a distraction.
Sunset misaimed a hammer strike, slightly deforming the plate.
“Fire and light,” Sunset muttered under her breath. Turning the plate over and using a tendril to grab a ball peen hammer from the workbench, she began to correct her mistake.
Despite the time limit, she found herself smiling. This… this was what she needed. Working with her hands. Taking action. Not just drifting on the flow of the river, but cutting her own channel.
Setting the hammer down and doffing her gloves, she picked up the hot silver, along with another, nearly identical piece. Placing the welding edges against each other, she scrutinized her work.
Were they the right shape?
Were the weld lines tight enough?
Were the curves of the plates correct?
Everything looked good enough for the time being. With a satisfied nod, she set the pieces down.
Stretching her neck and arms, she looked up at the wall, and had to fight down a small spark of panic. The clock embedded above the doorway showed that it was just past noon.
And that meant she couldn’t waste any precious time.
Picking up another plate of sterling with her tongs, she formed her living flame into a single, narrow tendril. Willing the tip to become searing hot, she sliced the precious metal into shape. Then, cooling the tendril, she ran it across the surface until it was malleable, set it on the raising stake, and began to hammer away again.
She couldn’t afford to stop if her plan was going to work.
***four hours earlier, outside Roseluck’s manor***
It was just past mid morning, and Sunset was already nearing her limit. Despite that, she was resolute. She’d risen before the crack of dawn to meet Roseluck. The two ate a hasty breakfast, then headed outside to one of the grassy clearings not far from the manor. There, the Archduchess began teaching her about the process for making the formal apology to the kirintal does. Lessons interspersed with practical practice sessions.
Throughout, Sunset found herself wrapped up in a strange feeling of nostalgia. Not that long ago, she’d been in Chromos with Raven doing the same sort of thing. Though in a lot of other ways, it was much less stressful, since she didn’t have Sapphire and her friends trying to throw her outside after dark.
And in a lot of other ways, it was much, much worse. Because now it wasn’t about getting to attend the Phoenix-rite.
It was about fixing the relationship between Solaria and one of its most important allies.
A relationship that she had damaged.
At the very least, the rules of the ritual itself were relatively simple. And yet, the whole process was somehow a thousand times more terrifying for one simple reason: her success hinged on her matching wits with Magistrate Autumn Blaze. A doe that had climbed sacred Mt. Meru and occupied a spot just three ranks below that of the Arbiters.
Which meant verbally sparring with Roseluck.
Sparring that increasingly tested her ability to keep her temper in check. While simultaneously avoiding the Archduchess’s various word traps.
“Alright, I think we should take a break,” Roseluck said, standing and stretching her back.
Sunset let out a frustrated sigh, mirroring Roseluck’s action.
“Really? Do you think I’m ready?”
There was an awkward silence as Roseluck closed her eyes and shook her head.
“I’m afraid you’re going to need more practice. You’re falling into too many verbal snares.”
There was an awkward pause as Roseluck went silent. Sunset suspected the Archduchess was trying to choose her next words carefully.
“And… you’re still letting your emotions get the better of you.”
Sunset wilted like a leaf, flopping down and propping herself up with her arms.
“Fire and light,” Sunset growled.
Wishful thinking there, sun-butt. Philomena cut in playfully.
Did you suddenly become an expert on kirintal rituals, feather-butt?
Nah, just counted all the mistakes you made.
Like you’d do better.
I’m not the one who lit a forest fire.
Sunset sent a light shove towards Philomena, who responded with a feeling of smug mirth.
You’re hilarious, you know that?
“You’re getting there,” Roseluck’s voice was soft and comforting as she walked up to Sunset and, kneeling down, placed a hand on her shoulder. “But, there’s more to the apology ritual than just going through the motions. That means abiding by the rules of kirintal social decorum.”
“I know. But they can’t honestly expect me to be as emotionless and dead inside as they are after just one day!” Sunset’s snarled. Realizing what just happened, her voice and shoulders slumped. ”Dreaming darkness…”
Roseluck gave her another comforting smile.
“Language.”
“Sorry.”
“Apology accepted. And kirintal aren’t emotionless, Sunset. They’re just very good at controlling them. They have to be. Strong emotions and kirintal magic don’t mix.”
Something about Roseluck’s words brought back memories of older lessons from what felt like a lifetime ago. Of words of wisdom from Bronze on her need for control.
“Like a spell dance fueled with the wrong emotional energy.”
“In a way, yes. But very different as well.”
Sunset wanted to press Roseluck on what she meant, but knew she didn’t have the time. For now at least.
“So if I can’t keep my emotions under control, there’s no chance for this to work?”
Roseluck shook her head and closed her eyes.
“Honestly, were it anyone other than Magistrate Blaze, that would be true. But, she's been ambassador to Solaria for decades. She understands us better than most kirintal. And as the highest ranking Magistrate here, she’s the one you need to impress.”
A small spark of hope began to burn within Sunset.
“So do you think she’ll go easy on me?”
Roseluck shook her head again.
“Not quite. She may be understanding, but her duty to Himavanta comes first. You’re apologizing for losing your temper. Losing your temper again is going to undermine that. And you’re going to have to be honest with her. Magistrate Blaze may not be Raven, but she won’t fall for a perfectly executed Drakaea show. You’ll need to mean it.”
Sunset looked up at Roseluck like she’d just insulted her oath-sisters.
“But I do mean it,” Sunset protested.
“And that’s going to count for a lot. But, you’re still going to have to impress her. Your execution is the first step.” Looking over her shoulder towards her manor, Roseluck nodded to herself. “I think we both could use a break. Let’s have some tsujira, then we can get back to practice.”
The thought of the hot, spicy beverage immediately lifted Sunset’s spirits and put a smile on her face.
“I like that idea,” Sunset said with an enthusiastic nod.
Rising into the air, the two phoenix-born began to fly back towards the manor, their bondmates soon joining them. Yet, Roseluck’s words kept tumbling around in her head.
How could she improve her chances?
Keeping her emotions in check was the most obvious answer. Grimacing, she knew she hadn’t been doing that well in that regard for the last few months. She’d managed well enough during her training for the phoenix-rite. Or at least when it had counted. Mostly. But then she’d stopped caring when she started to deform under the pressure.
And now, look where it landed her.
There was the inevitable match of wits with Magistrate Blaze. Roseluck knew the Magistrate well enough. So she knew the kinds of angles of attack she’d take. At least that was the hope.
