This isn't the place for an argument about AI art, but: Thank you for the thought, although I won't be threadmarking this or any other AI creations due to personal ethical objections.
(As an aside, the coat color in #2 is almost right, but Voice's mane is a light red at the moment and she's solely a unicorn. Given her tendency to shapeshift, though, I'll acknowledge there's more freedom there than usual, especially if Sunset shows signs of liking it.)
I was not expecting my comment to get threadmarked this morning...
I removed my other comments from there because, at least by personal preference, I'd rather omakes only contain the actual relevant comment and not other thoughts about the story.
Any idea if it's okay to re-post those now that they're no longer in the original post, or can I not re-post content I've removed from another post?
I don't mind if you do in this case, and thanks! I actually felt a bit guilty over threadmarking that one, but didn't want to disappoint by taking it away, so you solved the problem for me.
Yeah... Voice Definitely knows about that letter. Unsurprisingly at that, considering that - as far as I know - using acronym's or initialism does not in fact prevent Eldritch beings from being aware of any reference too themselves, despite what anyone may say to comfort themselves in any reality that these beings are known to factually exist.
I'll also add three further reasons she probably noticed:
1, She can set up a perception filter and they were only able to remain aware of where she was for a few minutes (though their ability to remember that she exists is impressive). There's a good chance she was reading over the agent's shoulder the whole time.
2, Her specific domain (or title, not sure there's a difference for eldritch beings) is the Voice of Imperceptible Dreams and she's interested in the "story" of events around her. So, something that's literally so story relevant it gets written verbatim onscreen is the definition of story-relevant and she'd be there to "read" it with us. It further falls in her domain by being a secret letter, possibly meaning the Imperceptible part is relevant too.
3, We are technically "outsiders" also spying on their lives. So it's likely that it's even more noticeable up close than over here across the dimensional gap, and also possible that, in-world, VOID is the entity transcribing it so we can read it too.
Other comments originally from my now-threadmarked post (thought I'd sweep that up a little so you only read my brain-gurgling when you want to):
even though Flighty knew the theory, and by their written policies, high scores on the written test should have been enough to compensate for an automatic failing grade on the practical.
earning a pittance for her efforts under her prior employer, whom Flighty would only reluctantly douse if Accord was on fire — and even then, Flighty would have to think about it first.
Flighty had only needed to hear one horrifying campfire story about Changeling foalnappers before perpetually keeping a poker warmed in a brazier sounded like a good idea. She didn't care if they weren't real; the very idea was still scary, and Flighty lived alone.
And that more than vaguely concerns me. I'm guessing she knows about the SMILE report, though, and is just getting an alternate anchor?
I'd be more than happy with our new acquaintance finding herself with a feathery surprise of her own. I imagine her self-esteem issues would make sudden princesshood quite amusing. Well, that and Sunset would have an immortal peer. Y'know, before Twilight also goes foomp.
Fair. I personally won't use it, but I'll grudgingly accept it myself because in that case someone DID put a thing together and I've now got a visual reference. (Taylor Varga being an example there, though some viewers also drew art too.)
That said, AI art is absolutely a horrendous mess, and, while it (for varying degrees of quality) lets you do something better than putting together stock shapes in a Powerpoint if you have no clue how to draw, it's doing so off the illegally (I couldn't make this up if I tried) stolen art and effort of other people.
It's not like AI actually learns. What you actually get out is a nonlinear average of the original artwork, to the point that several models have seen so many Getty Images photos that they sometimes add their own watermarks. I will add that those watermarks are only on the preview images that have not been purchased. Or that you can usually convince a model to produce, verbatim, some of the art that was used to make the model. This technique is sometimes used to export the data so someone else can then steal the AI, ironically.
The usage of most AI art generators is also generally for (and they're usually trained on) Rule 34 stuff, so there's that too. I've heard that it's hard to make them produce something actually PG in some cases, and they're usually asked to produce something "in the style of" an artist rather than actually commission the artist the model is cribbing from, because it was trained on their own artwork without their permission.
(Copyright is absolutely messed up, too, but this is one case where I actually support it. Which makes it no surprise that this is a also a category that for once no one is bothering to enforce, to the point that the AI companies know they can get away with it. Now, fun fact, music AIs are very careful to use public domain data. Turns out that other giant companies with a stake rather than a bunch of low-paid (usually) artists can get copyright actually enforced.)
