“Alright, Crusaders, we’ve an important task to do!” Apple Bloom exclaimed as she trotted through the door of the headquarters of the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse.
The orange pegasus named Scootaloo eyed her oddly. “I thought we were going to aim for our surfing cutie marks today,“ she said.
“The thing I’ve found is more important than that,” replied Apple Bloom with an air of confidence. “Besides, where are we gonna find that kind’f waves in Ponyville?”
“The train ride to the nearest beach would take quite a few days,” a third filly, white in colour with a purple mane, added. “And there is the money to worry about…”
“Right, Sweetie Bell,” agreed Apple Bloom. “And this might turn out to be the most important thing we do in our lives! Why, I rec’n gettin’ a cutie mark from this would be a sinch!”
“That important, huh?” Scootaloo scratched her chin. “Right then, what is it?”
Apple Bloom walked to the front of the clubhouse, in front of their whiteboard, and ahemed authoritatively. “Right, then. No-one knows where Pinkie Pie is, an’ my sis is out there lookin’ for her. I reck’n if we find her before they do, not only will we have done a good thing for my sister, but we’ll get investigative cutie marks for sure!”
She beamed, prepared to bathe in the cheers and applause for her brilliant plan.
But it did not come.
Instead, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle just stared at Apple Bloom, their unease palatable in the air around them.
Finally, Scootaloo broke the silence.
“It sounds… uh…”
“Serious,” finished Sweetie Belle.
In a moment, Apple Bloom’s high hopes deflated on the spot.
“Not that we don’t think it’s a good way of earning a cutie mark,” Scootaloo quickly added, most likely hoping to soften Apple Bloom’s emotional fall. “It’s just…”
“Don’t you think this is more of a grown-up thing?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“I am grown up!” Apple Bloom protested. “We all are! And besides, have you ever had any trouble around these parts?”
Sweetie Belle just shrugged. Scootaloo, on the other hand, chewed her lip for a second, and then raised a hoof.
“Uh… what about that time you went out in the Forest with Twi-”
“That never happened!” Apple Bloom hissed. “Uh… an’ I told you never to bring that up,” she continued in her normal voice. “It was just a… a nightmare! That’s it. Just a nightmare.”
A few awkward moments passed before Apple Bloom spoke again.
“Come on guys, don’t ya wanna find out if this was what we were made for?”
Sweetie Belle nodded tentatively. “I guess…”
“And besides, it’s Pinkie – she goes about doin’ so much without askin’ for anything in return. Sweetie Belle, remember when she listened to your singin’ and offered ya tips on improvin’?”
“Well, yeah!”
“And Scootaloo, remember that time she gave you some helium balloons so you could practice flyin’?”
“That didn’t end so well,” muttered Scootaloo.
“But she did catch you when it did! And it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“Well, I guess…”
“And she gives us all parties, every birthday without fail!” She placed her forehooves on the table in front of her, as if to underscore this point. “As a true friend, we owe this to her.”
Scootaloo scrunched her forehead for a few seconds, tapping her chin with one hoof as she did. And then, she nodded.
“You’re right, Apple Bloom. And when have we ever turned down adventure!”
“Right!” She reached her hoof to the centre of the table, and the other two placed theirs on top of hers.
“Cutie Mark Crusaders Investigative Cutie Marks yay!” they all shouted, and lifted their arms in unison.
“So, this is a rock farm?” asked Rainbow Dash. “I can see why Pinkie left – who’d want to live here?”
The black, craggy surface resembled the slopes of a volcano, but without any lava, ash or snow – a bed of ovular slates broken up every now and then with rough, pointy outcrops. Twilight herself had to admit that she couldn’t imagine anyone living in such a place.
Then again, she reminded herself, rock farms didn’t normally look like this.
“It’s been abandoned long ago,” she said. “The rocks are overgrown and obviously haven’t been tended in a while.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, and Twilight sighed – sometimes she could come off as a bit of a know-it-all.
