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Another Pony’s Poison
My hair had to look perfect.
I poked and prodded at it as I peered at myself in the mirror, tried to get the wave at the end just right, ran my hoof along the jagged red and yellow stripes. The same colors as the flaring sun in my cutie mark, which only made me think of… of her.
A vibrant sun on her side as well, but hers lit up a whole room, a city, a world. I used to think I could rival her. Not anymore, though. Not now.
With a sigh, I trotted out the door and into the—her sunlight. I didn’t even bother with my saddlebags. Everything, left behind.
I’d navigated the streets of Canterlot so many times that I didn’t even need to stay conscious of my surroundings. Just… the look on her face. What would Celestia do? Smile down on her former student? Scowl and scream at me to get out? Whatever she chose, I’d repay it in kind: bask in her approval or slink back to what had become my home, if I even dared to fling some accusatory words at her first.
Her lips, pronouncing whatever judgment she saw fit, wrenching them from her throat or letting a honeyed sweetness glisten on them. It all played in my head in slow motion while my unseeing eyes somehow kept me from colliding with the vast crowds that never seemed to have anywhere to go. Did ponies just mill about this city for lack of anything more entertaining to occupy them?
“Name?”
My withers jerked as I blinked up at the guard, his wings half-spread.
“Um… Sunset Shimmer. I have an appointment.”
His clipboard whisked to the side, and he gaped at me. “Sunset? Is that really you?” He grabbed me by the shoulder and laughed as if somepony had told him an inside joke. “I haven’t seen you in ages! It’s me, Silver Spear! Do you remember?”
“Y-yeah,” I said, giving him a crooked smile. “It’s been a long time.” I had no idea who he was.
“Wow, you must have graduated years ago! What have you been up to?”
“Not much, just…” I couldn’t look him in the eye. It felt—it felt great, having him actually care about me like that. Like flitting a little above the ground. But lying to him… Normally I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Sometimes, that would be easier. “I shouldn’t keep Princess Celestia waiting.”
He only beamed back. “Of course, of course! I’ll escort you up and have you announced.”
“No, please,” I replied, staring harder at the cobblestones. “I don’t want to make a big deal about it.”
Like a scarecrow coming undone from its post, he slumped against the guard shack. “You sure? She’ll be happy to see you.”
“She will?” I couldn’t keep from meeting his gaze again, and he nodded as if imparting a solemn vow.
“Yeah. But if you’d rather keep it low-key, I can understand. Go on up,” he said, waving me past.
So I smiled at him, the crinkle in his eyes warming me. “Thanks, Silver Spear.”
I didn’t remember the castle that well, at least not the lesser-traveled parts of it, but after a few false turns, I arrived at the nondescript oak door that Raven had mentioned in her return letter. Princess Celestia would receive me in her private study, at two o’clock sharp, and given the number of times she must have summoned any one of her personal students here to turn in an assignment, take on a task, or—a shudder ran down my back—endure a lecture, I should have been able to find it blindfolded.
The carillon across town rang out its second chime, and with the convoluted melody it played on every hour, it didn’t get to actually tolling the hour until a few minutes after. I was late.
Just a simple door. I could easily knock, but my mind instantly wandered to all the ways I might dash out of here and forget this whole business. I didn’t need her. I didn’t.
So I knocked, quietly. She wouldn’t hear, and I’d leave, and I could say I’d tried. But the door creaked open, too soon, as if she’d stood waiting on the other side, tensed for any small cue.
Princess Celestia peered out at me, and her eyes danced, but she wrested them under her control, melding her lips into a taut line before beckoning me in. Nothing. I felt nothing from her, and… and I’d made a terrible mistake! I shouldn’t be here, just turn and run and never come back!
But that way, I’d never know. I gritted my teeth.
I sat in the chair she offered me, and she proceeded past her desk to the sofa across a low table from me. And she watched. This stupid chair, old and wobbly and threadbare, and surely it hadn’t changed since I last disgraced this city with my presence. The short leg clunked against the floor with my trembling.
“I won’t hurt you,” she said, in such a level tone she might have been the voice of a dictation spell.
I could feel the worry lines cutting into my face like a dried-out mud flat, and why did she have to keep it so cold in here? At least I had my tail to curl around me and keep me warm, but still I shivered.
“Please.” She pointed at a tea service on the table. “Have something hot to drink.”
I had never liked tea, but I poured a mug and gathered it up by my face, letting the steam radiate over my skin as I clutched the heated ceramic against my pasterns. A brown-tinted traitor stared back at me from the rippling surface, but not even that dark hue could tone down the icy blue of my eyes, a blizzard amid the swelter. “Thank you,” I muttered into the cup, ringing hollow. It had a nice scent of cinnamon, so I took a small sip.
She didn’t even bother picking up her tea, content to leave it on the table and swirl it around with her magic. Only the plate of cookies momentarily diverted her attention, but she wouldn’t take one. She was holding back. A blank slate, and I’d never called her that before. Always, her emotions blazed forth like the sun on her flank, on… on our flanks, but she remained locked in a dungeon of her own making.
My hooves shook again, and my head buzzed, worse and worse, until I thought I might pass out, and I staggered upright. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, but—
“No!” I’d never heard such a plaintive wail compressed into one tiny word before, but it slammed into my ears like a cannon shot. “Please. Don’t go.” My knees buckled, and I rolled back onto the chair awkwardly. My chest… tingling, but warm. Finally warm again.
Maybe she still cared.
She sidled to the edge of her seat and craned her neck forward like a foal on Hearth’s Warming imagining the best possibilities of what a carefully wrapped box might contain. “Why did you ask to see me?”
For a moment, I considered telling her the truth: that I hadn’t been feeling right for a while, and I couldn’t remember feeling right since the last time I’d come here, and… and I needed her. Yes, I could live without her, but I’d gotten tired of simply living. “Uh…”
Celestia smiled at me. “Whenever Twilight Sparkle comes back through the mirror, she tells me about all the good things you’ve done.” Still holding something back. She wanted to say more. That it wasn’t enough? That I could never make up for the way I’d stormed off years ago?
But she didn’t know… No, what did she know? An argument, a disappointment, her promising student running away, returning as a common thief, and unleashing magic upon a world that didn’t know what to do with it. Honestly, I didn’t have a much better picture of events. So long ago, and that wasn’t me, not the real me.
“I… I wanted to tell you…” She leaned forward. “It wasn’t easy to come here.”
“I know,” she replied. “I appreciated hearing from you—through my assistant, that is—but believe me, I know.”
So warm, and I finally stopped trembling. A little sip of tea wouldn’t hurt, and if it set her at ease—as if she was the one who should calm down. Still, I took a small swallow and gave a thin smile as if it tasted good. but the bitterness crept in. Just the tea, no, no, I couldn’t—
A sharp sigh, and I cradled my cup in my forelegs. The last time I’d seen her, she gave me a chance. One I didn’t deserve, but then she was just like that. “It’s good to see you again,” I said.
And not like that guard… I couldn’t even remember his name, only ten minutes later. But Celestia. Nopony forgets her.
Celestia only sat up straighter, another part of her workday, another faceless supplicant begging her for something she couldn’t understand, not in her position. When did she ever find herself in need?
Maybe today she did. I’d wasted enough of her time already, but she hadn’t glanced at the clock once. She’d happily sit here all day with me, even if I never spoke another word, but she was waiting. She wanted me to say it. Maybe she did have needs.
Another draught of tea, down quickly, and the bitter flavor turned my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I said. I couldn’t look her in the eye. “What I did, I—”
Before I could move, she practically leapt at me, and she curled her wings around me. And the flood of—I gagged, shuddered, nearly retched. Had she poisoned my tea? Those suffocating feathers, all over! I strained, pushed against her wings, scrabbled with my hooves until she let me go, then jumped toward the wall, slid down it to the floor.
Wrong, so wrong! She did love me, but… such guilt, such regret. My throat spasmed, and I sucked in a cold breath, my mouth agape and a line of drool running down my chin. How could she live like this?
I swallowed down the bile threatening to spill out on the floor, and when I glanced up, she hung there like a rag doll, positively stricken. “I’m sorry,” I wheezed as I fought off another gag. No, no, she hadn’t poisoned me. Why did my mind go there first? She wouldn’t harm me, but I’d picked the wound raw, and I shouldn’t have ever come, shouldn’t have ever presumed to write her that letter saying I wanted to.
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “I don’t blame you.” Whatever would get me out of here quickly, but… I meant it.
“Nopony is ever completely right,” she answered.
This place—it was supposed to end all my problems. It was a stupid idea from the start. Just take the damned absolution, Celestia! Take it so I can leave!
“Every student is different, and I try to gauge how much freedom to allow them, but sometimes I get it horribly wrong.” She took a cautious step toward me, and when I didn’t flinch, she put a hoof on my shoulder, all that warmth, that sweetness coursing along her touch.
“When I first watched you studying with your classmates, you made an obvious natural leader—a chemistry lesson, I think,” she said with a small giggle. “You had a plan of attack to get them all remembering the element symbols, you guided them through it, quizzed them—even praised them for getting it right! I had a brilliant ambassador of friendship and scholarship on my hooves!”
Her smile only radiated more. If I could live on that alone, I’d stay in this place forever.
“Your little group: Secant, who could barely see through his tangles of mane, Lace Doily, who I’m not sure I ever heard speak, Ginkgo and his ability to dredge up the most useless and obscure facts about anything. You were inseparable that first year.” Celestia nearly coughed, and she stared intently at the wall. “My word, when you had them in your corner, you could manage the most impressive feats of magic, like none I’d ever seen before—”
Her gaze quickly swiveled back to me, and her voice dropped low. “I heard about Midnight Sparkle. I always knew you had that potential, but I never expected it to shine that brilliantly.”