I imagine Voice's various names are akin to either blind men describing an elephant or multiple people describing a tree from different viewpoints.
I wonder then if Voice has a name as such or only a bunch of variations of that spiky thing over there.
I was going to ask if Voice has a name as ponies understand it, but given prescient pony parents naming foals well ahead of their name being a description of who they have become... yes, she very much does.
I've got to wonder if some ponies request a name change if they've got a particularly worrying name... and if it would help. =)
Awesome work. Looking forward to more horror. Also, Sunset is confused. She can enchant, she is an undying magic pony. Just enchant herself to be stronger and harder. She wont die and is the most suitable pony to study self sustaining magic enhancements.
The sense I got from the summoning scene was that Trespasser language just sort of works that way, with each name having dozens of valid translations nestled in its nuances.
IMO Pinkie Pie can be argued to prove the thing about Ponies not being limited to their tribe's kind of magic,, depending on how you look at things: Twilight tries to study Pinkie but can't recognize what's happening with her, because, rather than using normal Earth Pony magic, she's unknowingly using some other kind of magic no one else knows. Chaos magic, maybe?
not to start a fight, but AI training is theft only as much as a human artist learning how to draw by looking at other artist's work for reference is theft.
Alright, I'm going to ask that the AI art discussion not continue here since it looks like it's going to escalate after all. I'm sure there's a thread somewhere on SV if you want to @ each other or something.
EDIT: Rgal, you're forgiven since it was posted like 10 seconds after I did, but let's not continue it more than that.
not to start a fight, but AI training is theft only as much as a human artist learning how to draw by looking at other artist's work for reference is theft.
Oh dear, this aversion seems to come from a place deeply visceral.
I fear that my statement of "[not having something like a mental illness due to the trauma]" might have been false.
Time will tell if this runs any deeper than an avoidance and phobia adaptation.
But...
A sufficient expression of their Special Talent and Harmony that aided both themselves and others, enhanced by suitable concentrations of magic and cresting emotions, was not something that could be forced.
It seems that there is great potential due to this: like how life rapidly reclaims a burned forest due to the increased soil quality, these lows may serve to augment their highs.
The sense I got from the summoning scene was that Trespasser language just sort of works that way, with each name having dozens of valid translations nestled in its nuances.
AN: Beta-read by @ensou. I am absolutely thrilled to report that we now have canon fanart for Flighty Flame, by the very talented @Coshiua!
Sunset Shimmer
As seemed to be the going trend for the last few days, my good mood didn't last long once I stopped interacting with a pony I liked. Celestia was coincidentally touring unspecified parts of Canterlot proper, and the servant whom I questioned didn't know where. I knew from past experience that trying to scry for Celestia's location was an exercise in self-inflicted blindness; it could tell me general direction, but trying for more precise than that would be akin to staring directly at the Sun for sustained periods of time. Not a good idea and liable to leave me laying with a headache for the rest of the day.
She'd promised that I was allowed to accompany her indefinitely, though, so I wasn't going to let myself be stopped just because finding her would be difficult. If magic wasn't the answer to a problem, the pony responsible wasn't using it properly.
...I might be stopped by other factors, though. It suddenly occurred to me that Celestia was always the subject of a great deal of gawking — mostly from tourists rather than Canterlot natives — whenever Celestia did these little walkarounds to see the city. Should I show up, some of that attention would flip to me, and the only cordon between me and them would be a couple guards. Sheer distance had proven an adequate barrier back in Day Court, but that wouldn't work in this case.
I huffed, annoyed, and went to find Cadance instead. I should work on acclimating to my improved magic-slash-emotional sense, but not to the extent of exposing myself to that many ponies all at once. Especially since, rather than walking, I kept finding myself breaking out into a quick jog. The aftereffects of Flighty's excitement still hadn't faded, it seemed.
I'd expected Cadance to be wasting time with a romance novel back in her bedroom; she often was. Not this time. Similarly, she wasn't in any of her other hiding spots, such as library nooks or wedged beside windows looking out over the city.
I finally had to resort to asking a Guard where she'd gotten off to. The answer should have been predictable, but at the same time...
"Why here?" I asked, wandering into one of my least favorite places in the castle: the menagerie section of Canterlot Castle's ornamental gardens.