“Anyway,” she continued, “we need to split up and search for clues. Rainbow, Fluttershy, you take the house – it’s sure to be too dilapidated to traverse on hoof with any degree of safety. Applejack-”
“Hang on,” said Rainbow, a frustrated frown on her face. “Dy-lippo-dated?”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t catch that either,” added Spike, who was resting on Twilight’s back.
Twilight sighed again. “Worn down. Unsafe.”
“Ah.” Rainbow furrowed her brow for a few moments, as if committing the new word to memory. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
Twilight opened her mouth to say it was the best word for the job, but then bit back the temptation – after all, she couldn’t just expect anypony to know such a rarely-used word.
“I guess sometimes words escape me.” She smiled at Rainbow to let her know it wasn’t her fault, then turned to Applejack. “Okay, AJ, your athleticism makes you the perfect choice to lead the search outside. You and your group can scour the rougher north area, and Spike and I will assist in the search of the flatter southern area.”
“Can do!” Applejack replied with enthusiasm.
“Spike, how do you think you’ll do walking across the slag?”
The dragon slid off of Twilight’s back and bent down to examine the terrain.
“Well, I’ve only had practice at the rock garden at Mrs Merrewether’s bata… uh, boteni-”
“Botanical garden?”
“Yeah, that. But I think I’ll be alright.”
“Alright, then.” She turned to Rarity. “And Rarity… uh…”
In the rush getting here, Twilight had not noticed how… unlike Rarity Rarity looked. Her fur was ruffled, her mane tangled up with itself, and there were deep bags in her eyes.
“Yes, Twilight?”
Normally she would have tidied her appearance a little, even if it were the end of the world they were approaching – a quick brush spell would have taken no more than half-a-minute. This made her worried – was she still suffering the effects of the all-nighter they had undergone?
“Uh… are you sure you’ve recovered fully?”
“You do look kinda tired, now that ya mention it,” said Applejack. “An’ no-one would think any less of ya if you got yourself some more res-”
“While I appreciate the concern, I am still able to help,” Rarity rebuffed. “My magic may not regenerate as fast as yours, Twilight, but rest assured that my eye for detail is unimpaired!”
“Al…right, Rarity, if you’re sure. You can, uh…”
She glanced around, searching for something… suitable for Rarity in her current state. Something that wouldn’t be too difficult or taxing.
And then her eyes fell on the silos.
“-search those concrete containers!”
Rarity looked to where Twilight was pointing, then back to Twilight.
“Really?” She sighed. “Alright. I shall do my best.”
“Right then.” Twilight glanced around the group. “You have your assignments. Let’s go!”
She was in the woods.
Well, at least it felt like the woods. The world around her was pitch black, but every now and then she’d bump into something tall and rough, something that felt like a tree.
Where were they?
They said they’d always be there for her. They said…
She stumbled along, tripping on roots and little mounds of dirt, searching for their eyes, listening for their voices. But there was nothing-
Wait, what was that?
“Hello?” she called to the sound behind her – a shifting of something, like dirt. But no-one replied.
Now, with each step forward, her pulse quickened, her heartrate race. She began to nervously jog, not sure if it had been in her head, but trying to put some distance between her and it anyway-
A rustling sound, closer this time! She broke out into a gallop, desperately glancing backwards, hopefully staring forwards for the friends she still hoped would arrive.
Muscles ached, and her chest pained from th excertion. She stopped, panting, tired, but confident she’d escaped.
Gradually, she caught her breath. She scolded herself. It was probably a field mouse, or perhaps a bird. She should continue her journey without fear of such silly things.
After all, she thought to herself as she continued on her way, she shouldn’t be giving such foal tales any credit. They’re just scary tales designed to frightened kids. And she was a big pony… she could take care of herself. She didn’t need to be comforted. She didn’t need to be scared-
Wait, she’d caught her breath. Why could she still hear panting?
A puff of warm air brushed against her neck, and out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimmer of light. Slowly, nervously she turned her head, curious and dreadful at once.