I could hear the next “but…” coming.
Her fragile grin faltered. “You grew impatient though, began chastising them. You made Lace Doily do your homework. I had faith that she’d stand up for herself, that you’d recognize the pain you’d caused her… but I’d misjudged more than one pony. And in the end, I’d failed you both by not acting to stop it.”
So sour. I wrenched my throat closed to hold it in. It wouldn’t do to get sick right here in her office!
She hugged me tighter. “I’m so proud of what you’ve become.”
No… no more! A ragged breath scraped its way out of my chest, and I wriggled free of her embrace. I… I couldn’t do this to her. She gaped at me, her jaw trembling, as I stood by the doorway, but—
What in the name of Tartarus was wrong with me? Why would I even care? But I had to get out of here, had to end this the best way I could, for her.
“I don’t belong here,” I said. “I’ve known that for some time. But what I need you to know—and you have to believe me on this!—is that I’m happy there. I really am. I don’t blame you at all, and look at the good that’s come from it!”
Her eyes teared up, and she wanted me to stay, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t. This had to stop. I had to stop.
She felt like she’d done something wrong. But she hadn’t. That warmth, still so sour, and my gut churned. “Please,” I said. “Everything’s going well, on the other side of the mirror. I’ve found my place, where I fit in. Really.”
I forced a smile, and her posture relaxed, so she must have believed it. “Good,” she answered, blinking her tears away. “I’m glad.”
“I’ll write to you. I promise. Or… it’s alright with me if Twilight shares the journal with you. Then you can keep up.”
Too short, too incomplete, I knew, but as a first step… She’d take it gladly. So she nodded. “I love you,” she said quietly. I almost answered.
But I left, slowly, reluctantly at first, then faster, through the halls, past the guard at the gate, thankfully occupied with somepony else, and I dashed through street after street until I found an alley with nopony around, and all that sourness finally broke free—I vomited into an open garbage can, over and over, and when the nausea had died down, the stink of it made my stomach clench again, until I’d purged all that foulness from my stomach.
Such guilt.
Something like that, irrevocably woven into the love, ruined it, poisoned it. Enough, and I couldn’t help feeling it myself: what I’d done, the horrible things I’d done.
I lay there panting in a cold sweat until the sun had dipped low in the sky, and Celestia would be making it set and… I didn’t know why, but the image made me sad. On my own. It hadn’t come from anywhere. Things ending, her, thinking I’d gone, and let her mind be at ease.
Why… why would I want that? Maybe I hadn’t retched out every trace—I forced a hoof down my throat, but I could barely even cough up a trickle of bile.
This hadn’t come from Celestia.
Hoofsteps. Some mare, back at the alley’s entrance, eyed me coughing and spitting. “You poor dear!” she said, and she left some bread on a discarded box before pursing her lips and shaking her head.
For me?
Yes. The warmth—yes, for me. My nausea abated. A little. But I didn’t need her bread. She’d already fed me. Not like Celestia could have—what a powerful love she had! As someone she loved a great deal, whom few others would recognize, who would probably never come here. I’d learned enough about her by sneaking into Twilight’s castle. Maybe if I’d actually gone through the mirror.
No, no, it wouldn’t have worked. I could have set myself for life, but I couldn’t do that to her, and I couldn’t figure out why!
So it’d all end. Relegated to dredging up what little scraps of love I could. How royal.
I didn’t need the bread. I’d leave it for somepony who’d live another day because of it. Maybe I could help—
My head hurt, all dizzy, and I wasn’t even thinking right—helping a pony?—so I retreated into the deeper shadows and shed my disguise, all of it. And as I stretched out my wings, they glittered, just a little, in the faint moonlight.
I didn’t know what that meant. But I didn’t like it.
On filly’s legs, I darted out into the street to find some vagabond I could lead back to that bread, and he’d take pity on an orphaned child, offering to share it with me. I’d insist he eat it, and I’d have my fill anyway.
Somewhere nearby, Celestia would sleep well tonight. I shouldn’t have wanted her to.
I poked and prodded at it as I peered at myself in the mirror, tried to get the wave at the end just right, ran my hoof along the jagged red and yellow stripes. The same colors as the flaring sun in my cutie mark, which only made me think of… of her.
A vibrant sun on her side as well, but hers lit up a whole room, a city, a world. I used to think I could rival her. Not anymore, though. Not now.
With a sigh, I trotted out the door and into the—her sunlight. I didn’t even bother with my saddlebags. Everything, left behind.
I’d navigated the streets of Canterlot so many times that I didn’t even need to stay conscious of my surroundings. Just… the look on her face. What would Celestia do? Smile down on her former student? Scowl and scream at me to get out? Whatever she chose, I’d repay it in kind: bask in her approval or slink back to what had become my home, if I even dared to fling some accusatory words at her first.
Her lips, pronouncing whatever judgment she saw fit, wrenching them from her throat or letting a honeyed sweetness glisten on them. It all played in my head in slow motion while my unseeing eyes somehow kept me from colliding with the vast crowds that never seemed to have anywhere to go. Did ponies just mill about this city for lack of anything more entertaining to occupy them?
“Name?”
My withers jerked as I blinked up at the guard, his wings half-spread.
“Um… Sunset Shimmer. I have an appointment.”
His clipboard whisked to the side, and he gaped at me. “Sunset? Is that really you?” He grabbed me by the shoulder and laughed as if somepony had told him an inside joke. “I haven’t seen you in ages! It’s me, Silver Spear! Do you remember?”
“Y-yeah,” I said, giving him a crooked smile. “It’s been a long time.” I had no idea who he was.
“Wow, you must have graduated years ago! What have you been up to?”
“Not much, just…” I couldn’t look him in the eye. It felt—it felt great, having him actually care about me like that. Like flitting a little above the ground. But lying to him… Normally I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Sometimes, that would be easier. “I shouldn’t keep Princess Celestia waiting.”
He only beamed back. “Of course, of course! I’ll escort you up and have you announced.”
“No, please,” I replied, staring harder at the cobblestones. “I don’t want to make a big deal about it.”
Like a scarecrow coming undone from its post, he slumped against the guard shack. “You sure? She’ll be happy to see you.”
“She will?” I couldn’t keep from meeting his gaze again, and he nodded as if imparting a solemn vow.
“Yeah. But if you’d rather keep it low-key, I can understand. Go on up,” he said, waving me past.
So I smiled at him, the crinkle in his eyes warming me. “Thanks, Silver Spear.”
I didn’t remember the castle that well, at least not the lesser-traveled parts of it, but after a few false turns, I arrived at the nondescript oak door that Raven had mentioned in her return letter. Princess Celestia would receive me in her private study, at two o’clock sharp, and given the number of times she must have summoned any one of her personal students here to turn in an assignment, take on a task, or—a shudder ran down my back—endure a lecture, I should have been able to find it blindfolded.
The carillon across town rang out its second chime, and with the convoluted melody it played on every hour, it didn’t get to actually tolling the hour until a few minutes after. I was late.
Just a simple door. I could easily knock, but my mind instantly wandered to all the ways I might dash out of here and forget this whole business. I didn’t need her. I didn’t.
So I knocked, quietly. She wouldn’t hear, and I’d leave, and I could say I’d tried. But the door creaked open, too soon, as if she’d stood waiting on the other side, tensed for any small cue.
Princess Celestia peered out at me, and her eyes danced, but she wrested them under her control, melding her lips into a taut line before beckoning me in. Nothing. I felt nothing from her, and… and I’d made a terrible mistake! I shouldn’t be here, just turn and run and never come back!
But that way, I’d never know. I gritted my teeth.
I sat in the chair she offered me, and she proceeded past her desk to the sofa across a low table from me. And she watched. This stupid chair, old and wobbly and threadbare, and surely it hadn’t changed since I last disgraced this city with my presence. The short leg clunked against the floor with my trembling.
“I won’t hurt you,” she said, in such a level tone she might have been the voice of a dictation spell.
I could feel the worry lines cutting into my face like a dried-out mud flat, and why did she have to keep it so cold in here? At least I had my tail to curl around me and keep me warm, but still I shivered.
“Please.” She pointed at a tea service on the table. “Have something hot to drink.”
I had never liked tea, but I poured a mug and gathered it up by my face, letting the steam radiate over my skin as I clutched the heated ceramic against my pasterns. A brown-tinted traitor stared back at me from the rippling surface, but not even that dark hue could tone down the icy blue of my eyes, a blizzard amid the swelter. “Thank you,” I muttered into the cup, ringing hollow. It had a nice scent of cinnamon, so I took a small sip.
She didn’t even bother picking up her tea, content to leave it on the table and swirl it around with her magic. Only the plate of cookies momentarily diverted her attention, but she wouldn’t take one. She was holding back. A blank slate, and I’d never called her that before. Always, her emotions blazed forth like the sun on her flank, on… on our flanks, but she remained locked in a dungeon of her own making.
My hooves shook again, and my head buzzed, worse and worse, until I thought I might pass out, and I staggered upright. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, but—
“No!” I’d never heard such a plaintive wail compressed into one tiny word before, but it slammed into my ears like a cannon shot. “Please. Don’t go.” My knees buckled, and I rolled back onto the chair awkwardly. My chest… tingling, but warm. Finally warm again.
Maybe she still cared.
She sidled to the edge of her seat and craned her neck forward like a foal on Hearth’s Warming imagining the best possibilities of what a carefully wrapped box might contain. “Why did you ask to see me?”