On some days, the scents of the menagerie always made me feel a little nauseous. Thankfully, Celestia seemed to be aware of my distaste and usually held any outdoor lessons in portions without quite so many lesser creatures. Today was not one of the better days; I already felt sick as I approached.
Cadance was not so considerate. She wasn't even sitting atop one of the various stone seats or benches along the way. Admittedly, I knew from experience that those things were uncomfortable, but a photo of her sprawled in the dirt would be quite scandalous. She hadn't even brought a book, and with her looking my way, I couldn't tell what had drawn her attention.
…She did know the royal gardens weren't for eating, right? The kitchens had their own discreet herb and edible flower bed, but those weren't something somepony could stumble across by accident. I'd thought Cadance had learned that within the first few days at the castle.
"Hello to you too, Sunset," Cadance said dryly. "How is your day going? Auntie was a bit worried by your absence at lunch, and had to send somepony to investigate; you could have sent word."
I idly wondered why Cadance never called her Auntia. It seemed like the sort of nickname Celestia would like. Still, I would admit I was a bit irked by Cadance's tone.
"Slightly worse now that you're in it," I sniped, moving to sit atop one of closest seats since she wasn't bothering.
The insult didn't have the expected response, because it seemed like nopony in my life wanted to be consistent these days. Where once she would have glared back or shied away, now Cadance instead grinned.
"Only slightly?" she teased. "That is an improvement. So, what brings you here, Sunset?"
Annoyance had to wait in line behind mild amusement. She was right; barely any time had passed and her presence had gone from utterly loathed to already vaguely tolerable, if only just. That might change if she went back to being lazy and gave me an excuse to hate her again, though. It wasn't like I needed her if I was to learn the Chain of Knowledge; Twilight was more fun to teach and and just as good at learning as a mare about three times her age.
"I asked first," I shot back.
Cadance opened her mouth, paused, and visibly changed what she was going to say. Good.
"I got bored of assembling love webs via levitation without anypony to show them to," she admitted.
And there's that expected laziness. I shouldn't be disappointed, I knew, but she could have asked me for new activities if she was getting bored with the old ones.
"So," she said a few seconds later, "I thought I'd come here and see if I could get in touch with my inner earth pony. It's… going?"
My disappointment was temporarily placed on hold. Her avoidance still wasn't stellar, but trying to practice something else was better than nothing at all.
"Going," I said flatly.
"Going," she agreed. "Not well or poorly, it just is. I think I've gotten the hang of making plants a little healthier and more vibrant, especially if they're roses, tulips, lilies, or other flowers I associate with love. So that's pretty good, but on the other hoof…"
She waved one hoof at a distant tree where a trio of shiny silver squirrels warily watched us.
"I think these animals are–" Cadance hesitated, glanced at an eavesdropping bluebird, and clearly changed what she was going to say. "Scared. They wouldn't even approach when I offered food."
I rolled my eyes. She could have just asked me.
"They're trained not to," I explained, refraining from adding you idiot. "Creatures stolen from Celestia's gardens used to be a favorite of trappers selling to unscrupulous collectors, and food or sympathetic-seeming earth ponies were common lures. I don't think anypony has tried that since before this bunch was born, but I doubt policy ever changed as far as training them goes. Celestia has a tendency of bringing back animals rescued from such collectors, too."
"Trained how?" Cadance questioned.
I stopped and blinked. I didn't actually know.
"I don't suppose you want to weigh in on this?" I halfheartedly called to a nearby woodlark.
A burst of infuriated tweeting made it quite clear that, no, she was staying where she was, thank you very much, and move further away from her nest before somepony gets hurt. I raised an eyebrow, but obligingly moved a few extra meters away and to a new chair. Once I was settled back in, I returned my attention to a faintly baffled Cadance.
"Have you considered that they don't get many ponies through here," I drawled, "most of those who do appear are noble twits or rambunctious schoolfoals, and there aren't exactly an abundance of hiding places for them to put their nests? It's not a surprise they aren't happy that either of us is here."
Cadance blinked rapidly and shook her head.
"How did you get all that from a bunch of tweeting?"
For a moment, I wondered if I might be subconsciously tapping into my earth pony magic. The moment passed. Animals had tones, same as ponies, and I'd always been able to notice; Cadance was just unobservant.
"How did you not?" I scoffed. "They're never subtle about their dislikes."