The actual motions of the ritual weren’t that hard. If anything, compared to the phoenix-rite, they were remarkably simple. There was a great deal of precision needed, but not nearly as much as during the ascension. And while it was important, she doubted she’d need to be sun-touched levels of precise.
But what else could she do?
She began to run through the ritual again, trying to find a way to improve her odds. But there was only so much she could do. As she rolled the stone in her head, something came to her. Something that she’d not considered because Roseluck hadn’t put any emphasis on it during their practice sessions.
Maybe… maybe that could be the rain to douse the wildfire.
“Roseluck?” Sunset asked. “You mentioned that we’d be giving them a peace offering at the end. What sort of peace offering?”
“That’s… complicated.” Roseluck’s tone was unusually serious, which in turn made Sunset nervous. “Since we’re apologizing on behalf of Solaria to Himavanta, the gift needs to be something emblematic of our alliance, and of significant value. I suspect the does would be willing to accept one of the rarer plants in my garden, so you don’t need to worry about it.”
Sunset considered what Roseluck said.
“But, I’m the one that set the fire. Shouldn’t I be the one to make the offering?”
“You did.” Roseluck’s tone was soft and conciliatory. “But I’m the one who rules here. In a way, I’m responsible for my guests under the code of hospitality. You may have given the insult, but I’m also culpable.”
“But you love your plants. You shouldn’t have to give them away like that.”
“I do love them. But I know Magistrate Blaze would take care of whichever I gave her. And, it’s a small price to pay to keep the peace.”
Sunset went quiet, sending That doesn’t feel right.
What doesn’t feel right, Sunset.
Roseluck having to pay for my mistake.
And what do you suggest instead?, Philomena’s sending was a mix of curiosity and incredulity.
I don’t know! Sunset shot back defensively. There has to be something I could give instead.
The only thing you've got is your Solarian Legends book. And I know you’d rather die than give that up.
Sunset felt a shadow pass over her. Philomena had a point. She didn’t really have anything to give. Except her book. She tried to imagine handing the beloved tome over to Magistrate Autumn Blaze, only to be filled with a nearly crushing wave of despair. It would be worse than cutting out her eye, because it would be a betrayal of her oath-sister’s love.
She couldn’t. She couldn't give it up.
But, Roseluck shouldn’t have to pay for her mistake. Yet, she couldn’t imagine what she could offer instead. Her mind sparked and stuttered as she tried to come up with something, anything, that wouldn’t force her to betray her oath-sisters.
Recognizing that she was starting to spiral, she began going through her meditations. As she did, she found herself reflexively clenching her hand, the phantom feeling of her hammer and tongs helping to steady her thoughts.
She missed her hammer and anvil. Missed her forge. She always thought more clearly when she was doing something.
Wait, she’d sent excitedly as she looked down at her hands, that gives me an idea.
Did it hurt?
Not half as much as your so-called humor, feather-butt, Sunset sent playfully, while saying, “Roseluck: two questions. Wouldn’t it mean more if the peace offering came from me rather than you?”
Roseluck slowed down, turning to regard Sunset.
“It depends. If you gave the gift, it wouldn’t absolve my responsibilities. Honestly, it’d be more impactful if we both presented something,” Roseluck had said, her tone curious. “Why?”
I can work with that, Sunset sent, while saying. “My second question is how do the kirintal feel about objects made of metal?”
“Again, it depends. They don’t like to use metal for tools or weapons, but they can appreciate art.” A mischievous smile graced Roseluck’s face as she examined Sunset. “What are you scheming, Sunset Shimmer?”
“It depends,” Sunset replied with a smirk. “How quickly can you get me access to a forge? And how would Magistrate Blaze react to a flowerpot shaped like a silver fue’litsi’l?”
Sunset felt her confidence growing as Roseluck’s smile became wider.
“That was more than two questions, Sunset,” Roseluck teased. “But, I think she’d probably appreciate the symbolism.”
“And the forge?”
“That can easily be arranged.”
*****
The doors to the inner ring’s ranger garrison loomed before Sunset and she and Roseluck climbed the stairs before the great building. Both Philomena and Amara were perched on their shoulders, the former sending to her bondmate to help her stay calm. All around them and in the air above the garrison were their escort of prominence-knights and a units of sun-blades.
For the first time since arriving in Rose’s Blossom, she hadn’t resented the knights’ presence. If anything, she found the stalwart guardians’ strangely comforting.
Refocusing on the matter at hand, Sunset stared up at the entrance with both nervous excitement and no small amount of dread. Despite Roseluck’s assurances, she knew this whole idea was a big risk. This wasn’t going to be like when she worked with Bronze. She was the designer this time. She might not be able to finish in time, and would have nothing to show for it. Or, taking time away from practicing the apology ritual might mean she wasn’t able to execute it as well as she needed to. She might not even be able to make what she was planning, if her skills weren’t up to it.
So many things could go wrong.
Focusing on her meditation techniques, she tamed the wildfire threatening to ignite in her mind. An effort aided by reassurance flowing into her from Philomena.
She could do this.
She was going to do this.
Following their escort inside, they found themselves in a sparsely decorated, utilitarian foyer. Like the other Eastern buildings she’d been in, it was made entirely of smooth, polished wood. Near the far wall, she saw at least twenty uniformed sun-gazers from all three tribes standing at attention. At the front of the line was a rugged and weathered sky-runner man with beige skin and feathers, rusty red hair, and piercing, dusty-tan eyes.
“Bright day, Archduchess Roseluck. Lady Shimmer,” he said, bowing deeply to the phoenix-born, an action soon followed by the others.
“Bright day, Captain Sandstorm,” Roseluck replied, giving the captain a nod. “Has everything been prepared?”
“Yes, your grace. Forgemistress Goldfield is waiting for you in the main smithy.”
“And the materials?”
“Gathered, as you requested.”
“Good. Good good,” Roseluck said warmly. “Please take us there swiftly. We do not have much in the way of time.”
Captain Sandstorm nodded curtly, indicating one of the corridors with a wave of his hand.
“Of course, your grace. This way please.”
It was another few minutes of walking before the captain brought them to their destination. Stepping aside, the captain took his leave as the phoenix-born and half their entourage entered the forge, the other half taking up watch outside the door.