For a moment, I considered telling her the truth: that I hadn’t been feeling right for a while, and I couldn’t remember feeling right since the last time I’d come here, and… and I needed her. Yes, I could live without her, but I’d gotten tired of simply living. “Uh…”
Celestia smiled at me. “Whenever Twilight Sparkle comes back through the mirror, she tells me about all the good things you’ve done.” Still holding something back. She wanted to say more. That it wasn’t enough? That I could never make up for the way I’d stormed off years ago?
But she didn’t know… No, what did she know? An argument, a disappointment, her promising student running away, returning as a common thief, and unleashing magic upon a world that didn’t know what to do with it. Honestly, I didn’t have a much better picture of events. So long ago, and that wasn’t me, not the real me.
“I… I wanted to tell you…” She leaned forward. “It wasn’t easy to come here.”
“I know,” she replied. “I appreciated hearing from you—through my assistant, that is—but believe me, I know.”
So warm, and I finally stopped trembling. A little sip of tea wouldn’t hurt, and if it set her at ease—as if she was the one who should calm down. Still, I took a small swallow and gave a thin smile as if it tasted good. but the bitterness crept in. Just the tea, no, no, I couldn’t—
A sharp sigh, and I cradled my cup in my forelegs. The last time I’d seen her, she gave me a chance. One I didn’t deserve, but then she was just like that. “It’s good to see you again,” I said.
And not like that guard… I couldn’t even remember his name, only ten minutes later. But Celestia. Nopony forgets her.
Celestia only sat up straighter, another part of her workday, another faceless supplicant begging her for something she couldn’t understand, not in her position. When did she ever find herself in need?
Maybe today she did. I’d wasted enough of her time already, but she hadn’t glanced at the clock once. She’d happily sit here all day with me, even if I never spoke another word, but she was waiting. She wanted me to say it. Maybe she did have needs.
Another draught of tea, down quickly, and the bitter flavor turned my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I said. I couldn’t look her in the eye. “What I did, I—”
Before I could move, she practically leapt at me, and she curled her wings around me. And the flood of—I gagged, shuddered, nearly retched. Had she poisoned my tea? Those suffocating feathers, all over! I strained, pushed against her wings, scrabbled with my hooves until she let me go, then jumped toward the wall, slid down it to the floor.
Wrong, so wrong! She did love me, but… such guilt, such regret. My throat spasmed, and I sucked in a cold breath, my mouth agape and a line of drool running down my chin. How could she live like this?
I swallowed down the bile threatening to spill out on the floor, and when I glanced up, she hung there like a rag doll, positively stricken. “I’m sorry,” I wheezed as I fought off another gag. No, no, she hadn’t poisoned me. Why did my mind go there first? She wouldn’t harm me, but I’d picked the wound raw, and I shouldn’t have ever come, shouldn’t have ever presumed to write her that letter saying I wanted to.
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “I don’t blame you.” Whatever would get me out of here quickly, but… I meant it.
“Nopony is ever completely right,” she answered.
This place—it was supposed to end all my problems. It was a stupid idea from the start. Just take the damned absolution, Celestia! Take it so I can leave!
“Every student is different, and I try to gauge how much freedom to allow them, but sometimes I get it horribly wrong.” She took a cautious step toward me, and when I didn’t flinch, she put a hoof on my shoulder, all that warmth, that sweetness coursing along her touch.
“When I first watched you studying with your classmates, you made an obvious natural leader—a chemistry lesson, I think,” she said with a small giggle. “You had a plan of attack to get them all remembering the element symbols, you guided them through it, quizzed them—even praised them for getting it right! I had a brilliant ambassador of friendship and scholarship on my hooves!”
Her smile only radiated more. If I could live on that alone, I’d stay in this place forever.
“Your little group: Secant, who could barely see through his tangles of mane, Lace Doily, who I’m not sure I ever heard speak, Ginkgo and his ability to dredge up the most useless and obscure facts about anything. You were inseparable that first year.” Celestia nearly coughed, and she stared intently at the wall. “My word, when you had them in your corner, you could manage the most impressive feats of magic, like none I’d ever seen before—”
Her gaze quickly swiveled back to me, and her voice dropped low. “I heard about Midnight Sparkle. I always knew you had that potential, but I never expected it to shine that brilliantly.”
I could hear the next “but…” coming.
Her fragile grin faltered. “You grew impatient though, began chastising them. You made Lace Doily do your homework. I had faith that she’d stand up for herself, that you’d recognize the pain you’d caused her… but I’d misjudged more than one pony. And in the end, I’d failed you both by not acting to stop it.”
So sour. I wrenched my throat closed to hold it in. It wouldn’t do to get sick right here in her office!
She hugged me tighter. “I’m so proud of what you’ve become.”
No… no more! A ragged breath scraped its way out of my chest, and I wriggled free of her embrace. I… I couldn’t do this to her. She gaped at me, her jaw trembling, as I stood by the doorway, but—
What in the name of Tartarus was wrong with me? Why would I even care? But I had to get out of here, had to end this the best way I could, for her.
“I don’t belong here,” I said. “I’ve known that for some time. But what I need you to know—and you have to believe me on this!—is that I’m happy there. I really am. I don’t blame you at all, and look at the good that’s come from it!”
Her eyes teared up, and she wanted me to stay, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t. This had to stop. I had to stop.
She felt like she’d done something wrong. But she hadn’t. That warmth, still so sour, and my gut churned. “Please,” I said. “Everything’s going well, on the other side of the mirror. I’ve found my place, where I fit in. Really.”
I forced a smile, and her posture relaxed, so she must have believed it. “Good,” she answered, blinking her tears away. “I’m glad.”
“I’ll write to you. I promise. Or… it’s alright with me if Twilight shares the journal with you. Then you can keep up.”
Too short, too incomplete, I knew, but as a first step… She’d take it gladly. So she nodded. “I love you,” she said quietly. I almost answered.
But I left, slowly, reluctantly at first, then faster, through the halls, past the guard at the gate, thankfully occupied with somepony else, and I dashed through street after street until I found an alley with nopony around, and all that sourness finally broke free—I vomited into an open garbage can, over and over, and when the nausea had died down, the stink of it made my stomach clench again, until I’d purged all that foulness from my stomach.
Such guilt.
Something like that, irrevocably woven into the love, ruined it, poisoned it. Enough, and I couldn’t help feeling it myself: what I’d done, the horrible things I’d done.
I lay there panting in a cold sweat until the sun had dipped low in the sky, and Celestia would be making it set and… I didn’t know why, but the image made me sad. On my own. It hadn’t come from anywhere. Things ending, her, thinking I’d gone, and let her mind be at ease.
Why… why would I want that? Maybe I hadn’t retched out every trace—I forced a hoof down my throat, but I could barely even cough up a trickle of bile.
This hadn’t come from Celestia.
Hoofsteps. Some mare, back at the alley’s entrance, eyed me coughing and spitting. “You poor dear!” she said, and she left some bread on a discarded box before pursing her lips and shaking her head.
For me?
Yes. The warmth—yes, for me. My nausea abated. A little. But I didn’t need her bread. She’d already fed me. Not like Celestia could have—what a powerful love she had! As someone she loved a great deal, whom few others would recognize, who would probably never come here. I’d learned enough about her by sneaking into Twilight’s castle. Maybe if I’d actually gone through the mirror.
No, no, it wouldn’t have worked. I could have set myself for life, but I couldn’t do that to her, and I couldn’t figure out why!
So it’d all end. Relegated to dredging up what little scraps of love I could. How royal.
I didn’t need the bread. I’d leave it for somepony who’d live another day because of it. Maybe I could help—
My head hurt, all dizzy, and I wasn’t even thinking right—helping a pony?—so I retreated into the deeper shadows and shed my disguise, all of it. And as I stretched out my wings, they glittered, just a little, in the faint moonlight.
I didn’t know what that meant. But I didn’t like it.
On filly’s legs, I darted out into the street to find some vagabond I could lead back to that bread, and he’d take pity on an orphaned child, offering to share it with me. I’d insist he eat it, and I’d have my fill anyway.
Somewhere nearby, Celestia would sleep well tonight. I shouldn’t have wanted her to.
Pics
Okay, so let me start by saying that I had to read this twice. Well, let's say twice as a bit, because it wasn't until I reread the ending that I actually interpreted what it was saying. Then I read the whole thing again.
If I'm being vague, it's intentional. I don't want someone browsing over the comments to read this before reading the story and ruin it for themselves by mistake. So, theoretical comment reader, stop reading my words, scroll up, and read this story. Then read it again. It's worth it.
And to the author: fantastic work. I mean it. The story read exactly how (I believe) it was supposed to. Stories like this are difficult to pull off—I wouldn't even begin to believe I could manage such a feat—but you nailed it. This was more than a pleasure to read, it was a delight.
If I'm being vague, it's intentional. I don't want someone browsing over the comments to read this before reading the story and ruin it for themselves by mistake. So, theoretical comment reader, stop reading my words, scroll up, and read this story. Then read it again. It's worth it.
And to the author: fantastic work. I mean it. The story read exactly how (I believe) it was supposed to. Stories like this are difficult to pull off—I wouldn't even begin to believe I could manage such a feat—but you nailed it. This was more than a pleasure to read, it was a delight.
Huh. Hunh. Well, this was a heck of a start to my reading. I, too, had to give it a second pass, not because the first one lost me but because I wanted to reread it to gnaw at all the little details and savor the craft of its construction. And since this is a story about baconhair visiting Celestia and then being a changeling I'm gonna have to jump straight to spoilers.
The scene with Silver Spear was magnificently subtle — well done on the way it hides her reaction to his emotions in place sight. As the scene with Celestia continued, I started to feel like there was an unusual emphasis on love: "Hunh," I thought. "This has weird overtones, like Sunset's a changeling or something." But the story held together excellently on the surface level, to the point where I didn't find that meta-analysis breaking me out; with a few odd exceptions, like the poisoning thing, I wasn't going into my reading feeling like it was building up to a twist. IOW, I spotted the twist and it didn't cause me to lose interest in the cover story. That's solid craftsmanship right there.