Two glowing yellow orbs met her eyes.
She tried to scream, to warn someone of the beast she saw behind those two glowing eyes, to call for those friends she so desperately needed to save the day – but no sound came out.
A jagged line flashed into existence below the orbs. In an instant, it split in twain to form a moping maw; as the moments passed, it was growing wider and wider, ever larger, bigger by itself than even her…
The beast lunged. And no-one heard her scream-
A jolt disrupted Pinkamina from her slumber, and she awoke to find herself slumped across Rocky.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she gasped, lurching to a sit. “If I’d-”
“No, it’s no problemo!” replied Rocky. “After all, what are friends for, if not ta forgive each otha?”
“Unlike zhose zo-called friends, ze pohnies!” Madame Le Cake chimed in.
Rocky bristled. “Yeah, the nerve of them! Why, I orta give ‘em a piece of my mind!”
“Now guys, I don’t think we should dwell on others’ transgressions,” said Pinkamina. “We’re here together, and that’s all that matters.”
“Right!” agreed Rocky.
Madame Le Cake nodded. “Ju are correct! I should not ‘ave brought zem up, and for zat I am zorry!”
“It’s okay,” Pinkamina said. “As you said, forgiveness is what friendship is about.”
For the next three hours, she sat at the window, watching the scenery go by. Eventually, however, the forests gave way to open plains, and the view became quite boring. So, to pass the time, she began to hum. And, when even humming got tedious, she started singing.
“When you’re going away, sadness might come to ya
But as long as there’s friends, you don’t have to feel blue…”
“Eek! What iz zat noise!” said Madame Le Cake.
“It’s… heh, it’s a song!” said Pinkamina. “I just came up with it…”
“Vhell, I think ju should keep it to jourzelf! Jour singing, it lacks, how ju zay… taleent. La culchure.”
“I… don’t really like it either,” said Rocky.
“Oh,” said Pinkamina. “Okay, then.”
See, those are real friends, said the voice in her head. Not afraid to give you their opinion – nay, more than that, not willing to hide the truth that everyone else sees but is scared to say.
Pinkamina didn’t know what the voice was talking about. They gave her an opinion, and she respected it. What has that got to do with any ‘truth’?
You know, Pinkamina. Even you are too afraid to confront it.
She didn’t understand. As far as she was aware, there wasn’t any secret ‘truth’ that she was scared of admitting. All she knew was-
It’s your singing. No-one likes it. No-one has ever liked it.
But… that couldn’t be true! Ponies would smile, grin and beam at her when she sang! Sometimes they would even sing and dance alo-
They were just pretending! Some were just too afraid of telling you, but others? They enjoyed stringing you along. They revelled at your pathetic attempts to harmonise, to make merry, to sing. They would have carried on forever, had you not realised the truth.
But… the smiles… the cheerful grins… the wide beams… what were they?
They weren’t smiling. They were sneering. Those weren’t smiles of glee, but of sardonic amusement. They weren’t happy about you singing, they were happy that you continued your miserable singing blissfully unaware of how tragic you appeared. And once you were out of sight, they all laughed at you.
No… the voice was wrong… it had to be…
You just couldn’t bring yourself to admit it to yourself, that you were alone. So you constructed a world where everyone was cheerful and happy when you sang, so you wouldn’t see the truth.
After this final admonishment, Pinkamina sat silently for a few minutes, scanning her memories, thinking about what the voice had said, over and over, before finally coming to a conclusion.
The voice was right.
Pinkamina didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before. They had been jeering at her. All this time, she had been setting herself up on a pedestal to be openly mocked by the entire town.
Well, she was glad she had escaped that miserable pit. Never again would she give them the satisfaction of hearing her horrible trilling so they could tear it apart. Nor would she give anyone else the opportunity – she couldn’t take any more heartbreak.
No one would hear her sing ever again.
And with this resolve in mind, she set her sights back out the window and towards the ever-approaching Canterlot, where hopefully awaited better friends – and better people – than Ponyville ever did.