A wave of nostalgic joy filled Sunset’s chest at the sight before her. Unlike the rest of the building, the room was constructed of mortared stone, much of which was engraved with familiar lines of third and fourth tier runes. She noted that the line work was slightly different from the ones in Bronze’s smithy, but they were familiar enough to identify their purpose. The floor was occupied by a dizzying number of crucibles, forges and work benches. Tools of all kinds hung from the walls, while there were shelves stacked of metal bars, rods and sheets at strategic locations. Multiple anvils were positioned at key points around the workspace. And near the back, she could see a door that almost certainly led to the spellforge.
Waiting for them was a stout, muscular, fire-caller woman with brilliant yellow skin, short, tangerine orange hair tied back in a topknot, and forest green eyes and soul gem. From the well worn smithing apron bearing hundreds of small burn marks and black smears, Sunset surmised this was the forgemistress.
“Archduchess Roseluck,” the woman said, bowing slightly without unfolding her arms. Though her tone was respectful, she did little to hide the underlying irritation, “to what do I owe this unexpected… pleasure.”
Roseluck swept forward, smiling pleasantly.
“Forgemistress Goldfield, thank you for accommodating us on such short notice. We, or rather Lady Shimmer, have need of your smithy.”
“So your message said. And that it was to be cleared of every one of my smiths before your arrival.” Goldfield’s voice strained to remain acceptably polite. “It seems an odd sort of request, considering that one can’t run a smithy without smiths. Especially considering how badly this throws off everything.”
Roseluck nodded slightly, the sun-bright smile on her face unwavering.
“I do understand, but it was necessary. After the attempt on Lady Shimmer’s life, we aren’t taking chances with her safety. And that meant keeping things vague until we arrived.”
Goldfield’s brows furrowed deeper.
“Lady Shimmer is here?”
For the first time, Forgemistress Goldfield seemed to notice Sunset and Philomena amidst the thicket of prominence-knights and sun-blades. Upon meeting Sunset’s eyes, the fire-caller’s demeanor shifted in an inexplicable way. Sunset couldn’t describe exactly what it was, but she knew that she didn’t like it.
“Why is she here? A forge is no place for a child. Especially if you’re concerned about her safety.”
Did… did she just say what I think she did? Heat rose in Sunset’s chest and her brows furrowing into a glower.
I think she did.
To Sunset’s chagrin, Roseluck’s demeanor didn’t visibly shift. Yet, when she spoke, her voice was less pleasant, and more authoritative.
“Forgemistress, mind your tone.”
At the rebuke, the forgemistress forced her face to relax and unfolded her arms, her voice also losing much of its hostility. “Of course, your grace. My apologies.”
“Better,” Roseluck said firmly. “I think I’ll let Lady Shimmer herself explain.”
Movement caught Sunset’s eye as Roseluck covertly beckoned her forward with her left hand. Focusing on her meditations, Sunset stepped forward, her guards splitting to allow her to address the forgemistress, but still remained in a position to intervene if needed.
“Bright day, Forgemistress.” Sunset kept her voice firm yet polite, offering her a curtsy.
Goldfield’s attention briefly flicked back and forth between Sunset, the knights, sun-blades, and Roseluck. Then, it settled firmly on Sunset. Though she was keeping her demeanor polite, Sunset could see that the Forgemistress was struggling.
“Bright day, Lady Shimmer. I would greatly appreciate an explanation for what you are doing here. If that’s not too much to ask, of course.”
Sunset’s temper rose again at the implication and tone of the Forgemistress’s question. No. Not a question. Her demand. Philomena bristled, her head dropping and her wings starting to spread out.
She couldn’t blame Philomena.
Before she could offer the angry retort boiling up in her throat, she forced herself to stop. She couldn’t lose her temper. Not now. Not if she wanted to get herself out of the wildfire.
Taking a deep breath, she focused on her meditations. Once her temper was under control, she opened her bond with Philomena.
Mena, it’s okay. Let me handle this, Sunset sent, pouring calm through their bond.
She felt Philomena acquiesce, yet didn’t lift her head.
“I’m here, Forgemistress, because I need to make a gift for Magistrate Autumn Blaze. To do that, I need a smithy. And since this is the most secure one available, I need to use yours.”
“You… want to use… my smithy… to make a gift… for Magistrate Autumn Blaze?” Goldfield’s tone was confused and incredulous, as though Sunset had just claimed to be the Empress herself. “All on your own?”
Does she not know you’re a blacksmith or something? Philomena sent, glaring at the forgemistress.
Probably not, Sunset replied.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The forgemistress was silent for a few moments, scrutinizing her. When she spoke again, her voice was almost mocking as she chuckled, “Do you even know how to use a forge? I don’t know what sort of crazy ideas you’ve got in your head, but a smithy isn’t a playground, Lady Shimmer. We almost lost you no less than a day ago. I’m not going to be responsible for you getting injured right after you nearly died. You do, and General Sentry would rip my head off with his bare hands.”
Despite the… rather graphic image now rattling in her head, Sunset found herself fighting back a hot remark again. There was something in Goldfield’s expression that reminded her of Bronze when she tried to take on tasks that were too advanced. She’d hated it when he’d told her she wasn’t ready. It felt like he didn’t believe in her. Didn’t trust her.
It had taken her a long time to understand that it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. It was that he was worried about her.
And more often than not, he’d been right. She hadn’t been ready.
But this time, it was different.
Once again using her meditations, she stopped herself from saying something she’d regret later.
And took the diplomatic route.
“I understand your concern, but you don’t have to worry about that. I was training to be a blacksmith before I ascended. And I’ve been learning from Queen Celestia since. I know my way around a smithy.”
The forgemistress stared down at Sunset skeptically. Sunset stood firm, meeting the older woman’s eyes without flinching. Compared to the presence of Raven or General Sentry, the forgemistress may as well have been a soft breeze trying to topple a mountain.
Walking over to a wall rack, Forgemistress Goldfield pulled off a selection of tools.
Holding one up, she tersely asked, “What kind of hammer is this and what’s it used for?”
“That’s a basic cross-peen hammer. Good for general purpose work.”
“And this?”
“Raising hammer. Used to form curved surfaces in conjunction with a raising stake.”
“What about this?”
“That’s a punch. Used to put holes in metal without using a drill.”
The Forgemistress narrowed her eyes and glared at Sunset, setting the tools back into their spots on the shelf. Walking back over, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Show me your hands,” she finally said.
“I beg your pardon?” Sunset asked.
“I want you to show me your hands,” Forgemistress Goldfield said, her frown deepening. “You know your tools. But that’s something you can just memorize. So I want to see your hands.”