If it had held that level of quality throughout, this would have been an instant top contender, but unfortunately I feel like the ending is the weakest part here -- I'd be all too willing to believe it got slapped together in the deadline rush. The specific part where I start really questioning the craft here is the second layer of reveal — not just that Shimmy is herself a changeling, but the signaling that she's Chrysalis in specific. (One: "I’d learned enough about her by sneaking into Twilight’s castle. Maybe if I’d actually gone through the mirror." Two: "Relegated to dredging up what little scraps of love I could. How royal", emphasis author's.) This is daring, don't get me wrong! — and it's the thing that sent me lunging for an immediate re-read, because if you roll with a twist that big you've got a lot to keep square.
The thing is, any way you roll with "Sunset is a changeling" your readers are gonna have questions (I certainly did) — what's the backstory here? Did she get replaced, or was she always this way? How come we don't see her doing changeling-y things in canon? Did she ever actually turn evil, or was that just the real her getting replaced? This is really fertile ground for storytelling. But by specifically framing this story as "we've never actually seen Sunset this whole time", you are setting yourself up for double the questioning: namely, how does this interloper know Sunset's concerns, why do they share those concerns (beyond the simple "pretending to care in order to feed", which in a few places seems pretty clear that's not the extent of it), and most importantly, what do they get out of faking a reconciliation between Celestia and the-real-Sunset-who-could-expose-the-ruse-at-any-time-just-by-writing-a-letter?
This is an insane promise to make if the narrator isn't Sunset Shimmer! It'll blow the whole thing open the first time Celestia sends a note saying "thanks for your visit" or asks for the journal she's been promised!
Author, I think this story certainly could be made to work with Chrysalis as the narrator, but it then also has to at least lampshade the central question of why she'd choose this particular form and what she gets out of this fake (and easily exposed!) "reconciliation". Getting in to talk to Celestia and see how she's doing is one thing, but she doesn't have to go so far out on a limb for Sunset, nor care about the things that she appears to genuinely care about which should only matter to Sunset herself, and the ending doubles down on that by hinting hard that she's doing this for Celestia and/or Sunset's happiness (which makes the fragile fakery here doubly weird). More so, why would she try to fix Sunset's relationship while putting almost zero effort that I can tell into advancing her own interests? What happened to Chrysalis to make her so unrelentingly selfless here?
But honestly, comparing even a well-executed Chrysalis twist to the "Sunset Shimmer is herself a changeling" twist which this story supported right up until the end, I kinda want to read the latter more. So much of the story so sincerely addresses the meaty issue of her Celestia reconciliation that I feel like you could strengthen this by doubling down on it. Having said that, though, I think there are clues from the beginning that that wasn't your intention, specifically her failure to recognize Silver Spear. (Maybe you could split the difference by having the real Sunset (who fled to Humania) be dead and this one be a changeling replacement who has taken over her through-the-portal life in her absence?) If you really dug into those questions bringing me up short on the Chrysalis idea, though, I think you could sell it to this level as well. The rest of the story certainly supports the idea that you've got the chops to do it without the deadline pressure hanging over your head.
So, yeah. Not quite closing the deal with text as written, but that doesn't stop this from being an ambitious piece that succeeds at most of its goals, and going to be an early high water mark for my reading.
Tier: Strong
The scene with Silver Spear was magnificently subtle — well done on the way it hides her reaction to his emotions in place sight. As the scene with Celestia continued, I started to feel like there was an unusual emphasis on love: "Hunh," I thought. "This has weird overtones, like Sunset's a changeling or something." But the story held together excellently on the surface level, to the point where I didn't find that meta-analysis breaking me out; with a few odd exceptions, like the poisoning thing, I wasn't going into my reading feeling like it was building up to a twist. IOW, I spotted the twist and it didn't cause me to lose interest in the cover story. That's solid craftsmanship right there.
If it had held that level of quality throughout, this would have been an instant top contender, but unfortunately I feel like the ending is the weakest part here -- I'd be all too willing to believe it got slapped together in the deadline rush. The specific part where I start really questioning the craft here is the second layer of reveal — not just that Shimmy is herself a changeling, but the signaling that she's Chrysalis in specific. (One: "I’d learned enough about her by sneaking into Twilight’s castle. Maybe if I’d actually gone through the mirror." Two: "Relegated to dredging up what little scraps of love I could. How royal", emphasis author's.) This is daring, don't get me wrong! — and it's the thing that sent me lunging for an immediate re-read, because if you roll with a twist that big you've got a lot to keep square.
The thing is, any way you roll with "Sunset is a changeling" your readers are gonna have questions (I certainly did) — what's the backstory here? Did she get replaced, or was she always this way? How come we don't see her doing changeling-y things in canon? Did she ever actually turn evil, or was that just the real her getting replaced? This is really fertile ground for storytelling. But by specifically framing this story as "we've never actually seen Sunset this whole time", you are setting yourself up for double the questioning: namely, how does this interloper know Sunset's concerns, why do they share those concerns (beyond the simple "pretending to care in order to feed", which in a few places seems pretty clear that's not the extent of it), and most importantly, what do they get out of faking a reconciliation between Celestia and the-real-Sunset-who-could-expose-the-ruse-at-any-time-just-by-writing-a-letter?
“I’ll write to you. I promise. Or… it’s alright with me if Twilight shares the journal with you. Then you can keep up.”
This is an insane promise to make if the narrator isn't Sunset Shimmer! It'll blow the whole thing open the first time Celestia sends a note saying "thanks for your visit" or asks for the journal she's been promised!
Author, I think this story certainly could be made to work with Chrysalis as the narrator, but it then also has to at least lampshade the central question of why she'd choose this particular form and what she gets out of this fake (and easily exposed!) "reconciliation". Getting in to talk to Celestia and see how she's doing is one thing, but she doesn't have to go so far out on a limb for Sunset, nor care about the things that she appears to genuinely care about which should only matter to Sunset herself, and the ending doubles down on that by hinting hard that she's doing this for Celestia and/or Sunset's happiness (which makes the fragile fakery here doubly weird). More so, why would she try to fix Sunset's relationship while putting almost zero effort that I can tell into advancing her own interests? What happened to Chrysalis to make her so unrelentingly selfless here?
But honestly, comparing even a well-executed Chrysalis twist to the "Sunset Shimmer is herself a changeling" twist which this story supported right up until the end, I kinda want to read the latter more. So much of the story so sincerely addresses the meaty issue of her Celestia reconciliation that I feel like you could strengthen this by doubling down on it. Having said that, though, I think there are clues from the beginning that that wasn't your intention, specifically her failure to recognize Silver Spear. (Maybe you could split the difference by having the real Sunset (who fled to Humania) be dead and this one be a changeling replacement who has taken over her through-the-portal life in her absence?) If you really dug into those questions bringing me up short on the Chrysalis idea, though, I think you could sell it to this level as well. The rest of the story certainly supports the idea that you've got the chops to do it without the deadline pressure hanging over your head.
So, yeah. Not quite closing the deal with text as written, but that doesn't stop this from being an ambitious piece that succeeds at most of its goals, and going to be an early high water mark for my reading.
Tier: Strong
My initial read I was going back and forth on the first section as to whether this was a parting or reunion, as it had shades of both, and her actions didn't quite fit. Everything makes much more sense on the re-read, of course.
I did feel like I was getting mixed messages throughout, but not to the point where I saw the twist coming. Overall it was solid, and impressive that the narrative worked on both levels. It dug up a number of questions, though, as we're left to infer just who this is, and how they've had their hoof in past events; as >>horizon pointed out - it's still up for interpretation.
The ending definitely unwound the tension as compared to the meeting with Celestia, though with hints at further depths left unexplained. Overall, I found it intriguing and well written, but I'm left without any firm conclusions.
I did feel like I was getting mixed messages throughout, but not to the point where I saw the twist coming. Overall it was solid, and impressive that the narrative worked on both levels. It dug up a number of questions, though, as we're left to infer just who this is, and how they've had their hoof in past events; as >>horizon pointed out - it's still up for interpretation.
The ending definitely unwound the tension as compared to the meeting with Celestia, though with hints at further depths left unexplained. Overall, I found it intriguing and well written, but I'm left without any firm conclusions.
I started not liking this concept-wise because I'm an ass and 'Sunset reconciliates with Celestia', on its own, is kind of boring a thing to do -- been there done that. Then I went on reading and I really started to like it, 'cause the writing was pretty strong. I haven't finished my entire ballot, but this was going on top contender on that alone.
Then I got to the ending! And yeah, screw the initial complain -- which is extremely biased, so it's not like it was gonna affect my voting anyway; I'm just saying it so you know you won me over -- I like the prompt in this one. Good job!
Spoilers now, I guess.
I find myself disagreeing with >>horizon a bit here. On the one hand, at no point did I think that this was meant to be a "Sunset has been a changeling all along" story -- the moment I picked up that she was one of those I immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was a completely different character.
So, yeah, I disagree with the idea that this would be better if the changeling was the Sunset we all know and love. Her interaction with Silver Spear, and the constant commentary on Celestia's misjudgement of ponies -- fancy foreshadowing, that one, by the way -- make the story much stronger if this ISN'T Sunset, I believe.
Plus, why does the changeling care if Celestia finds out it was all a lie at one point? They've already fed. There's no reason for the changeling to return; let them know the truth if they want to. As long as Celestia doesn't realize this in the moment they're safe.
Mind you: I have only read this once, and I'll admit that I might have missed some details. I'll re-read later today when I have the time, to see how it stands up.