I didn't really like animals, but I didn't hate them, either. Outside threat displays, they were usually honest about how they felt. Often incredible little irritants who were unwilling to acknowledge when they were outmatched, but otherwise honest.
"That sounded the exact same as every other chirp!" Cadance protested.
"Have you considered that it might sound the same to you because they don't like you, and are therefore always screaming for you to go away?" I couldn't resist asking.
I meant to keep sniping at her, but stopped and blinked as a thought struck like a knife. Animals hid when they were cautious, but pretended to be angry when they were terrified. That woodlark hadn't exactly been feeling very civil.
"They are scared," I realized.
Traces of hurt vanished from Cadance's features and were replaced with slight smugness.
"Oh look, there must be an echo," Cadance commented.
I huffed and glared at her.
"Shut up," I snapped. "I'd understand them being wary or annoyed, but they're acting like they're scared of us. Here. In Canterlot Castle, one of the safest places on the planet."
I'd met the gardener in charge of this section, Greenhooves, and he certainly wouldn't be responsible for the fear. The only things that old stallion was willing to hurt were parasprites whenever somebeing tried to smuggle them in as part of (futile) attempts at ruining the gardens and humiliatiating Celestia. Somepony else was responsible. Possibly whichever somepony was responsible for ensuring that ponies didn't try to take animals home with them. If they told horror stories and didn't make it clear that it was only visitors who needed to be avoided, I imagined the reaction would look something like this.
"...Please don't tell me you're going to go charging off to interrogate the servants," said an uneasy Cadance.
I paused with one hoof in the air, already poised to do exactly that.
"Why not?" I demanded. "You know Celestia already has too much on her plate."
Plus, I had a reputation for being mean and could easily leverage that into 'terrifying.' If ponies were scaring Celestia's menagerie, or turning a blind eye to ponies who did, everypony involved deserved to be scared in return.
Cadance took an alicorn-sized deep breath.
"It will take her less time to sort out whatever this is than it would be to approve new staff after you terrify somepony into fleeing Canterlot," she exaggerated.
"Oh, come on," I scoffed. "Unless they're guilty, I would at the worst scare somepony into taking a vacation. Either they're guilty of negligence by not noticing, or guilty of actually harming the creatures they're supposed to be caring for in the first place."
Cadance's fake calm wavered. Unfortunately, it switched to a thoughtful visage before I could see whatever emotion laid underneath it.
"Maybe the animals are afraid because ponies keep coming in and terrorizing their favorite gardeners?" she tried.
The worst part was that I couldn't guarantee she was wrong. I huffed unhappily and settled back down. Or failed to, at least. Irked, I dragged water from the air, added some pegasus magic, shook until the mass started looking vaguely white, and settled atop the (admittedly slightly sodden) cloud. Being a little damp was preferable to sitting atop solid stone.
Cadance's eyebrows shot up at the display. I smirked back at her before I remembered the situation and returned to a glare.
"Fine," I snapped. "Whatever. So earth pony magic is a bust. You could have asked me if you needed more unicorn magic exercises instead of just giving up. Again."
Cadance's uncharacteristic shell cracked properly, and the young mare finally started to glare at me.
"I was trying to be considerate by not interrupting your playdate," she bit out. "You know, acknowledging the feelings of others? You should try it sometime."
"It wasn't a–" I reflexively started, then stopped.
If Celestia had arranged for me to meet Flighty like I so strongly suspected, then yes, it could indeed qualify as a 'playdate.' I might be irked by the term, but still had to concede that it technically wasn't incorrect.
"Whatever," I grumbled, glowering to warn Cadance not to capitalize on my mistake. "If you've already advanced to the point of levitating 'webs,' I'll concede you were making excellent progress. You still have a lot of catching up to do, though, so that's no reason to stop."
Cadance closed her eyes, took another deep breath, and visibly forced her anger away. I would have to keep provoking her to keep her honest. When she opened her eyes again, it was clear she'd embraced a different, more pathetic emotion.
"I practiced for five hours, or maybe six of you count lunch," Cadance whined. "The standard recommendation for studying a specific subject is one hour per subject per day, and that's the 'very few ponies actually do this, but they say they do, so our data is skewed' recommendation. Magic, unicorn magic, is your Special Talent, not mine; I can't do it all day, every day."