Sunset, Philomena sent, sharing her eyes with her bondmate. From Philomena’s perspective, Roseluck looked like she was ready to intervene, but was holding back. Lifting her right hand slightly, Sunset signaled to Roseluck that she didn’t need the help. Yet. Amara gave them a slight nod, while Roseluck relaxed and took a step back.
“If this will finally prove to you that I know what I’m doing, forgemistress,” Sunset said as she held her hands out, palms up, her voice terse. “But the longer you delay, the harder it’s going to be for me to get what I need to do done.”
Stepping forward, Goldfield was met by warning looks from both the sun-blades and prominence-knights. Moving cautiously passed Sunset’s protectors, she knelt down and began to examine Sunset’s hands and fingers. Sunset found herself smiling triumphantly as the forgemistress scrutinized her many calluses and the roughness of her skin.
“Well, are you satisfied?” Sunset asked as Goldfield rose to her feet.
“I think you’re not a soft-handed, little girl. And that you’ve got proper calluses in the right spots.” Goldfield turned to Roseluck. “She can use the forge, but I’m watching her until I know she can be trusted without me. And I want your word that if she gets hurt, I will not be held accountable.”
Sunset couldn’t help but smirk as Roseluck dusted off her dress, and approached her, Philomena and the forgemistress.
“I find those terms acceptable. Now, let's let her get to work.”
*****
With a deep, tired breath, Sunset relaxed her living flame and set down her hammer, slumping back in her chair. Stretching her arms above her head, she let out a contented grunt and lolled her head back to look up at the ceiling. It had taken almost six hours, but it was done.
Feeling Philomena approaching and hearing the sound of her wings, she held her arm out. Once she felt the weight of Philomena landing, Sunset brought her up to her shoulder, letting her hop off and cuddle up against the side of her head.
Hi, Mena. Sunset’s sending was tired yet happy as she leaned into her bondmate’s snuggling, savoring the sensation of smooth feathers on her skin.
Hi, Sunny. I’m glad that’s over. Your arms feel like they’re about to fall off.
Sorry if I was sending that to you.
You weren’t. I opened myself to it.
Ah. You didn’t need to do that, you know.
I know. But I wanted to.
The sound of soft applause accompanied by the clack of footsteps drew Sunset and Philomena’s attention. Sitting up and twisting around, she saw Roseluck approaching, her face a warm, satisfied smile.
“Well done, Sunset. I’m impressed.” Roseluck placed a hand on Sunset’s free shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Thank you. I just hope Autumn Blaze likes it.”
Roseluck’s smile grew mischievous.
“I’m sure she will,” Roseluck tittered. “Now, why don’t you just rest for a bit while I take care of getting your gift tempered and enchanted.”
Sunset smirked up at Roseluck.
“So you know spell-forging?”
“You’d probably be surprised at how much I know. I am over six hundred, after all.”
A mischievous feeling passed between Sunset and Philomena, the former smirking mischieviously.
“You don’t look a day over six-thousand,” Sunset quipped playfully.
“Watch it, Sunset,” Roseluck replied in a similar tone, “another comment like that and I’ll ask Spitfire to help with the apology ritual.”
Sunset barked out a single, shocked laugh.
“Great idea. Let's start a war with the kirintal. I’m sure Queen Celestia would love that.”
“Keep the comments about my age to yourself, and I’ll consider it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sunset said with a grin, watching Roseluck walk towards the bench to collect her sculpture.
“And, Sunset? I suggest you let Nitor help you a bit. You don’t want to be tired and sore before the ritual, right?”
A jolt of annoyance ran up Sunset’s back at the thought of trying to call on Nitor again. She’d done it when she was about to succumb to the purification ritual, but that was life or death. She hadn’t tried to call on the heart since.
She hadn’t needed to.
But now, thinking about calling on the heart brought memories of the pain flooding back. Desperately, she tried to bury them under a flood of lava. Philomena did her best to calm her by sending feelings of peace and hope, but it was a losing battle.
“You could always heal me,” Sunset said hopefully, giving Roseluck her best pleading smile.
Roseluck smiled back and shook her head.
“Good try, but no.” Roseluck’s voice was gentle and placating. “After all, what better way to master the skill than using it?”
“Right… and here I was thinking you loved me or something.” Sunset groaned, slumping back down and scratching Philomena’s chin.
“I love you enough to help you help yourself. The sooner you master your geomancy, the sooner you can start spell-dancing again. Don’t you want that?”
A humorless laugh came from Sunset’s throat.
“I do. And I hate that you’re right.”
“Then why don’t you, Philomena and Nitor take some quality time while I deal with this. I’ll be back soon.” And with that, Roseluck swept out of the smithy and into the spell forge, leaving Sunset and Philomena alone with her bodyguards.
Well, sun-butt, are you just going to sit there? Philomena sent.
Looking down at Philomena, Sunset quirked a slight, half-smile, I’m getting to it.
Philomena looked unconvinced. Yet, a wave of sympathy came through their bond as she met Sunset’s eyes.
You did it before. You can do it again.
Sunset sighed and began to pet Philomena’s head.
I know I did. But, I was desperate. I thought… no, I knew we were going to die. It just… happened
Maybe that’s the answer? Just letting it happen?
I don’t know, Mena.
Could it hurt to try?
A genuine smile began to work its way onto Sunset’s face.
Probably not.
Giving Philomena one last head pet, Sunset closed her eyes, allowing her mind to float on the warm, comforting sea of Nitor’s heart. For a few moments, she simply allowed herself to exist on the currents.
Then, she sent out a call, wordlessly asking Nitor to help her. As she did, she began to feel the Heart’s energy drawing closer, gently caressing her as if it were feeling for where it was needed. Then, it slowly began to flow into body, trickling into her flesh and bones.
Her instincts demanded that she grab onto the energy. Control it. Direct it to relieve the aches in her arms and her fatigue. She fought those instincts down. Instead, she allowed the Heart’s energy to flow where it would.
Let go.
Trust.
Sunset let out a soft sigh as the Heart’s energy suffused her arms and chest. She couldn’t quite describe the feeling. In a way, it reminded her of Tender Heart’s renewal spell-dances. But at the same time, it was as different as fire and water. The sensation wasn’t pleasant. It wasn’t unpleasant. It just… was.
Even as the pain in her muscles began to abate, she felt the Heart slowly begin to withdraw. Once again, her instincts told her to reach out and claim. Control.
She forced them down, allowing the Heart to leave.
Opening her eyes, she flexed her arms. She was still sore, but it was a dramatic improvement over where she was when she began.