As it is, though? I liked it! And I really like the ending. Good job, author. Top of the ballot for you so far.
Then I got to the ending! And yeah, screw the initial complain -- which is extremely biased, so it's not like it was gonna affect my voting anyway; I'm just saying it so you know you won me over -- I like the prompt in this one. Good job!
Spoilers now, I guess.
I find myself disagreeing with >>horizon a bit here. On the one hand, at no point did I think that this was meant to be a "Sunset has been a changeling all along" story -- the moment I picked up that she was one of those I immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was a completely different character.
So, yeah, I disagree with the idea that this would be better if the changeling was the Sunset we all know and love. Her interaction with Silver Spear, and the constant commentary on Celestia's misjudgement of ponies -- fancy foreshadowing, that one, by the way -- make the story much stronger if this ISN'T Sunset, I believe.
Plus, why does the changeling care if Celestia finds out it was all a lie at one point? They've already fed. There's no reason for the changeling to return; let them know the truth if they want to. As long as Celestia doesn't realize this in the moment they're safe.
Mind you: I have only read this once, and I'll admit that I might have missed some details. I'll re-read later today when I have the time, to see how it stands up.
As it is, though? I liked it! And I really like the ending. Good job, author. Top of the ballot for you so far.
On my own. It hadn’t come from anywhere. Things ending, her, thinking I’d gone, and let her mind be at ease.
I like the story, but I'm totally confused by what happened. Lines like this threw me and I never quite pieced together what you were trying to say. Does Sunset just feel guilty and can't forgive herself? Is she mad that Celestia loves her? Is that love a romantic love, and is it unrequited? I'm left with too many questions because you were overly poetic about what Sunset's problem was. I don't get it. I'm not even sure about the nature of her relationship with Celestia prior to her betrayal, and that's the central theme of the story.
Maybe if I read the story again a few more times, but I don't have time to at the moment. Still, it's a powerful story, and I like it. Just try to make the conflict—and the message, if there is one—less muddy.
Also, I don't think Celestia would choose this of all moments to recount Sunset's failures as a filly, especially if she loves her and is desperate as she seems to be to be near her. That shouldn't be what is important right now. Sure, she'd talk about how proud she is of her, but not remind her of why she left.
Okay, I totally missed the ending until peeking at some reviews. I thought her 'disguise' was just that she had become an alicorn but was hiding this fact.
Does Celestia know about Sunset? Is she the one who went to Canterlot High or is that another Sunset? I have more questions now than before, unfortunately.
Does Celestia know about Sunset? Is she the one who went to Canterlot High or is that another Sunset? I have more questions now than before, unfortunately.
I actually went through a double twist with this one. At first I was confused by Sunset reacting so strongly to Celestia's emotions. It didn't even occur to me at first that she may be a changeling/Chrysalis. I figured, "oh, it's her Empathic abilities going kinda nuts from being back in Equestria for more than five minutes." Which, if intended, is a fantastic misdirection of expectation.
And then the descriptions start going into sweets and sours and it all starts to fall together for real. I'll have to come back for seconds after I work through some more of the finalist slate, but good job.
And then the descriptions start going into sweets and sours and it all starts to fall together for real. I'll have to come back for seconds after I work through some more of the finalist slate, but good job.
>>horizon
I actually have to give almost the opposite review! I think the ending is the strongest part in what is otherwise a fairly weak story.
To be clear, when I say the ending is the strong part, I mean the concept here is strong. It's original, its creative, and it's full of narrative potential. Sunset Shimmer being a changeling alters her entire relationship with Celestia, and the questions of Sunset's true identity and if Celestia knows add rich complexity to an already quite layered connection. I would love to see a story that explores this concept in detail, and hope the author expands on this notion in the future.
Unfortunately, as written, I think this story's execution is lacking. I didn't pick up that she was a changeling until the end, and without that detail, it's a pretty bland and melodramatic "Sunset/Celestia reconcile" story. The twist really got my attention, but by the paragraph before the twist, I was getting pretty bored with the story. I think the foreground plot needs a lot more polish if it's going to hold the readers attention until the background plot kicks in.
This story will end up near the middle of my slate, but seriously author, I would love to see a second try at this concept. You've got a really cool idea here, and with a little more fiddling, it could be really strong.
I actually have to give almost the opposite review! I think the ending is the strongest part in what is otherwise a fairly weak story.
To be clear, when I say the ending is the strong part, I mean the concept here is strong. It's original, its creative, and it's full of narrative potential. Sunset Shimmer being a changeling alters her entire relationship with Celestia, and the questions of Sunset's true identity and if Celestia knows add rich complexity to an already quite layered connection. I would love to see a story that explores this concept in detail, and hope the author expands on this notion in the future.
Unfortunately, as written, I think this story's execution is lacking. I didn't pick up that she was a changeling until the end, and without that detail, it's a pretty bland and melodramatic "Sunset/Celestia reconcile" story. The twist really got my attention, but by the paragraph before the twist, I was getting pretty bored with the story. I think the foreground plot needs a lot more polish if it's going to hold the readers attention until the background plot kicks in.
This story will end up near the middle of my slate, but seriously author, I would love to see a second try at this concept. You've got a really cool idea here, and with a little more fiddling, it could be really strong.
Wow, I'm a couple pages in and haven't seen anything I felt I needed to comment on. That's almost certainly a good thing. I like the pacing so far.
Okay, starting to feel a little heavy on the self hate here.
It drags on a little too long in the office before the hug happens.
Wow, that twist of an ending! Superbly done! And here I was, all ready to talk about how Sunset was far too uncertain and weird about accepting forgiveness, but that's all justified by the twist!
That said, I did have to reread the last couple of paragraphs a few times to fully parse who was doing what and when. There's a lot of "her" and "she" and other unattached pronouns in there. Deliberate, I'm sure, for obfuscation purposes, but it makes it a bit difficult to follow.
So, yeah, overall, I'm a big fan of Sunset, and the "reconciliation with Celestia" story is right up there with Luna's redemption for me in terms of powerful moments I can't get enough takes on. But this story did that in a way that was feeling just ever so slightly off (but still emotionally strong) to me. Then it twists it all in the ending, making it both happier and sadder at the same time. Absolutely a brilliant way to go, with foreshadowing all the way through, and deserving the same sort of rewind as The Usual Suspects.
Okay, starting to feel a little heavy on the self hate here.
It drags on a little too long in the office before the hug happens.
Wow, that twist of an ending! Superbly done! And here I was, all ready to talk about how Sunset was far too uncertain and weird about accepting forgiveness, but that's all justified by the twist!
That said, I did have to reread the last couple of paragraphs a few times to fully parse who was doing what and when. There's a lot of "her" and "she" and other unattached pronouns in there. Deliberate, I'm sure, for obfuscation purposes, but it makes it a bit difficult to follow.
So, yeah, overall, I'm a big fan of Sunset, and the "reconciliation with Celestia" story is right up there with Luna's redemption for me in terms of powerful moments I can't get enough takes on. But this story did that in a way that was feeling just ever so slightly off (but still emotionally strong) to me. Then it twists it all in the ending, making it both happier and sadder at the same time. Absolutely a brilliant way to go, with foreshadowing all the way through, and deserving the same sort of rewind as The Usual Suspects.
This story delivers a lot to think about with very little effort, and it honestly does get better with each read-through. Well done with constructing the twist! This story is pretty much textbook on how to make your readers scroll the hell back up in the best possible way.
It's not often that I disagree with >>horizon, but I do want to point out what I considered to be a flaw. Specifically, the first two-thirds of this story really did not engage me greatly. For all intents and purposes, it looked exactly like another "guilty-feeling pony is sad about her life" story, which we've probably all seen more times than we'd like. It was not until the hints became pretty obvious that I sat up and leaned forward towards my computer screen.
To fix this, I would not suggest making the upcoming twist more clear; I think you've already telegraphed it pretty well. But maybe try to frame the interactions between Sunset and Celestia as something other than the whole "I shouldn't have come!" guilt-trip song and dance we've all seen before. The twist will have so much more impact if the reader is that much more invested in the conversation between the two.
But I do agree with horizon that the ambiguity regarding the ending. If Sunset is the changeling/narrator, then it doesn't make much sense that she is frightened by the fact that she cares about ponies. If this changeling isn't Sunset, then how does she know so much about Sunset's life?
This problem has an easy fix—just clarify. :P
Overall, I think this story has a heck of a lot of potential, but my reading experience did fumble significantly at the afore mentioned key moments. I'll be honest and say that this is definitely not the entry that I enjoyed reading the most from a purely personal standpoint, but I'm also honest when I say that I think this one excites me the most when I think about what a re-work can do for it.
It's not often that I disagree with >>horizon, but I do want to point out what I considered to be a flaw. Specifically, the first two-thirds of this story really did not engage me greatly. For all intents and purposes, it looked exactly like another "guilty-feeling pony is sad about her life" story, which we've probably all seen more times than we'd like. It was not until the hints became pretty obvious that I sat up and leaned forward towards my computer screen.
To fix this, I would not suggest making the upcoming twist more clear; I think you've already telegraphed it pretty well. But maybe try to frame the interactions between Sunset and Celestia as something other than the whole "I shouldn't have come!" guilt-trip song and dance we've all seen before. The twist will have so much more impact if the reader is that much more invested in the conversation between the two.
But I do agree with horizon that the ambiguity regarding the ending. If Sunset is the changeling/narrator, then it doesn't make much sense that she is frightened by the fact that she cares about ponies. If this changeling isn't Sunset, then how does she know so much about Sunset's life?