This Cadance was more familiar. Giving up just when things got a little difficult. It was tempting to abandon her altogether if she wanted to be lazy, but it would be even more infuriating to see her acting like this on a regular basis. I knew she could do better.
"Oh, for Harmony's sake," I hissed. "Your Special Talent is a type of magic, you idiot. If you're getting bored under these circumstances, it means we need to try something else."
On impulse, I snatched off my pendant, tossed it toward Cadance, and immediately regretted it. The nausea abruptly got much, much worse, all at once. I'd apparently been relying on the warmth substituting for Celestia's presence much more than I realized. I gagged and revised my estimate of why today might be a 'bad day' to be in the gardens. Now it wasn't just the smells, but backlash from the fear of the animals, too.
"Never mind, I need that after all," I said, and telekinetically snatched it back from Cadance's grasping wing.
Irritation flashed across Cadance's features, but one look at my face seemed to tell her that something was amiss. She leaned back, appearing faintly worried.
"Are you okay?"
"My new sense comes with added symptoms of sickness," I snapped. "What do you think?"
I shuddered again and started jogging toward the exit, nausea seemingly worse now that I knew what it was from. Thankfully, Cadance took the hint and scrambled up to follow after me.
"So—what was with the pendant throwing?" Cadance ventured.
I stayed silent until the nausea started to abate a bit, the creatures of Celestia's menagerie apparently feeling reassured by our impending departure.
"Celestia charged it with feigned love," I explained. "I was hoping that knowing you could power magical items with love might act as suitable encouragement for honing your control. I mean, you can bestow magical objects supercharged by your Special Talent to the ponies you love. That seems right up your alley."
As I'd guessed, Cadance did look near-instantly enamored with the thought. Briefly. Her expression went strange a few seconds later.
"Feigned love," Cadance said oddly.
I snorted. Not this again. Still, I snapped a privacy spell centered on us just in case.
"Celestia made it, but I've seen her force emotions for the purposes of spellcasting multiple times. The scope of the project she's pursuing makes it clear that she expects to be able to keep this up for literal years spent charging it, and that's just not going to happen. I've seen how she treats her 'beloved little ponies,' and that isn't love; the moment she stops being able to pretend is the moment the whole work will break down."
Hopefully, it wouldn't do so explosively. Or, really, I didn't need to hope. Celestia wouldn't be alive if she was willing to take dumb risks like that.
"I would feel jealous over you getting a hornmade item with enough magic to blow up a city," Cadance started slowly.
Too slowly. It gave me an opening to smugly interrupt.
"Actually, I expect it'll be closer to an entire region if she was actually able to finish. She obviously won't, though."
"Right," Cadance sighed. "I'm not jealous, though, because you clearly need it."
My nostrils flared. A supercharged Alicorn-enchanted artifact to protect my mind would be a nice bonus that could finish what Voice had started, but it wasn't like I needed it. It was just a good precaution.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Cadance rushed ahead of me to block my path, pivoted, and placed one hoof on my shoulder. I immediately shrugged her off, glaring. She didn't glare back, though; instead, the idiot was smiling at me.
"That as the Princess of Love, I am uniquely qualified to tell you that Celestia does love you," she earnestly insisted. "She wouldn't just adopt anypony, remember? She's had plenty of ponies whom it would have been advantageous for her to 'adopt,' and apart from those formalities early in her reign that were basically forced upon her by the political situation, she never has."
I didn't humor the claim for even a second. I knew better by now; she never had time for me until I'd summoned Voice and became immortal. Instinct might be encouraging her to view the new immortal as cute and in need of guidance or something similar, but that wasn't love.
"Remind me again how much experience you have, oh teenage princess? Because I think it's safe to say your minimal experience is failing you."
Cadance winced and slumped, smile fading.
"Yeah, I didn't think that would work," she admitted. "Hypothetically speaking, if she was pretending — which she isn't — how long do you think it would take her to be unable to muster up these 'feigned feelings' you seem to think she's using?"
It was a trap, I could tell. I doubted she could maintain it for more than a week, but even if she'd let some skills atrophy, Celestia remained the greatest spellcaster alive. She might pull out some tricks to surprise me.
"I doubt we'll make it to two weeks, but she is an alicorn," I acknowledged. "She might have some tricks to filter out doubt and last longer than she might otherwise."