See! You did it! Philomena cheered, rubbing her head against Sunset’s hand and trilling happily.
I did, didn’t I? I don’t know why it didn’t completely fix me though.
Probably because your earth-weaver magic is still too weak, Philomena sent smugly.
Sunset glared at Philomena and gave her a shove through their bond.
At least I got it to work.
You did, sun-butt. Now you’ve just got to keep practicing.
Sunset flopped back in her chair with a groan.
Story of my life.
*****
Sunset looked up to the sky apprehensively. The Queen’s sun was nearing the horizon, which meant that the dark of night was coming in only a few hours. Much of her unease was knowing what she knew now about the undead and the Cult, and what the loss of the sun’s light meant. Even if she was safely on Roseluck’s mesa.
She’d been sure that she was safe before, and they still reached her.
However, the main source of her worry would be arriving long before the Queen’s sun sank out of sight and Traitor’s moon took its place.
Sunset did her best to distract herself by looking around the grove where she, Philomena, Roseluck and Amara were waiting. The grove was on the north-east side of the mesa, and very close to the edge of the barrier forest on its rim. If what Sunset learned of geography was correct, it would mean this spot was the closest to Himavanta.
The grove was strange. Unlike the Western Territory and its oaks, cottonwoods, and junipers, the grove was surrounded by odd looking plants Roseluck had called camphors and magnolias, along with a few somewhat familiar trees in the form of pines. The bushes were also odd looking, many of which reminded her in a way of the silver fue’litsi’l in ways she couldn’t quite describe.
Within the grove, there was an open glen carpeted in wildflowers and short grasses, as well as at least twenty small hummocks in a circle around a central pond filled with clear, spring water. By each hummock was a drinking vessel made from a small, ornately carved gourd, with a larger gourd vessel resting on a rock by the spring. Floating in the air above were hundreds of small, will-o-wisp like motes of colored light that danced and cavorted about like living things.
Were it not for the current circumstances, Sunset might have found the sight entrancing.
But as it stood, she had a job to take care of. So she couldn’t let herself be distracted.
Looking down at herself, she found herself frowning. Despite disliking the dresses and formal clothes she’d been forced to wear, they at least gave her proper modesty. Such wasn’t the case with her current “clothes.” The kirintal style chest wrap and loincloth covered her, but just barely, leaving her feeling almost naked. It also meant that Philomena couldn’t sit on her shoulder, as her leather pauldron had to be left behind. Instead, her bondmate was sitting in a nearby tree with Amara.
Glancing over at Roseluck, Sunset found a strange jealousy rising in her chest. Like Sunset, Roseluck was “dressed” in traditional kirintal attire. Which meant that she could really see what Roseluck looked like. Sunset knew Roseluck was gorgeous. Far more so than anyone aside from the Queen. And she had seen Roseluck without her dresses before back on Mt. Liakeed. But at the time, she’d still been adjusting to her new situation as a phoenix born.
She hadn’t really looked at her.
Seen her.
But now, with her newly developed sense of artistic beauty, it solidified to Sunset of just how vast the difference between the two of them was. Compared to herself, Roseluck looked as though a master sculptor had spent decades carving her form from light, golden marble, her original earth-weaver physique only enhancing her beauty, the subtle definition of toned muscles emphasizing her figure.
Roseluck wasn’t a little girl like she was. She was a fully fledged woman. One who’s feminine perfection eclipsed anything Sunset felt she could ever achieve in her life.
You alright? Came a concerned sending.
Tearing her eyes off Roseluck, Sunset ran through another of her meditation techniques.
Just… trying to remind myself that I’m going to be almost as pretty as her… someday.
The sensation of sympathy touched her mind.
If what the Queen showed us comes true, you’ll be prettier.
Sunset found her mood lifting a little as she recalled the vision of herself the Queen had shown her. One of herself as a fully grown woman.
I don’t think I’ll ever be prettier than Roseluck, Mena. But thank you for saying that. I guess we’ve just got some growing up to do, right.
Smugness came flowing through their bond.
Well, you do. I’m already there.
Sunset smirked to herself, refusing to take Philomena’s bait.
Physically at least. But you’re still getting there in your underdeveloped bird-brain.
That earned her a wave of offense.
Oh, like you’re any better.
Never said I was. Just pointing out that you’ve still got some growing up to do too.
Sunset laughed as Philomena huffed and mostly closed their bond.
“I trust you and Philomena are having fun?” Roseluck said.
Sunset found herself flushing, unable to look at the Archduchess.
“We were, yes.”
Picking up a heavy wooden box that was at her side, Roseluck gestured with her head towards the south-west side of the grove.
“Then I hate to interrupt, but the does should be here soon, so we should get into place.”
“Okay.”
The walk to the hummocks was only a short distance, yet to Sunset it felt like it took forever. Her stomach was roiling with anticipation and dread as both of them took a seat on one of the hummocks, Roseluck setting the box between them.
Panic began to bubble up in her chest as she started to imagine all the ways it could go wrong. Closing her eyes, Sunset focused on stilling her mind. She reminded herself that her emotions got her into this situation. Or at least long enough to get out of it.
Sunset wasn’t prepared when the does, led by Magistrate Autumn Blaze, silently materialized on the other side of the grove, stepping out of the brush like it were made of nothing but air. It was more than a little eerie, if she was honest with herself.
Without acknowledging Roseluck or Sunset, the does took their seats on the hummocks, Magistrate Blaze sitting in the central spot.
‘Okay, they’re here,’ Sunset thought, waiting for them to finish settling in. ‘This is it. Nothing to do now but go forward.’
Once the does had all taken their seats, Sunset rose to her feet and walked to the spring. Retrieving the gourd, she dropped to a knee and dipped it into the water, filling it up to just inside the base of the neck.
Once filled, she stood and bowed.
“Altaena lan’taalca, Magistrates,” Sunset said.
“Altaene lis’tillesa, Sunset Shimmer” Magistrate Blaze replied without returning the bow.
‘First step done. Next step.’
Sunset held the jug in both hands, her right on the bottom and left holding the gourd’s neck. Walking around the spring, she approached Magistrate Blaze first, who held out her drinking gourd to her side. Carefully, Sunset poured enough spring water into the vessel, filling it half-way up. The Magistrate didn’t look at her as she performed her task, instead staring ahead as though she weren’t even there.
Sunset reminded herself that this was part of the ritual. Until all of the water had been served, she was invisible.
Unless she made a mistake.
Then the does would simply stand and walk away.