This problem has an easy fix—just clarify. :P
Overall, I think this story has a heck of a lot of potential, but my reading experience did fumble significantly at the afore mentioned key moments. I'll be honest and say that this is definitely not the entry that I enjoyed reading the most from a purely personal standpoint, but I'm also honest when I say that I think this one excites me the most when I think about what a re-work can do for it.
Shorter paragraphs, simpler sentences, less navel-gazing. This is the epitome of writing that reads like writing; You're always aware you're seeing words on a page, something a person has written. Even when it's good words, it's not immersive. This paragraph was a chief offender to me;
This would be a great story at half the length.
I had never liked tea, but I poured a mug and gathered it up by my face, letting the steam radiate over my skin as I clutched the heated ceramic against my pasterns. A brown-tinted traitor stared back at me from the rippling surface, but not even that dark hue could tone down the icy blue of my eyes, a blizzard amid the swelter. “Thank you,” I muttered into the cup, ringing hollow.
This would be a great story at half the length.
>>Bachiavellian
The narrator mentions sneaking into Twilight's castle and laments not going through the mirror. It seems implied they read the journal to learn what they needed for the story.
The narrator mentions sneaking into Twilight's castle and laments not going through the mirror. It seems implied they read the journal to learn what they needed for the story.
>>Cyrano
Oh, that clears things up. Thanks!
Personally, I think it shouldn't have been so subtle. But go ahead and take that with a grain of salt, author, because I know I can be a dumb reader sometimes.
Oh, that clears things up. Thanks!
Personally, I think it shouldn't have been so subtle. But go ahead and take that with a grain of salt, author, because I know I can be a dumb reader sometimes.
Blah blah audion.
https://drive.google.com/open?id=1RiWockitPBDj1hvlT2w__WwpjZjm5zNh
Brief addendum: I missed the twist. The twist is clever and solidly woven in, but overall doesn't affect the nature of my audio review and, in many ways, sort of amplifies it. It ends up being hard to engage and look for it because I'm so forced backwards by the stuff as presented. That said, seriously, nice job with that. It is clever.
https://drive.google.com/open?id=1RiWockitPBDj1hvlT2w__WwpjZjm5zNh
Brief addendum: I missed the twist. The twist is clever and solidly woven in, but overall doesn't affect the nature of my audio review and, in many ways, sort of amplifies it. It ends up being hard to engage and look for it because I'm so forced backwards by the stuff as presented. That said, seriously, nice job with that. It is clever.
Really got me with the twist at the end! Well done with that.
The lead-up, though... this is the kind of story you have to read twice. That can be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it can be really satisfying for the reader when something that they can sense a deliberateness to but don't understand suddenly comes together and there's that neat moment of, "it all makes sense now!" On the other hand, this can also backfire for many readers, who will feel their time is wasted if they do have to read twice to get it. Ideally something like this should hit the best of both worlds - allowing readers to get that sudden moment of delightful comprehension, but without being so subtle that it requires a second reading to catch what's really going on. Execution is everything for making this kind of story work. I'm actually finding it hard to come up with any detailed critique of the execution here because it's something I'd have to think about for a while and let it stew, which I don't think there's really time for. Personally, I liked it, though I am also in agreement with many of the shortcomings noted by the reviewers above me.
The lead-up, though... this is the kind of story you have to read twice. That can be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it can be really satisfying for the reader when something that they can sense a deliberateness to but don't understand suddenly comes together and there's that neat moment of, "it all makes sense now!" On the other hand, this can also backfire for many readers, who will feel their time is wasted if they do have to read twice to get it. Ideally something like this should hit the best of both worlds - allowing readers to get that sudden moment of delightful comprehension, but without being so subtle that it requires a second reading to catch what's really going on. Execution is everything for making this kind of story work. I'm actually finding it hard to come up with any detailed critique of the execution here because it's something I'd have to think about for a while and let it stew, which I don't think there's really time for. Personally, I liked it, though I am also in agreement with many of the shortcomings noted by the reviewers above me.
At first this story seemed sorta over the top dramatic. Then the twist... You are some hell-a good. All the things in the story that seemed like Sunset being super over the top drama queen, was the perfect set up for that paradigm shift of a twist.
This is a difficult kind of piece to write, where it relies so much on the reader picking up subtlety. Too subtle, and readers don't understand what happened, not subtle enough, and you give it all away up front. That said, this was actually pretty fun to write, coming up with things to say that work from either perspective. Interesting that so many people read it twice to get that effect, because I almost suggested it, but I don't know that it would have been a good idea to try inserting something like an author's note. However, I wasn't terribly engaged while writing the second half, and I didn't get much time for revision or edits, which may fit with why horizon liked the beginning better. More on that in a bit. But it's essential for this kind of story to get outside opinions, because subtlety is nearly impossible for the author to judge himself; he already knows everything that happens and why, after all.
>>Winston thought the "read it twice" was problematic, and I'm not sure I'd change anything to accommodate that. A second reading isn't going to alter the concept as a whole; it's just going to show how the details still work for the different perspective, and those are minutiae the reader isn't going to remember anyway, so while I know it may hinder some readers, it's a risk I'm probably willing to take.
>>Cyrano
>>Rao
>>Xepher
>>Lamplighter
I'm glad you enjoyed it. I wonder if you wouldn't have any feedback about how to apportion the subtlety better. If so, scroll down a bit further to where I reply to horizon and Aragon, since I'll be going into detail there.
Then we have the middle ground folks. >>Caliaponia and >>Trick_Question didn't spot enough of the clues to decide exactly what the ending meant. Given that horizon kind of felt this way, too, I probably erred on the side of not giving enough information. And to >>AndrewRogue, I presume you're in this camp, too, but I haven't listened to it yet, and truth be told, I'm probably not going to remember to when I get home from work.
>>GaPJaxie
I'm actually not surprised by this. You've said before that the way I like to write limited narrative voices just doesn't mesh with your tastes very well, so the part I spent more time on doing so is the part you like the least. This also brings up another issue. You felt it was bland in concept because it's a Sunset reconciliation story. horizon and Xepher liked it because it was a Sunset reconciliation story. You didn't like the writing style, but it won Aragon over to a concept that he even started out feeling was inherently bland. So when different people (who know what they're doing, moreover) cite the exact same thing as a strength and a weakness, I really don't know what I'm supposed to do with that.
A few specifics:
>>Trick_Question
Celestia didn't go over Sunset's failures to chastise her. She took ownership of it and blamed herself, which accentuates the flood of guilt she feels from Celestia. Maybe I should have a more explicit uptick in it here.
>>Xepher
>>Bachiavellian echoed this. It's another thing I'm trying to fine-tune. I had a couple of competing interests here. One, I was aiming for a particular word count, closer to 2500, and ended up overshooting it, so I have space to cut back, and this is likely where I'll do so. But I also wanted to push the reveal as late in the story as possible, and once the hug happens, Sunset's reactions necessarily become more pronounced.
>>horizon
>>Aragon
And here we come to the meat of it. You two are the ones I'd particularly like to engage with to fine-tune this, since you spelled out more details of your reading and you pretty much understood what happened.
Aragon hit almost everything spot on. horizon wasn't as sure, but the interpretation he settled on as most likely is also more or less the correct one. This is the full explanation, plus the clues I left to try getting it across:
The story takes place after Thorax and all the other changelings left. There's nothing explicitly saying a time period, but Chrysalis noting her wings were glittery (this was new to Thorax, so was probably an unknown effect prior to that) and her working entirely alone and never mentioning she had anyone else to feed was supposed to hint at a time period.
Chrysalis is just so beaten down from trying to live on her own that she doesn't even harbor resentment toward Celestia. She explicitly says she doesn't have ill will anymore, which wouldn't immediately stand out, but on a second read would explain why she later tried to work toward Celestia's benefit and why her wings had started to glitter a bit.
Now more to the question of exactly who this is. I've already said it's Chrysalis, and the "royal" line horizon picks out is the spot where it's most bluntly said. The fact that she's working alone supports this, too. Yes, she could be some isolated low-ranking changeling, one that missed all the goings-on because she was in the human world or something, but the "royal" and the aloneness together point toward it being Chrysalis post-Thorax.
Now, because it's Chrysalis, Sunset clearly hasn't been a changeling all along, but even if this weren't Chrysalis, she explicitly says she's never been through the mirror. Bachiavellian asks how she learned as much as she did about Sunset, and Chrysalis says that directly: that she'd snuck around Twilight's castle enough to eavesdrop. She doesn't actually know that much, but she thinks it isn't necessary.
So once Chrysalis learns enough about her, just think about it. This is the perfect crime. Chrysalis doesn't have anywhere to stash the real Sunset away under guard, and she hasn't been able (or hasn't wanted to) go through the mirror to do it anyway. Besides, she knows she might not have any magic there. But Sunset never comes through. There is the one EqG short where she did briefly, but Chrysalis may be unaware of that. Chrysalis can impersonate Sunset. Celestia loves Sunset and has very powerful love, which makes it an ideal feeding scenario for her. The real Sunset is exceedingly unlikely to show up and blow her cover. Pretty much everyone else who knows Sunset lives in Ponyville, so Chrysalis is unlikely to encounter anyone in Canterlot who will blow her cover (this is another reason why the guard surprises her). Chrysalis actually goes through these criteria at the same spot where she says she never went through the mirror. She could keep up this deception for a long time.
However, it breaks down. Celestia feels so much guilt about Sunset, and it's part and parcel of her love, so Chrysalis can't help eating that too, and it's unpalatable. Not only can't she digest it, but it's so strong that it makes her take on those feelings of guilt as well. That compounds her general non-aggression toward Celestia into making Chrysalis feel bad about what she's doing. So she has two choices.