"Then we'll make a bet," Cadance insisted. "Let's say — actually, when is your introduction?"
I narrowed my eyes.
"I'm not sure yet," I said slowly, "but probably about twenty-four days from now."
Cadance flinched.
"That long?" she balked.
"It's symbolic and gives ponies enough time to put it on their schedules," I summarized. "Even then, that's not much time for Flighty Flame to finish my introductory outfit."
I chose not to mention that said outfit was going to be a deliberate nod to Celestia's regalia. Celestia was the only pony in such jewelry when Cadance was formally crowned; Cadance had just been wearing a dress, crown, and a few minor accessories. She'd long since outgrown all those pieces.
…Actually, that might be a problem for us, too. I was still a growing mare, and would only grow more as time went on. In hindsight, we'd gotten carried away and acted like my current measurements were what I would always be like, rather than dramatically growing as I got older and more after I ascended. Self-sizing enchantments seldom played nice with neighbors. We might be able to get some leeway via overlapping sections that could be gently folded outward as I grew, but that would only last me for a mortal mare's growth. Not once I ascended. At least Flighty would likely be reassured by knowing I would have to commission her again later anyway, so there was no point getting too torn up over my introductory apparel.
"Auntie…" Cadance groaned, before sighing. "She makes it absolutely impossible to plot behind her for her own good, you know?"
I didn't know what Cadance thought she would have accomplished, but it was enjoyable to know that Celestia had apparently foiled her without even trying.
"She's over a thousand years old; why does this surprise you? She was foiling better ponies than you since before you were born."
Cadance huffed and hung her head.
"Whatever," she grumbled. "Here's my bet: three days before your adoption is announced, she won't only still be going strong, but she'll be doing just as well as — last night? Last night. If you win and she can't keep it up due to a lack of genuine love, and you didn't deliberately sabotage her just to win this bet, I'll — I don't know, do you three favors of your choice or something, including humiliating ones that would damage my image as princess."
My eyebrows shot up. I wouldn't use them for such a petty purpose, tempting though it might be; even if I would love to see Cadance humbled–
…At least, I thought I did? I wasn't even sure anymore. Still, as one of Equestria's princesses, ponies were supposed to be able to trust her. I wouldn't undermine that reputation, especially since I would eventually benefit from it, too.
"And if you win?" I asked warily.
"I get nothing," she said blandly.
My brow furrowed.
"That isn't how gambling works. What's even the point of that?"
"To make sure you actually think about it," she insisted, huffing. "She's literally using, to quote you, 'one of the most powerful magics known to ponykind,' for your benefit, and you still can't believe she's being sincere."
For just a moment, I did start to doubt my own conclusions in the face of Cadance's certainty. That moment passed. I couldn't count the number of times I'd seen Celestia feign respect, kindness, approval in order to manipulate ponies, sometimes even for ones she actually disliked. This was just more of the same.
"There's literally no downsides to me agreeing, so whatever, sure," I said dismissively. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be so juvenile as to use my favors on humiliating you. Maybe to get you to take your lessons seriously."
Cadance sighed.
"Five hours is more than most ponies even have the magic to manage," she complained. "But fine, let's just go find something expendable for us to practice on. You're right, I do want to make Twilight a trinket or few. Just remember what I said, please? I'm certain that she does love you, and I hope you can see that soon."
I scoffed and pointedly wound around Cadance to continue on my way.
1. Man, Sunset really was gonna end a whole mare's career over her concerns about the health and wellbeing of several animals. Fluttershy would be proud.
2. This really illustrates how much her tutors fucked her up. Like, she apparently has always been able to feel out the emotions and meaning from animals and other ponies like this, but she never felt comfortable asking anypony about it due to the abuse.
1. Man, Sunset really was gonna end a whole mare's career over her concerns about the health and wellbeing of several animals. Fluttershy would be proud.
They're Princess Celestia's animals; an attack on them is an attack aimed at her support. It's not as though Sunset actually likes them or anything, idiot.
It seems like a good bit of Sunset's mental state relies upon the assumption that Celestia doesn't love her, probably stemming from the mentality that her tutors forced on her that she needed to earn Celestia's love.
In a weird way, I think it worked as a kind of hope for things getting better, something she could strive towards, that Celestia not ever having time for her or her putting the country first over Sunset could be something she could change. If Celestia has loved her all along, then this is the best she'll ever get.