And she would be left with both her failure, and a potentially disastrous political situation on her back.
Stepping away, she bowed to Magistrate Blaze. Then, worked her way down the line, alternating from the magistrate’s left, then right, until she had dispensed water to all of the kirintal present.
Returning to her side of the grove, Sunset approached Roseluck, dispensing her share of the water. Like the does, Roseluck didn’t acknowledge her. Despite the pang in her chest at Roseluck’s coldness, Sunset knew it wasn’t personal. Roseluck was just playing her part.
Finally, she took her own seat, and poured out the remainder of the water into her own drinking gourd, only filling it about a third of the way.
‘Close enough,’ she thought as she took her seat.
“Umilitan yan’temat che’mathela,” Magistrate Blaze said.
“Umilitan yan’temat che’mathela,” the rest of the does, Roseluck and Sunset repeated simoltaniously. Then, lifting the gourds to their lips, they began to drink. Despite how refreshing the water was, and how much she wanted to gulp the cool liquid down, Sunset drank slowly. This was the first act in the ritual. A show of restraint and control.
And unity.
Magistrate Blaze lowered her gourd from her lips, signaling to the rest that they were to do the same. In unison, Roseluck, along with every doe other than Magistrate Blaze, set their drinking vessels down.
Then, Magistrate Blaze and Sunset rose to their feet, and walked to the center of the grove. Reaching the spring, the two stood on opposite sides of the water, staring the other directly in the eyes.
‘Now comes the hard part,’ Sunset thought as she met the Magistrate’s unyielding eyes.
“Why do you stand before me, Sunset Shimmer of Solaria?”
“I stand before you as a representative of Solaria and as a sun-gazer, to offer amends for my transgressions against you and you fellow kirintal, Magistrate Autumn Blaze of Himavanata.”
“I acknowledge your desire, and will hear you.” The Magistrate slowly lowered herself to the ground, kneeling at the edge of the spring. “I do not offer my acceptance, only a willingness to listen to your words and judge if I find them and your intent true. In what way have you transgressed?”
Sunset knelt down as well, the roiling in her stomach erupting into a full blown storm. One that threatened to overcome her.
Taking a slow breath, she ran through her meditations again, and slowly breath out, blowing the tension with it.
She was in control. Not her emotions.
She was in control.
“My transgressions were threefold. By my actions, I have disgraced our host, Archduchess Roseluck under the rules of hospitality. As a member of the Phoenix-born, my behavior reflects poorly on her, and on myself for not respecting the reputation she has cultivated within Himavanta.”
The Magistrate said nothing. In fact, she didn’t move at all other than the occasional blink. Sunset imagined that most sun-gazers would find her deadpan stare unsettling. Thankfully, she had spent enough time around Pinkie’s sister Maud that she was used to it.
And, Sunset knew this was a good sign. According to Roseluck, the Magistrate’s silence meant she did not find fault in what Sunset had said.
Encouraged, Sunset continued.
“I also improperly accused Lady Raven Inkwell of deceit and manipulation. Such accusations should have been made at the appropriate time and place. Not at a diplomatic event. By making them in the inappropriate venue, I have shown my lack of control and blatant disregard for my obligation to properly represent Solaria as a Phoenix-born.”
Once again, the Magistrate remained silent.
“Finally, by acting in such an openly emotional fashion, I have offered great offense to you and your fellow Magistrates. As a representative of Solaria, it is my duty under hospitality to respect our guests, act in a way that does not reflect poorly on my nation and its rulers, including Queen Celestia herself.”
When she had finished speaking, Sunset folded her hands on her lap, waiting for the Magistrate to respond.
“You have identified your transgressions, Sunset Shimmer of Solaria. In which way do you seek to make amends for your misdeeds?”
Sunset closed her eyes. She didn’t need to respond right away. If anything, it was better that she didn’t. A rash response would only throw more fuel on the fire. She needed to show that she had considered her position.
After a minute or so of collecting herself, Sunset opened her eyes.
“I begin by offering my sincere and humble apology for the offense I have forced upon you and your fellow Magistrates with overt emotional display,” Sunset said as she bowed down at the waist, touching her forehead to the ground.
Magistrate Blaze didn’t respond immediately.
“If you are sincere in your apology, will you promise that you will not have an emotional outburst again?” Magistrate Blaze finally asked.
Sunset’s heart began to race. This was it. This was what Roseluck had warned her about. The Magistrate was asking her to make a promise. A promise as a representative of Solaria. This was the test.
‘Don’t react. She wants to see if I will agree blindly without consideration,’ Sunset thought to herself, holding her bow. ‘Think. Cut apart her words. Consider the angles. What is she asking for?’
You want some help, Sunset? The sending came with a touch of concern.
No. Her return sending was filled with gratitude. I have to work this out on my own.
Are you sure?
I am.
But we’re a team.
We are. But… I need to figure this out myself.
But I want to help. Philomena sending was hurt and sad.
You are helping, Sunset reassured. But… this is a test for me. Not us. It goes against the spirit of the rite if we work together. The mistakes were mine, so I need to make them right.
She could feel Philomena’s uncertainty.
I’ll be fine, Mena. Please, trust me.
Okay. But if you want me, I’m here.
I know. Sunset’s sending was filled with more gratitude and love as she felt Philomena’s mind withdraw.
Refocusing on the task at hand, Sunset began to run through the Magistrate’s request. Examine the words she used, and the implications. Look for the traps.
After a minute of silent contemplation, she rose from her bow and met the Magistrate’s eyes.
“No, I will not make such a promise, for such a promise is impossible for me to make. By the words chosen, I would be binding myself to something that I can never guarantee, and would be supplicating myself to the rule of Himavanta over my own nation.”
“Why will you not make such a promise if you are sincere? Your refusal reflects poorly on you, Solaria, your teachers and your Queen.”
A spark of anger began to burn in Sunset’s chest. It was one thing to accuse her. It was another to accuse Raven and the Queen of incompetence. Before she could retort, she stopped herself. This was another trap.
Sunset focused on her meditation techniques to calm herself before responding.
“Because it would be holding me to something impossible. We, as sun-gazers, are not kirintal. Our passion and emotions are our strength. To deny that is to deny a fundamental aspect of ourselves. And by the words chosen, I would be denied any emotional outburst, not simply one of anger or passion. But of joy, sorrow… love. Such a promise would deny who I am, both as myself, and as a sun-gazer. Thus, making such a promise would require me to give up something essential, or to lie to make false amends. And if I make the promise, and lie, I would offer even greater offense to Himavanta, as I would be an oath-breaker in my role as a representative of Solaria. Neither of which is acceptable.”