She can try to assuage Celestia's guilt and make her a viable food source again, or she can make a hasty exit. At first, she does the former, but it's immediately apparent that it's never going to work. Celestia's never going to lose that guilt. Chrysalis then does the latter, but she still attempts to patch things up.
This is the one thing Aragon didn't catch in response to horizon's question about why Chrysalis would take the risk of promising that Sunset would write. Chrysalis is teetering on the edge between those two choices, and promising to write is a desperate attempt to make Celestia feel better, but as soon as she says it, she knows she doesn't want to keep that up. So she offers to let Celestia read the journal because she's reasonably sure Twilight and the real Sunset wouldn't mind, and that way Celestia can keep up with Sunset again. Originally, Chrysalis had hoped Celestia would be an ongoing food source, and the offer of letters and statements that she didn't blame Celestia were a last-ditch effort to salvage that.
horizon's right: this is a huge risk. She wouldn't have taken it if she felt her long-term plan would work, but it's fallen through, so only now is Aragon correct that Chrysalis doesn't care if she's exposed. It's over anyway. She only needs to buy enough time to get away, but even then, she wants to do so in a way that helps Celestia heal, and she states this outright in wishing Celestia would accept her forgiveness so she could leave. Why? It goes back to Chrysalis having generally lost her aggression toward Celestia, plus Chrysalis being forced to feel the guilt she's ingested.
Then at the end, even purged of her guilt, Chrysalis still has a fleeting moment of wanting to help someone and wishing Celestia well.
Any advice on where the sweet spot is at getting all that across better without just dumping explanations?
>>Winston thought the "read it twice" was problematic, and I'm not sure I'd change anything to accommodate that. A second reading isn't going to alter the concept as a whole; it's just going to show how the details still work for the different perspective, and those are minutiae the reader isn't going to remember anyway, so while I know it may hinder some readers, it's a risk I'm probably willing to take.
>>Cyrano
>>Rao
>>Xepher
>>Lamplighter
I'm glad you enjoyed it. I wonder if you wouldn't have any feedback about how to apportion the subtlety better. If so, scroll down a bit further to where I reply to horizon and Aragon, since I'll be going into detail there.
Then we have the middle ground folks. >>Caliaponia and >>Trick_Question didn't spot enough of the clues to decide exactly what the ending meant. Given that horizon kind of felt this way, too, I probably erred on the side of not giving enough information. And to >>AndrewRogue, I presume you're in this camp, too, but I haven't listened to it yet, and truth be told, I'm probably not going to remember to when I get home from work.
>>GaPJaxie
I'm actually not surprised by this. You've said before that the way I like to write limited narrative voices just doesn't mesh with your tastes very well, so the part I spent more time on doing so is the part you like the least. This also brings up another issue. You felt it was bland in concept because it's a Sunset reconciliation story. horizon and Xepher liked it because it was a Sunset reconciliation story. You didn't like the writing style, but it won Aragon over to a concept that he even started out feeling was inherently bland. So when different people (who know what they're doing, moreover) cite the exact same thing as a strength and a weakness, I really don't know what I'm supposed to do with that.
A few specifics:
>>Trick_Question
Celestia didn't go over Sunset's failures to chastise her. She took ownership of it and blamed herself, which accentuates the flood of guilt she feels from Celestia. Maybe I should have a more explicit uptick in it here.
>>Xepher
It drags on a little too long in the office before the hug happens.
>>Bachiavellian echoed this. It's another thing I'm trying to fine-tune. I had a couple of competing interests here. One, I was aiming for a particular word count, closer to 2500, and ended up overshooting it, so I have space to cut back, and this is likely where I'll do so. But I also wanted to push the reveal as late in the story as possible, and once the hug happens, Sunset's reactions necessarily become more pronounced.
>>horizon
>>Aragon
And here we come to the meat of it. You two are the ones I'd particularly like to engage with to fine-tune this, since you spelled out more details of your reading and you pretty much understood what happened.
Aragon hit almost everything spot on. horizon wasn't as sure, but the interpretation he settled on as most likely is also more or less the correct one. This is the full explanation, plus the clues I left to try getting it across:
The story takes place after Thorax and all the other changelings left. There's nothing explicitly saying a time period, but Chrysalis noting her wings were glittery (this was new to Thorax, so was probably an unknown effect prior to that) and her working entirely alone and never mentioning she had anyone else to feed was supposed to hint at a time period.
Chrysalis is just so beaten down from trying to live on her own that she doesn't even harbor resentment toward Celestia. She explicitly says she doesn't have ill will anymore, which wouldn't immediately stand out, but on a second read would explain why she later tried to work toward Celestia's benefit and why her wings had started to glitter a bit.
Now more to the question of exactly who this is. I've already said it's Chrysalis, and the "royal" line horizon picks out is the spot where it's most bluntly said. The fact that she's working alone supports this, too. Yes, she could be some isolated low-ranking changeling, one that missed all the goings-on because she was in the human world or something, but the "royal" and the aloneness together point toward it being Chrysalis post-Thorax.
Now, because it's Chrysalis, Sunset clearly hasn't been a changeling all along, but even if this weren't Chrysalis, she explicitly says she's never been through the mirror. Bachiavellian asks how she learned as much as she did about Sunset, and Chrysalis says that directly: that she'd snuck around Twilight's castle enough to eavesdrop. She doesn't actually know that much, but she thinks it isn't necessary.
So once Chrysalis learns enough about her, just think about it. This is the perfect crime. Chrysalis doesn't have anywhere to stash the real Sunset away under guard, and she hasn't been able (or hasn't wanted to) go through the mirror to do it anyway. Besides, she knows she might not have any magic there. But Sunset never comes through. There is the one EqG short where she did briefly, but Chrysalis may be unaware of that. Chrysalis can impersonate Sunset. Celestia loves Sunset and has very powerful love, which makes it an ideal feeding scenario for her. The real Sunset is exceedingly unlikely to show up and blow her cover. Pretty much everyone else who knows Sunset lives in Ponyville, so Chrysalis is unlikely to encounter anyone in Canterlot who will blow her cover (this is another reason why the guard surprises her). Chrysalis actually goes through these criteria at the same spot where she says she never went through the mirror. She could keep up this deception for a long time.
However, it breaks down. Celestia feels so much guilt about Sunset, and it's part and parcel of her love, so Chrysalis can't help eating that too, and it's unpalatable. Not only can't she digest it, but it's so strong that it makes her take on those feelings of guilt as well. That compounds her general non-aggression toward Celestia into making Chrysalis feel bad about what she's doing. So she has two choices.
She can try to assuage Celestia's guilt and make her a viable food source again, or she can make a hasty exit. At first, she does the former, but it's immediately apparent that it's never going to work. Celestia's never going to lose that guilt. Chrysalis then does the latter, but she still attempts to patch things up.
This is the one thing Aragon didn't catch in response to horizon's question about why Chrysalis would take the risk of promising that Sunset would write. Chrysalis is teetering on the edge between those two choices, and promising to write is a desperate attempt to make Celestia feel better, but as soon as she says it, she knows she doesn't want to keep that up. So she offers to let Celestia read the journal because she's reasonably sure Twilight and the real Sunset wouldn't mind, and that way Celestia can keep up with Sunset again. Originally, Chrysalis had hoped Celestia would be an ongoing food source, and the offer of letters and statements that she didn't blame Celestia were a last-ditch effort to salvage that.
horizon's right: this is a huge risk. She wouldn't have taken it if she felt her long-term plan would work, but it's fallen through, so only now is Aragon correct that Chrysalis doesn't care if she's exposed. It's over anyway. She only needs to buy enough time to get away, but even then, she wants to do so in a way that helps Celestia heal, and she states this outright in wishing Celestia would accept her forgiveness so she could leave. Why? It goes back to Chrysalis having generally lost her aggression toward Celestia, plus Chrysalis being forced to feel the guilt she's ingested.
Then at the end, even purged of her guilt, Chrysalis still has a fleeting moment of wanting to help someone and wishing Celestia well.
Any advice on where the sweet spot is at getting all that across better without just dumping explanations?
>>Pascoite
One thing to fix the confusion at the end would simply be to have at least a male pony find her in the alley. Then at least moving from "him" to "her" would only be the Sunset/Celestia/Chyrsalis options, and not also the one laying out the bread.
E.g. Maybe something like this:
When I originally read that, I thought that the mare was giving bread, and Celestia had already fed her (like snacks at the meeting or something) so this would at least clear up some of that.
As for my earlier comment about the pacing in the office scene... That was a play-by-play as I read, of course, so doesn't stand out too bad in a normal read through. The main thing there might be to just accelerate the action a bit. It felt like a lot of internal thoughts for "sunset" with very little happening externally. Perhaps pick out a few key "moments" you want in that scene and fine-tune the wording of those to carry the emotional/internal weight, instead of relying as much on "building" her panic and worry with a lot of smaller thoughts/reactions.
One thing to fix the confusion at the end would simply be to have at least a male pony find her in the alley. Then at least moving from "him" to "her" would only be the Sunset/Celestia/Chyrsalis options, and not also the one laying out the bread.
E.g. Maybe something like this:
But I didn’t needherhis bread.She’d already fed me [the moment he decided to give it.]
When I originally read that, I thought that the mare was giving bread, and Celestia had already fed her (like snacks at the meeting or something) so this would at least clear up some of that.
As for my earlier comment about the pacing in the office scene... That was a play-by-play as I read, of course, so doesn't stand out too bad in a normal read through. The main thing there might be to just accelerate the action a bit. It felt like a lot of internal thoughts for "sunset" with very little happening externally. Perhaps pick out a few key "moments" you want in that scene and fine-tune the wording of those to carry the emotional/internal weight, instead of relying as much on "building" her panic and worry with a lot of smaller thoughts/reactions.
>>Pascoite
Briefly, a couple things on your extended questions:
This feels to me like a rather non-intuitive approach to take toward changeling digestion. (After all, eating love doesn't make them more loving.) I think you're going to need to explicitly exposit this bit, in particular. If it was explicit (and sufficiently lampshaded), though, it probably would have settled a lot of my confusion.
This may suggest you need an earlier reveal — so that we're not trying to interpret the climax of your major character arc in hindsight, rather actually understanding what the significance of the choice is as she makes it.
Keep in mind that this change of heart, in your source text as written, takes place in the span of a single ellipsis:
I don't think I could have interpreted that ellipsis as a change of heart without being a mind-reader. I really think you'd need to split those two lines into separate paragraphs, and steep the story in Chrysalis' mind-state for a while in between them, in order to give that pause anything like the significance it deserves.
Hope that helps.
Briefly, a couple things on your extended questions:
Not only can't she digest it, but it's so strong that it makes her take on those feelings of guilt as well. That compounds her general non-aggression toward Celestia into making Chrysalis feel bad about what she's doing.
This feels to me like a rather non-intuitive approach to take toward changeling digestion. (After all, eating love doesn't make them more loving.) I think you're going to need to explicitly exposit this bit, in particular. If it was explicit (and sufficiently lampshaded), though, it probably would have settled a lot of my confusion.
So she has two choices.
She can try to assuage Celestia's guilt and make her a viable food source again, or she can make a hasty exit. At first, she does the former, but it's immediately apparent that it's never going to work. Celestia's never going to lose that guilt. Chrysalis then does the latter, but she still attempts to patch things up.
This may suggest you need an earlier reveal — so that we're not trying to interpret the climax of your major character arc in hindsight, rather actually understanding what the significance of the choice is as she makes it.
Chrysalis is teetering on the edge between those two choices, and promising to write is a desperate attempt to make Celestia feel better, but as soon as she says it, she knows she doesn't want to keep that up … (etc)
Keep in mind that this change of heart, in your source text as written, takes place in the span of a single ellipsis:
“I’ll write to you. I promise. Or… it’s alright with me if Twilight shares the journal with you. Then you can keep up.”
I don't think I could have interpreted that ellipsis as a change of heart without being a mind-reader. I really think you'd need to split those two lines into separate paragraphs, and steep the story in Chrysalis' mind-state for a while in between them, in order to give that pause anything like the significance it deserves.
Hope that helps.
>>Pascoite
I agree with Horizon -- this is pretty much impossible to guess from the story alone. There's too much information here that you want to convey, especially if you're being obscure.
To be completely honest? I think that the best way to make this story work is to simplify and streamline it. You have either a carefully constructed story with a lot of little details -- changelings can't eat guilt, Chrysalis is alone and has been working by herself for so long she doens't even feel resentment anymore, so she tries to help Celestia, etc -- or a streamlined, plot-twisty story that looks like one thing and then ends up being another.
Certain elements are simply too unintuitive to keep them while delaying the twist. If you want to really explain these things, the ones that the reader won't catch up immediately, then you need to explain them completely. Nobody's really going to understand all this from just a hint and a small pause in Sunset's dialogue.
A way to do it, I suppose, would be to wait till the end of the story -- once the identity of Chrysalis is revealed -- and then explain everything in a way that hopefully doesn't feel too exposition-heavy. But, to be completely honest, that's inelegant. You would manage to make the story very enjoyable on a re-read, as readers would be able to pick up on all the tiny details and bits of foreshadowing... but that's a risky move, and it sacrifices the first readthrough.
I think the best you can do is to eliminate anything that's not essential to the story. That way, you make the road to the plot twist much faster, and much more satisfying for the reader. Strike out (or just don't address) elements that aren't necessarily tackled by the main plot, as well as anything that makes the story too hard to write or to get.
I'd say everything related to Chrysalis' newfound sympathy for Celestia should go out, with the guilt thing staying for plot reasons. Details about how Chrysalis is alone and her wings shine and all that stuff, those you can keep, because otherwise you run into a plot hole. I'm wondering if you should expand the bit about Chrysalis sneaking into Twilight's castle to gather intel regarding Sunset -- it IS addressed in the story, but it's a small line, and it's easy to skip (I myself missed it at first! But I double-checked, thankfully).
The rest... Well, you know the story better than me, so you can probably judge yourself. This story doesn't quite drag, but it gets overencumbered with details. Less is more, yo.
(Also, I missed that this was Chrysalis -- I think that, by the time you reveal she's a changeling, there's nothing keeping you from outright stating her identity in a much more explicit way. That's up to you, because other people did get it, so I don't know. I think it would add to the story, however.)
So yeah, eliminate anything you feel is too complicated to convey in an obscure way. I think a shorter, less detailed, tighter story would be much better, and would have much stronger a punch.
Otherwise, you'll have to balance a lot of stuff, and you'll have to give away the twist too soon. The main conflict -- "Sunset" talking to Celestia and reacting weirdly, running away, revealing herself to be Chrysalis -- is strong, but if you add too much glitter to it, you take away a big part of its strength.
God, I find it actually rather difficult to leave a review here without previewing the comment -- I tend to ramble and forget the points I was supposed to make. Anyway, like with Toxikjoghurt: I liked this story and I think it can be polished to a state where I like it even more, so if you need an editor (or would like more detailed feedback with a GDocs and all that shit) I'm all up for it, hit me up on Discord. If not, that's my two bits in a nutshell, really.
Here's hoping that helped!
Chrysalis is teetering on the edge between those two choices, and promising to write is a desperate attempt to make Celestia feel better, but as soon as she says it, she knows she doesn't want to keep that up. [...]
I agree with Horizon -- this is pretty much impossible to guess from the story alone. There's too much information here that you want to convey, especially if you're being obscure.
To be completely honest? I think that the best way to make this story work is to simplify and streamline it. You have either a carefully constructed story with a lot of little details -- changelings can't eat guilt, Chrysalis is alone and has been working by herself for so long she doens't even feel resentment anymore, so she tries to help Celestia, etc -- or a streamlined, plot-twisty story that looks like one thing and then ends up being another.
Certain elements are simply too unintuitive to keep them while delaying the twist. If you want to really explain these things, the ones that the reader won't catch up immediately, then you need to explain them completely. Nobody's really going to understand all this from just a hint and a small pause in Sunset's dialogue.
A way to do it, I suppose, would be to wait till the end of the story -- once the identity of Chrysalis is revealed -- and then explain everything in a way that hopefully doesn't feel too exposition-heavy. But, to be completely honest, that's inelegant. You would manage to make the story very enjoyable on a re-read, as readers would be able to pick up on all the tiny details and bits of foreshadowing... but that's a risky move, and it sacrifices the first readthrough.
I think the best you can do is to eliminate anything that's not essential to the story. That way, you make the road to the plot twist much faster, and much more satisfying for the reader. Strike out (or just don't address) elements that aren't necessarily tackled by the main plot, as well as anything that makes the story too hard to write or to get.
I'd say everything related to Chrysalis' newfound sympathy for Celestia should go out, with the guilt thing staying for plot reasons. Details about how Chrysalis is alone and her wings shine and all that stuff, those you can keep, because otherwise you run into a plot hole. I'm wondering if you should expand the bit about Chrysalis sneaking into Twilight's castle to gather intel regarding Sunset -- it IS addressed in the story, but it's a small line, and it's easy to skip (I myself missed it at first! But I double-checked, thankfully).
The rest... Well, you know the story better than me, so you can probably judge yourself. This story doesn't quite drag, but it gets overencumbered with details. Less is more, yo.
(Also, I missed that this was Chrysalis -- I think that, by the time you reveal she's a changeling, there's nothing keeping you from outright stating her identity in a much more explicit way. That's up to you, because other people did get it, so I don't know. I think it would add to the story, however.)
So yeah, eliminate anything you feel is too complicated to convey in an obscure way. I think a shorter, less detailed, tighter story would be much better, and would have much stronger a punch.
Otherwise, you'll have to balance a lot of stuff, and you'll have to give away the twist too soon. The main conflict -- "Sunset" talking to Celestia and reacting weirdly, running away, revealing herself to be Chrysalis -- is strong, but if you add too much glitter to it, you take away a big part of its strength.
God, I find it actually rather difficult to leave a review here without previewing the comment -- I tend to ramble and forget the points I was supposed to make. Anyway, like with Toxikjoghurt: I liked this story and I think it can be polished to a state where I like it even more, so if you need an editor (or would like more detailed feedback with a GDocs and all that shit) I'm all up for it, hit me up on Discord. If not, that's my two bits in a nutshell, really.
Here's hoping that helped!
>>horizon
I was reading this comment and wondered how there was a story I hadn't read. Then I remembered when I read your story I didn't get the twist, so it was a completely different story when I read it.
I should probably reread it to bring my count to thirty-seven.
I was reading this comment and wondered how there was a story I hadn't read. Then I remembered when I read your story I didn't get the twist, so it was a completely different story when I read it.
I should probably reread it to bring my count to thirty-seven.
>>horizon
One small detailed difference: eating love doesn't make them feel loving, because the love itself is the food. It's other emotions attached and intertwined with the love that alter the flavor, and if they're strong enough, start to alter the eater's emotions.
>>Xepher
>>horizon
>>Aragon
Thanks for your additional feedback. This is going to be more complicated than I thought. Might be some time before this story surfaces again.
One small detailed difference: eating love doesn't make them feel loving, because the love itself is the food. It's other emotions attached and intertwined with the love that alter the flavor, and if they're strong enough, start to alter the eater's emotions.
>>Xepher
>>horizon
>>Aragon
Thanks for your additional feedback. This is going to be more complicated than I thought. Might be some time before this story surfaces again.