Magistrate Blaze blinked.
“So you do not offer any more than empty words of contrition?”
Yet another trap.
“I have not said that. Only that I will not promise that an emotional outburst will never happen again. I will, however, offer to make an effort to learn from my mistakes and improve myself so that the chances of having an inappropriate outburst, such as the one that I had, is unlikely to happen again in the future. I am still learning, Magistrate Blaze, and adjusting to a life that I have resisted embracing. I will continue to make mistakes, as any child and student will. But I will learn from them, and use those lessons to improve myself in the future, both for my sake, and for the sake of Solaria.”
“And how can I be certain of your sincerity by your words alone?”
“You cannot. At least not in the immediate. You will have to be patient, and judge my sincerity by my actions in the future. However, I do not only offer words as a gesture of goodwill and peace.”
“And what else do you have to offer?”
“A peace offering. One made by myself and Archduchess Roseluck as a symbol of solidarity between our peoples.”
Sunset heard Roseluck approaching sedately. Despite the temptation to look back at her, Sunset kept her eyes firmly on Magistrate Blaze. To do otherwise would be seen as disrespectful.
In Sunset’s peripheral vision, Roseluck sat next to her, and held the wooden box out to Magistrate Blaze.
“Does she speak the truth?”
“She does, Magistrate Blaze,” Roseluck said. “Though she has shown undue modesty by implying that she was not its primary architect. This peace offering was conceived of and designed by Sunset herself, and made by her own hands between the dawn and dusk of this day. My contribution was advising her on the designs, performing the necessary tempering enchantments, and providing the living component.”
“We hope that you find the gift acceptable,” Sunset added, both she and Roseluck bowing at the waist slightly towards the magistrate.
For the first time since taking their seats, Magistrate Blaze moved, taking the box from Roseluck. Setting it on the ground before her, she untied the cords holding it shut, unfolding it to reveal the results of Sunset and Roseluck’s labors.
The sculpture was about the size of Sunset’s head, and resembled a silver fue’litsi’l blossom. The inverted teardrop-shaped blossom was made of five petals of sterling silver that had been welded together, their tips reflexed upward at the very bottom tip of the bell acting as a stand. Along the widest part of the bell, a line of elegant tier four and five runes had been carefully inscribed into the metal. The cap consisted of a five point star made of greened bronze half the diameter of the bell, which had a single, large opening in the center. An opening that was filled with a beautiful bunch-grass, its many stems bearing broad, fuzzy leaves. Many of the branches were tipped with panicles of clusters of small, red and gold, bead-like flowers.
The magistrate tilted her head slightly, examining the peace offering.
“If I am to understand correctly, you made this, Sunset Shimmer?” Magistrate Blaze finally said.
“I did,” Sunset affirmed, rising from her bow.
“It would please me to understand why you felt that this was a suitable peace offering,” Magistrate Blaze said, gesturing to the silver pot and plant before her.
Taking a slow, deep breath through her nose, Sunset forced down the angry retort that was boiling in her throat. Knowing what the Magistrate was doing made it easier. Not by much. But it did.
A feeling of encouragement and faith flowed into her from Philomena. Sending gratitude in return, Sunset hardened herself, looking the Magistrate Squarely in the eyes.
“When I first ascended, Archduchess Roseluck showed me the silver fue’litsi’l bushes gifted to Solaria as a sign of our alliance with Himavanta, as well as the special care she needed to provide them in order for them to grow so far from their home on sacred Mt. Meru. Thus, the blossoms of the fue’litsi’l represent the alliance between our people, and the effort we must make to ensure it stays healthy and strong.”
The magistrate blinked, but otherwise appeared unmoved.
Sunset pressed on.
“While the fue’litsi’l represents the original alliance, the sculpture itself and the grass within are meant to symbolize my home in the Western Territory, and therefore share a piece of my home and my people with Himavanta. The Western Territory is a harsh place. We have little, so we consider pragmatic gifts made by the gift giver to be the most valuable. As is hard work done by one’s own hand and ingenuity. Thus, I chose to use the skills I possess to make the sculpture before you, both through my own work and sweat, and using an emblem of our people’s friendship.”
Taking a moment to compose her thoughts and letting Philomena’s presence still her mind, she continued.
“Finally, the grass itself is known as jacinth magus-grass, and represents Archduchess Roseluck’s contribution to our peace offering. The grass itself is very rare, and can only be found in the Ghastly Gorge on the border of the Western Territory and the Bright Desert. This specific plant is one of only five that Roseluck managed to cultivate, and took well over twenty years to grow. Roseluck has also engraved and permanently enchanted the runes on the pot to ensure that the soil moisture and temperature are exactly what the plant needs to live. All you will need to do is give it light and water, and it should thrive for decades to come.
“It is for the above that I believe this gift makes a suitable peace offering. It represents the original gift between our people, symbolizing my respect for that alliance. It was made by my own hand, which is the greatest sign of generosity and comradery from my people. It was designed and built in cooperation with Archduchess Roseluck, showing the unity of Solaria with Himavanta. And contains something of great value that is given willingly and freely by both Roseluck and myself.”
Taking a deep breath, Sunset closed her eyes, holding them shut for a few moments to let the magistrate know that she was done.
When she opened her eyes once again, Magistrate Blaze had taken up her drinking gourd. An action Sunset mirrored. Leaning forward, both of them dipped the vessels into the spring, filling them half-way.
Sunset waited in tense anticipation for the magistrate’s next act, as it would determine if she accepted or rejected her offering.
Bringing the gourd up to her lips, the magistrate drank half the water in a single, slow draw. Once again, Sunset mimicked her, drinking half the water in her own vessel.
This was it.
This was the moment where her apology and offering would be accepted or rejected.
Sunset tried not to fidget as Magistrate Blaze held her gourd out over the pond. Her heart began to race as the doe began to tip the vessel, until a small stream of water began to trickle over the edge. After emptying an eighth of the water, she righted the vessel, keeping the rest of the water within.
Sunset wanted to cry in relief and joy.
Had she poured out the water entirely, it would have meant a rejection of Sunset’s apology. But such a small amount? That was the best she could hope for aside from nothing being spilled.
But, she held her emotions in check as she extended her own gourd out to Magistrate Blaze. Once both gourds were side by side, they reached out with their free hands and took the other’s. They then brought them to their lips, and drank down the rest of the water.
“Almethia trit’talechae,” Magistrate Blaze said.
“Almethia trit’talechae,” Sunset repeated, the smallest hints of relief seeping into her voice.
“I accept the sincerity of your apology, Sunset Shimmer of Solaria, and the honesty of your gift. With this sharing of water, I forgive you for your impropriety and the insult you offered me and my fellow does. I hope when next we meet, we will not need to repeat what we have just done.”
“I hope for the same, Magistrate Autumn Blaze of Himavanta.”
*****
Sunset and Philomena stood before a closed door. A closed door that led to one of the personal quarters in Roseluck’s manor. It wasn’t visually different from any of the other doors. Yet to Sunset, she felt almost as small as she did when she first stood at the entrance to the Cathedral of the Sun.
She lifted her hand and went to knock on the door, only to hesitate and drop it back to her side.
Just like she had at least three times already.
Why? Why is this so difficult? She sent as she continued to stare at the door. Apologizing to the deer wasn’t this hard.
Probably because you don’t have a script? Or maybe it's personal? Pick the side of the coin you want, sun-butt.
I’m going to go with both, feather-butt. Sunset sighed and stared up at the ceiling.
I still say you’re worried about nothing. Even if they’re mad, why wouldn’t they accept your apology?
Because… I don’t know. Some sort of Easterner social convention that I’m blatantly unaware of… again. After everything that’s happened…
Sunset, they’re your friends.
You can say that, but it doesn’t change that I’m scared of them telling me to go away and have dreams.
If they do, then they weren’t really your friends. And if thats the case, then they can have dreams.
Right. Taking another deep breath, Sunset squared her shoulders. Right. Okay. I’m not letting this smolder any longer.
You’ve been saying that for the last few minutes, Philomena sent as once again Sunset lifted her hand and finally knocked on the door.
You’re truly inciteful, Mena, Sunset sent as she heard the sound of footsteps slowly approaching the door.
You mean insightful, don’t you?
Sunset found herself smirking as she glanced over at Philomena. I know what I meant.
The sound of the door opening got Sunset’s pulse racing. Snapping her eyes forward, she braced herself for what was going to come next. Because standing in the doorway was Lily Valley, dressed in her evening sleepwear. She had an uncertain look on her face as she stared at them, as if unsure what was going on.
“Sunset?”
“Bright day, Lily,” Sunset said, trying to keep her voice as even as possible in spite of her heart drumming in her chest. “Can I come in?”
Sunset fought down the urge to shuffle in place as Lily considered her request. Or at least, she hoped her friend was considering her request.
“Um… sure?” Lily stepped aside and allowed Sunset to enter.
She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
“Thank you.”
So far, so good, Sunset sent.
I told you so.
Sending a playful shove through their link, Sunset entered Lily and Daisy’s shared room. The first thing that struck her was how different it was from her own suite. Unlike her’s, there was no bed in the main room. Instead, she saw a moderately sized, furnished common space. To her left, the wall had a pair of doors that Sunset suspected led to their individual bedrooms, while on the right was one that presumably led to their washroom.
But the thing that really drew her attention was the sheer quantity of cut flower arrangements around the room. Doing a quick count, there were fifteen or sixteen of them. Even if she wasn’t an aficionado of flower arrangements, Sunset could appreciate the artistry on display. Each one was distinct, and included blooms, leaves and branches from plants both familiar and strange.
Sitting at the table in the corner of the room was Daisy, working on another incomplete arrangement. Sunset’s nerves began to spark as Daisy gave her the same confused look as Lily had.
“Bright day, Daisy,” Sunset said with a nervous smile. “Can we talk?”
To Sunset’s surprise, Daisy began to look concerned as she set down the blossoms she was holding and got to her feet. Stepping out of the seating pit, she brushed her hands against her nightgown. “Okay. Is this about what happened yesterday?”
“Yes, I just-” Sunset began to say as Daisy walked up to her.
“Sunset,” Daisy interrupted, pulling her into a gentle hug, “it’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”
Of all the reactions she could have expected from Daisy, she hadn’t expected to be hugged. Yelled at? Told to leave? All things that crossed her mind.
“You’re not?” Sunset stammered, trying to wrap her head around what Daisy was doing.
“We aren’t,” Lily said as she joined in, careful to avoid Philomena, who shifted around to avoid getting pinned. “We were at first. But then Roseluck talked to us. Helped us understand why you were acting like that.”
She could barely believe what she was hearing.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Daisy said, both her and Lily letting go of Sunset and taking a step back. “We can’t imagine what you went through. But, Roseluck tried to explain it. So, it hurt when you yelled at us, but we get it. And we already forgive you.”
Sunset didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry with relief. She’d expected to have to explain herself. Try to convince them of what had happened to her. Apologize profusely to get them to give her a second chance. But if Roseluck had explained it… then…
A horrid thought came to her.
“Wait, Roseluck told you what happened? What did she tell you?”
Both Lily and Daisy shared a nervous look. Sunset couldn’t tell if it was from her sudden change in tone, or because they knew what she had seen when she was under the effects of the ulmuri.
“That the poison tried to kill you with your worst fears. And that you were hurting because of what you saw,” Lily said.
“She didn’t tell you what I saw, did she?”
“No, she didn’t,” Daisy added. “She said it wasn’t her place. Only that it would have killed you.”
“And that you were still hurting. Badly,” Lily chimed in. “I know how grumpy I get when I stub my toe or something little like that, so after what you went through… well…”
“We couldn’t exactly stay mad, especially when you need us. So, we’re not mad.”
In a moment, all of the fear, anxiety and doubt began to drain out of Sunset like water through sand. All of the thousands of disastrous scenarios she’d imagined of her friends turning their backs on her? They weren’t true. A soft sob escaped Sunset’s throat as she slowly walked towards her chat-lecti, Philomena taking off then landing on a nearby chair. Once Philomena was clear, Sunset pulled them into another hug.
“You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
“We’d be really bad friends if we let something like one little fight ruin things,” Daisy said. “And, well, you forgave us for… not standing up for you in Chromos. You being grouchy was nothing compared to that.”
“I told you I forgive you for that,” Sunset said.
“And we forgive you,” Lily said. “We’re here for you Sunset. After all, what are friends for?
“Yea,” Sunset said as her thoughts began to drift towards her oath-sisters, Dawn Wings’ promise, and the bloodied, one-eyed phantoms that kept haunting her. "What are friends for?"